Dozens upon dozens of myriads were enslaved. However, one is unique among them all. He was what is called a writer, a bard, or whatever they were called at the time.
In all his life, this was his most unfortunate moment, just as when he was about to leave the frontier city after gathering information about the status quo on the frontline, it was also the time when the frontier fell into the hands of the ghouls. Thereby, shrinking further the space that the myriads are able to live comfortably, and the sea of darkness expands further into their domain.
He was just that unfortunate, and so he could only plead to the gods for mercy after his death. Right now, he is nothing more than livestock; any form of redemption or freedom is already out of reach.
