Chapter 2: Slave
The next day.
Having barely slept through the cold wind of the night, Leon—no, rather, Leon, was suddenly awakened by a loud, frantic cry and scream.
Rubbing his sleepy eyes, he sat up and looked toward the source of the commotion.
Outside the cage, a number of mercenaries had gathered without him noticing.
These Kantadal soldiers were guarding a man dressed in a military robe adorned with a white bird pattern, clearly someone of higher rank—possibly a Kantadal officer or noble. The man looked at the commotion inside the cage with an impatient gaze.
Two soldiers were roughly dragging a woman inside the cage, trying to pull her outside. A young boy, furious, was shouting and desperately holding onto her, constantly kicking and struggling against the mercenaries.
Upon closer inspection, it was the pair of siblings.
"You bastard pigs! Let go of my sister! Let go of her! Let go of her!!" The boy's furious scream was full of anger, but his voice also betrayed helpless panic and a sobbing tone.
His sister, already reduced to tears, could only intermittently beg her brother to let go, not wanting to provoke the mercenaries into further violence.
The Kantadal mercenaries, clearly not in a good mood, threw the girl onto the ground. One of them grabbed the boy by the hair and pulled him backward, while the other mercilessly kicked the boy to the ground with his boot.
(Uriah language) "Damn pigs!" The mercenary cursed in a foreign language, enraged, as he drew his sword.
Leon's eyelids twitched instinctively at the sight. Any person with basic moral sense from Earth's modern world would find it hard to be unmoved by such a scene. The vivid memories of his original parents' brutal deaths surged, igniting an uncontrollable anger within him.
But reason warned him that, at this moment, he was just an unarmed teenager. There was nothing he could do.
A hand pressed down on his shoulder, and turning his head, Leon saw it was the boy from yesterday.
"Don't make it worse. We can't help him," Azerion said calmly to Leon.
The poor woman, thrown to the ground, was nearly breaking down. Seeing the mercenary's sword poised to strike at her last family member, her vision blurred with tears. She crawled to the mercenary's feet, clutching his ankle, begging for mercy: "Please—no, no, don't hurt my brother, please, kind sir. I'll go with you... I'll go with you, just don't hurt him, please."
The mercenary's steps were halted for a moment, and he was about to angrily grab the woman's hair, but his actions were interrupted by his fellow mercenaries. Another mercenary gestured toward the slave buyers outside, signaling that the enraged mercenary needed to restrain himself.
Reluctantly, the mercenary sheathed his sword and, grabbing the woman's arm, pulled her out of the cage.
"Cough, sis... you Kantadal bastards!" The boy, struggling to get up, coughed up blood. The boy, blinded by hatred, roared and charged again.
A mercenary in the middle raised his fist to strike the boy, but the boy ducked and narrowly avoided the blow.
The boy's body crashed into the mercenary's chest. Leon watched in surprise as the boy, still shackled, swiftly reached for the mercenary's sword hilt.
Unfortunately, the mercenary was unfazed. He raised his hand to steady his sword and sidestepped, lifting his right leg to deliver a knee strike to the boy's abdomen.
With a loud thud, the blow knocked the boy over. His already bruised body was kicked into a curled position on the ground.
His weakened body couldn't handle the rush of blood, and the mercenary mercilessly followed up with another kick, knocking the boy unconscious.
"No! Please don't hurt him! Please, sir, I beg you!" The woman's heartbroken sobs were dragged further away.
(Uriah language) "You little bastard, if you weren't worth anything, I'd cut you into pieces!" The mercenary spat on the boy, who lay unconscious from the blow. He had no intention of lingering any longer and, cursing under his breath, left the cage.
Finally.
The surroundings fell into a suffocating silence once more.
The prisoners, either numb or filled with sympathetic gazes, turned their eyes to the ground. No one could help him, and no one could help themselves. People had grown accustomed to such tragic fates.
Moreover, in a way, the boy was luckier than most prisoners, because most of the others had lost their entire families in the earlier slaughter.
Seeing the mercenaries finally leave, Leon sighed, stood up, and moved to the boy who had been knocked unconscious. He squatted down to quickly assess his injuries.
The mercenary's blows had left bruises all over the boy's body, but thankfully, there were no fatal injuries. The boy, with his sturdy build, was still breathing evenly despite being unconscious.
Leon flipped him onto his side, letting the boy lie in a more comfortable position.
But there was nothing more he could do for him.
When the boy regained consciousness, it was already afternoon.
The boy opened his reddened eyes, his throat as hoarse as a wild beast, filled with rage. He struggled to rise but collapsed in pain from the injuries to his chest and abdomen.
The pain instinctively caused the boy to curl up tighter. His sorrowful wails gradually turned into sobs as his impotent anger gave way to weeping.
Leon watched silently, unable to offer any comfort. If it were him, no pale words could soothe the pain at this moment.
After a long time, the boy's low sobs gradually faded away.
As dusk fell, the time came for the mercenaries to bring food to the prisoners. This time, Leon was more prepared and quickly got up to collect the food.
The half piece of food the boy named Azerion had shared with him yesterday had barely lasted, and perhaps because of the vivid memories of gluttonous feasts before his transmigration, the hunger he felt now was more intense.
It was unclear whether it was due to fewer prisoners or if the mercenaries simply threw food carelessly, but this time, there seemed to be a little more food than there were prisoners in the cage.
Leon grabbed a piece and looked over at the boy, who had lost his sister. The boy was curled in the corner, motionless. Leon took an extra piece from the ground.
Returning to the corner, Leon placed the extra piece of dry food in front of the boy, then sat down and began eating.
After finishing the tough, sawdust-like dry food, Leon still didn't see any movement from the boy, whose eyes had grown empty, as if he were a soulless puppet.
"If you want to starve to death here, you'll never see your sister again," Leon couldn't help but say.
But the boy didn't respond.
Realizing he wasn't good with words, Leon sighed helplessly. "Well, if you don't want to eat, I won't be polite. I don't want to stay in this cage forever."
With that, he reached for the dry food, his previous days of eating large meals flashing in his mind. At this point, even though the food was terrible, it was better than starving.
Perhaps something in Leon's words triggered the boy, because before Leon could touch the food, the boy suddenly snatched it away with a quick movement.
The boy gripped the dry food tightly, his joints white with tension. His face, once vacant, now appeared alive, contorted with rage as he devoured the food.
Seeing this, Leon smiled. Looks like no extra food for him.
The boy devoured the food greedily, then, with difficulty, forced himself to sit up straight, his eyes fixed on Leon.
".?" Leon was puzzled by the boy's intense gaze.
After a moment of silence, the boy slowly moved closer, his voice low and gritting his teeth as he asked, "You said you don't want to stay in the cage forever... do you have a way to escape?"
Azerion, who was nearby, seemed to vaguely hear his words and involuntarily glanced over.
It was only then that Leon understood what had triggered the boy. Apparently, the boy had interpreted his words as having a hidden meaning.
"I don't want to become a slave, but right now, I have no way to escape," Leon could only shake his head regretfully at the boy.
Seeing the boy's gaze slowly turn to disappointment, Leon furrowed his brow and added, "As long as you're still alive, there will always be a chance to get out."
The boy slowly lowered his head, staring at the dirty ground beneath him. After a long while, he murmured in a low voice, "As long as I'm still alive."
The boy dragged his battered body to the corner of the cage next to Leon.
Leon watched him in silence for a moment before suddenly asking, "My name is Leon, what's yours?"
"Lohaque," the sturdy boy answered in a deep voice.
Leon glanced at the boy's strong body, covered with bruises, and kindly advised, "Don't do foolish things like that again."
"What do you mean?"
"Do you want to be beaten to death before you get a chance to escape? At least try not to get yourself hurt further." Leon looked at the boy's wounds and said, "If you die here, who will save your sister in the future?"
Lohaque, hearing this, looked at Leon deeply. He didn't reply, only silently nodded.
Leon sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time. He lowered his head and looked at the shackles tightly binding his hands.
It was easy to say comforting words, but the reality was still despairing. The chance to escape was so uncertain and fleeting. Not to mention, the issue of how to get these shackles off his hands was a problem in itself.
Leon helplessly closed his eyes and continued resting.
No matter what, just like he had told the boy, before any potential opportunity came, he had to keep his strength and spirit intact in order to survive.
(End of Chapter)