Now, after the departure of the traffickers, Lord Frozenfang arrived at the scene. With determined steps, he positioned himself at the upper edge of the large hole serving as a temporary prison for the purchased children. His penetrating gaze swept over each of the captives before he uttered words that would linger in their minds for days.
"You will have food, shelter, and training for one week," announced Lord Frozenfang, his voice carrying an authority that brooked no argument. "After that week, my guards will join you."
As the children absorbed this information, Lord Frozenfang's attention shifted to the entrance of the hole. A procession of approximately 20 guards descended, each bearing the imposing posture of an elite military force. Their presence instilled both fear and anticipation among the captives.
"They will not force you to do anything," Lord Frozenfang continued, his serene tone contrasting with the seriousness of his words. "You will decide what you want. My recommendation would be to learn everything you can from them this week."
With a calculated pause, Lord Frozenfang emphasized the opportunity before them. "You have the privilege of being trained by the most powerful armed force on this continent," he added, his gaze encompassing every child present. "These skills will serve you well in the future."
The echo of his words faded into the air, leaving behind a sense of anticipation and challenge among the captives. A week to absorb knowledge and skills, a week that could make the difference between survival and stagnation in a world where strength and prowess were everyday currency. And at the end of that week, they would discover the purpose awaiting in the shadows, a destiny that would take shape as the days unfolded and truths were unveiled in Frost's icy embrace.
Amidst the stirring emotions, one of the children approached the toughest-looking guard, a man whose very presence demanded respect. The boy, with short black hair and burn marks marring his face, locked eyes with the guard and spoke with determination, "I wish to be under your guidance."
The guard, his voice gruff yet seasoned, regarded the boy sternly. "Alright, kid. You'll be my student. But remember, once you quit, there's no coming back," he warned, setting the tone for the rigorous training that lay ahead.
Surprised by this display of initiative, other children soon followed suit, seeking mentorship under the guards whose reputations preceded them as masters of combat and survival.
Meanwhile, a group of twenty servants arrived, bearing food fit for royalty. The enticing aroma drew the hungry children, who eagerly partook in the feast except for one boy—Kenshin. Instead of joining the meal, Kenshin remained focused on training with an intensity fueled by rejection and a burning desire for a future where he would fulfill his purpose.
Approaching a guard with tear-filled eyes, Kenshin asked softly, "Can you train me?" However, upon noticing Kenshin's impairment, the guard hesitated before redirecting him, "Someone else will handle your training better. I'm better off doing nothing."
Undeterred, Kenshin retreated to a corner, embarking on a self-imposed regimen of push-ups and pull-ups. While some children enjoyed the luxuries and training under the guards, others opted for a life of leisure, unaware of the challenges looming ahead.