Njuwa was silent on the walk back to the slave quarters. The words of Baron Baran echoed in his mind.
"If you want to protect that sister of yours… you'd best learn quickly."
It wasn't a threat. It was a challenge.
When they reached the chamber, the guard shoved him inside before locking the gate behind him. The other boys were already awake, preparing for another grueling day under Overseer Goro. Some glanced at him with curiosity, others with envy.
Toro was waiting near the back, arms crossed. "Still alive, huh?"
Njuwa exhaled sharply. "For now."
Toro smirked. "What did the Baron want?"
"He tested me," Njuwa said simply. "I think he's trying to see if I'll break."
Toro scoffed. "He does that to all the strong ones. If he sees value in you, he'll mold you. If you resist… he'll crush you."
Njuwa narrowed his eyes. "And you? Have you been molded or crushed?"
Toro's smirk faltered, but before he could answer, the iron gate creaked open again.
Overseer Goro stepped in, his whip coiled at his waist. "On your feet, maggots! Training ground! Now!"
The boys scrambled to obey.
As they were herded outside, Njuwa took in the fortress surroundings with fresh eyes. The tall stone walls, the narrow windows, the guards stationed at key points—each detail a piece of the puzzle. Escape was impossible as he was now. But if he could grow stronger, gain trust, find allies…
The training yard was the same as the previous day—dusty, hot, filled with weapons and suffering. The older slaves stood watching, waiting to see who would break first.
Goro paced before them. "Yesterday, you learned how to take a hit. Today, you learn how to obey."
He turned to a stack of wooden buckets filled with sand. "Each of you, take one."
Njuwa lifted a bucket, feeling the weight immediately.
Goro pointed to a distant tower. "Run to the tower and back. Spill a single grain of sand, and you start over."
A groan ran through the group.
Goro's whip snapped. "MOVE!"
They ran.
The buckets were heavy, the sun was merciless, and every muscle in Njuwa's body screamed in protest. But he gritted his teeth and pressed forward.
One boy stumbled. His bucket tipped, spilling sand onto the ground. Goro didn't hesitate—his whip cracked across the boy's back.
"Start over!"
Toro, running beside Njuwa, muttered under his breath, "This isn't just training. It's a test."
Njuwa glanced at him. "What do you mean?"
"Baran's looking for something," Toro said. "Strength, yes. But also control. If you fight too hard, they beat you down. If you're too weak, they discard you. The trick is finding the balance."
Njuwa frowned but didn't reply.
By the time they returned to the training yard, his arms were trembling. Sweat dripped from his forehead, stinging his eyes. But he refused to collapse.
Goro studied them, his lip curling in disgust. "Pathetic. Again."
And so they ran.
By the third round, several boys had fallen. Some had fainted. Others were forced to start over.
Njuwa's legs burned, his lungs felt like they would burst. But he kept going. Not for Goro. Not for the Baron.
For Jua.
By the time Goro called an end to the training, the sky had darkened. The boys collapsed, panting. Even Toro, usually cocky, was silent.
Goro sneered. "Get used to this. Tomorrow will be worse."
The guards herded them back to their chamber, where stale bread and water awaited them. Njuwa ate slowly, his mind still racing.
Toro sat beside him, wincing as he stretched his sore limbs. "You did well."
Njuwa swallowed a piece of bread. "It's not enough."
Toro glanced at him. "You're really set on surviving, huh?"
"Not just surviving," Njuwa said quietly. "Winning."
Toro chuckled. "Then you'd better learn fast, because this place is more than just whips and training. The real battle isn't fought in the yard. It's fought in the shadows."
Njuwa frowned. "What do you mean?"
Toro leaned in, voice low. "Baran's fortress isn't just a prison. It's a battlefield. There are factions among the slaves—those who serve willingly, those who resist, and those who play both sides. If you're not careful, you'll be crushed before you even realize who your real enemies are."
Njuwa's grip tightened on his cup of water.
Toro smirked. "The question is—where will you stand?"
Njuwa didn't answer.
Because he already knew.
He would stand above them all.