Somehow, Ezra wasn’t even slightly surprised. Sweat pooled at the back of his shirt.

“Afternoon, Idia.” Ezra pushed himself to his wobbly feet, then brushed himself down. After that, he turned his false smirk on Idia. “It’s nice to see you.”

Idia disappeared and reappeared. His foot slammed into Ezra’s stomach and sent him flying. Ezra rolled in the air for a few moments before crashing through the house wall and back into another alley.

50/210

Ezra let out a sickened cough, blood splattered over the stone, and he was beginning to feel that he’d made a serious miscalculation.

“Oh, you’re about to die,” Idia said. “No, no, I can’t allow that.”

Idia pointed at Ezra. A crimson light gleamed from the tip of his finger.

210/210

Ezra felt strength flood his veins. A mad idea entered into his mind, and he glared at Idia.

“[Restra—“

Idia picked up Ezra by the throat before Ezra could finish his sentence, and then he slammed Ezra against the wall, creating a loud thump. Ezra grunted and suppressed the urge to cry out.

“You know, I didn’t like you the first time I saw you,” Idia said, his tone conversational. “Really. I looked at your eyes, and I could instantly tell what you were like. Selfish, nasty, and a bit too smart for your good.”

Idia threw Ezra to the ground. Ezra’s survival instincts kicked in, and he leaped forward from the ground, his needle pointed at Idia’s neck. Idia slapped aside the attack and punched Ezra into the footpath. Ezra coughed, spittle and blood flying out of his mouth.

“You know how much of a pain it is to shape an Otherworlder when you’re feeding them all those nasty little truths?” Idia kicked Ezra in the stomach. “Let me tell you, once someone like you plants a seed of doubt, it’s a nightmare to deal with. Once I figured you out, I wanted you gone.”

Ezra could barely think, it was like he was in a mindless fog. In the back of his mind, he could feel his fear begin to mount. He threw out a kick toward Idia’s kneecap. The kick bounced off, doing no damage.

“But Synica refused,” Idia said. “She insisted on her own approach, said that killing you would decrease morale. How can you serve as our ‘cannon fodder’ with that strategy?”

Idia dragged Ezra back to a standing position and slapped him across the face. Pain shot up and down’s face and Ezra felt a tooth break off from the inside of his mouth.

“Unfortunately, she’s not here to protect you,” Idia said

Ezra spat in Idia’s face, his loose tooth flew forward and hit Idia’s cheek. Idia stopped. He slowly reached his free hand up and wiped the spit off his skin.

Ezra felt his stomach sink in his chest. Idia pulled out his sword from his sheath, letting Ezra slump to the ground. Ezra tried to crawl away using nothing but his chin and the little strength that remained in his body. He made it a few inches.

Then Idia stabbed Ezra through his stomach.

20/210

Ezra felt the pain wash over him. A scream was on the verge of rushing out of his throat. Then, the fear and anger disappeared, though the pain remained. Ezra took a deep breath.

Idia pointed his finger at Ezra. Red light sparkled from Idia’s fingertip once more. Ezra felt his wounds stitch together.

210/210

Idia stabbed him in a different location. The lung, this time.

10/210

It felt like Ezra had hot lava in his chest. He tried his best to breathe, even with the sharp object stuck in his body. Idia pulled out his sword and looked down at Ezra with a frown.

“Goodness, you’re a rather tough one, aren’t you? If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume you’re having an irritating bug bite you, not getting stabbed by a sword.”

Ezra smirked, the blood on his remaining teeth showing.

“T-that’s what this is. You’re nothing but a fucking bug.”

Idia’s fingers twitched and his smile disappeared. He healed Ezra again. Then he stabbed him through his heart.

5/210

Ezra felt the fear come, then disappear. Come, then disappear. Over and over. His hands would spasm, then stop, quieted by his skill.

Idia pulled out his sword.

“Well, I’m bored. Let’s get this over with.”

Idia raised his sword into the air and then brought it down.

A ring echoed through the alley. Blond hair trickled down the back of whoever was fighting Idia. Idia’s eyes shot open, and he jumped back.

“Commanding General!? I-uh, I can explain!” he said

“Save it. There’s no excuse for trying to murder a downed, defenseless opponent,” Synica said. She turned around and looked Ezra over. Her eyes crinkled as she looked at Ezra. She turned back to Idia.

“I’ll take care of him,” she said. “You go do whatever the hell you do off duty.”

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Commander, that isn’t necessary—“

“Vice commander, if you don’t remove yourself now, I will personally stick my sword up your ass and use you as a bludgeoning weapon against my enemies.”

Idia’s jaw opened and shut a few times. He nodded after a second and turned around, his footsteps clicking against the stone floor. Synica pulled something from her pouch: a glass bottle containing some kind of drink.

“Ezra, drink this.” She offered it to his lips.

Ezra pulled his lips away.

“Ezra, if you don’t drink this, you will die. Drink. Now.”

Was she telling the truth? What if she was like Idia? What if she killed him?

But he didn’t have a choice. He had to trust her, there was no way he would survive otherwise. He brought his lips back to the liquid and drank it. It tasted awful, of course, but he suppressed his gag reflex and forced it down. Instantly, his cuts began to mend themselves. Have you ever felt your heart get fixed in real-time? Ezra could now proudly say that he knew exactly how that felt, and he would highly recommend avoiding such an experience.

210/210

He took a shuddering breath, then looked at Synica.

“So, I presume that you’re going to take me to jail now?”

Synica sheathed her sword back and looked at Ezra.

“Unfortunately, Idia would very quickly make the necessary connections if I decided to take you elsewhere. I wish that I could simply let you go, Ezra. You’re not worth the trouble. But you made too much of a mark on your way out, anyway.”

Ezra stood to his feet and brushed himself off. “Well, damn.”

Synica began to march. “We can make this painful and humiliating, or you can follow me. Your choice.”

Ezra got back up and followed behind her. Synica glanced at him and shook her head.

“You scare me to death, I hope you know that,” she said. “No brat should be as calm as you are right now. That would’ve made lesser men break down screaming. I wouldn’t blame them, either.”

Ezra stuck his hands in his pocket to hide their shaking. “What can I say? I’m a special snowflake, I guess.”

Synica laughed. Around them, the sound of the bustling marketplace made it hard to make out her voice.

“Very special,” she said. “I don’t know if I should feel sorry for you, considering that you seem to be taking it so well.”

Ezra smirked. All he could see was the sword over his head, entering his chest. Over and over, and over—

“If you felt sorry for me, would you let me go?” he said.

Synica sighed, her shoulders slumping.

“I know I warned you about the mouthing off, but considering what you’ve just been through, I’m not sure I could do much worse,” she said

Ezra snickered and shook his head. Don’t scream. Don’t scream. Don’t scream.

“I seem to have gained the advantage,” he said

“You certainly have.”

They marched forward in silence. More than one person pointed at Ezra’s horrific scars and torn clothing.

“Idia let a lot slip,” he said.

“Did he?”

Ezra nodded.

“Yup. Stuff about shaping us, stuff about irritating truths, and something about us being cannon fodder, things like that.”

Synica looked off in the distance. She was quiet for a moment before she broke the silence.

“The easy answer would be that we want you to be ideal soldiers,” she said. “And as such, you need to be exposed to violence and taught to follow orders. To die, if necessary.”

“But that’s not the whole story.”

Synica looked from side to side, then faced toward Ezra.

“Firstly, as you might’ve guessed,” she said. “We don’t let go of the people who sign up. It sets a bad example for the other people in the program.”

“Second?”

“Secondly,” said Synica. “We cull the weak. The kingdom doesn’t particularly care if someone loses their life. It’s not a concern. That’s why I’m not allowed to step in.”

Ezra hummed. “Okay. Interesting.”

“Third,” she continued. “It enhances dependence on the kingdom. They want all of you to feel isolated and desperate so that the kingdom becomes the place you go to for aid. It’s almost unconscious, how it happens. You eventually come to think of this hellhole as your home, even though it doesn’t give a damn about you. Fourth, you’re all too busy infighting and blaming each other to focus on the kingdom, which is exactly how the queen likes it.”

Goodness, how pernicious.

This queen was kind of a genius.

“But there’s more,” Ezra said.”

Synica nodded.

“This war.” Synica paused. “The queen has no intent of ending it. Not any time soon. You haven’t been told about the Demon Lord’s weakness, correct?”

Ezra nodded.

“There are ten boss monsters,” she said. “Each of them is an anchor used to keep him on the mortal plain. If all ten are killed, then the Demon Lord becomes vulnerable,” she said. “Of course, multiple people have slain all ten. They then march up to the Demon Lord, believing themselves to be invincible. They all fail, without exception.”

She laughed dryly and looked up toward the sky.

“The queen has given up,” she said. “I have, too, if I’m honest. Instead, we’ve settled on another strategy.”

Ezra narrowed his eyes. “What kind of strategy?”

“Attrition warfare. Wear down the Demon Lord’s power over time. The only problem was that we started running out of traditional troops.”

She seemed to look past Ezra and her tone turned solemn.

“We came up with another way of sourcing those troops,” she said.

Ezra’s breath caught in his chest.

“How?” he said.

She looked him dead in the eye.

“You weren’t summoned by the Demon Lord, Ezra. The Queen's wizards found a spell...”

Multiple emotions flew through Ezra’s mind in a flash. Confusion. Shock. Fear. Ezra clicked his tongue.

“So that’s why he called us cannon fodder.”

Synica shrugged and didn’t respond.

“We’re at the castle. Follow me, don’t say a word.”

Ezra did as she said and refused to say a thing. More than one guard glared at him as he walked along the stone-protected halls.

Synica led him down into a staircase. The lower Ezra got, the more humid the air became. Eventually, they reached the bottom, revealing a row of cells. Most of them were empty, save for a handful of miserable-looking people. A man was at a desk near the entrance of the dungeon and behind the man was row after row of boxes, each with a lock on it.

Jailer - Lv. 15

“Commanding General Synica.”

“Jailer. Please equip this boy with our anti-spirit-weapon manacles.”

The jailer glanced at Ezra. “Where’s his weapon?”

Synica shot a look at Ezra as well.

Ezra sighed and revealed his needle.

The jailer snorted.

“Very dangerous weapon, that.”

Synica shook her head.

“All spirit weapons have the potential to be immensely dangerous. Don’t take it lightly,” she said.

The jailer shrugged and took the spirit weapon from Ezra’s hand. He reached around behind himself and grabbed one of the boxes on the wall, then stuffed the needle into the box, and then put the box away. Once he was done, he turned around to face us.

“Well, then, that’s that,” he said. “I’ll put the manacle on him.”

Ezra looked up at Synica.

“Couldn’t I just summon it back?”

Synica shook her head.

“That’s what the manacle is for.”

A stone dropped in Ezra’s stomach. That was one of his keys to escape, he was sure, he needed his weapon. How else was he supposed to fight back? The jailer cuffed a pair of manacles around Ezra’s hand. Instantly, he could feel something disappear from his chest. Something had changed.

He closed his fist.

“Recall,” he whispered under his breath.

Nothing happened.

“Recall!” he said a bit more insistently.

The jailer shook his head. “Sorry, buddy, but that won’t work around here. The manacles suppress binding spells and they were designed for far stronger than you. You’re not getting out.”

Synica marched to the left. “Follow me.”

Ezra followed behind her without a word. He knew better than to panic or try to make a run for it. It would only end in his death right now. Synica popped open one of the jail cells. It was a miserable place. Shit stained the ground around a bucket. He had a wood cot with completely torn-apart bedding and there was a bowl of water that seemed to have flies hovering over it.

“In,” Synica said.

Ezra complied and stepped into the cell. He turned toward and faced toward Synica.

“So, that’s it then?” he said.

“That’s it, Ezra. Your trial most likely will not occur. Otherworlders don’t have the same rights as sovereign citizens.”

“Of course.”

She began to walk off. She stopped right before she left.

“And Ezra, do keep in mind that your spirit weapon isn’t everything. You have other things at your disposal.”

She walked off without any further explanation.

Ezra wandered over to his destroyed bedding and sat down on the side.

“Well,” he said. “Shit.”