It was as if Vayne was submerged in deep water. Contrary to his frustration, there was no sense of resistance, fluid or viscosity. He was floating in the void.
He was dead.
Yes, one of the knights had pierced his chest with his sword. Nailed him to the throne where he had been sitting.
What had happened now? Was this what death was like.
To be honest, he didn't breathe anymore and he didn't need to. He wasn't even sure he had a body.
For a long time it seemed like an eternity.
Until
Until the mysterious voice of magic whispers in your ears once more.
[Experimenter: Vayne]
[The spell is calling you. Welcome to your first trial.]
Vayne understood nothing of these voices. He had already been tested once and failed. Now he was going to be tested a second time.
[Awaiting pairing for the first test.]
[Pairing complete, First Test set.]
[The Kyote empire and its people, the Kyote, believe that they are descended from the heroic great warrior Kyote. They see all other people as inferior beings, fit only to be their slaves. They are a warrior race. The blood in their veins, the blood of Kyote heroes, makes them stronger with each victory and weaker with each defeat under certain circumstances].
[You will awaken as a Kyote. The Kyote are a community that lost the war against the Welfavn empire. As a result, many of their people have been captured and sold into slavery.]
[Your awakening will take place in the Strand harbor in the Welfavn empire.]
[But even in the Welfavn empire you are not safe. Survive before the empire collapses.]
[Exam duration 2 months]
[Exam success: survival for 2 months.]
[Failure: death.]
[Reward: Awakening as a Level 1 mage]
[Good luck... May fate be with you].
Vayne lost consciousness again as the spell wished him good luck.
As soon as Vayne had finished tracking and memorizing all this data, a bright ruby-colored light blinded him, swallowing all existence and consciousness in the process. When he woke up after a long time, sweat and decay hit his nostrils.
He was in a dungeon. The stench inside was nauseating, his tongue and teeth parched with thirst and his stomach crying for food
When Vayne opened his eyes, the first thing he realized was that he was not alone in his cell and that it was dark. The sun had just risen, but apart from a small barred skylight that let in some light, it was pitch black. Surprisingly, he could still see clearly.
'What the hell is this place!'
Vayne cursed inwardly.
Twenty or so other prisoners were waiting to be dumped in the middle of their waste. Most of them were still asleep.Their bodies, almost naked except for the loincloth covering them, were also severely dehydrated. Yet that was not what made their identification so difficult.
Vayne looked down at the clear water on the stone floor.
His face was still as he remembered it. The only difference was that he was thinner than when he lived in the slum.
Every single rib could be counted.
Vayne came to himself, recovering from his surroundings.
As he struggled to his feet, resistance and the clanking of chains prevented him from completing his movement. He also had shackles on his ankles and his ankles were connected by a chain to two other prisoners.
"If you pull the chain one more time, I will kill you right here."
Next to Vayne spoke a tall, broad-shouldered slave who was chained to him.
Vayne sat calmly in his seat, trying not to attract too much attention.
First he had woken up in the middle of a cell covered in urine and feces, and now he had to endure being chained to some crazy idiot.
This was much closer to being an attempt at magic.
Vayne still had no idea what it was he was experiencing for the first time.
Perhaps if the spell spoke one more time he might learn something.
Meanwhile, footsteps had stopped a few meters away from their cell.
A man dressed like a Roman legionnaire unlocked the rotten-looking wooden door with a large, rusty, old-fashioned key. He wore a bronze breastplate, a navy blue tunic that reached to his knees under his armor, and a pair of sandals. A spear was also hidden under his belt. An open helmet made it possible to separate the parts of his guards.
The man was young, under thirty, but there was a cruelty and brutality in him that even Vayne could not handle. His nose was crooked, his skin gray and his teeth yellow.
Vayne was once again confused by how strong the citizens of Welfavn seemed.
"Everybody get out and move your ass!" Their guard started yelling at them, spitting like a fountain.
The language he spoke was completely foreign to Vayne and yet everyone understood his words as if they had been practicing it forever. Seeing that most of the prisoners were too stupid or too exhausted to obey, he called in several guards and instilled obedience in them with the help of biting lashes of the whip.
The Kyote slaves were too weak and thirsty to respond, and the slower ones were whipped ten times before they found the strength to stand up. The latecomers, bound together by the chains at their feet, were actually holding the whole group down.