Elias and I were brought to an interrogation room–it was familiar, probably the same one from my first day in this world. The tension hung thick, lingering like damp mildew on the walls, but to be completely honest, I was somewhat relieved. Happy to be out of that cell, to see something beyond sleeping quarters and labor yards. Anyway, it began–this time, I could speak and understand.
"The two of you were brought here based on rumors of a revolt you're apparently plotting," the lead guard said, his voice gravelly, eyes cold as steel. "We don't care much about you two, make the attempt and we'll hang your heads publicly. What caught our attention was the supposed involvement of one of our own. We don't take kindly to weeds in our ranks. Tell us who's been helping, and you're free to return to your routine. If you won't talk, we have other means." He gestured to another guard behind him who smirked, fondling a dagger.
Hmm, so someone had overheard us and snitched. I do recall one prisoner who would eye our cell quite frequently, I think they called him… Torren. Luckily, there wasn't enough proof to doom us… in modern America, anyway. Here? This was enough to get us killed. Silence stretched before Elias spoke.
"Oh my, do you really think I'd attempt such a thing now? I admitted defeat to Braunus ages ago. Why rebel now?"
You sly devil. Elias was showing off, but what did he mean by "admitted defeat?" Was he infamous or something? I stayed quiet, letting him lead.
"Quiet, traitor," the guard snarled. "You dare spout our king's name with that treacherous mouth? We've heard all about your teaching of this boy here," he pointed in my direction. "How you manipulated one of our ranks. Any more lies, and it's good night."
Never mind–his plan wasn't working, if anything, he made it worse. Or so I thought.
"Ah, it seems I've been found out," Elias said, sighing dramatically. "You're right–I've been teaching this idiot boy our ways, purely for entertainment, I assure you. So you want the name of who's been aiding us? Books, extra rations, even Vis theory explanations? I'll tell you. But on one condition." The guards leaned in. "Swear on your king that Reed and I return to our devices after. Unharmed."
They were hesitant for a short time, but the craving for information made them cave. Finally, the interrogator nodded. "I swear on King Braunus–you'll return upon revealing the bad seed."
Boom. Elias had done it. But would Elias so readily rat out Aeloria? We had built a strong bond but… survival.
"It was…" They leaned closer, eager to hear the name. Elias pointed at one of the guards behind the interrogator. "Simon Klien. Second son of the noble Klien household." Who the hell was Simon? Elias continued. "It wasn't easy bending him to our whims, but with promises of old secrets of the kingdom I hold from my prior status, Simon had foreseen grandeur for his household… a noble reason for his treachery. Books, rations, even light Vis explanations he discussed with Reed and I."
Gasps filled the room. "What? He's lying!" Simon shouted as the guards raised their weapons in his direction. The interrogator began, "It is hard to believe, Simon. But you were assigned to their camp most frequently… Tch–I expected more from you as a second son." Simon was seized by the guards. "I swear on King Braunus, this buffoon is spinning tales!" Simon retorted, eyes crazed as they hauled him away.
"Elias Moreau," the interrogator said, turning to us. "You and the boy will return for now–we want to avoid any trouble prior to tomorrow's inspection–I'm sure you understand the importance. Afterwards, you two will be brought back for proper questioning, that is," he smirked, "if you two are still here afterward." We made eye contact. "Take them back!"
He'd done it! Elias, you genius. Of course we wouldn't rat Aeloria–she was our ticket out of here. He sighed in relief as we returned to our cell. "We have no more time. We must act now." His voice showed a quiet panic. "I'm sure Aeloria is facing some form of questioning as she is the knight placed under the watch of this camp."
"She'll be fine, like us," I said. "Great work out there–I was ready to fight."
"Don't be foolish. Even with your unique abilities, your prowess is still novice level. We'd have been defeated," he snapped. I thought otherwise but whatever.
"You used the king's name quite familiarly, what's that about?" I asked. I thought it was intriguing.
"Later, Reed. Let's focus now–would you like to escape our impending doom or not?"
Wow, he was on edge. Maybe I was too cocky after the training but I didn't feel the same. Perks of being an anomaly, it made me invincible.
"Alright, what's the plan? Blast out now?"
"No," he retorted. "We wait for tomorrow. Reunite with Aeloria during the inspection–she's our best bet. For now, rest and trust her."
"Risky," I said. "What if she's ratting us to save her ass?"
Elias slammed the wall, his calm completely shattered at this point. "If she were, I assure you we would already be dead. Have some faith in the beast."
"Alright, whatever. Sleep it is." I swear if I woke to nobles probing me as a slave, he'd pay.
"Good. Rest. Tomorrow will be big," he said while lying into his straw bed–the tension lingering.
Aeloria:
I was brought to the knights' hall, surrounded by the four who rivaled my strength: the Dracovenian Knights. Specifically, the higher echelon–we were the strongest knights the kingdom had to offer. I was an outcast among this group, though I rivaled them in battle prowess–everyone else dedicated their whole being to the role. This was the dream of the kingdom's children? After all, who wouldn't want to be Dracovenia's strongest? I shuddered at the thought.
Our leader stood: Seigmund Martin, from the most powerful house after the king. The strongest warriors hailed from the Martin household and he was no exception–our top. The order went: 1. Seigmund Martin. 2. Anselm Werner. 3. Chiara Stern. 4. Aeloria. 5. Vailreo de Vega.
He began: "As you know, the Kingdom Inspection dawns. Reports show a bountiful group–high energy, high value. There are plenty to go around. Avoid public issues. Our families and officials will be present; make it fluent–we regulate."
Nods all around, then Chiara spoke. "I've heard of a boy learning Vis manipulation in confinement." She glanced at me. "Promising–the Stern household seeks new mages, especially ice affinity." She conjured a snowflake, twirling it. "I've heard you know something of this boy, Aeloria. Would that happen to be true?"
Eyes narrowed, tension sliced the air. Had we been outed? My composure held: helmet hiding my face. "Rumors, yes–but nothing so grand."
Chiara studied me, skeptical. "Well you're not noble anyway, no household to uphold." She laughed, defusing the tension.
Alright, this was just the usual case of nobility's greed. There was no exposure, because there was nothing to be exposed. But then Seigmund spoke: "That's right, Aeloria–you have been out late, beyond your duties. Seemingly scouting prisoners early, why?" He missed nothing.
"I've actually planned to acquire a slave myself, one with potential, to train as my right hand–covering any flaws on the battlefield," I explained calmly.
"Well that's a surprise," a voice from another direction exclaimed. Vailreo. "The cold-blooded lone beast seeks a partner. Amusing." His lineage allowed the jab, despite the differences in our strength.
Seigmund nodded. "Strengthening ranks is good. Luck to you, Aeloria."
The meeting continued following the usual nonsense, though tension was extreme this time around. Seigmund closed with a "Glory to King Braunus." Then we dispersed. Back in my room, I sighed with relief. I had feared for the worst–the timing had been very specific, but it was just politics. I needed to get to Reed and Elias but going now would be suspect. Tomorrow, during a lapse in duties. For now, I will rest.
Reed:
Dawn broke with shouts–chains clanking, guards barking orders like rabid dogs. The inspection had begun: prisoners were herded from camps in droves. "They are grouping us for display," Elias explained, his voice low as we shuffled out. "Separating strong from weak, human from non-human, young from old, male from female–to make the selection process easier for the nobles."
My mana hummed beneath my skin, ready for whatever came. Though I felt invincible after the week's training, the thought of being completely separated from my only allies in this hellhole wasn't sitting right with me.
"Will we be separated?" I asked, glancing at the growing crowds.
"No–after last night's farce, I'm sure they will keep us close, eyes sharp." Elias paced briefly before our door flung open, the guard nodding down the hall. "Stay low. Aeloria will find us," he whispered as we moved.
The yard was a sea of bodies: I'd seen plenty during labor shifts, but there were plenty more–at least 5,000–scattered in tense clusters. Indignation etched their faces, eyes burning with resentment toward the guards prodding them into lines. The air reeked of sweat, unwashed bodies, and fear.
When the groupings were as settled as they would get, the noble parties began pouring in through the main gates, their finery a stark contrast to the filth–silks and jewels glinting under the morning sun, faces alight with curiosity and twisted excitement.
They wasted no time, hastily moving through the lines like predators at a market. Glowing tools in hand–mana determiners, I assumed–were pressed to prisoners' chests or foreheads, sparking with ethereal light as they assessed potential. Bursts of color flared: blue for water affinities, red for fire, green for earth. Some winced in pain, others stood defiant, only to be dragged away if the nobles nodded approval. Whispers rippled through the crowds: "That one has high mana–gone for experiments." "This one has a rather agreeable face, let's take her." This was brutal, an auction masked as an "inspection."
"These happen on noble request," Elias murmured beside me, his eyes darting across the yard, taking in every detail–the guards' positions, the nobles' clusters. "A poll among households decides if it's worth the hassle. If it's now, there's a huge demand–for experiments, sex slaves, or worse. This powder keg could blow."
I nodded, scanning the chaos myself. The prisoners simmered now, a high energy group for sure–restless shifts, muttered curses, fists clenching at sides. Then I happened to spot something peculiar, or should I say–someone. An older prisoner, gaunt and sly, weaving throughout the yard. No one seemed to notice but he was whispering urgently to inmates, his lips moving in quick bursts. I realized this was the same guy who I assumed squealed on our training nights. Torren. He'd sold us out before, what was he plotting now?
As my eyes tracked him to the yard's center, it happened. He stopped, chanted low under his breath–words I couldn't catch, arm raised high–then slammed his fist into the ground. A deafening BOOM echoed, shaking the earth. Dark clouds of smoke and dust erupted from the impact point, billowing out like a storm. Screams pierced the air; guards shouted in confusion.
Chaos exploded in an instant. Prisoners surged forward, breaking lines, then began clashing with guards and nobles alike. "We won't be toys!" one roared, echoed by dozens, as fists went flying into the jaws of receivers. Improvised weapons swung around, Vis externalizations crackled wildly: a prisoner hurled a crude-looking fireball, but it was enough to scorch a guard's armor. Another summoned vines that tripped a noble and began ripping him apart limb by limb. The yard devolved into a battlefield–bodies colliding, blood splattering the dirt, and the billowing dark clouds turning everything into a hazy nightmare.
Elias grabbed my arm. "This is our window–move!"
"There!" he pointed through the haze. Aeloria slipped toward us, helmeted and armored, motioning urgently. We dashed amid the fray, dodging a flying body and a stray ice shard from some panicked noble's spell.
"Follow–there's a weak gate in this direction," she whispered, her voice strained but steady. "This way will lead us to the Carboniferre Forest. Dangerous, but our only escape, as the gate will be short on guards." Elias' face paled slightly at the mention of the forest but he didn't argue. The danger can't be worse than this, I thought, adrenaline surging. I'm all in.
We sneaked through the swirling chaos, hearts pounding, the riot's roar masking our steps. Guards were scattered, nobles fleeing or fighting back–freedom tantalized, just beyond a gate in the distance. But surely it couldn't be this easy. Seconds later, a shout cut through: "You three–halt!"
We froze. Guards closed in from a side path, a shorter woman in ornate knight armor, slightly resembling Aeloria's, leading the pack–beautiful, with piercing icy blue eyes and flowing white hair that shimmered like frost. Her gaze turned to Aeloria as she shouted, "What are you waiting for? Take those two prisoners down!" Aeloria took two steps ahead of us and drew her heavy sword, muttering, "Dammit–Chiara of all knights."
Chiara smirked. "What's this? Not surprising from a demi-human slave at all, fine, I'll take all three of you down!" she exclaimed, her voice sharp as a blade while conjuring ice shards that gleamed deadly in the smoky light.
There was no choice–we had to fight, but I wasn't expecting to get away that easily anyway. I pooled mana deep in my core, thinking of how to begin. It was time to show this world my dominance, no holding back–it was death or freedom now. Chiara seemed to be the biggest threat so I aimed in her direction, but Aeloria blocked and took up my view.
"I'll handle her," she said, her voice betraying a flicker of doubt beneath the resolve. "You two take the rest. We have to make this quick before anyone else realizes."
Got it–game time. Elias and I braced as the guards lunged forward: this was my first real fight in this world–hell–in any world, but I was ready. Anyone blocking my freedom? Dies. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and imagined a thin blade of grass. I mimicked that image into a streak of wind and conjured. With the full force I could muster–and with the silly name that instinctively left my lips at the same time, I shouted, "Wind Blade!" and released in the direction of the oncoming guard. At the same time, I flew backward, crashing into the dirt 10 feet back. Had I overdone it? I didn't control the amount of mana there, so the backlash from the wind must have thrown me back as well. I got up rubbing my head, then realized all of them had stopped and were staring at me. The guard who was charging at me with his sword drawn was now on the ground, but he was missing something, something vital. His head was sliced clean off, blood gushing.
So this is what it felt like to fight, huh. I think I can get used to this, I thought. And with that, our escape from confinement began.