The sound of breathing began to fade gradually, and silence started to reign, broken only by Ox's irregular breaths. After a few minutes, both their bodies began to cool, and the unbearable smell became torture. Nathan, remembering Ox's condition, looked at the injured arm, which was so filthy it was impossible to even see the wound.
"Damn it, if this continues, you won't make it. The infection will kill you very quickly."
Making up his mind, Nathan headed toward the ladder at the back of the latrine they had used to climb up after digging. It consisted of old wooden stumps driven into the wall, something befitting slaves.
After struggling to free himself from the filth, he climbed slowly without making a sound to see if he could loosen the board above the ladder. Without much effort, the board moved, and he poked his head out of the hole, his heart skipping beats for fear that a monster might remain.
Looking at the hut, the scene that awaited him was simply terrifying. Body parts scattered everywhere, entrails, arms, legs, and devoured torsos. Looking at the corner where the older children stayed, he couldn't hold it back anymore and vomited. There, a boy slightly older than him lay without eyes and with his stomach eaten away; even without eyes, one could see he had died with an expression of suffering.
Wiping the corner of his mouth with a trembling, dirty hand, Nathan forced himself to look away from the massacre. The acidic taste of vomit mixed with the stench of the latrine created an almost uncontrollable gag reflex, but he swallowed dryly.
If I don't do something, Ox will end up just like them, he thought, the image of the eyeless boy burning in his mind. Thrown into a ditch like a piece of rotten meat.
He descended the rotten wooden stumps again, returning to the stifling darkness where the giant lay agonizing. Upon reaching the bottom, he walked until he found Ox's shoulder. The boy was shivering violently now, the fever from the infection and blood loss taking their toll too quickly.
Ox murmured in delirium for the first time since they met: "Ox strong... Ox alive!"
That word was like a trigger. Nathan remembered. After all hell broke loose, after Ox shot the rat, at that moment, a strange noise popped into his mind, something he had ignored in the heat of the moment.
The System, Nathan thought, clinging to the idea like a castaway to a plank. If this is like the stories, I must have gained something.
He closed his eyes in the darkness, focusing all his will on summoning that interface again.
"Open," he whispered desperately. "Inventory. Status. Whatever shit you are, appear!"
As if responding to his mental command, a translucent bluish screen glowed softly in the darkness, illuminating Ox's dirty, pale face with a ghostly light.
[Surprise Reward]
Disciple: Ox (Bond: Devout)
Feat: Eliminate a mundane monster for the first time!
Pending Rewards: [Mundane Healing Pill]
Ding!
[Reward Received]
Received: 1x Mundane Healing Pill (Grade: Mortal Trash).
Description: A basic alchemical pill made from blood herbs. Only useful for people who have not started progressing on the cultivation path.
A tiny weight materialized in his right hand. It was a red sphere, small and hard, exuding a refreshing scent of medicinal herbs that fought bravely against the stench of the latrine.
"I hope this isn't poison," Nathan whispered.
He gripped Ox's chin tightly, forcing the giant's mouth open.
"Swallow," Nathan ordered, shoving the pill down the boy's throat. "Swallow if you want to live."
The giant obeyed, moved more by survival instinct than understanding. He dry-swallowed the pill, coughing immediately after.
For a few seconds, nothing happened. The oppressive silence of the latrine seemed to mock Nathan's hope. Was it fake? Does "Mortal Trash" grade mean it doesn't work?
But then, Ox let out a hoarse groan, his large body arching backward as if struck by an electric shock.
"Hot!" he whispered, his voice trembling with panic.
"Hold on," Nathan hissed, gripping his shoulder tightly to keep him still. "It's the medicine. Let it burn."
Even in the near-total darkness, Nathan could see the effect. Thick veins popped out on Ox's neck, pulsing with renewed vigor. It wasn't a gentle, magical healing like in games; it was brutal and invasive. Ox's body began to emit steam, a dark, oily sweat starting to drip from his pores, mixing with the filth of the latrine.
Nathan stared at the giant's mangled arm. The blood, which had been flowing worryingly before, began to clot at a speed visible to the naked eye. The torn tissue of the flesh writhed, muscle fibers reconnecting like small living worms. It didn't look pretty, it looked painful as hell, but it was working.
Ox stopped shivering from the cold. His breathing, previously shallow and wheezing, became deep and rhythmic, like the bellows of an old furnace starting up again.
Nathan rested his head against the damp earthen wall, feeling the adrenaline drain from his body, leaving behind only exhaustion and a sharp pain in his own back. The System is real, he thought, a cynical smile curving his lips in the dark. Cruel, petty, and demanding I crawl through shit... but it is real.
They stayed there for an indeterminate time. Minutes? Hours? Time seemed distorted in the darkness. Nathan used this time to clear his mind and assume the persona he would soon need to use: that of a terrified, idiotic slave. He knew that surviving the monsters was only the first step. Surviving the mine's "management" would be the second.
Suddenly, the sound of heavy boots and shouting voices broke the silence outside.
"Looks like all those vermin really died," a deep voice shouted.
"Check the surroundings! If there are any live Mole Rats, kill them! If there are any live slaves... bring them out!"
Orange torchlights began to dance through the cracks in the boards above them, cutting the darkness of the hole with beams of dusty light.
Nathan squeezed Ox's arm, who was already awake and alert, though he still seemed dizzy.
"Listen carefully," Nathan whispered urgently. "When they find us, you didn't fight. You didn't kill anything. Understood? We hid here and stayed quiet. The monster tripped and died on its own. If they realize it was you who killed it, we won't have any chance of getting out alive."
Ox blinked, confused, but the loyalty in his eyes was absolute; he simply nodded, whatever that meant to him.
"Good boy, I guess."
Seconds later, the boards above their heads were ripped away violently. The sudden torchlight blinded Nathan momentarily, forcing him to shield his eyes with a dirty arm.
"Sir! Here! There are two in the latrine!" a guard shouted, covering his nose with his cloak immediately after. "By the gods, the smell..."
A bearded, stern face appeared at the edge of the hole. It was one of the assistant foremen, a man known for whipping anyone who took too long to eat. He held a torch in one hand and a short sword in the other, the blade still clean. He looked down with an expression of pure disgust.
"Get out of there, vermin! Now!"
Nathan helped Ox up. The climb was humiliating, slipping in the filth, with guards pointing crossbows at them as if they were monsters about to attack. When they finally rolled onto the dirt floor of the hut, Nathan coughed, hunching over in a submissive posture, shaking on purpose.
The hut was full of armed men now. They kicked the children's body parts aside to clear a path, with no respect for the dead.
The Head Foreman of Mine 9 entered the room. He stopped in front of the Mole Rat's corpse, the one Ox had crushed. The monster lay there, with brain fluids scattered on the floor.
The Foreman kicked the beast's carcass, assessing the damage. Then, his cold eyes turned to Nathan and Ox, the only survivors in that slaughterhouse.
"You two," he said, his voice calm and dangerous. He approached, the smell of blood and sweat emanating from him, contrasting with the stench of the two slaves. "Everyone else is dead. Shredded. But you are alive. And this beast here..." He pointed his sword at the rat's crushed head. "...was killed with brute force."
Nathan's heart froze. He knew what the Foreman was thinking: Slaves don't have the strength to kill beasts. If they do, they are dangerous.
The Foreman brought the tip of his sword close to Nathan's neck, lifting his chin. "Who killed this? Answer the truth, and I might let you live to clean up this mess."
Nathan widened his eyes, forcing tears to gather in the corners. He made his body shake even more violently.
"We don't know, sir! When it all started, the first thing we thought was to hide; the only choice was to jump into the latrine!"
"Hmph, that story is still full of holes," the Foreman snorted, lowering the sword. The story was ridiculous, but the alternative that a retarded slave and a scrawny boy killed a beast with their bare hands was even more absurd to his arrogant mind. "Fool's luck. Filthy rats dying in shit, appropriate."
He sheathed his sword and turned to the other guards.
"Take these two to the washing area. Throw water on them before this smell sets the camp on fire. And send someone to clean up the bodies here. Tomorrow morning, I want this hut ready for the new batch of slaves."
"And what do we do with them afterward, sir?" asked a guard.
The Foreman paused at the door, looking back over his shoulder. "They survived. That means they can still hold a pickaxe. Put them on the morning shift in the Deep Section of Mine 9. We need to make up for the quota lost today."
As the guards began pushing them out of the destroyed hut, Nathan allowed himself to release the breath he had been holding in his lungs.
The Deep Section of Mine 9.
As he stepped outside, feeling the cool morning air for the first time in hours, Nathan looked up at the sky. The sun was beginning to rise. He glanced at Ox, walking beside him, alive and healed.
We survived the night, Nathan thought, his fists clenching discreetly at his sides. And I gained my first resource. Deep Mine 9? Great. The deeper it is, the more shadows for me to hide in.
He was no longer just a surviving slave. He was a Patriarch on the rise, and the world would soon discover that the filth he crawled out of was the perfect fertilizer for his growth.