"What should we do next?"
"You decide. We all trust you."
Behind him, a previously silent slave laborer spoke up.
His cheeks were sunken, and he was tall and gaunt. Dressed in tattered, filthy rags, his skin was pale from long periods without sunlight, with veins visible underneath.
Due to the long-term dark environment, he had trachoma, making his eyes particularly murky, yet at this moment his gaze was inexplicably firm, even faintly glowing in the dark mine.
This slave laborer was named Nick. He, too, was born a serf, but had once worked as an attendant student. His parents were trampled to death by the Earl's youngest son's horse, and he himself was sold into the mines. Deep in his heart, he harbored deep-seated hatred towards the Northern Nobility.
He was also the earliest acceptor and propagator of new ideas among the slave laborers, and now he had become Spark's right-hand man, a crucial figure in this long-planned rebellion.
