《FAITH OF A SLAVE》
The Suffering of Slaves
[Arcels the Teenage Slave, Year 1515]
Southland, Home of Dogma
There is a slave living in a foreign land due to a war that left him helpless. Arcels is a slave from Westland who is now a slave in the Southland Country.
The physical differences between Arcels and the people of Southland make Arcels very easy to recognize as a slave from a foreign country. Arcels'' skin tends to be white with blonde hair. Meanwhile, Southlanders have dark skin and jet black hair.
Arcels was a slave of a master named Dogma. Dogma''s family was well-off enough to own several slaves. However, Dogma was famous for his cruelty towards slaves.
People knew that slaves who worked with Dogma would experience a lifetime of suffering. This is what Arcels, the slave of Dogma, feels every day like hell.
Morning
"Arcels! Where are you?" Dogma looked for Arcels around his house. Then, Arcels came up to Dogma and said, "What''s wrong, sir?"
"What took you so long to come? You slave bastard!"
Bak! Thwak!
The sound of the wood Dogma grabs to hit Arcels
Blood flowed from Arcels'' temples, dripping onto the dry ground.
His body staggered, pain radiating from the back that was struck repeatedly by the wood in Dogma''s hand.
Arcels could only squeeze the ground, holding back a scream that almost exploded.
Since the age of 15, his life has been bound in chains as a slave. Now, at the age of 19, the wounds on his body have become a common sight.
"I''m sorry, sir," he said breathlessly, forcing his body to rise even as his legs trembled.
"You dare to fight back, huh?!" just because of a small mistake, Dogma hit Arcels with wood all morning.
Nighttime in the Dogma Animal Cage
The animal stables were the slaves'' dark, stuffy, and foul-smelling sleeping quarters. In the corner of the room, Saint Deek Jamess, a 65-year-old former priest from Westland, looked at Arcels with concern on his face.
"You''re back, young man," Deek greeted softly.
"Old man... why aren''t you sleeping?" Arcels came in after being badly beaten by Dogma, so his body and face were covered in cuts and bruises.
"Don''t worry about me. You better sit down," Deek grabbed Arcels'' shoulder, helping him sit on the haystack. "If you''re battered like this every day, you''ll die one day."
Arcels laughed blandly. "Wouldn''t it be better to die than to continue being tortured like this?"
"ARCEL! No matter what happens, never give up on God!" Deek grasped Arcels shoulder tightly, his voice trembling. "We have to trust Him, no matter how bad things get!"
Arcels cried and wiped away his tears. He looked down, his blue eyes dim. "I''m sorry, Old Man... But it seems I no longer believe in God."
He got up slowly and laid his weak body in the corner of the room.
Deek was silent. His wrinkled hands were clenched on his knees.
That night, his prayers were quieter than usual.
[Past Saint Deek Jamess, Year 1500]
Gray Village, Westland
Saint Deek Jamess is a 175 cm tall slave obtained from Westland, after Southland won the war in the South Westland region.
At that time, a village was attacked by 1000 troops led by a Thousand Commander named Zaladin Abiyoye.
At that time, Deek was a 50-year-old pastor of the Gray Church. All residents who resisted were immediately killed and those who did not resist were captured for slavery.
As a priest, Deek did not want to commit violence, so he surrendered and willingly became a slave. Deek knew that he didn''t have the strength to fight a thousand troops, so he preferred to take care of the people who became slaves later.
Sadly, Gray''s Church was burned to the ground, making the church extinct from the face of the earth. Gray''s Church was the last church in the world, as most people, especially in Westland had already abandoned the teachings of the church.
This is because the King of Westland who is usually called King, namely King Ortnunder, stated that he did not believe in the existence of God after killing the previous king named King Knetchle.
Both of them are huge figures who are often nicknamed Ortnunder The Great and Knetchle The Answer.
"Everything will be fine," Deek told the other slaves on the way to the North Southland.
Deek was distributed to slave traders so that it could be resold to people in the North Southland.
Before being bought by Dogma, Deek had always befriended and cared for other slaves as his personal service mission.
However, everything Deek did seemed useless as the war continued and slaves kept coming to the North Southland. However, Deek never gave up caring and serving the slaves because of his faith in the God he believed in.
Basically, people bought male slaves for their strength or bought female slaves for their beauty. However, at that time Deek was just a 50-year-old old man who wasn''t even stronger than a young woman. Therefore, for many months, Deek was not sold as a slave.
On a sunny afternoon, slaves line up in shabby, smelly clothes to show off to buyers.
"I didn''t expect you to be able to drink so much alcohol," said one of the women walking with Dogma in his arms.
"Hahaha! That''s not even close... I''m still not even warmed up," said a drunken Dogma in front of the slave exhibit.
"Master, look at that! That poor man... he''s old, but he''s a slave. If only there was a man kind enough to help him," the women holding Dogma looked at Deek.
"Kind? Of course! Besides being rich and strong in alcohol, I''m also a kind-hearted man! Hey! Who sold this slave? I want to buy him now!" Dogma pointed at Deek.
A slave seller came and said, "Of course, sir. It only costs 1 piece of silver."
"One silver piece? What kind of slave is this cheap? Alright, I''ll buy it! Congratulations, old man! Starting today, you become Handsome Dogma''s slave! Hahaha!" Dogma laughed while staggering from drunkenness.
Deek could only look down, clutching the small wooden cross that still remained in his robe pocket.
"Thank you very much, Mr. Dogma," the slave seller replied with a bow.
"Mr. Dogma is great and kind! Kyaa... So gentle!" the women hugged Dogma with sparkling eyes.
[Saint Deek Jamess, 61 Years Old, Meeting Arcels]
Dogma House, 1511
"Deek! Come quickly!" Dogma''s voice echoed in the afternoon, breaking the silence of the estate. The look on his face was always tense, as if time had no mercy.
"I''m on my way, sir." Deek recited a short prayer silently before running with all his might to Dogma. An old habit that still lingered from the days when he wore the priest''s robes.
Dogma grinned faintly, dragging a young slave whose hands were bound. "You take care of him and teach him to work here. Make him work very hard!" Without much ado, Dogma turned and left.
The new slave was very young, probably around 15 years old, and seemed to have a lot of energy to work with.
"Introducing, my name is Arcels-"
"Introductions later, come with me."
Apparently the new slave was Arcels, who had just been bought by Dogma. Deek immediately taught Arcels to work, fearing that Dogma would scold Arcels if it looked like he couldn''t do anything. He taught Arcels to plant plants, clean up animal waste, and lift sacks that weighed almost more than the teenager''s body.
To Deek''s astonishment, Arcels did not complain at all. Whereas usually, newly purchased young slaves would vomit or try to escape on the first day. In fact, some even ended their own lives. However, Arcels only did what he was told without a word.
"Looking at your shabby and smelly clothes, I can''t believe you''re such a good person, old man," Arcels said suddenly, his voice sounding relieved.
Deek chuckled, the look in his eyes warming. "Thank you, young man... Let''s get to work!"
In between times, Deek shared about his faith in God and how he served others, including slaves.
He also shares his knowledge of history, politics, science, and more.
"On this continent, there are four major countries: Westland, Eastland, Northland, and Southland. Each has its own distinctive physical characteristics."
Deek paused for a moment, then continued his explanation.
"Westlanders, like us, have blonde or brown hair, blue eyes, and fair to tanned skin. This land is ruled by a Queen.
Southland, where we are now, is inhabited by people like our master, Dogma. They have black hair-sometimes straight, sometimes curly-with dark brown skin. Their leader is a Sultan.
Eastland, on the other hand, has people with slanted eyes, brown to tan skin, and straight black hair. They are ruled by a Kaisar.
As for the Northlanders... They are similar to the Westlanders, but their bodies are larger and hairy. They live in a cold land and are ruled by a King."
Arcels listened attentively, occasionally asking questions that made Deek pause.
"If we are all human, why are there still slavery and wars?"
Deek chuckled a little. "Your question is between easy and hard."
He took a breath, then explained, "Slavery occurs as a result of war. Those who lose lose territory, resources, and freedom. The captured population will be turned into slaves. Since each country has different physical features, slaves can be recognized easily.
In Southland, for example. People with blonde hair or slanted eyes are definitely slaves, because the majority of Southland natives have big eyes, dark skin and black hair."
"So, we''re slaves just because we''re blonde?" asked Arcels.
"Exactly! You''re smart!"
There was an intelligent glint in the young man''s eyes, different from most slaves he had met.
Arcels, who is only 15 years old, looks inquisitive, as if thirsty for knowledge.
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"But remember one important thing," Deek said suddenly, his voice more serious.
"Never drink demon blood. Many people are tempted by the power they can get from it. But if you drink it, you could die... or worse, turn into a mindless monster called a Trinker."
Arcels frowned. "Oh... So Trinkers are humans who are greedy for power, huh?"
He rubbed his chin, trying to digest the new information.
"I thought that Trinkers were some kind of animal-like creatures that had existed for a long time, not transformed humans..."
Arcels chuckled a little, feeling a little foolish for assuming that.
Deek just sighed. "Many think so. But they were once human... before the thirst for power destroyed them."
Arcels was silent. There was something in Deek''s words that made his hair stand up.
He envisioned humans turning into savage monsters because of powers they shouldn''t have.
"So, it''s not just war and slavery that make this world cruel... it''s also humanity''s own greed," he murmured softly.
Deek looked at Arcels for a long time before finally smiling slightly.
"No, it''s not. The world is not cruel... If all you see is slavery, wars, and human greed, it means you''ve never met a good person.
However... if you can''t find a good person, be a good person."
"Sorry, I don''t agree with that..."
PLAK!
Deek pinches Arcels'' head.
"Fool! That''s the most important thing!"
Arcels rubbed his head irritably.
"Look! You''re not a nice person yourself! You pinned me down!"
Deek laughed.
"Hahaha... Then, you should also forgive me in order to be a good person."
Arcels snorted.
"No, I didn''t. I said I didn''t agree... Hehehe."
They laughed together.
The wind blew softly, shaking the branches above them.
Arcels looked up at the vast sky. Underneath his naivety and mischievousness, there was something beginning to grow in his heart-a thought that perhaps, the world was not as bad as he thought.
Throughout his life, Arcels only knew slaves who were resigned and uneducated.
Deek, however, was different. He was once a priest-a learned man who had lost everything.
Animal Cages, the Place of Slaves
After work, they rest in the animal stalls. The smell of hay and feces mixes together.
Deek sat up, looking at Arcels with a questioning look. "So, what made you able to become a slave, young man?"
Arcels smiled blandly, there was bitter behind it. "Aren''t all stories the same? There''s a war going on. The losers become slaves, and the winners rule."
Deek sighed and replied, "I see... Take it easy. As long as you work well, you won''t be killed here. That''s the least I can say to ease your heart..." Deek tried to smile, even though he knew his words were so fragile
"Thank you, old man."
[Back to the Present, Year 1515]
The next day, Deek woke up and saw that Arcels was no longer in his straw bed. He went out and saw Arcels already working as usual, as if nothing had happened yesterday. In fact, the wound was still not dry, but he still lifted the hoe to dig the soil in the garden.
Deek walked over to Arcels and hoeing beside him. "Are you okay?"
"I''m fine," Arcels replied without stopping swinging the hoe.
Deek remained silent and continued hoeing.
"There''s something I haven''t told you yet, Old Man," Arcels said suddenly.
"Something ap-"
"Keep hoeing!" cut in Arcels quickly, afraid of being suspected by the slave overseer.
"First, let me ask you a question. Why in all these 15 years, have you never tried to escape from Dogma?"
"Are you crazy? Don''t tell me you want ka-"
"I said keep hoeing!" whispered Arcels sharply.
"I don''t know what you''re thinking Arcels, but no one is getting out of here alive. I guarantee it."
"Just answer my question."
"Come on, Arcels... what do you think is left of a 65-year-old old man like me? I''ve got no one back in Westland either. There''s no place I can call home anymore."
"I see. So you are a loner. No wonder you like to make friends with other slaves so you won''t be lonely."
"Watch your mouth, young man. I''m just... that''s all. I''m not lonely anyway!" Deek looked embarrassed and stammered.
"Listen to me. We can both escape. You can stay with my family in Westland."
"WHAT? YOU STILL HAVE A FAMILY?" Deek was very surprised, because Arcels should have tried to escape long ago if still had a family. However, all this time Arcels had never tried to escape even once.
"Quiet!" Arcels tried to calm Deek down.
"How have you been calm all this time? Why are you running away now? Why not a long time ago?"
"I''ve been looking for my family for four years. At first, I thought they were all gone. However, the new slaves told me that there used to be a slave who was always rebellious and wouldn''t submit to anyone. His body was muscular and he was young."
"So what? What''s the connection?"
"That must be my brother! He''s called Follows-"
"Tell you what. How do you know that the obscure person is your brother? Don''t get your hopes up."
"I''m sure it''s my brother. My brother will not obey anyone''s orders even if he becomes a slave. My brother only listens to the orders of one person in this world. That is me."
"Alright I believe it. Then, how did you get separated from your obedient brother?"
"We used to be soldiers. Our army lost, so rather than die in vain, we surrendered. Then we were sold separately as slaves."
"How did it get separated?"
"My brother is more handsome and stronger than me. So he was sold to an elite slave trader, while I went to a cheap one..."
Deek tried to hold back his laughter, but failed. "HAHAHA! And you said I was the lonely one? Sorry, that''s so funny!"
Ctar!
The whip flew at Deek for laughing too loudly. "Hehehe... sorry, Mr. Supervisor." Deek lowered his head and continued working.
Arcels snorted in annoyance. "The point is, since I still have my brother, I''ll try to escape here. How about it, do you want to come?"
Deek paused, glancing at the inspectors on guard. "Are you sure? Look at the number of watchers here. They all have swords, you know..."
"I''m not good at fighting. But what saved me in the war was... I can run really fast. Hehehe..."
Deek sighed. "What about this old man? You can''t possibly carry me, right?"
"You will ride a horse. Tonight, all the horses are put in the stable. We kill all the horses, except one for you. Then we run away to the forest with our provisions."
Deek paused for a moment, then smiled slightly. "Okay. I''m in, Arcels!" He tapped Arcels on the shoulder in agreement.
[A Day Later, the Executioner Escaped]
In the morning, Arcels lifted his body from the haystack. His blonde hair was a mess, his blue eyes reflecting a cold determination. He walked out of the animal enclosure, with Deek walking behind him.
Arcels and Deek looked for a water tap and washed their faces. The cold water jolted them awake. The two looked at each other and nodded slowly.
Today or never... Arcels thought, clenching his hands into fists.
They worked in separate places-Deek in the stables, Arcels fixing the fence. Occasionally, Arcels glanced at the overseers. There were at least 3 of them, each carrying a sword.
If we get caught, we''re dead. Arcels swallowed, but his hands continued to work.
While fixing the broken fences, Arcels slightly damaged the hinges of the gate, by prying them off so that they would be fragile when hit by the horse later. The 1-meter high fence, made of sturdy wood, was also slightly damaged by Arcels.
Arcels also buried a bag containing provisions for their escape later in the ground about 4 meters away from the fence gate.
Meanwhile, Deek takes care of the animal feed, namely cows, pigs and horses.
Deek walked over to put animal feed for the cows. A pile of straw is placed in front of the cows'' mouths so that they eat with gusto. Similarly, for the pigs, a kind of porridge mixed with sweet potatoes and vegetables is given to the pigs.
Inside the stables, Deek counted slowly. "One, two, three, four, five, six..." Dogma had a total of six horses.
Deek looked at each horse carefully to see which one had the fastest speed.
His gaze fell on a burly black horse with hard hooves, long legs, and shiny fur.
Deek marked the horse to be used to escape later that night. He also prepares the rope and machete he used to work with, to use later that night to kill the horse.
Afternoon
The sun was beginning to set. All the slaves, including Deek and Arcels, returned to the animal pens. As they walked, their gazes met again-a brief nod was the cue.
As night fell and the slaves fell asleep, Dogma and his family were wrapped in dreams. Deek and Arcels only pretended to sleep, waiting for midnight to strike.
When the time came, they opened the stable door slowly, stepping into the stables. In the darkness of the night, they saw three guards patrolling-2 at the main gate, one walking around the area.
They quietly made their way to the stables. When they entered the stables, the horses were quiet because they already knew Deek and Arcels as their caretakers.
Arcels took a rope and quickly tied the mouths of the 5 horses. Meanwhile, Deek slit the throats of the horses one by one, without making a scene. The horses that had been marked earlier were released slowly.
However, when they were about to exit the stables, dozens of slaves had gathered in front of them
"If you want to run away, we want to run away too," exclaimed a slave girl of about 18 years old.
"Yes, we''d rather die trying to escape than live our whole lives here," this time it was one of the male slaves who spoke up.
"That''s right! That''s right!" Voices of support rang out.
"How is it, Arcels?" asked Deek, who was now on the horse.
Arcels was stunned. "Damn, we''re screwed." If I refuse to let them come, they''ll report us...
Suddenly, a slave girl of about 17 years old fell to her knees, crying as she kissed Arcels'' feet.
"I beg you, please include us... I can''t bear to suffer here. Every day I''m raped by men I don''t know. I still have a family and a future in Northland..."
Arcels was silent for a moment. He clenched his fists, holding back his anger. Arcels took a deep breath, then lifted the girl to her feet. "All right. You don''t have to hold my feet. Everyone, I have an idea! You all escape to the main gate! Deek and I will distract the guards."
Deek smiled at Arcels proudly and Arcels nodded while looking at Deek''s face with a smile.
The slaves thanked him with sparkling eyes, then hurried to hide about 6 meters away from the main gate.
Arcels ran breathlessly up to the two guards and said, "Mr. Guard! Lord Dogma''s horse, killed!"
"What? Killed by whom?" asked one of the bald-headed guards with a thick mustache.
"Killed by a slave named Deek! He was trying to escape on the last surviving horse!"
"WHAT?! S-SLAVE?" Without thinking, the two guards ran out of the gate, their athletic bodies scouring the darkness for Deek.
Meanwhile, dozens of slaves who were previously hiding in the dark, soon came out through the gate that Arcels had damaged.
"Now your fate depends on yourself. Goodbye!" Arcels whispered softly, his eyes following their retreating backs.
"Thank you very much!" The slaves ran as fast as they could and disappeared from Arcels'' sight.
Just then, the bell of Dogma''s courtyard rang loudly. A fat figure standing 190 cm tall appeared, wearing a thin nightgown. Dogma carried a piece of wood, his eyes red with anger.
"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST DO?!" Wood slammed into Arcels so many times that his vision blurred and blood flowed from his temples. Arcels tried to regain consciousness and get up as Dogma continued to beat him.
Dogma swung the wood, but this time Arcels dodged, got up, and ran. From afar, we could see Deek being chased by 3 burly guards with a speed almost equal to that of a horse.
"Hurry up and I''ll catch up!" shouted Deek as he rode his horse towards the fence gate followed by the three guards behind.
Arcel ran with all his might towards the fence gate and made it out of the Dogma grounds.
However, as he was about to pass through the fence gate, Deek dropped the horse he was riding.
Crack... Brak!
The sound of the horse''s body falling shattered the wooden fence. With the fence, the shattered wood, the horse''s body, and his body, Deek blocked Dogma and the other three guards from passing through.
"ARCELS, RUN!!!" Deek shouted at the top of his lungs.
Arcels just ran straight ahead without looking back. Tears mixed with sweat ran down his face.
Srak!
The sound of tearing human flesh could be heard behind Arcels, but Arcels kept running as fast as a horse and did not look back.
In the midst of his hurried steps, fragments of memories appeared out of nowhere-
Four Years
Four years passed, since the iron chains first bound Arcels'' wrists.
"Hang in there, Arcels. It''s not the end," Deek''s voice sounded gentle, even as blood flowed from the whip wounds on his back.
Days passed with a weak body and an empty stomach. Deek always shared half his bread with Arcels, even when he could barely stand.
Cold nights in the animal enclosure. Deek held Arcels close, as if to make sure the boy lived.
Back to the Present
Arcels bit his lip, trying to push the memory away.
"GET OUT OF THE WAY YOU OLD MAN!!!" Dogma punched Deek''s body, but he didn''t move an inch.
Desperation came over Dogma''s heart, making him shout, "CUT OFF THIS SLAVE''S HEAD!!!"
"Yes, sir." Without hesitation, one of the guards took a swing at Deek''s head.
"GOD HAS SAVED YOU!!! NOT ME! REMEMBER THAT! ARCEL-"
Slash!
Deek''s head flew up, his blood spraying wildly, soaking the surroundings. However, his body still stood tall, as if refusing to submit to death.
What a liar... Arcels gritted his teeth.
If not for you, I would have died a long time ago...
Saint Deek Jamess'' last words echoed in Arcels'' ears, hitting his heart harder than anything else, burning his steps further than anything else.
His tears spilled silently, his feet kept moving, away from the hell behind his.
Thank you... Father.
The Brother
[A Few Days After Escaping Dogma]
Forbidden Forest, Daytime
Arcels was shabby, dirty, and smelly. His thin body showed his bones, as he hadn''t eaten in two days. He had only one wish: to go to the city, meet his brother, and return home together to Westland.
Arcels walked in the wilderness not knowing the dangers around him.
Rawr!
The tiger''s roar could be heard in the distance, sending panicked birds into the air. Arcels immediately ran away, before the tiger realized his presence.
However, a more terrifying danger than just a tiger was lurking-a 2-meter-tall figure lurking in the darkness of the forest.
"Ha-almost got eaten by a tiger..." Arcels panted, pausing for a moment after escaping the Tiger''s reach.
But, unbeknownst to him, a black figure with red eyes and a large human-shaped body was standing right behind him.
Drip... drip... drip...
The creature''s saliva dripped, creating a small puddle on the dry ground. Its mouth was large with rows of sharp teeth, enough to swallow Arcels'' head whole.
Arcels turned his head slowly. Cold sweat ran down his temples, his hands trembling under his breath.
That thing was a Trinker-a mindless demon that thirsted for human blood.
Arcels already understood how to deal with Trinkers because it was common knowledge in his world.
If they don''t move and don''t make a sound, they won''t attack... Right? Arcels tried to remember his theory and tried to convince himself.
However, that''s just theory, there are many Trinkers who are not normal and have varied skills.
Unfortunately, the abnormal Trinker was currently behind Arcels.
Kraahk!
Trinker opened his mouth wide, as if to crush Arcels'' head.
"SHIT!!!"
Arcels immediately ran with all his might, his breathing ragged. The Trinker chased behind, his heavy steps hitting the ground, making a small vibration that was felt all the way to the soles of Arcels'' feet.
Although Arcels was a slave who was not supposed to go to the city in Southland, Arcels was forced to run towards the city.
Alkhamsa City, Suburbs
While almost being bitten by the Trinker, Arcels managed to get out of the forest. His eyes caught the towering stone walls of Alkhamsa City.
"HELP!!! THERE''S A TRINKER!!!" Arcels shouted at the top of his lungs.
"HAH?!?!?!"
The residents turned their heads in unison. Their eyes widened at the sight of Arcels'' blonde hair, fair skin, and blue eyes-a clear sign of a slave from Westland.
"HUH?!?!?!?!?!?!"
They were more shocked when they saw a 2-meter-tall naked black figure chasing Arcels with drool dripping.
Now the Trinker is no longer just chasing Arcels, but also the people around him. This made it easy for Arcels to infiltrate the city.
Arghh!
Trinker roared, his burly hands grabbing a girl standing too close and intending to eat her whole.
"MAMA!!! HELP ME!!!" The little girl around 8 years old screamed, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"NO!!!" screamed the little girl''s mother, helpless to do anything.
Trinker lifted the girl high, opening his mouth full of sharp teeth, ready to devour her whole.
"Aaaaaa-"
Srekkk!
The sword swung quickly, passing through the Trinker''s head. Blood spurted everywhere and the Trinker''s head fell to the ground.
Drops... drops...
Fresh blood dripped slowly from the severed neck. Trinker''s body collapsed with a heavy thud, leaving a pool of blackened blood on the ground.
The little girl fell to the ground, sobbing.
"Mom!" she screamed, and ran unsteadily toward a woman standing nearby.
In the tree-shadowed sunlight, a man with a sword stood tall.
He wore gleaming black armor with a black turban symbolizing Southland''s power. The black cloak hanging down his back billowed softly, as if submitting to his majestic and undeniable aura.
He is General Zaladin Abiyoye-a war general who now commands tens of thousands of troops, after years of being only a Commander of a Thousand.
In the world, general is the highest rank of military leader-a title that can only be held by those who can destroy cities with their bare hands, fight thousands of troops without flinching, and stand tall even when their bodies are pierced by thousands of swords.
"Thank you, Mr. Zaladin. You have saved my daughter." The mother bowed deeply, her voice trembling with gratitude. Her thin hands clasped her sobbing daughter tightly, her face lowered to the ground.
"Raise your head and return home safely," Zaladin replied softly, his voice deep yet calm. His piercing eyes gazed at the mother of the little girl without the slightest hint of fatigue, as if the thousands of battles he had been through were nothing.
"Adam!"
Zaladin''s voice was heard firmly calling out his right hand. A well-built man in silver armor immediately came forward and bowed respectfully.
"Yes, Sir!" replied Adam firmly, his voice loudly echoing through the trees. His right hand clenched around his chest in a sign of respect.
"Send more troops to patrol the Forbidden Forest more often!"
"Yes, Master!" Adam bowed deeply before turning around with quick steps, giving orders to the soldiers.
Zaladin looked at the reddening sky with a resentful face.
At this rate, I''ll be lectured by the Sultan of Southland... How inconvenient...
[Arcels Seeks His Brother: Alkhamsa City]
Alkhamsa City, Slave Market
On the other hand, the Arcels had infiltrated the city. Stone walls and rows of dense houses crammed the narrow streets. The smell of sweat, blood, and iron wafted from the crowded Slave Market.
Arcels hid his face behind a tattered cloak that covered his entire body. Worn-out shoes protected his nearly scuffed feet, while prosthetic glasses and a worn-out cloth covered his trademark blonde hair and blue eyes.
"I have to find him... My brother..."
Arcels'' hands were clenched into tight fists, his breath held behind the mask.
"Excuse me, are you selling an 18-year-old male slave with a height of 190 cm? If possible he''s from Westland," Arcels asked one of the merchants, his voice trembling with hunger.
"Wow... how specific is your request..." The merchant grinned, showing disgusting yellow teeth. "You better take a look at the slaves I have. It''s much higher quality. It only costs 1 gold piece..."
Arcels gritted his teeth. Without answering, he turned quickly and left. His heart was beating fast, between despair and anger.
He approached one merchant after another, asking the same question with increasingly slim hopes.
However, night falls. The sky turned dark, and the lanterns in the market were lit. Arcels stood panting in the crowd that seemed to suffocate him.
"Nothing... Absolutely nothing..." he muttered, his voice almost drowned out amidst the noisy shouts of the merchants. His gaze swiveled, his breathing halting for a moment.
"Brother... where are you...?"
A Deserted Place, the Slave Market
"WHAT KIND OF SLAVE ARE YOU GIVING ME, HAH?!" shouted a man with a bloodshot face, his voice echoing among the rows of dirty tents.
"I''m sorry, Master... I''ll get you another slave to take his place," the slave trader replied, his voice trembling.
"No need! Just give me back my money!"
"All right, Sir. Here''s your money," the merchant hurriedly returned the bag of coins, his face full of fake smiles.
The buyer grunted in annoyance and left, leaving behind a slave boy who was pushed to the dusty ground.
Arcels watched from a distance, his eyes narrowed.
Is that you Follows? He thought, his breath held for a moment.
"Again you are returned... You insubordinate slave!" growled the slave trader, his foot kicking the weakly lying slave in the stomach.
"What''s wrong with a little initiative?! Don''t wait to be told to work first! Being told is hard too! You weird slave!"
Arcels clenched his fists, his jaw hardening.
Without hesitation, he stepped quickly over and said, "Excuse me, may I see the slave?"
"Hmmm? There''s another person who''s going to be tricked into buying you huh... hehehe..." The merchant grinned widely, revealing his disgusting yellow teeth.
Arcels approached them, his eyes sharp under the cover of cloth. "May I have a closer look at this slave?" he asked coldly.
"Of course, Sir. It only costs 1 gold piece. His body is stocky, tall, and strong. This slave from Westland is only 18 years old. You will like him, Sir," the merchant licked his lips, his voice sounding like a whispering snake.
Arcels looked down, staring at the slave''s face.
It''s true, you are Follows, my brother.
However, Follows had not yet realized who the man with the cloth cover was in front of him.
Arcels brought his face closer and whispered softly, "It''s me, Arcels."
Follows'' eyes widened instantly. Although weak and dusty, Arcels'' blue eyes were impossible to forget.
"Is that really you, Brother?" Follows whispered, his voice trembling between emotion and confusion.
"Of course it''s me. You still haven''t changed. Follows The Obedient," Arcels replied softly with his soft voice.
"What should I do, Bro?" asked Follows waiting for orders from Arcels.
"Calm down and follow my instructions."
The slave trader who saw them whispering immediately rebuked them.
"Hey! So buy it or not, Sir?"
Arcels turned around, a faint smile etched on his face.
"Stand up!"
"Stand up? What do you mean, Sir? I''m already standing," the merchant frowned in confusion.
Apparently it was an order for Follows.
The iron cuffs in Follows'' hands rattled softly. With slow but steady movements, he stood upright. His nearly 2-meter-tall body completely overshadowed the merchant.
"Heh? He can be so obedient, huh? So, does that mean you''ll buy him, Sir?" The merchant smiled broadly, but his voice trembled. Sweat began to run down his temples.
Arcels looked at him sharply.
"Kill him silently!" ordered Arcels to Follows.
The merchant was shocked and frightened, but helpless. "HUH?! WHAT-"
"Okay, bro," Follows replied without hesitation.
Crunch!
With both hands, Follows twisted the merchant''s head until there was a horrible sound of bones breaking. The man''s head turned 180 degrees with his eyes still bulging in disbelief.
The corpse collapsed silently, wide-eyed and silent.
Arcels'' eyes widened slightly at how quickly and coldly Follows took someone''s life.
However, he doesn''t have time to think about that right now.
Follows turned his head, looking at his brother.
"Are you okay?"
Arcels was stunned for a moment, recalling his entire bitter experience as a slave.
He held something tight in his chest, trying not to share the pain of the past with his brother.
During his 4 years as a slave, Arcels hoped that Follows would not go through the same experience as him.
Then, with a trembling voice, he said, "I-yeah, I''m fine... We haven''t seen each other for four years...
At least give your brother a hug..."
Arcels looked away, afraid of his tears showing.
Follows blinked, then smiled faintly.
He stepped forward and hugged Arcels tightly.
"I''m grateful that you''re still alive...
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
Forgive me for failing to do my duty to protect you, brother."
Arcels hardened his jaw.
"Stupid..." his voice was hoarse.
"A big brother should protect his little brother."
The two of them hugged each other tightly, crying in the silence of the night.
But... there''s no time to get lost in emotions.
Arcels took a deep breath, then said firmly, "Already... Take care of this corpse first."
Follows nodded.
The merchant''s clothes were soon stripped off. Follows wore it to cover his blue eyes, fair skin, and blonde hair - features that could be suspected of being a slave from the Westland Country.
Not wanting to waste any time, Follows immediately dug the ground with his bare hands. In just five minutes, a waist-deep hole was ready. The body was buried quickly, and the ground was filled in again until there was nothing suspicious.
"Let''s go from here, to the Exit Gate, towards Westland!"
[Nighttime: The Search for Slaves]
North Exit Gate Post, North Southland
The dark night was kept luminous by the torches that lined the 10-meter-high, 5-meter-thick wall-the outer defenses of Southland to the north.
A cold wind blew in, bringing with it the still faint smell of sand and blood.
"Greetings... I am Dogma, wishing to report the loss of a slave. Who is in charge of this post?"
"Commander Hundred. Come in, meet him, meet him" replied a soldier standing tall in front of the post, a long spear held tightly in his hand. Iron armor gleamed in the torchlight, while silver helmets with closed visors made the soldiers'' faces invisible.
Dogma and his three men entered into a small, dimly lit base, a sort of checkpoint with a wooden table and a few rough chairs.
Commander Hundred sat behind the desk, full silver armor still on, from head to toe.
A combat helmet made of silver-ornamented steel covered his face, with only sharp eyes watching.
A soft clang sounded as he removed his helmet, revealing his curly hair and piercing gaze.
Dogma pulled out a chair and sat down slowly, a faint smile gracing his face. "So, I lost my slaves. They ran away simultaneously. Ten in total," he said calmly.
Next, Dogma recounts the events of the slaves'' escape, Deek''s death, and Arcels'' plan-complete with the physical characteristics and identities of the slaves.
Hearing Dogma''s report, Commander Hundred frowned, his eyebrows raised.
"Why are you reporting this now?" he asked directly, his voice low but firm.
"We were injured that time and had to repair all the damage."
Commander Hundred nodded slowly. "Alright, we''ll look for them right away-"
"Greetings..." A deep, heavy voice cut through the conversation. General Zaladin stepped in silently, gleaming black armor and a turban wrapped around his body.
His steps were calm, but every movement carried an air of authority.
"Greetings, General!" replied everyone in the room in unison, some soldiers immediately bowed their heads.
Instantly the atmosphere became tense.
General Zaladin stopped right in the center of the room, a faint smile on his face that did not diminish his cold aura.
"Just continue your conversation. I''m just here to drop by..." he said softly.
Dogma gulped, cold sweat running down his temples though his smile was still in place.
"D-Done, Sir. We''ve finished talking... I''ll be excused then," Commander Hundred said quickly, his voice trembling. He put his combat helmet back on, covering his slightly tense expression, and his steps were heavy on his way out.
Dogma and his three men stood up, bowing slightly.
"You''ll have to excuse us, Sir," Dogma said, his voice as smooth as possible.
However, Dogma''s eyes glanced at Zaladin warily, as if afraid that even a small movement could cause his neck to be cut.
Nighttime, Alkhamsa City Streets
The night was getting thicker, but the torches carried by the soldiers glowed brightly, creating long shadows along the cobblestone road.
Heavy footsteps sounded in the night air, while lanterns swung in the hands of the Southland troops who spread out in all directions.
They''re not just looking-they''re hunting.
The cold wind mixed with the stench of blood and dust that flew from the footsteps of the fast-moving soldiers.
Every corner of the city was checked, every alley was combed.
The remaining nine slaves had nowhere to run.
Their physical features are different from the Southland natives.
Even in the dark of night, the differences cannot be hidden.
The slaves could not hide.
In a city full of betrayal and slavery, no one will help them.
Their choices only ended up in three places:
The Forbidden Forest, a place more terrifying than death.
Slave Market, where they will be resold like merchandise.
Falling asleep on the streets, only to wake up in iron chains the next morning.
Because of this, no slave ever managed to escape. Those who tried would definitely be caught.
"Capture them alive! Let no one escape!" shouted Commander Hundred, his voice hoarse and booming.
The clink of drawn swords, the clatter of soldiers'' feet and cries of pain are the backdrop to this brutal chase.
It only took a few hours for the Southland and Dogma forces, 9 out of 10 slaves were captured.
"Let me go!" cried a female slave.
Her small hands clawed at the ground, trying to crawl away, but her hair was roughly grabbed as she was dragged away by Dogma.
"HAHAHA!!! You guys have nowhere to go!" shouted Dogma, his evil grin spread wide
From a dark hidden alleyway, Arcels and Follows watched the events from afar.
"How is it, Bro?" whispered Follows, his eyes keeping a vigilant eye on the surroundings.
Arcels gritted his teeth, his breathing heavy with emotion.
"Follows, I have to confirm this... How many people can you fight?"
Follows grinned faintly.
"As many as you ordered."
His tone was calm, without a hint of hesitation.
Arcels snorted, then poked his brother''s head.
"Don''t be arrogant!"
However, before Follows could reply, a sharp sound pierced the night air.
"I... FIND... YOU!!!"
The coldness in that voice made Arcels'' hair stand on end.
From behind them, a Hundredth Commander in iron armor appeared with a combat helmet and a sharp sword ready to slash.
Swing!
The torchlight reflected off the blade of his sword, swinging quickly in a horizontal slash towards Arcels'' neck!
"Stop him, Follows!" exclaimed Arcels looking at Follows.
Follows bolted.
His hands lifted the cuffs that held him right in the path of the sword.
Cling!
Braakk!
The sharp blade made the handcuffs on Follows'' hands slip free.
"Damn!" exclaimed Commander Hundred, realizing his mistake.
Grab!
Before Commander Hundred could react, Follows gripped both his hands with incredible strength.
Follows'' grip was too strong, and the enemy''s sword slipped out, falling to the ground with a metallic clang.
Buk! Bak! Buk!
The Hundredth Commander''s brutal kicks slammed into Follows'' stomach time and time again, but Follows'' grip would not let go.
Bwaak!
With one powerful counter-kick, Follows slammed into the enemy''s stomach, knocking him to his knees.
"DON''T UNDERESTIMATE THE WARRIOR!!!"
Commander Hundred''s roar was full of rage, his breathing ragged. With all his might, he tried to free his hand that Follows was holding.
Grek! Tak!
Follows'' strong grip was released, but because it was so strong, both of Commander Hundred''s hands were broken and immobilized.
"Arghhh!!!"
Commander Hundred cried out in pain, his face turning pale.
Even though his hand was broken, he didn''t give up.
With his legs still covered in armor, he kicked Follows'' waist repeatedly.
Bak! Bak! Bwakk!
Grab!
On the last kick, Follows caught his foot.
Crack!
His leg bone broke instantly.
"AHHHHHHHH!!!"
This time his screams were so loud that the soldiers'' steps could be heard in the distance.
Arcels turned his head quickly.
"Follows, we have to go-"
Crunch!
One quick stomp.
Commander Hundred''s neck was forcibly twisted to the left.
His eyes widened blankly. His breathing stopped. His body fell heavily to the ground.
Then, Follows moved quickly.
With practiced hands, he removed the armor, combat helmet, and sword of the Hundredth Commander and put them on himself.
His body was thrown behind the rubble, hidden from view.
The soldiers came, their torches swinging, highlighting the shadow of Follows who now stood proudly in silver armor.
They immediately saluted as they saw that Follows as Commander of the Hundred had managed to obtain the missing slave, Arcels.
"We heard screaming, Sir!" one of the soldiers exclaimed.
Arcels, who was surprised, reacted immediately.
"AAHHH!!!" he shouted, pretending to be in pain so as not to get caught.
"That''s his voice," Follows replied firmly.
"Yes, master! That way all the slaves have been obtained! What are the next orders?" asked one of the soldiers.
"Let''s go to the North Gate!" ordered Follows.
"Ready!" exclaimed the soldier with a perfectly erect stance.
North Exit Gate Post, North Southland
Under the fading night sky, the torches still burned brightly, illuminating the warrior base where Dogma and his slaves were gathered.
There, the captured slaves knelt weakly, their faces dull, full of wounds, and their eyes hopelessly empty.
Dogma stood in the center, his wide smile seemingly satisfied, his hands gripping the rough whip that was still covered in dried blood.
"Hahaha! Indeed, Southland soldiers are very reliable... In one night, all my runaway slaves were able to return to me again."
"This is the last one..."
Follows arrived as Commander of the Hundred and handed Arcels over to Dogma.
"Thank you for your help to this country, soldier!" Dogma''s gaze was filled with pride, as if his slaves were merchandise that had just been rediscovered.
However, hearing Dogma''s words, something inside Arcels exploded, his patience shattered in an instant.
"DOGMAAA!!!"
Arcels shouted angrily, his eyes widened in hatred.
Without thinking, he lunged, his fist raised high ready to smash Dogma''s face!
Bak!
Arcels groaned in pain, looking at Follows with annoyance.
Damn! I forgot that he''s a stupid submissive brother...
Follows just stared at Arcels flatly, not showing the slightest guilty expression.
For him, he was just doing his part.
Dogma laughed at the incident.
"Good! That''s how Southland soldiers are!" he said with satisfaction.
He approached Arcels, grabbed his collar, and pulled him roughly.
"Thank you, Commander! I will take care of the rest and return home with my slaves and men,"
Just as Dogma was about to turn around, Follows spoke.
His baritone voice was sharp, full of assertiveness that made everyone instantly fall silent.
"Wait!"
Dogma stopped walking, turning his head with furrowed brows.
"Huh? What''s wrong?"
Follows stood tall, looking straight at him.
"We, the soldiers, will escort you home safely."
Dogma blinked a few times, surprised.
"That''s not necessary, Commander. I can take care of-"
Follows ignoring the words of Dogma.
"I need 10 people to come with me!" Follows ordered the soldiers.
The atmosphere instantly turned tense.
Follows'' tone didn''t sound like an offer. It was an order.
Dogma gulped, his expression slowly changing.
Follows'' eyes were piercing, not showing the slightest hesitation.
As if, if Dogma refuses, something bad will happen.
Some of the other soldiers began to glance at each other, waiting for Dogma''s reaction.
The Journey to the Dogma House, Through the Forest
The night air was damp. To the left and right were only the deep shadows of the forest.
The torchlight of the Dogma troupe flickered weakly, trying to fight against the darkness that seemed to want to swallow them whole.
In this group, there were 10 soldiers, 3 of Dogma''s subordinates, 9 slaves, Arcels, Follows, and Dogma.
The slaves walked in a long line, their hands cuffed and connected to each other with iron chains.
In front, Dogma and his three men walked leisurely, their swords sheathed, as if there was no real threat.
Behind, Follows rode a horse, while 10 soldiers flanked the slaves, standing guard at their sides.
They lined up neatly-too neatly.
However, Follows stared straight into the dark forest, his eyes flashing.
As the streets began to quieten down, Follows pulled the reins of his horse, halting his steps.
His movements were followed by everyone.
His gaze wandered into the darkness of the forest.
The leaves moved slowly, as if something was lurking within.
You must not get caught. When the streets are quiet, pretend there''s a Trinker in the forest and take the soldiers inside. Kill them one by one.
Arcels'' voice was still echoing in his head.
Follows raised his sword high.
His eyes widened, his face filled with false panic.
"THERE''S A TRINKER!!! SOLDIER, FOLLOW ME!!!"
Follows darted into the forest, followed by 10 soldiers who reflexively ran after him.
The forest was silent, as if holding its breath waiting for something to happen.
Srak!
Slash!
Craak!
The sound of flesh being torn apart, followed by the sound of blood splashing through the leaves.
In the dark forest, one by one, Southland soldiers fell without being able to fight back.
"AHHHHHHH!!!"
A brief scream broke out among the trees.
However, the sound stopped abruptly, like a candle extinguished by a gust of wind.
The light of the torches grew less and less, one by one falling to the ground, extinguished by a pool of blood.
From outside the forest, Dogma and his men could only hear horrible sounds.
The sound of slashes, the sound of broken bones, the sound of cries for help that were immediately cut off.
The first corpse came out first.
A soldier staggered to his feet, blood pouring from his nearly severed neck.
"HELP...!!!"
However, before it could reach Dogma, its body fell to the ground, its hands moving into the air one last time before it finally went lifeless.
Dogma trembles.
"Shit! How many Trinkers are there?"
However, no one answered, as death was still taking place in the forest.
Another soldier was thrown out, his body covered in wounds, his blood forming a puddle on the ground.
Then, only silence.
Dogma backed away slowly, cold sweat running down his temples.
"Fuck off! We''re going-"
Craaang!
Suddenly, the slaves moved.
Without warning, they ambushed Dogma and his men.
"FATHER-Hrk...!!!"
Dogma tried to scream, but dirty, scarred hands grabbed his neck.
Bugh!
Dogma was knocked to the ground, his body rolling on the cold sand.
The slaves pinned him down, strangled him, gagged him.
Dogma''s eyes widened, his body shook helplessly.
His breathing was getting shorter.
"Haa... haa..."
And finally, Dogma was unconscious.
From within the forest, a man slowly walked out.
His steps are relaxed, calm and authoritative.
His silver armor glistened in the torchlight.
But now, it was covered in blood.
Blood dripped from his iron gloves.
Blood also soaked the sword he carried.
Follows came out of the darkness, standing in the moonlight.
And not a single soldier came out with him.
He has killed them all.
Arcels came forward, looking at Follows for a moment before extending a hand.
Follows nodded, then took the key from one of the soldier''s corpses and began to unlock the slaves'' handcuffs.
Crunch!
Crunch!
Cling!
One by one, the handcuffs fell to the ground.
The slaves looked at their now free wrists.
However, once their hands were freed, something unexpected happened.
Without hesitation, the former slaves immediately attacked Dogma and his men.
Kicks, punches, scratches-all done with vengeance.
Dogma''s face was beaten to a pulp.
Dogma''s subordinates screamed in pain, but no one stopped the violence.
Arcels was silent, watching everything.
Dogma and his three men died on the spot.
Glimpses of the Past: Deek Saint James
Behind his blank stare, an old memory emerged.
The voice deep in his mind began to echo.
Deek Saint James-the old man, looked at him with eyes full of wisdom.
His face was calm, full of the wrinkles of life, yet his gaze was sharper than a sword.
"Remember, Arcels! Love your enemies even if they have done evil to you. There is no point in taking revenge, but rather do good to those who hurt you."
Arcels laughed sarcastically in his memory.
"What the hell was that? If I could, I''d kill all my enemies, especially Dogma!"
Deek raised his hand.
Plak!
A hard jab landed on Arcels'' head.
"Don''t take that name in vain, fool! It''s your hatred that you need to kill, not the person you hate! Follow what this old man says! It''s for your own good! There''s nothing you can gain from vengeance!"
Arcels rubbed his head, frowning.
"You''re not even my enemy, you''re hurting me! You cheater!"
Deek just laughed.
"Oh yeah... Sorry! HAHAHA..."
And finally, Arcels laughed along with him.
Back to the Present: Dogma No Longer Breathes
At that time, I didn''t understand what you meant...
Arcels snapped out of his reverie.
"Brother, are you okay?" Follows'' voice interrupted his thoughts.
Arcels raised his head, looking up at the sky.
"I''m fine."
However, as his gaze returned to Dogma, who was now lying in a pool of his own blood.
He understood something.
After Dogma died, I still hated him...
It''s true, Deek...
What I need to kill is my hatred...
Not the people I hate...