The village under the night was filled with tranquility and peace.
No flashy lights, no bustling traffic.
What there were, were figures strolling on the village paths.
The recent bandit invasion made them cherish their serene life even more.
After Lynn's iron and blood indoctrination, and the temptation of food, the newly joined slaves became compliant and honest.
They were full of anticipation about becoming Master Lynn's slaves.
Unable to change their fate as slaves, being well-fed was their final prayer.
...
The night gradually deepened.
Among the cluster of slaves on the open ground, snores rose and fell in succession.
Ross, leaning against a pile of logs, had his eyes closed slightly, but his right arm was twisting back and forth.
Suddenly, his arm slackened.
The rope binding his wrist snapped in the middle.
Ross, holding the sharp edge of a Flint Blade, continued cutting the rope on his feet...
After a while, he opened his eyes.
