Nightmares, horrible nightmares—that was something this land did all too well. I found myself walking through the forest, where darkness enveloped everything beyond a meter from me. As I moved forward, a cone-shaped tent appeared, and from it emerged a figure. I leapt toward it, knife in hand, filled with fear. But when I looked at the face of my victim, I could only see myself. In that moment, the scene changed, and now I felt the pain of stabs being inflicted upon me by someone whose face was hidden in shadows. The pain and the imminence of my death intensified as the fog from the forest closed around us, enveloping us completely.
I woke up with a start, screaming and heart pounding, drenched in sweat. Still sore, I got up, trying to ignore everything except the thirst that consumed me. I went out of the tent and looked for one of the clay canteens. Once the burning in my throat had eased, I looked around; something was different about the camp. My attention was drawn to the presence of four people, seated and tied up.
I stopped one of my subjects, who was carrying a basket over her shoulders, and asked her where the men who had participated in the raids were while I slept. Finally, I ordered a general assembly so that everyone would gather and inform me of what had happened, as I had been in a deep sleep.
First, the two remaining raids had been carried out. The first was not very profitable: they found another small camp, but it had been destroyed. According to my hunters, it looked like it had been attacked by wolves; they only found a couple of corpses, a wrecked tent, and few items of value, among them some copper coins. The second raid was more successful: it was another camp of five people, in a state similar to the one we attacked together, although they encountered some resistance. Along with the loot, they managed to capture a woman, though her fingers were broken from the struggle.
Aside from the raids, we were attacked while I was asleep. However, they were so inconsequential that I didn't wake up: we received between three and four invasions, with groups of one to four people. Given our numerical superiority, they were quickly subdued, and we even managed to capture a man. But these battles were not without cost; one of my warriors received a deep axe wound in his arm, almost down to the bone. He's now being treated at the camp, though his arm will likely be unusable for a long time, which is a significant loss of manpower.
With the prisoners here, I had to think about how to proceed. My initial intent was to turn them into slaves, though I understood that this required a more complex process. Being a prisoner is one thing; being a slave, quite another. Without the specific elements that would facilitate this transformation, the work becomes arduous. Perhaps I could acquire these items at the shop, but they wouldn't be cheap. Either way, I would need to consider my options.
Without these resources, I would need to assert my authority to break their resistance—not physically, but psychologically. I had to make them submit to me and accept my rule. As long as they resisted, they wouldn't be true slaves; only when they cooperated, even reluctantly, would they have accepted it at some level, allowing me to give they the class.I read some options on the World-Net, in the forums of my old world's peers, where they mentioned various methods: whipping, torture, enough pain to generate obedience, threats... they even mentioned the possibility of using sexual violence to break the will, especially in women. However, that perspective repulsed me; deep down, I'm still an empathetic, even kind person. But I didn't know what to do with them—I couldn't just release them.
After considering it, I decided I wasn't ready to go to those extremes. No severe torture or violations; I would go with something more moderate, perhaps a few lashes. Although, without a proper whip, I'd only have the stick we use to whip the donkey. I had to start somehow, toughen up, and acquire the character necessary to found this empire. I didn't want what happened in my first raid to happen again.
I ordered the male prisoner to be brought in, well-tied. They knelt him in front of a crate and forced him to lay his hands, palms down, on the surface. The other three female prisoners were also brought close enough so that they wouldn't miss a single detail of what was happening.
"I'll be direct with you: you're here because I killed your friends, acquaintances, lovers… or maybe family, I don't know. You're now my prisoners, but I can't afford to feed more mouths if I don't get something in return," I improvised, trying to keep a hard and intimidating tone. "So, here are your options: surrender, agree to serve me as slaves, and live a little longer… or die slowly while I practice on you."
With a more intense seriousness, I brought the stick down forcefully on the prisoner's fingers.
*THUMP*
"AAAHH!!!" He howled in pain.
*THUMP!*
I didn't hold back, though I knew too much force could render his hands useless, and I needed him to be useful. I adjusted the intensity, repeatedly hitting his hands, arms, shoulders, and ribs, ignoring his screams and the muffled sobs of the women watching. Five or six blows later, I felt exhausted, though I'm not sure if physically or otherwise. My men dragged him back to his place, tying him up roughly again.
Then, they brought the women, one by one, in front of the crate, each one crying and resisting.
"Please, no…" one of them pleaded.
*THUMP*
"AAAYYY!"
I wasn't as brutal with them; I only gave each of them two hits on their hands before they were taken away. The first one, with features suggesting she was from a generic village, pleaded tearfully, while the other two, apparently [Transylvanian villagers] native to this region, endured the pain in silence, though their suffering was still evident.
The prisoners were now frightened and in pain, watched closely at all times by four of my men. Perhaps I'm overdoing it with precautions, but I don't want to take any risks. The rest of the camp resumed their duties, although we increased the number of people patrolling. The 24 hours aren't up yet, and we could suffer attacks even during the night. For this reason, nighttime surveillance will be greater: fourteen people in total, ten for the camp and four for the prisoners, in rotating shifts every three to four hours.
I've stopped trying to participate in these watches; I understood that trying to match myself with the other workers is not always the best approach. I am weak, and if I intend to keep my position as leader and master of slaves, I must present myself as imposing, though that doesn't mean I can't be compassionate at times. However, today has been a difficult day. I've done things I never imagined, things that make my stomach churn, and I want nothing more complicated than to sleep or, at least, collapse onto an animal hide and rest.
...
The other day ended with just one more invasion during the night. Though we managed to repel it, it was risky. There were three of them, one armed with a bow that wounded one of our men. Fortunately, the injury wasn't severe. We didn't take prisoners; it was night, and the risk was too high. We attacked to kill.
The male prisoner tried to escape amid the attack but received a blow to the head that knocked him out. Unfortunately, the blow resulted in a severe contusion, and even if he survived, it was clear he wouldn't regain his mental faculties. Seeing him that morning, I decided to put him out of his misery, doing it myself. I wanted to atone for my past mistakes, to feel the weight of death firsthand, thinking it would harden me. Through tears, I cut his throat and watched as he slowly stopped moving, his blood running out. I don't think I'll ever forget that scene, nor am I sure I'll be able to sleep through the night after this.
I went to the river to wash, though more to cleanse the guilt than to remove the blood. I felt like the worst scum in this world. Some men accompanied me, but I barely noticed their presence.
When we returned to the camp, another incident occurred: one of the prisoners tried to take her own life, biting her tongue in a desperate attempt to escape this cruel fate. What no one mentions is that this type of death is painful and slow. We couldn't do anything but watch her bleed out slowly. I asked my men to end her suffering, as I still couldn't bring myself to do it with an innocent woman.
I felt something in me had broken; everything became dark and gray. For a moment, I thought this life wasn't for me. If it weren't because I know I can't really die, I might have considered suicide as an escape. I think I was beginning to understand why the [Transylvanian Villagers] were so apathetic; they had become numb to life, and I felt I might end up the same.
I didn't know if I could keep the two remaining prisoners without something similar happening. I was in a trance, seeing only darkness around me. I made decisions that, at another time, I would never have considered, letting cruelty consume me. Inspired by tales of Viking raids, I gave my men permission to "have fun" with the prisoners, as long as they did it far away where I couldn't hear them. It was cruel, yes, but at least, I thought, if those women were going to die anyway, they might serve to relieve my followers' frustration.
Then, I withdrew to the mud hut, trying to escape everything by immersing myself in the World-Net, seeking distraction. I've never been one to drink, but at this moment, I would wish for nothing more than something—perhaps a drug—to make me forget everything.
My spirits gradually improved. With the chat system, besides entertaining myself with other foreigners' funny comments about this medieval world, I also managed to contact my family. I hadn't done so before, as I doubted whether this family, so similar to the one from my old world, was truly mine. But in the midst of so much stress, I needed to feel some warmth and security, and they gave me that.
First, there are my parents, who, like the rest of my family, are living independently and not forming an empire as I am. They live in the country of Albion, one of the kingdoms of the continent Aurelia, which I tried to enter at first since it's equivalent to Europe in my old world.
They are peasants under the rule of a feudal lord. They have a small farm that they work on every day until exhaustion, but despite the taxes, they lead a relatively safe life. Upon arriving in this world, they debated what kind of life to lead and, luckily, found an opportunity in the city where they appeared, where a convoy from the feudal lord offered small plots of land to those willing to work it. Although they had never worked on a farm like this, they took the opportunity as a means to gain protection from someone powerful. At their age, they preferred a peaceful life rather than risking wars or conquests, as I am.
Then, there's Laila, my younger sister, who is 21 years old. Thanks to her language classes and historical knowledge, she passed the trivia and ended up in Attera, another country in Aurelia, though somewhat far from Albion.
In our modern world, Laila studied finance and economics, but here she chose a different path. She knew the protection we foreigners receive wouldn't last forever and wanted to have the means to defend herself. I discovered something interesting talking to her: only those who found their own kingdoms can directly choose a class and skill. Those who choose to "Live their own adventure" appear in cities where they can select similar classes but need to attend a training center and/or study a book to truly learn the skills.
Laila chose the [Militia] class, so she had to train for a month at the barracks in her city. I admit that training would have been useful for me, too. She chose that class because it's cheap and simple. Although she didn't have to pay for the training, the initial fund each person receives varies depending on the chosen class, as if paying upfront. She used the excess funds for other purposes, taking advantage of her skill with money.
It turns out she's also quite talented in combat; she's always been in good physical shape, and surely her physical attributes are around at least 8 points. She told me she received praise from her "serious and intimidating instructors" and managed to raise her [Militia Strike] skill to silver level during that time. They even offered her a job at the barracks, saying she has a promising future. Moreover, she told me she feels she's halfway to reaching gold level in her skill. Now that's talent.
Currently, she works for the barracks in her city, though she dislikes the environment. While Attera isn't the most religious country in Aurelia, it's one of the most devout, and she, being an atheist as far back as I can remember, fears that if someone discovers her lack of faith, it might cause problems. She's looking for mercenaries or traders traveling to other countries to go with them. I hope she has good luck and does well.
Lastly, there's our younger brother, Ian, 17 years old. If Laila has intellectual and physical talent, Ian excels in the spiritual realm. His Faith level reaches 87 points, which is quite good, and by choosing the priest class, his Faith increased by 10 more points, reaching 97, almost enough to be considered a "True Priest," someone who can progress in his class and skills without issue. Although he hasn't reached that level yet, his talent in this area is remarkable, and he'll likely have little difficulty on his path to the end.
Ian decided to join Luxaltis, the largest country and religious center of Aurelia. However, he doesn't stay in the main cities, since although living in Luxaltis is luxurious, it's also expensive. Following advice from friends, he moved to a more peripheral area of the continent, where luxury is lower, but life is more affordable. There he joined a church and enrolled to learn his priest class, which will take him three to six months. It will take even longer before he receives the official title of priest.
Talking to them was a relief, though it made me realize that among the three siblings, I was the only one with low talent, only compensating with my strange double civilization. For my part, I told them that I was founding an empire, though I avoided mentioning details about my particular civilization. My secrecy earned me some scoldings and teasing for not knowing well where I am or for not paying attention to the place I was sent to. In the end, it was they who managed to pull me out of my depressive state.