Stick opened his eyes once again to take a look at his [Status]. He had received the [Unbound] class. If Emilia and Lucille were right, this was his birthday present for coming of age. A smile formed on his face. This is a sign. There’s no doubt about it: Today’s the day! And what a birthday that will be.

He got out of his makeshift sleeping bag and the Commoner’s tent and took a look around the campsite already bustling with activity. The men were carrying big logs, different cloths and buckets of water to and from the campsite to the shanty town. Even though they had slept just as little, if not less, as Stick, they ran around excitedly like children. The previous days of skipping meals were barely an afterthought of today’s preparation. When the miners spotted Stick, they greeted him with a good morning before taking down the Commoner’s tent to use as a fire accelerator. They had already charred their sheets and sleeping bags after dinner with the genius idea from Cadmun to use the cooking pot to make fire starters. There’s no turning back now.

Seeing his home of the last few months being dragged away, torn apart and distributed into the homes of the servants, now-empty shanties—not that the servants had many possessions to begin with—he felt the winter’s cold creeping in from under his cape and a sliver of doubt stinging the back of his head. They were putting everything on the line for his plan. They? Why did I think of them as ‘they’? It should be ‘we’, right?

Stick watched closely as Titor, Smith and Michael filled all kinds of bowls, buckets and pots with water from the well. They hid them behind Lydia’s shanty, one of the few buildings they wouldn’t burn. They had decided to only burn the first two rows of shanties so that the smokescreen would make it difficult for the Baron to see what’s going on from his tower. They had also removed a few planks here and there to fix as many of the shanties they were sparing as possible. The servants had agreed to cram themselves in groups of three or four in the remaining buildings, depending on how well the miners would be able to control the fire. Everyone will be worse off after today. They really want to see the Lords escape.

Again with the ‘they’. ‘Everyone’ should include Stick too. Is it because I’m hoping to get out of here too? It’s true that, if we get that second horse, I would be the biggest help for their escape. No one else plans on getting away. At least not today. They’re all fine with waiting for the Blitz family to return.

“Happy World Day, Stick,” Cadmun interrupted his train of thought. “Who would’ve guessed that we’d ever have a reason to celebrate on this day again?”

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The bald man in charge of holding off the Adventurers carried a heavy pile of meat in his hands and a big smile on his face.

“Yeah,” Stick answered weakly. “Happy World Day.”

“I’ve got the rest of the lure here. The Dire Wolves near the Manor are very agitated and probably want more,” Cadmun said. “Why don’t you put it in your Inventory for now? Smith will come to you when it’s time to let them in.”

“I don’t know how much more space I have in there.” Stick opened the [Inventory] and placed the [Scrap Meat] next to the other provisions and the spare clothing for the Lords inside.

Am I counting myself out of the slaves that will stay here because my Player Inventory is invaluable to the escape or is it because I know that I’d face less severe punishment than the NPCs if I get caught? NPCs? Did I really think of them as NPCs?

“Why the long face?” Cadmun asked.

Stick quickly dismissed him: “Oh, it’s nothing.”

Or maybe it’s because I’m not really one of them.

“It’s always something when they say it’s nothing, Recruit,” Cadmun retorted. “What’s on your mind?”

Stick needed a moment to think. He didn’t realise what Cadmun had just called him at first and the bald man took notice.

“You know how I took up the Baron’s offer to mislead him from our plan?”

“Yes, what about it? You think he’s onto us?”

“No, but it’s been on my mind the whole week.”

Cadmun frowned. “You’re not actually considering an Adventurer position in Carnifex, are you?”

“No, not really,” Stick stammered. “I mean, kind of?”

Cadmun grabbed him by the collar and the cold, meaty juices on his fingers dripped down Stick’s chest. “What’s that supposed to mean? The nice food and baths with women got into your head, you little goblinshit?”

image [https://i.imgur.com/2vwtsyt.jpeg]

“No, no, calm down! That’s not what I meant!”

Cadmun released him from his grasp, but not from his sight. He crossed his arms with a grunt, demanding an answer. Gods, how do I explain this?

“It’s just that no one here has a chance to escape with the Lords like I do. They’re sacrificing so much without knowing if my plan will work.”

“And you just noticed that now? It’s a bit late to have doubts about the plan, don’t you think?”

“I don’t have doubts, Cadmun. I’m worried. The only thing that’s guaranteed is that they’ll be worse off by the end of the day. And once the Adventurers find out that the fire and the wolves weren’t an accident, who knows what they’ll do to them. If I become one of them instead of taking part in the escape, then I could make sure that they’ll be treated humanely.”

Cadmun let Stick finish before he spoke. He lowered his arms without breaking eye contact. He didn’t speak until no one else was around. He did so not because he didn’t want anyone to hear what he was about to say. The miners passing by were too busy to notice their argument anyway. He did so because he wanted Stick to hear what he had to say.