The Eastern Alliance vastly underestimated the depths to which a free people would resist an oppressor, and troops of the kingdom now known to be called the Republic of Arastia fought with great zeal and fervor. They knew what fate awaited every single man, woman, and child should they become a conquered people.
- On the Cataclysm by an unknown Quassian Scholar circa 103 AC.
My magic healed my body, but in my vanity, I noticed it did nothing for the marks and scars I was accumulating here and there. The days followed one another in a slow, steady rhythm, with little change for a further three days. Work, eat, work, heal, and sleep were the parts of my monotonous daily routine.
However, on the fourth day, I took my morning toilet a little earlier than usual due to waking from a nightmare of being pursued by sharp-bladed dark things. I could just make out a woman of middling years, with a face set with hard lines of grief, making her way to Degei before his regular motivational morning speech.
Gold circles were threaded throughout her raven-black hair and tinkled as she walked. I could not help but feel that her features were familiar, but in my morning state, my mind failed to make a connection. A small leather purse was exchanged, and Degei nodded solemnly to the woman, raising the purse a little higher with both hands before stuffing it into the loose folds of his clothes.
Subsequently, I was made to work even harder in the mines that day. I now labored four shifts, with only a few hours of rest after my evening meal, before I joined another slave gang to toil away in the dark blue depths. I was being worked to death. My mind, in its own twisted humor, joked that my new schedule gave me little time to have words and socialize with my newfound companions. Despite my circumstance working against me, we were able to hurriedly exchange occasional snippets at brief intervals in the day.
I made sure to pace myself, but this new grueling menu of work meant that I had to dedicate five points of Mana every day just to keep my body in working condition. However, thanks to this new forced work plan, I had started to gain rapidly in attribute points and skills. I had gained two points of Strength and another skill point in Hammers.
My near-sleepless nights earned me another point in Constitution and raised both my Endure and Rest skills. I had earnestly tried to raise my Rust spell and was rewarded with an increase in Intelligence and Wisdom, as well as finally raising the spell to level two. More importantly, thanks to my labors, I was gaining a modicum of experience. Putting aside my nightmarish conditions, the avid gamer inside of me actually looked forward to the next day and the opportunity to earn even more experience.
One small moment of levity that lightened my spirits for a day was a guard being berated by Degei for the state of his equipment. Unbeknownst to him, I had been casting Rust on his gear. He looked genuinely shocked at the state of his armor and weapons as the Overseer gave him a dressing down.
I had also secretly cast Rust on Kidu’s collar with some trepidation one evening before my spell had leveled up and gained in power. He showed no ill effect as he lay in his deep slumber, snoring wildly like a bear. I was satisfied to observe that there were a few splotches of rust about the edges of his collar the next day.
Through these observations, I concluded that it would be safe to cast Rust on my own collar. Through gritted teeth, I cast it that same evening to no ill effects, save for the usual feeling of wrongness and a very slight warm feeling around my neck where the metal contacted my skin. I had learned to effectively block out the sibilant whispers that seemed to come from just behind me when I cast Rust.
This experience, in my mind at least, proved how adaptable humans were. We have the ability to compartmentalize even the most peculiar things. It made me wonder if those who participated in the brutal slave trade business were able to go home at the end of the day with a smile on their face and love in their eyes. Did the same hand that wielded the whip also caress the head of an innocent child?
Though mentally exhausted, I was indeed certainly growing stronger. What didn’t kill me could only make me stronger, I muttered to myself, remembering the famous quote from Nietzsche. I needed to make my way out of here and escape. I was reasonably certain that Degei was already trying to kill me indirectly, and at this rate, who knew how much longer I would last? It was only my magic, my prodigious Constitution, and Adita’s sympathy that had allowed me to survive so far under my current horrendous conditions.
I knew that Constitution influenced health and overall resilience, but would that extend to resistance against disease? Resistance to the general frailties of the human condition? I was still young, but I wondered—could near immortality be possible if I pushed the attribute to its extreme? It was certainly a tantalizing line of thinking. However, this was, of course, all predicated on the fact that this world was real…
Just as I was mulling these thoughts over, there was a rumble that quaked through the ground. The sounds of clanging industry stopped as the reverberations shook the encampment, and a sense of panic infected the air. The earthquake, for it could be nothing else, rattled the building around me as a stampede of slaves made for the single entrance. Rising quickly on unsteady feet, I hurried to join them in exiting the stables.
Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.
Not before long, guards woken from their sleep stormed into the pens with a tired-looking Degei in tow. The guards violently ordered us to form orderly lines, the licks from a club or whip more threatening than the shaking of the earth as we waited for the rumblings to subside. I could hear the ignorant slaves whisper to each other something about land dragons stirring, or the Earth Mother being angry, and other such superstitious nonsense.
The locals probably had no idea about the mechanics of tectonic activities and continental drift, I thought to myself in smug superiority. However, a small part of me did wonder, that perhaps maybe, just maybe, it could actually be the work of actual land dragons.
“Get back to sleep the lot of you! Work tomorrow! Back! Back I say dogs!'' Degei ordered, half shouting, his words enforced with the stinging crack of studded leather.
I made my way back inside along with the other slaves, our common fear of Degei overriding our dread of the angry earth. That’s how well some of us were broken by fear of the whip.
Lying on my pallet, I tried to whisper to Kidu. But the snoring noises from his direction confirmed that he was already asleep. It would be churlish of me to steal him from it. Turning to my right, I whispered to Durhit. I could barely make out his craggy face in the gloom, and he responded with an annoyed grunt.
"Best be going to sleep, manling. Tomorrow will be the hardest, darkest day yet, mark my words," he said in an attempt at a quiet voice, before turning on his side and facing away from me, closing off all further avenues of inquiry.
Apprehensive and annoyed, I cast Rust impulsively at my collar. I felt the familiar uncomfortable and inimical sensation flow throughout my body, before I released it into the slave collar on my neck. The whispers had become stronger, and the crackle of the black lightning’s pulses felt increasingly like the heartbeat of a living creature now that the spell had increased in level.
The collar on my neck grew unbearably hot, sizzling my skin and filling the air with a sickeningly appetizing smell. It skirted the borders of agony, taking a chunk off my Health before it subsided to just merely painfully hot. I grit my teeth at the unexpected sensation, the strength of the reaction taking me completely by surprise. But there, alone in the darkness, I was unwilling to let out a sound and draw attention to myself. I hugged myself pathetically against the pain.
And then, I thought I heard something crack or give in the collar, like the sound of an errant foot slowly stepping on an expensive and fragile toy. I could feel a coarse sandy sensation where the metal met my neck. Tentative fingers shook as they reached to confirm the state of my collar, but I stopped them just before they brushed against the slowly cooling surface, remembering the pain from when I had touched it before. My mind scrambled for a solution to my predicament before I remembered an old staple of mine—Identify. Perhaps in this way, I could at least check the durability of the collar. Guiding my magic to the collar, I made a welcome discovery.
Iron Slave Collar
Durability 294/400
My hands were shaking, hesitant and unsure, as if unwilling to test the truth of a mirage in a desert, but I touched the collar anyway. Nothing happened. Sweet, blessed relief, nothing happened, no pain, no lightning shock. Touching the collar again several times to affirm my discovery, I began to cry silent tears of joy.
Even in my heightened emotional state, my mind sought to explain what had happened. The 'Iron Slave Collar of Obedience' had lost its suffix and was now just a simple 'Iron Slave Collar'. Though I was never particularly gifted in science, my improved Intelligence had helped me attain this sudden realization.
The rapid oxidation of my iron collar caused by my improved Rust spell had released a great deal of heat in an exothermic reaction, which had inflicted me with first or second-degree burns. This could be a boon, in that the effects of the level two spell were more rapid and significant.
On the other hand, this also meant that it would now be difficult for me to apply the spell against enemies secretly and without their knowledge. I hoped that the dark energies released when I cast the spell remained invisible, and with some chagrin, I noticed that the spell had cost an additional point of Mana.
The coarse sandy feeling around the area below my neck was probably oxide or rust that had shaken loose. I hypothesized that the degradation of the collar likely interfered with its delicate mechanics or magical circuitry, or whatever crazy system they used to keep a person in a state of slavery in this magical world.
Fearing a potential tetanus infection, despite my relatively high Constitution, I quickly cast Heal on myself. I checked the Status of my character to distract myself as the feeling of my skin knitting over was most uncomfortable. However, the soothing balm soon spread throughout my body and assuaged my concerns. With only four points of Mana remaining, and an unknown amount of time before I would probably be called to an even more grueling day, I decided to rest.
Though my talks with Durhit and Kidu had stoked the desire for adventure, my own actions this evening had lit a burning need within that was growing into a blaze. The need to be free. I found it rather laughably ironic that the thing I had so casually taken for granted in my old world was the thing I craved the most here.
The universe appeared to have agreed with my actions.
You have gained 1 Wisdom.