Translator: Cinder Translations
...
"Ding~ Ding~ Ding~"
The clear sound of a bugle echoed throughout the camp, signaling that it was time for dinner.
Doug and Patton held wooden lunchboxes and joined the queue in front of the kitchen, where more than thirty people were already ahead of them.
"Hey, Boss Doug!"
"Hey, Patton!"
As the two arrived, several people greeted them.
The mercenaries had not been separated or relocated; they had all been dumped together into this labor camp right next to the coal mine.
The Alden guards did not care whether the mercenaries still maintained the old order of their mercenary group or if they were still following the orders of their leader. All the guards needed was for them to complete their assigned tasks on time and in full.
In the Horns Bay, mercenaries—especially those with combat experience—were valuable military resources. After being captured, they were often recruited into the army of the captor. These guys were not knights, and concepts like loyalty had nothing to do with them. They would follow whoever offered better conditions or promised to restore their freedom after capture.
But in the Northwest Bay, this was not the case. The lord who captured them had no intention of integrating them; he merely viewed them as tools to be used.
At first, there were some who tried to cause trouble, but their leader—actually spurred on in secret by Doug and another mercenary group leader, Fergus—was tied up and executed on the spot with a 12-pound cannon. The shocking scene frightened the other mercenaries into submission, and they quickly became obedient.
They finally understood that the Aldens truly did not care what they thought; they were merely seen as a group of self-moving tools. If one broke down, they would just be "discarded."
Once their faint hopes were ruthlessly shattered by harsh reality, the mercenaries from the Bay quickly redefined themselves as Alden slaves. Their ability to shift mindsets so rapidly was tied to their familiarity with the culture of the Bay, where there had long been a tradition of enslaving captives from war.
As long as they maintained the right attitude, life in this labor camp wasn't too bad.
After Doug filled his plate, he and Patton joined the "feast" with a crowd of others.
He first soaked his bread in the thick soup—doing so was necessary to avoid chipping his teeth—then chewed a piece vigorously once he deemed it ready.
The soup today had a hint of meat flavor; not bad at all.
"I say, guys! Why haven't I seen Fergus and his men today?"
He looked around while chewing his bread.
Fergus was the leader of another mercenary group; they had been hired together and captured together.
"I saw his group being assembled and taken away by the guards while you and Patton were still in line," a young lad, about sixteen or seventeen years old, replied.
Doug felt a pang of sympathy for this young man, whose life was just beginning, now likely to be spent in this wretched place.
"I saw it too."
"Yes, the guards came personally to get Fergus and took his group away."
Many people provided Doug with information.
What was happening?
Doug felt a bit lost. Fergus and his men had been taken by the Aldens?
Were they being taken for… execution?
Or perhaps… released?
If it was the former, would the next group be himself and his men?
If it was the latter… why? Why?
Doug held his bread, stunned, completely lost in thought, not even hearing someone calling him from beside him.
"Boss Doug! Boss Doug!"
Patton tugged at Doug's sleeve, shaking him.
"Huh? What's the matter?"
Doug snapped back to reality.
"The guards are calling us."
"What?"
Was it their turn?
As an unknown fate loomed over him, Doug's heart began to tremble.
"All personnel!"
A guard, holding a megaphone, shouted:
"Gather outside in the open space immediately! You have fifteen minutes, now!"
The people present reacted almost reflexively, rising to run outside, disregarding their unfinished meals.
The prisoners had undergone a certain degree of militarization in accordance with Alden military protocols—such as formation drills, internal regulations, and morning and evening exercises—this was primarily for the sake of convenience in management.
Once they had assembled, a man dressed in Alden military attire walked back and forth in front of the prisoners, observing them closely.
Finally, he nodded in satisfaction and boomed, "Which one of you is Ribeiro Doug? Step forward!"
Doug hesitated for a moment but knew he could not hide any longer.
So he shouted, "Here!"
He mimicked the running exercises he had practiced, fists clenched at his sides, raised to shoulder height, and jogged out of formation to stand before the Alden soldier.
"Reporting! Ribeiro Doug, number 2001, at your service!"
The soldier examined him from head to toe, making Doug feel as if he were in a livestock market, like a horse being appraised by a buyer.
"Follow me! The rest of you, maintain this position for an hour!"
The "buyer" seemed to have set his sights on Doug, leading him away by the reins.
The remaining men exchanged confused glances but dared not even look at one another, wondering if someone had messed up and caused all of them to be punished together.
Doug followed nervously, all the way into the labor camp's administrative office.
"Fergus?"
Doug was somewhat surprised to find the leader of another mercenary group, Belus Fergus, also present.
Fergus looked at him with surprise in his eyes, followed by a hint of panic. Although he quickly masked it, Doug caught that fleeting moment of alarm.
"Hmph!" Fergus's already large nostrils flared even wider as he huffed heavily.
He seemed to swell with fighting spirit.
"Lord Elvin! Having our [Rhino] people is more than enough; there's no need for those weaklings from [Black Dog]!"
Rhino! Black Dog!
What nostalgic terms! Doug's heart stirred at the mention of these names, which belonged to Fergus's and his own mercenary groups, respectively.
However, since being sent to the labor camp, those terms had been buried deep in his memories.
Now, as they resurfaced, they awakened Doug's instincts from his days as a mercenary team leader.
"[Rhino]'s scraps! Who are you calling weaklings?"
Doug retorted without holding back.
Although his words were brash, a wave of joy surged within him.
From Fergus's startled reaction upon seeing him, and his remarks to the man named Elvin, it seemed the Aldens… might have something planned for them, and it wasn't menial tasks like coal shoveling; otherwise, Fergus wouldn't have been in such a hurry—he had acted as if some business was about to be snatched away from him.
Could it be… a glimmer of hope for escape?
(End of the Chapter)
---
Read (FF) ahead on (pa treon . com / CinderTL) – Chapter 754. {We've Caught UP!!!}
Early access starts at $5. Your support keeps this going!
Subscribe & Read Nightmare Strikes FREE!! ;)
Translated 4 Series, 1.5K+ Chapters and 1.78M+ Words.