When Garen woke up, he saw a half-collapsed ceiling.
Sunlight struck him directly in the eyes, so bright it felt like it burned his retinas. He instinctively squeezed them shut and even covered them with his injured arm. It took several seconds for his vision to adjust. Then he opened his eyes again and looked around.
The surroundings fit the description of a "temporary shelter." The room matched the ceiling. The stone walls were cracked, weeds grew here and there, and broken roof tiles and gravel were scattered across the floor.
His body welcomed him back in its own way. The moment he woke up, his wounds made themselves known. A sharp pain stabbed through his chest, and he coughed up blood.
"He's awake! Go get Reus and Kai!" someone shouted, the voice hitting his ears like a war drum.
"Where am I? What happened after I passed out? Did we... actually escape?"
His thoughts moved slowly and heavily, as if they were stuck in thick tar. Garen had never been particularly quick-witted, and after being unconscious for so long, his head worked even worse than usual.
His confusion did not last long. A few moments later, the anxious Reus and Kai rushed over to him. One clutched a waterskin against his chest as tightly as if it were a treasure. The other carried a loaf of bread, paying no attention to the crumbs falling from the crust with every step.
Garen could not remember a single time in his life when anyone had worried about him this much.
Ever since his tribe had fallen, his entire existence had become an endless cycle: training, eating, working, sleeping, then starting all over again. In the slave camp, he had been nothing more than a body, a tool sharpened and polished in the hope of selling it for a better price.
That was why the excitement over his awakening stirred warmth deep within Garen's heart.
"Brother..." Reus leaned forward, unable to hold himself back. "I know what you want to ask. Yes, we really escaped. We're free now. We actually did it. It's just that... Leo..."
He stopped there, as if he had run into an invisible wall.
He did not need to say anything else. The mere mention of Leo's name wiped away all of Garen's joy, as though a knife had been driven straight into his heart.
Trying to swallow the lump in his throat, Garen began to groan like a wounded beast. Tears spilled from his eyes against his will.
At the same time, something boiled inside him.
"That bastard! How dare he! I'm the team's tank! I'm supposed to be the first and last line of defense! Since when did he become so damn reckless?!"
"Leo... you better survive. So I can strangle you with my own hands."
The old door creaked open again, and Garen immediately fell silent.
He could curse Leo all he wanted in front of his own people, but he would never allow outsiders to hear a single bad word about him. Not after everything Leo had done for them.
Grey entered the room.
His face looked gaunt. Dark circles hung beneath his eyes, and bruises from exhaustion stood out clearly along his cheekbones. He had not slept all night.
First, he had led the children out of the city in two separate groups to avoid attracting attention. Then, following the previous day's trail, he guided them deep into the forest and toward the abandoned estate.
Fortune could be a fickle goddess, yet this time she seemed almost caring.
Not a single beast attacked the group of weakened children in the dark forest. Perhaps it was still Panther's territory, and the other predators had not yet caught wind of her death. Or perhaps they had simply been lucky.
Either way, they reached their destination without incident.
Once they arrived at the estate, Grey immediately realized that Garen's wounds could not wait. They were too deep, too filthy, too dangerous. No matter how careful the carriers had been, transporting a man on the brink of death could never be easy.
A moment more of delay, and Grey would have ended up with a corpse instead of a subordinate.
He took the wounded into a separate room and got to work at once. First came cutting away the dead flesh. Then cleaning the wounds, bandaging them, and administering minor healing potions.
But even potions could not perform miracles.
He spent the entire night tending to Garen without closing his eyes once. By the time the work was finally done, Grey wanted only one thing: to collapse onto the floor and sink into a deep, bottomless sleep.
Even so, the moment he heard the shout, he immediately understood.
Garen had awakened.
Without a second thought, Grey hurried to the room.
"That bastard... why is he shouting so much?" an irritated thought flashed through Grey's mind. "Isn't he afraid his wounds will reopen? And how dare he waste my goodwill like this?"
But the moment he stepped through the doorway, he immediately sensed the strange atmosphere hanging over the room. The boys looked at him differently than before. Gratitude and hidden tension mixed in their eyes, respect intertwined with barely concealed resentment.
He understood them. This was exactly the kind of attitude he had been worried about.
He had not been there during the escape. He had avoided the fate that had befallen them. No matter how logical that division of roles had been, the pain of loss had not disappeared.
Grey took a deep breath and pushed aside the unnecessary thoughts.
"I'm glad to see you've woken up," he said calmly. "If you're already capable of shouting... then you're going to live."
He walked over to the bed and, without ceremony, pressed down on Garen's shoulder, forcing him to lie back down.
"Now then," Grey continued, "tell me. What exactly happened there?"
A heavy silence settled over the room. No one was eager to begin.
"What, did you swallow your tongues?" Grey snapped. He did not like the looks the boys were giving him. They were almost hostile.
"I understand this is a difficult subject. But in case you've forgotten... I was the one responsible for the planning. Every sacrifice is on my conscience. So whether you like it or not, I need to know what happened."
Alen was the first to recover.
Wounded and still pale, he lay beside Garen and had only recently opened his eyes. After hearing Grey's words, he slowly turned his head and fell silent for a moment. His fingers instinctively tightened around his wrist, rubbing the pale mark left by the chain that still had not faded.
"You're asking what happened there..." he rasped quietly. "What's there to tell?"
His breathing grew heavy. The flood of emotions and his unhealed wounds made themselves known the moment he opened his mouth. Even so, now that he had started, he intended to finish the story. Whether for Grey's sake or his own.
"Just as you predicted, the five of us were bought at the auction. All at once. For thirty silver coins. No one even tried to bargain. It was like everything had been decided beforehand. They loaded us into a wagon and took us toward the Arakis Desert, where a caravan was already waiting... Cough, cough."
Seeing that it was becoming harder and harder for Alen to continue, Kai stepped in.
"A hundred others just like us. And thirty cultists. Not one more, not one less. Long chains. They shackled us in groups of ten or twelve. Cold at night, blazing heat during the day. Hell if I know where they were taking us."
He spoke through clenched teeth, as if every memory had to be ripped out by force. Such fierce hatred seeped through his words that it sent chills down the spine. And this was Kai, whom Grey had always considered the most easygoing member of the group.
Grey said nothing and simply let the boys vent the emotions that had been building up inside them.
"They rode lizards and mules and never shut up about the mercy of the flame, its blessings, and all that other nonsense. They kept saying they were doing a good deed and that our souls would remain pure forever. Tch..."
Kai grimaced and spat to the side.
"And we walked. One after another. The sun burned so fiercely it felt like it wanted to peel the skin right off our heads. The iron was old and rusty... but strong. The shackles bit into our wrists, and that cursed sand rubbed them raw until they bled."
"They fed us. Poorly, but they fed us. Just enough to keep us from collapsing. They gave us only enough water to keep us from dying," Garen interrupted, clearly wanting to voice his own grievances as well.
Grey silently absorbed every word as the boys described their grim experience one after another. Ironically, he had gone through something similar when he first awakened in this world, but he had no intention of mentioning it. Compared to what the boys had endured, his own experience seemed almost idyllic.
At last, Reus reached the most important part.
"I was in charge of the escape."
He leaned against the wall and spun a dagger between his fingers, as if he would feel naked without it. The cold metal gave him a sense of support. His thoughts flowed more smoothly, and all his nervousness and irritation found an outlet through the glint of steel.
"The shackles were fastened with a long clasp. In theory, it could be bent open if you knew how. I noticed it on the first day. We had no tools. We used the edges of the chains, sand... and our fingernails. I tore off three of them before I managed to free myself."
He fell silent, clenching his fingers as though reliving the pain.
Grey glanced at Reus's nails and immediately shuddered, but remained silent.. Again.
"I didn't dare escape on the first day. It was too risky to act alone while everyone else was still chained. If I had failed back then, they would have slaughtered the others. So we waited. We waited for a moment when the cultists' vigilance weakened, even a little. That happened on the third day.
"It's hard to keep track of a hundred children, even when they're all in chains.
"Achilles was in the group next to ours. He looked like the most composed one, ready to run at the first opportunity, so I brought him into the plan. He distracted the guards while I mixed sleeping powder into the stew. Heh... he took quite a beating because of it. But he endured it without making a sound."
Reus raised his head and looked directly into Grey's eyes.
"The poison didn't work immediately. First, one of the cultists doubled over. Nobody paid attention. They thought the water had gone bad. But by nightfall, every one of them was sleeping like the dead."
"We started moving. They were drugged, sluggish... but they were still adults. Killing them wasn't easy. We used the torn-off clasps as makeshift shivs and took down seven of them."
Reus tightened his grip on the dagger.
"Then everything went wrong. Someone made noise. Not everyone managed to stay calm like Achilles. When the children saw us attacking, they scattered in every direction. They forgot they were still chained to one another. Panic broke out. A stampede."
"Some were trampled to death. Others were stabbed by cultists awakened by the commotion."
"It was chaos. Pure chaos."
He let out a long breath.
"That's when Garen got wounded."
At the mention of his name, Garen ground his teeth and abruptly cut in.
"Idiots! Even I know when you need to move quietly. When you need to hold back! Who would've thought that a cultist lying there half-dead would suddenly jump up and slash me with a sword like a madman?!"
He clenched his jaw so hard that blood appeared on his lips. Garen understood perfectly well that, in that moment of weakness, Leo had been forced to take over the role of the shield.
"Shut up, Garen! Let Reus finish," Alen interrupted, feeling much the same way. "Who could've known panic would break out? We were all too confident when we decided to get rid of all of them at once."
Reus took a breath and continued.
"Then we heard shouting. We saw torches in the distance. They weren't ours. Reinforcements had arrived. That's when we realized we had to run."
"The ten people chained together with Achilles were the only ones who stayed relatively calm. They waited for us. We left together. We ran through the darkness, hiding behind dunes, hoping the pursuers would lose our trail."
A crooked smile appeared on Reus's face.
"There were ten groups. They all scattered in different directions. And of course, it was our group that got chased. Leo was the first to spot the torches."
"He didn't say a word. He just hit me over the head and knocked me unconscious." Unable to hold himself back, Garen stirred again and started rising from the bed, but Reus stopped him with a gesture and continued.
"I was the only one who knew how to hide and could lead the group," he said wearily, as though he had been forced to justify himself over and over again. "To draw the pursuit away, someone had to leave a false trail. Leo took the chain and went in the opposite direction."
"We walked in each other's footprints. Made it look like only one person was traveling. That's why we survived. That's how we reached Thorn's Cloaca."
Reus raised his eyes to Grey.
"That's the whole story. After that... you already know the rest."
Grey silently tapped his fingers together as he considered everything he had just heard.
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