As the three survivors stood amidst the chaos, a grim shadow fell over them, and a voice echoed from behind.
"It seems the spy did her job flawlessly. She mentioned some Drakons might escape through this secret passage. Looks like we hit the jackpot."
Orlan turned sharply, shouting for the two children to run. Abaddon, still consumed by shock and despair, could only see the flaming estate reflected in his eyes, his body frozen in place.
Eleanor, realizing his state, grabbed his hand and pulled him with all the strength she could muster. Despite being a non-ranker herself, she struggled to drag him away.
The soldiers, however, looked unconcerned. Orlan grabbed a stick from the ground, desperate to buy the children more time, and held it defensively toward the approaching soldiers.
"Oh, come on, old man. A stick? Not even a sword?"
One of them mocked the old man.
Orlan gritted his teeth as his grip on the stick got tighter. He had to protect the young master, no matter the cost. But before he could act, a soldier slammed the hilt of his sword into his chest, knocking him unconscious instantly.
"Bring the children."
The leader ordered one of his men.
One of the soldiers stepped forward scanning the environment with his glowing blue eyes, he extended his right hand, and blue energy began to gather in front of him. Within seconds, it took the shape of a massive bull-horned gorilla. The man was a ranker of the Beast Tamer class, specializing in spirit summoning, indicating he had reached at least the Common Rank stage.
Without delay, he commanded the beast to capture the children fleeing through the woods. The creature charged into the undergrowth and, within minutes, returned with Abaddon and Eleanor in its grasp. Unconscious, the two were brought back and placed alongside Orlan, gathering all three captives in one spot.
The last thing Abaddon heard before succumbing to the darkness was the voice of the leader:
"Take them away. The tiger has shown its fangs—it's best we retreat. I've received a telepathic warning from our men inside the estate. The hero Kaedryn has begun to act."
One of the soldiers gasped in horror.
"How? Wasn't he poisoned?"
The leader shook his head grimly.
"He's the strongest for a reason. They say he's an eleven-star Imperium Rank. Do you even understand how powerful that is? Besides, it seems he was pretending to be weakened from the start to lure us. But we've got one of his children—it's a win for us."
He turned to his men with a shady look.
"We'll report back and re-strategize. The rumors of his strength aren't just stories."
As the dark night sky faded, the first rays of sunlight began to appear, guiding the soldiers toward a cluster of parked energy vehicles in the forest.
The scene shifted as multiple energy vehicles sped through the dense jungle, carrying the soldiers who had attacked the Drakon estate. Attached to one of the vehicles was a large cage filled with captives, including Abaddon, Orlan, and Eleanor.
The metallic clink of chains was the first sound Abaddon heard as he regained consciousness. He clutched his head, overwhelmed by sharp pain.
His wrists were bruised and sore from the cold iron shackles that dug into his skin. As he looked around, he realized he was confined in a cage being transported.
Before he could process the situation, a familiar voice rasped beside him.
"You're awake, young master."
Abaddon turned his head, wincing from the sharp pain in his neck. To his surprise, it was Orlan, the head steward, sitting miserably against the wooden bars of the cage, his body covered in bruises and cuts.
To his right lay Eleanor, still unconscious. He sighed, recalling how they had suddenly encountered a Vermin Class-I Myth—a bull-horned gorilla—that had effortlessly captured them.
Abaddon gritted his teeth in pure fury, feeling something within him slowly dying, only to be replaced by something entirely different. He sighed, then turned back to Orlan, his voice cold as he asked,
"Orlan...where are we?"
Orlan, noticing the sudden seriousness in the boy's eyes, was momentarily taken aback but still responded.
"We're with the slavers, young master. They came with the raiders. They've taken us—and probably the rest of the survivors. They plan to sell us in the eastern markets."
He glanced at the energy vehicles before continuing.
"From what I overheard, the house of Drakons might be safe for now. Your siblings and father are alright. The master fought back right after we escaped, with help from his brother, the emperor. It was an Imperial emergency, as the enemies attacked from all sides, resulting in numerous casualties... and sadly, the loss of your mother."
As the weight of the information sank in, Abaddon broke down, tears streaming as memories flooded his mind.
"Mother..." he whispered, his voice trembling.
Orlan placed a firm hand on the boy's shoulder, his tone steady but encouraging.
"She may be gone, but you're still here. You must endure. Remember, she loved you more than anything—it might be her final wish for you to live and carry on."
Abaddon clenched his fists, his teeth grinding in fury as tears continued to fall. Deep within his heart, he made a solemn vow.
'I'll destroy them all… this I swear on my very life.'
The energy vehicles raced over rugged terrain, the landscape transforming into towering mountains. The cries of ancient creatures echoed in the distance as the convoy entered the Black Lion Swamps, a treacherous habitat for countless myths.
Suddenly, piercing cries filled the air as a swarm of Carrion Crows descended upon the vehicles. These massive, four-winged crimson-eyed creatures, with serrated beaks and razor-sharp feathers, were notorious for feasting on the dead and spreading disease. Their Feather Storms slashed at the vehicles, while Decaying Breath corroded the metal plating.
"Carrion Crows!"
One soldier shouted in alarm.
Another soldier scoffed, using an appraisal stone to assess the threat.
"Relax. They're just Vermin Class-I myths. Not much of a threat. If they were higher-level myths with intelligence, then we'd have a problem."
The soldier leaned out of the vehicle, summoning a gun from his inventory. Channeling mantra energy into the weapon, he began firing with deadly precision.
As a one-star Common Rank Ranger class, specializing as a Gunslinger, he swiftly eliminated the Carrion Crows.
Abaddon quietly watched as the Ranker made quick work of the myths, he thought to himself.
'Myths...'
He paused for a moment, staring at the collosal birds falling one after the other.
'Ancient beasts that once ruled the mortal lands before humans existed. After humans and other mortal races took over, endless wars drove most of them to extinction. These creatures, like those crows, are low-level—Vermin Class-I. But even they seem terrifying...'
As the last of the Carrion Crows fell, the driver infused more mantra energy into the vehicle, pushing it to accelerate through the treacherous Black Lion Swamps.
Eventually, the convoy emerged from the swamps, entering Oasis, a vast, desolate wasteland infamous for its thriving slave trade. This region was under the iron grip of the notorious Black Hawk Guild, a ruthless faction renowned for their cruelty in the east.
The vehicles rumbled into a slave town—a hub of illegal activity where the rich and nobles came to purchase forbidden goods. It was a lawless black market, alive with shady dealings and whispered transactions.
The cage rattled as the cart vehicle came to a halt on the outskirts of the desert city. Curious eyes from the bustling streets turned toward them, staring as the convoy made its way into the town. Suddenly, a voice called out from the crowd.
"Rykage!"
A man emerged, weaving through the masses to greet the convoy leader. Rykage, a grim-faced figure, stepped out of his vehicle alongside his men. The two men seemed to be acquaintances.
"I see you've gotten yourself some fresh slaves"
The man said, clapping Rykage on the shoulder.
"You're really raking it in with this haul."
Rykage pulled a pipe from his pocket, lighting it with practiced ease. He inhaled deeply before exhaling a cloud of smoke, his eyes glancing briefly at the slaves being unloaded. With a casual wave, he instructed his men to bring them out.
Turning to the man beside him, Rykage spoke in a gravelly tone.
"Jones, you're as talkative as ever. This time, though, the catch is exceptional. We've got ourselves a noble prize."
Jones' eyes widened in shock as he glanced at the slaves being dragged from the cages. His expression paled as realization hit him.
While the two men spoke, a commotion broke out near the caravan.
Abaddon, restrained in chains but alert, noticed one of the soldiers harassing Eleanor under the pretense of guiding her out of the cage.
Without hesitation, Abaddon moved to intercept, stepping between Eleanor and the soldier before his hand could wander any further.
The soldier, visibly irritated, glared at Abaddon.
"You dare?"
He growled in a menacing tone.
Orlan and Eleanor, alarmed, rushed to pull Abaddon back, but it was too late. The soldier drew an energy whip, his voice low and threatening.
"You know the rules, boy. Don't think your royal blood means anything here. You're nothing but a slave now. Step out of line again, and I'll show you exactly where you belong."
The soldier's veins bulged with rage, gripping the whip tightly, but Abaddon stood his ground, meeting the man's glare with cold, empty eyes.
Internally, Abaddon reflected.
'Two weeks ago, I would've been shaking in my boots. But now… I feel nothing. No fear, no hesitation. Why is that? Am I just that angry?'
As the soldier raised the whip, Abaddon's expression shifted, his rage bubbling to the surface. He clenched his fists tightly, his teeth grinding as memories of his mother flooded his mind.
'Now I understand. This hatred inside me… it's because of him. He's part of it—part of the reason she's gone. I want to destroy him. I want to destroy them all.'
The change in Abaddon's demeanor seemed to unnerve the soldier, who grabbed him roughly by the collar. Before the situation could escalate, Orlan stepped forward, gently pushing Eleanor aside as he pleaded with the soldier.
"Please, let him go. He's just a boy."
The commotion caught the attention of the crowd and even Jones, who gestured toward Rykage. With a simple command, Rykage ordered the soldier to stand down. The soldier hesitated but ultimately complied, his eyes filled with resentment.
Orlan moved closer to Abaddon, checking him for injuries.
"Young master"
He spoke in a serious manner.
"why would you do that? That was reckless. Anything could've happened. You must keep your head down, or they'll single you out."
Abaddon gave a slight nod, his eyes lingering on Eleanor, who looked shaken by the ordeal. Despite the lingering rage burning within him, he felt helpless.
"I'll destroy them all."
He thought bitterly.
"But how? I'm just a powerless human."
As the tension settled, the convoy resumed its march. Under heavy guard, the slaves were herded toward a colossal structure looming on the horizon of the desert city—an auction house.