Chapter - 20
The carriage continued its journey, the wheels creaking and groaning under the weight. Jacob's captors barely glanced at him, more interested in ensuring the procession moved smoothly through the dense forest. His pleas fell on deaf ears, the men too accustomed to the cries of their captives to pay them any heed.
Jacob sank back to the floor of the cage, his mind racing. What had he seen? Was it a message from beyond, a cruel trick, or a desperate grasp at hope? The thought of Eliza, alive and in his arms again, was something he could hardly dare to dream. He couldn't understand how or why, but he knew one thing for certain: if there was even the slightest chance of bringing her back, he would take it.
As the carriage bumped along the trail, Jacob's mind began to clear. He needed to survive, to understand this strange new world he found himself in, and to find a way to complete this 'Trial'.
"Mirntha," he whispered to himself, tasting the unfamiliar name. "Who or what is this Cursed Lord?" Whatever the answers, he would find them. He had to. For Eliza.
--
The towering walls of Ironhelm City loomed into view. The sheer size of the fortifications was unlike anything he'd ever seen. The walls, constructed from immense stone blocks, rose dozens of feet into the air, their surfaces weathered by time yet still standing resolute and imposing. The massive iron gate at the center of the wall was even more impressive, adorned with intricate engravings and reinforced with heavy bolts, giving it an almost impenetrable appearance.
Jacob could see other carriages queued up in front of the gate, each waiting its turn to be inspected by the city guards. The line moved slowly, and the air was filled with the low murmur of voices, the creaking of wooden wheels, and the occasional crack of a whip as handlers kept their restless horses in check. Merchants, traders, and others stood alongside their carriages, some shouting at guards to hasten the process, while others watched silently, resigned to the wait.
As the carriages carrying Jacob and the other captives approached the gate, he noticed the guards stationed there were armed to the teeth. They wore chainmail armor and carried long spears, their eyes scanning every person with an intimidating thoroughness.
Jacob's captors exchanged brief words with one of the guards. Though Jacob couldn't make out the details of the conversation, he saw the captor hand over a bundle of documents. The guard took the papers, scrutinizing them carefully, his eyes darting between the documents and the captives in the cages. The guard's gaze lingered on Jacob for a moment longer than the others, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to place something. After a tense few moments, the guard nodded, handed the documents back to the captor, and waved them through.
The carriages rolled forward as they passed through a tunnel-like entrance, the air inside cooler and damp, with the sound of their passage echoing off the stone walls. When they emerged on the other side, Jacob found himself in the bustling heart of Ironhelm City.
The city was a hive of activity, with narrow cobblestone streets winding between tall, closely packed buildings. Vendors shouted their wares from colorful market stalls as children darted through the crowds. Jacob's cage jostled as the carriage navigated the busy streets. He caught glimpses of people stopping to stare. The sight of slaves being transported through the city was evidently not uncommon, yet it still drew attention. Jacob clenched his fists, feeling a wave of anger and frustration. He was no stranger to hardship, but this new world seemed determined to test his limits.
Soon, Jacob and the other captives were herded into a large, dimly lit building. They were shoved into a narrow room and lined up against the cold stone walls. Moments later, a man of obvious importance entered, accompanied by Jacob's captors. His eyes glinted with a calculating gleam as he surveyed the slaves before him.
"Hmmm," the man began, his voice dripping with disdain, "you've brought a barely passable batch this time. These men are good for nothing but simple labor at most." He walked down the line, his gaze dismissive until he stopped in front of Jacob.
The man's eyes narrowed as he took in Jacob's appearance. Unlike the other bedraggled captives, Jacob stood out with his strong physique and his piercing blue eyes, which were filled with a defiant fire.
"Now this," the man said, gripping Jacob's shoulders with an appraising touch, "this is a good piece."
Jacob's temper flared. "I'm not an object, you filthy lowlife," he spat, his voice ringing with anger. "Let me go right now. You have no right to hold me."
Before he could say another word, one of the guards smashed a fist into Jacob's face, sending him sprawling to the ground. Pain exploded in his cheek, but he refused to cry out. Instead, he glared up at his assailant, rage simmering in his eyes.
"Lady Meredith has requested a few able-bodied slaves for guard duty," the man said. "This one will do well for that. Get him ready to be sent there."
As the man turned and walked away, the bindings of the slaves were removed, before the men went out of the door, locking it behind them.
Finally, with the binds removed, Jacob took a moment to assess his situation. To his surprise, his body was unmarked, devoid of any bullet wounds or scars from the gunfight back on Earth. He felt as fit as he had ever been, a mystery he couldn't begin to unravel.
Reaching into his belt and pockets, Jacob found three familiar items: a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, and his revolver. Thankfully, the stupid guards hadn't recognized his revolver as a weapon, thus they didn't confiscate it. The cool metal of the revolver felt reassuring in his hand, but when he checked the cylinder, it was empty. He doubted he could find bullets in this strange new world.
That was when it happened. Just as Jacob was grappling with his predicament, the mysterious words returned, forming in his vision with a surreal glow.
Ability Activated: Gun-Gale
A sudden whirlwind began to form around Jacob's revolver. The cylinder clicked open, and a brilliant blue light filled the empty chamber slots, swirling with a strange, ethereal energy. The cylinder then snapped shut and rotated with a mechanical precision.