The cold, sharp edge of the rock was pressed tightly against the intruder's throat, already breaking the skin and drawing a thin bead of warm blood. Kaelos's movements had been lightning-fast, his strike decisive and brutal, a pure reflection of his past life's instincts as a master assassin and executioner. A fraction more pressure from his wrist, and this fragile life would be snuffed out in the silent darkness.
"Don't… don't kill me!" The boy was petrified, trembling like a leaf in the wind. A foul stench suddenly emanated from his trousers—he had wet himself in sheer terror.
"Who are you? Why are you here?" Kaelos's voice was utterly devoid of warmth, like the ancient ice in the deepest parts of the mine, each word a hammer blow against the boy's frayed nerves.
"I… my name is Leo… I was just… cough, cough… just looking for a place to hide…" the boy explained between violent coughs, his voice choked with sobs. He was gravely ill; every breath was a ragged, wheezing sound, the tell-tale sign of "dust-lung," a slow and agonizing disease common among the mine slaves.
"Hiding?" Kaelos didn't relax his grip in the slightest. He could feel the desperate bobbing of the boy's throat against the stone.
"Yes… yes… I'm too weak, I can't dig enough ore… I was afraid… afraid I'd be chosen for the next Blood Sacrifice… cough, cough… so I snuck into this old tunnel to hide for a few days… I didn't mean to… I swear I didn't hear anything!" Leo pleaded incoherently, his eyes filled with the raw terror of death.
Kaelos remained silent, his mind racing at incredible speed. Killing him was the simplest, safest option. It would eliminate any risk of the plan being leaked. In his past life, he had killed more people than there were stones in this mine; he shouldn't hesitate to take one insignificant life. A masterful strategist never allows for unplanned variables.
However, just as his killing intent surged, a blurry image flashed through his mind—a passive trigger of his [Shards of Prescience]. In the vision, this boy, Leo, didn't die in the riot. Instead, months later, he died alone of sickness and starvation in some filthy corner of the mines, unnoticed like a stray dog. But right before he died, he used his talent for lifelike vocal mimicry to imitate an overseer's voice, tricking a kitchen slave into giving him a life-saving piece of black bread…
Vocal mimicry? A seemingly useless talent, but at the right moment, it could have an unexpectedly powerful effect.
"Don't… don't kill him…" Liliana, standing to the side, couldn't help but speak up, her voice trembling. She saw in this dying boy a reflection of herself just a short time ago—just as helpless, just as alone, waiting for death.
Kaelos glanced at her, and the scales in his mind tipped. It wasn't pity. It was the cold calculation of a master Go player evaluating a piece on the board. Any piece, no matter how insignificant, could shift the entire game if placed correctly. In his past life, he had failed precisely because he put too much faith in the powerful "pieces" and ignored the variables hidden in the dust.
He slowly withdrew the sharpened rock. Staring into Leo's terrified eyes, he spoke coldly, "If you want to live, prove you have value. You're one of us now, a locust on the same string. You can either fight your way out of here with us, or I can send you to meet the mountain spirits right now."
Caught between the threat of immediate death and the instinct for survival, Leo chose the former without a moment's hesitation. He collapsed to the ground, offering Kaelos his pathetic, worthless loyalty.
And so, the makeshift riot squad gained its fourth member.
Kaelos wasted no time. He had to immediately integrate this "accident" into his plan. He stared at Leo, whose frame was made even smaller by his illness, and coolly assessed his value.
"You," Kaelos began, his voice holding an authority that could not be defied, "have a mission more important, and more dangerous, than either of them."
Leo flinched, looking at him with a mixture of tension and confusion.
"You're sick and unremarkable. The overseers don't even bother to look at you twice. That is your greatest camouflage," Kaelos said, a glint of cold intellect in his eyes. "From this moment on, you are my eyes and my ears. I want you to leave this tunnel, go back to the main mining area, and watch every single overseer."
He began issuing specific orders, each one clear and precise. "I need to know how many guards are at the main gate. How often do the shifts change? How many paths lead there from here, and which has the weakest patrols? Which overseers are the most sadistic, and which are the most cowardly? And most importantly…"
Kaelos paused, his voice dropping to a demonic whisper. "Find the other slaves who, like us, refuse to die here. Watch them. See if the fire in their eyes is real. But remember: you only watch. You don't say a word. Your mission is to bring me back a complete map—a battle map of guards, routes, and the hearts of men."
His words sent a shock through Liliana and Bolin. They had thought this was just a simple, brutish jailbreak. But the meticulous strategy and grand scope Kaelos revealed were far beyond anything they could have imagined.
He wasn't just planning a riot; he was orchestrating a war.
Leo was so stunned he forgot to cough. He had never imagined that he, a burden whom everyone despised, could be given such an important "mission." The feeling of being needed, of having value, sent a warmth through his blood for the first time.
"I… I understand!" he said, nodding vigorously, a new, determined light shining in his eyes.
"Go," Kaelos waved him off. "And remember, your life is your own. If you dare to betray us, I guarantee that Grak's methods will seem like a baby's game compared to mine."
Leo shuddered, any thought of treachery vanishing from his mind. He quickly turned, his small figure disappearing into the dark tunnel. In the oppressive gloom of the underground, the first fledgling chick of a vast, future intelligence network that would one day make the continent tremble—the "Crow's Nest"—had just hatched.
Time passed. The second day, the day of the Blood Sacrifice ritual, arrived.
The atmosphere in the mine was suffocating. The air was thick with despair and the stench of death. The slaves worked in silence, a procession of condemned souls marching toward the executioner's block.
At dawn, Leo slipped back into Tunnel 7 like a ghost. The intelligence he brought back was even more detailed than Kaelos had hoped. Not only had he figured out the guard rotation, he had even overheard the overseers talking. Grak, wanting to claim all the glory for himself, had already sent away several rival foremen on various pretexts.
This meant that when the riot began, the command structure they faced would be in utter disarray.
"Well done," Kaelos offered his first-ever word of praise, causing Leo's face to flush with pride.
All the pieces were in place. Liliana's alchemical explosives were packed and ready. Bolin's sabotage of key structural points was complete. Leo's intelligence had filled in the final, critical gap in the plan.
Kaelos gathered the three of them for a final briefing, his sharp, eagle-like gaze sweeping over their tense faces.
His eyes landed first on Liliana. "There are three packets of explosives. The largest one goes under the boulder I showed you. The other two go on the load-bearing structures on either side of the tunnel. The moment Grak walks to the end of the tunnel with his torch is your signal to leave. Get out as fast as you can. I don't want the 'treasure' I've invested in to be buried on its first day."
Liliana clutched the cloth packets and nodded firmly, her eyes showing not fear, but resolve.
Next, he looked at Bolin. "The explosion is your signal. Remember, your goal isn't to fight any single overseer. Your only mission is to get to the main gate and use all of your strength to destroy the winch and chains that control it! If that gate is ever raised, we will lose our only chance."
"I… I understand!" Bolin pounded his chest, which echoed with a dull, drum-like thud.
Finally, Kaelos looked at Leo. "Your task is the most crucial. After the explosion, you will blend in with the other slaves. Use your vocal mimicry to imitate the overseers' shouts. Use any means necessary to stir up their emotions. You only need to make them remember one word—'Gate'! Make every desperate man charge in that direction. We need their bodies to absorb the first volley of arrows."
His words were cold and cruel, but they were the bloody truth. Leo gritted his teeth and nodded, a crazed look appearing on his sickly face.
"Alright. To your positions."
Just then, the sound of steady footsteps echoed from outside the tunnel. An overseer appeared at the entrance, holding a torch that stretched his shadow long and thin behind him.
"Number 734! The Chief Overseer is waiting for you! Get your ass out here!"
The final moment had arrived.
Kaelos gave his three followers one last, cold look. It contained no encouragement, only the absolute will that forbade failure. Then, he turned and walked out of the darkness toward the torchlight, striding willingly toward the beast he was about to lead into his trap.