The air inside the encampment was suffocatingly thick—not from smoke or heat, but from the heavy, unrelenting pressure of countless gazes boring into them.
The atmosphere was drenched in silent tension, made worse by the piercing stares of both the common civilians and the finely dressed nobles who had gathered to spectate.
Each curious onlooker leaned closer against the transparent encampment walls, their eyes roaming with interest, judgment, or sheer disdain as they searched for something to mock, admire, or claim.
Even among the tightly packed crowd of slaves, Jinn couldn't escape the attention.
It clung to him like a second skin, inescapable and suffocating.
His crimson red hair blazed like a wildfire in the sea of dull-colored heads—it was a symbol too recognizable, too bold to go unnoticed.
It marked him, made him stand out in a place where standing out could mean the difference between life and death.
"Isn't that the kid…?"
"Crimson red—like House Sorellia…"
Murmurs began to circulate among the observers, spreading like wildfire through the crowd.
Whispers twisted into theories, and theories into rumor.
Word had already begun to spread about the child who had made a scene in the first ritual—some claimed he was nothing more than a rabid dog, others whispered that he was an apprentice of a member of House Sorellia, the empire's elite swordsmen, the Blades of Zerafhon.
Jinn kept his eyes ahead, deliberately avoiding contact.
His gaze was steady and unmoved, but in the corners of his vision, he could see the movements of the nobles.
Like predators in fine silks and expensive perfumes, they circled the encampment, inspecting the slaves like livestock at a market.
"This one is no good."
"Mhm—this one's far too old."
He heard them clearly, their clipped words delivered without emotion.
Their polished boots clicked softly against the pavement, and with every step they took, the pungent scent of overpowering perfumes grew stronger.
Some scents were sweet and floral, others musky and spiced, but all of them made Jinn's nose twitch and his stomach twist with revulsion.
It was an artificial stench, one that tried to mask the rot underneath.
Then, one noble stopped.
He was close.
Too close.
But Jinn wasn't his target.
Instead, the noble's eyes locked on Kain.
An elderly man with a flamboyantly colored coat, decorated in layered embroidery and shining golden threads, stepped into their path.
He moved with slow, exaggerated elegance, but the way his cloudy eyes settled on Kain sent a jolt of fear down Jinn's spine, not fear for himself but fear for his friend, Kain.
Without even a word, the noble snapped his wrinkled fingers
*snap!
and reached out with practiced entitlement.
His liver-spotted hand grabbed Kain's chin, tilting it left and right as if assessing a prized animal for sale.
Kain stood frozen, paralyzed in horror.
His knees trembled, his arms hung limp.
His face went pale as cold sweat trickled down his neck.
"You would do well as a pet for my daughter," the noble crooned, a vile smile curling up from the corners of his cracked lips.
"H-Heek—No!" Kain stammered, a pathetic squeak escaping as his eyes widened in terror.
Jinn's jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists.
"Over my… dy—" he growled lowly, the rest of his words caught in his throat.
The noble turned to him, brows furrowed in irritation.
"Mhm? What did you sa—"
He didn't finish.
Jinn's synthetic arm moved in a blur,
*HISS!!!
the hiss of its internal hydraulics punctuated by a loud,
*CRACK!
cracking smack as he slammed his fist into the noble's face.
The strike was powerful and merciless, sending the old man reeling backward and crashing to the ground in a heap.
"Over my dead body, you shitstain!" Jinn shouted, his voice now loud and clear.
*Hiss! *Hissss....
The metal plating on his arm hissed, releasing steam from the joints as he pulled his fist back.
The entire encampment fell into stunned silence.
Civilians gasped, nobles stood in disbelief, and even the other slaves gawked as whispers turned into outcries.
"You've got to be kidding me, Jinn…" muttered Evakhell beneath her breath, still disguised in the cold uniform of the warden.
"G-Get that brat!" screamed one of the other nobles, kneeling beside the one Jinn had just struck.
*VWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!
Alert! Alert! Slave resistance detected! Alert! Alert!
A powerful blare of a horn accompanied by the voice of an AI alerted the entire area before the resounding sound of heavy armored footsteps echoed.
*Thud! *Thud! *Thud! *Thud!
Two armored soldiers immediately rushed toward Jinn, their swords already unsheathed and ready to punish his defiance.
Their boots pounded against the stone with thunderous force, their blades gleaming beneath the artificial lights of the encampment.
Jinn didn't move at first, his arms slowly raising in preparation.
His feet shifted slightly, stance wide, ready for the impact.
His heart pounded—not from fear, but from anticipation.
But then, a voice called out.
"Jinn—heads up!"
Ophelia's voice pierced the chaos, and when Jinn snapped his head toward her, he saw something flying toward him—a wrapped object spinning through the air.
Yet the soldiers reached him first.
One swung from the right, a blade slicing downward at a sharp angle.
*Fwhip!
Jinn ducked low with a grunt, narrowly avoiding the first blow.
*thump!
He leapt into the air, catching the object mid-flight, and as he landed, his fingers unraveled the cloth to reveal—
a sword.
It wasn't just any sword.
It was light in his grip, yet sturdy.
Its blade shimmered with a familiar crimson hue—resonating in sync with the energy coursing through his veins.
It was his.
Fangeryth.
The blade hummed softly, as if recognizing its wielder.
Jinn didn't wait.
He counterattacked without hesitation, swinging the blade downward in a fiery arc toward the soldier who had just tried to cut him down.
The clang of metal echoed as their swords met—
*CLANG!
but Jinn's blade shimmered with a strange energy, that same crimson force that had once surged uncontrollably during the first ritual.
This time, however, it was no longer wild.
It no longer screamed or rampaged.
It was calm.
Controlled.
Tamed.
Jinn gritted his teeth as he pushed his weight forward.
Sparks burst from the collision until, finally, the soldier's blade cracked and shattered, unable to withstand the force.
"W-What is this strength!?" the soldier grunted.
Jinn's sword followed through,
*SLASH!
slashing across the man's chest in a violent spray of blood.
"ARGH—you little shit!" the soldier roared, stumbling backward before throwing a punch in desperation.
*fwhip!
Jinn twisted sideways to dodge the strike, but another soldier was already charging in from the left.
The crowd beyond the walls gasped and then cheered, the chaos unfolding like a spectacle for their entertainment.
"Hahaha! That brat's got some guts!"
"Woo! Look at him go!"
Jinn ducked again, barely avoiding the slash, then countered with a rapid flurry of blows using his synthetic arm.
*Bang! *BANG! *BANG!!!
The force of each strike sent shudders through his arm, but his movements were sharp—precise.
He was no longer just surviving.
He was fighting.
And he was winning.
One soldier faltered, his grip loosening.
"This c-cant be..."
Jinn lunged.
A swift thrust.
*Crack!
The crimson blade drove straight into the soldier's chest.
"J-Just a kid…" the man choked, eyes wide in disbelief before the life left them.
Jinn exhaled sharply and yanked the sword free.
The soldier dropped lifelessly to the ground with a dull thud.
The encampment once again fell into silence.
.
.
.
Then came the sound of footsteps.
Soft.
Steady.
Measured.
Jinn turned and raised his blade defensively.
A figure approached from the shadows, his towering form casting a long silhouette across the ground.
He was tall, built like a warrior.
Crimson red hair—like Venedix.
A massive blade rested upon his back, sheathed in an ornate scabbard.
*clap! *clap! *clap...
He clapped slowly, a smirk curling on his lips.
"Bravo," the man said smoothly, stopping a few paces away.
He leaned forward slightly, eyes drifting to the sword in Jinn's hand.
"Fangeryth… one of Venedix's blades," he muttered with interest.
Then his gaze locked with Jinn's.
"So you're the rumored apprentice?"