Chapter 5 – Shackles and Shadows
Muffled growls of the ursas rumbled through the dead of night, deep and guttural, echoing between the frost-cloaked pines.
"Stop," Asher commanded, raising a gloved fist. The beasts slowed, breath steaming in heavy clouds.
They had reached a slave caravan, a grim procession of wagon full of cages, and broken souls. many People were huddled in corners, some were bound in chains, others were bound with iron collars glowing faintly with mana suppressing runes. some who were considered precious merchandise were loaded up in carts with cages
The air was thick with despair and the metallic scent of rust and blood.
By the central fire stood a young woman, who appeared to be in her mid-twenties, she stood with shackles around her neck and bruises down her arms. Her eyes flinched from every movement, every sound.
"W-welcome back, Master…" she stammered, voice trembling like a knife was pressed against her throat .
Asher dismounted his ursa with the confidence of a man who had forgotten what pity and empthy meant. "Claire," he said, wiping frost from his gauntlet. "Take this boy and put him next to that Arvel whelp."
Claire nodded quickly, eyes lowered. She didn't dare meet his gaze.
She approached Auron, who was still pretending to be unconscious, and roughly dragged him by his shackles. The iron clanged against the frozen ground as she led him to a heavy cage near the rear of the encampment. she put mana-restricting cuffs on his wrists, they glowed faintly with red sigils. Then She shoved him inside and locked the gate.
The boy inside the cage stirred. He had long, pale-blond hair and wore what remained of a noble's leather tunic. Though exhaustion clung to him like shadow, there was still a stubborn flicker in his blue eyes like a spark that refused to die.
He looked at Auron with quiet pity. "Another one," he murmured.
Auron, growing tired of the charade, sat upright and spat out the chewed jerky from his mouth. The blackened chunk hit the floor with a wet sound.
The boy blinked in disbelief. "You were awake?"
Auron smirked faintly. "Poison's not my favorite bedtime drink."
The boy hesitated, then straightened. "Lucian Arvel. Youngest son of Count Arvel of the Ashford Kingdom." He spoke with a pride that clung even through the dirt and fear.
even though he was a slave of right now he still had the pride of being from a noble house
"Auron Andler," Auron replied dryly. "No house. No kingdom."
Lucian frowned. "You… don't look like a commoner."
"And you don't look like a noble....," Auron said in a taunting manner, leaning back against the bars.
lucian a little embarrassed by the remark proceeded to sit in silence.
Outside, coarse laughter echoed through the night. The ursas snorted, their glowing eyes reflecting the firelight as men joked about prices and flesh.
"The Dire Wolves will pay a fortune for these two," one of the slavers sneered. "A noble brat and that black-eyed one , he's got a good bloodline in him. I can feel it."
Lucian's eyes widened. "Dire Wolves… savage beastmen. They'll kill us."
"No," Auron said calmly, eyes fixed on the slavers. "They'll sell us. Killing wastes profit."
He turned slightly toward Lucian, lowering his voice. "Listen. Panic will get you dead. Keep quiet. Watch everything. And when I move, you move. Understand?"
Lucian hesitated, then nodded once. "You speak like someone who has a plan."
Auron's gaze darkened. "I have."
Hours passed. The fires burned low, and the cold seeped into bone. The cage rattled as they were hauled back onto a wagon. Chains bit at their wrists. Through the bars, Auron watched Asher ride ahead, silver hair glinting, posture noble, a face emotionless.
That man carried himself like a knight. A fallen one and fallen knights were always the most dangerous kind. they had no codes or scriptures that bound them
When dawn bled through the horizon, Asher called for a halt. "Let the ursas rest. Set camp."
The caravan settled in a clearing ringed by black pines. Slavers unrolled tents, poured ale, and laughed as if the night wasn't filled with the cries of the chained.
Auron sat cross-legged in the corner of the cage, the lotus posture Godfrey had taught him. His eyes were half-closed, breath steady.He'd already decided — "these men were nothing. just small fry, they were not the killers he was looking for. The real enemy was elsewhere."
"Tell me," Auron said without looking up, "how are you connected to Asher?"
auron had noticed both of them shared a sur-name
Lucian froze. "He… used to be my guardian knight. My father trusted him. He was escorting me to the Royal Academy of Ashford. But…" his voice cracked, bitterness rising, "…he turned on us. He slaughtered the guards the men he called brothers. He is planning to sell me to his new masters."
"I thought, his new masters were nobles who fought with my father over land.... but they are beastmen" lucian continued
Auron opened his eyes slowly, the fire's reflection gleaming in them. "Then you understand. if you don't ask we are as good as dead."
Lucian clenched his fists. "Do you really have a plan?"
Auron smirked faintly. "Always."
lucian wanted to be free and he had decided to take any chance he could
He looked up. The night was cold, but inside, he burned like molten steel.
"Listen to me, noble boy," Auron said quietly. "When I say move, move. When I say run, don't look back. I'll open us a way."
Lucian frowned. "You can't break mana shackles—"
But Auron was already working, his breathing slowing, heart syncing with the faint hum of the bracelet on his wrist. A whisper of warmth spread through the iron cuffs.
The sigils flickered. Once. Twice. Then — crack.
The restraints snapped apart, the fragments falling like dead embers to the ground.
Lucian's eyes widened. "How—?"
"Don't ask."
Auron had found out while meditating that the bracelet was containing a large amount of mana, so he had just used that mana to overload the rune of mana restriction
Auron rose, silent as a theif, his eyes glinting with the quiet promise of a upcoming bloodbath .
Outside, Asher's men were still laughing around the fire.