Walking down the large hallway once more, Lewis still could not help but go over the story MycValen told him, about poor young Simon and his dreams, about his mother and her loss...
About his father and his relationship with him
Bang!
"Oof! What was tha– Oh, right, sorry..."
Crashing into a wall, Lewis snapped from his stupor, only to later realise he had, in fact, crashed into one of the large shields that Palace guards were wearing. Seeing them stare back at him, displeased, Lewis hurriedly shook his head before apologising to them. Rolling their eyes, the one to his left quickly waved at him to move on, to enter the royal throne room. "Quick, in ya go! We can't have the Great Chief waiting for ya!"
Chuckling at Lewis's nervous reaction, the guard chuckled restrainedly, before shoving Lewis in.
"Fu–!"
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"Damn it! Can't they be more civic!? That arsehole nearly popped off my shoulder!"
"Shut up! If dad hears you talking, he might fucking renege the deal, leading us to get steel from other places. And trust me when I say this–
We won't get the steel we need from other places, not with this quality..."
Seeing the two grumbling right in front of him, Magnus grew irritated at their disrespect towards him. Neevemind the fact he was the king of the Steelrun Clan, as a tier-8 Warrior Smith, they were spitting outright at his face!
Clang!
With a loud jolt, Magnus brought down the large hammer that was in his hands, startling the two. "Do you think I'm fucking deaf!? I gave you some of my precious time out of my busy schedule, to hear your plans on how you shall convince me that this...deal... would be beneficial to me and the Clan. But this– bickering in front of my throne, thinking I can't hear you lot at all!? I might as well just cancel the whole preposterous idea, considering that none of you are taking it seriously..."
Growing pale, Simon quickly stood up, wanting to defend himself, only to be shot down by the silent death stare from his father. "Usually, I'd have kicked you lot out of the throne room, deporting you out of this city. But, since you're my...son, I might give you another chance to listen to your proposal. But, there is a big but here, you have to do me a favour first..."
At these ominous words, Simon could not help but feel his stomach slowly sink to the bottom...
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"Hey, move it! We don't have all the time today!"
Thwack, thwack...
With another fwip, the Himan overseer whipped the Wulfin boy at his back again, this causing a 2-inch wide gash to form where the Dragonskin-clad whip had struck. Steeling in the pain, the one-eared Wulfin began mining faster than ever, his hands swinging higher, faster...
Harder
It had been around three years since he and the rest of his village had been kidnapped by the Empire's soldiers (who had been disguised as soldiers all along) and forced to come to this remote location of a land. Once they were inspected, pickaxes were shoved onto their hands, ordering them to mine as many ores as possible.
Due to them being Beastmen, they were given a strict quota of 20 kg a day. For younger ones, they were lenient– only 19 kg...
Lenientmy fucking ass! Last week I had to bury old man Zwelt, beaten to death just cause he failed to procure 20 kg of iron ore– He was sick with the plague for the last three days!
Though they outnumbered the overseers 1000 to 1, they dared not to, for behind them lay the terrible beasts...
Faces jutting from all angles, they moaned constantly, their myriad faces filled with anguish and cries for death. Arms splaying everywhere, they heeded the command of the cruel overseers, obeying every wretched order given. During the first rebellion, any of their kind led an assault against the cruel overseers. Despite having an army of 10,000 Beastmen, their resistance barely lasted an hour, much less a day.
To this day, he still remembers the carnage that occurred that day...
Spellsof all sorts were launched from the many faces, ranging from tier-3 Iceballs to the legendary Forbidden spells. Their constant howling fro death made it all the more eery, giving him PTSD. For the next few days, all he could see i. His nightmares were the crying faves of everyone who were killed that day, men and women. The most haunting of them all were the children the beast ate as it lumbered through the battlefield, their cries for help going unanswered...
As Bwird continued mining, the lone abomination sauntered past him, crunching eating, swallowing yet another hapless soul that wandered in here.
"Unhand me you wretched beast! I carry the command of the Great Chieftain of Clan Steelrun, Magnus the– AAARRRGGGHHH!"
With a sickening crunch, the beats tore apart the body, guzzling the still-bleeding body into its great stomach...
Please, someone, anyone...
Please save us...