Still wanting to be cautious of any extra noise or alerts, Sigurd stealthily moved through the shadows, avoiding the bandits' patrols in the halls. At every corner of the new area, he would press against the corners and wait. The bandits’ footsteps on the corrugated metal flooring gave their positions away, giving him leeway to sneak by.

It was at that moment he noticed his footsteps, on the other hand, made no sound whatsoever. The Concealment skill, he concluded, was extremely overpowered.

Inching closer to the heart of the dungeon, the descending paths eventually lead him to a lone door at the end of a hall. It was unguarded, but locked. Just then, a bandit that was making the rounds walked in his direction.

“You gonna go check on the merch?" A voice echoed beyond the corner.

“Yeah,” the bandit replied. “Somebody needs to make sure they're still breathing.”

“Of course, just make sure you don't get too close to them. Wouldn't want the boss to do to you what he did to the last guy!”

“No shit," the bandit whispered to himself, before replying aloud, “I'll be right back!”

He proceeded to unlock the door and enter; Sigurd sneaked in behind him.

They found themselves in a massive, pitch-black room. The only source of light was a single lamp hanging in the middle of the room. Cages surrounded them, almost all empty, yet the lingering, putrid smell of dried piss and scat invaded their noses.

Amid it all, Sigurd recognized one more scent: the unmistakable, metallic stench of blood. He trailed behind the bandit for a few feet and hid behind one of the cages as the man kept walking.

The bandit stopped short of the light, peeked at the middle of the room, and nodded.

“Hey, come on man, what are you doing? Let’s fucking go already!" voiced the man outside, from beyond the door.

“Yea, yea, I'm coming!" the bandit in the room yelled, before sprinting out the door.

Once Sigurd heard the door lock again, he knew he was in the clear. He sighed another breath of relief, glad he had made it to his destination, but grew increasingly concerned for the girls. His heart pounded in his chest, a mix of fear and determination driving him forward.

He undid the Concealment and slowly walked down the path of cages, inspecting each one. They were mostly small and stacked up to the roof, but a closer inspection confirmed they were indeed all vacant.

‘This is deplorable,' Joyce growled in disgust. ‘How typical of a medieval setting, though to these people it might as well be a normal thing!’

It was a straight path to the center of the room, but Sigurd glanced at each cage to be sure. He was partly hesitant for what he would find, as the single light in the middle of the room beckoned him to his true destination, while the urgency of the situation hurried him.

When he reached the light, the scene had been set and was unveiled before him. An assortment of cages ranging in size were stacked under the light, with the largest holding up three smaller ones. Adjacent to the largest one was a cage of half the width, housing two women. And curled into a ball in the middle of the largest cage was one of the girls.

Beside the cages, just in front of Sigurd as he approached, was a dead bandit. His skull had been crushed; his brains lay scattered amid a pool of blood.

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Snapping out of the shock of the scene, Sigurd ran up to the cage, yelling in partial relief, “Nia, there you are!”

“Sigurd..?" she asked, lying still on her side, facing away from him.

He scanned the rest of the cages there and, puzzled, followed up, “Where's Mia?”

“What do you mean Nia?" the girl cried out, lifting herself. “I'm Mia!”

“Sorry, you both look alike to me…” he quipped, trying to ease the mood, but his slight grin became somber when Mia turned to face him.

Her tear-stained face and trembling body made Sigurd's heart clench. Her left cheek was swollen and her nose and left eye were bruised purple. Her already old and tattered clothes were partially ripped, and there were visible finger marks on her neck.

Sigurd tore the cage door open and stepped inside. He inspected her wounds. Rage boiled to the surface and filled his face, as he muttered, “Who did this?”

He glared at the two imprisoned women, causing Mia to protest. “What are you thinking?! It wasn't them!" her voice cracked, as she stood between them and his line of sight.

Sigurd's eyes darted before he stared straight into Mia's. Struggling to contain his fury, he took a breath and asked, “What happened here? And where is Nia?”

Shaking, she pointed at the bloody corpse next to Sigurd. “He came into the room before, drunk," she started. “He opened the cage and I shielded Nia from him. I didn't know what he wanted, but he kept laughing and licking his lips as he stared down at both of us.

“He started to say how he thought I was ‘perfect’, and how it was ‘finally his time’. At that point, I could tell what he wanted. It's what they always want. I tried to shove him away, but that angered him. So he grabbed me by the wrist and pushed me down.”

As Mia recounted what happened, Sigurd grew angrier. The more he heard, the more he felt like ripping the corpse apart.

“He pinned my arms down and leaned in close, so I tried to kick him away, as hard as I could, but… it wasn't enough," her voice cracked and her breathing grew shallow. “That only made him madder, so he punched me in the face, and then put his hands around my neck. He squeezed hard, and I couldn't breathe…”

Her face contorted into a grimace. In all that time, Sigurd didn't stop staring into her eyes.

“I thought I was gonna die... when their boss came into the room. He yelled, ‘What did I tell you about hurting the merchandise?! You are not to touch them!' and then grabbed the man by the head, ripped him off of me, and out of the cage. The boss then took one look at me and crushed the man's head.”

The revelation of the bandits' boss' strength alarmed Sigurd. ‘And he did that with one hand? Shit,' he thought.

“Right after he dropped the man's body there, he shook his hand of all the blood and stepped inside the cage. I don't know why he did, but I couldn't move, so Nia stepped between me and him," she covered her face with her hands. “He seemed amused by her bravery, and then she told him something I couldn't overhear, after which he grabbed her by the neck collar, shoved her in a small cage, and took her away.”

Finally finished, she pointed to the door behind them. Mia's recollection shattered Sigurd's heart. His anger was temporarily replaced by sorrowful empathy, as he tightly embraced her. She fought back tears but sniffled loudly.

Sigurd held her there for a few minutes, whispering, “Why did you leave the safety of the carriage? I’m not blaming you, and they would've surely found you either way, but I wonder if it would've made a difference...”

“I'm sorry," she struggled to speak. “I should have listened.”

“It’s alright. You'll be okay now that I'm here," he added in reassurance.

Mia lightly rubbed her snot and tear-filled face against Sigurd's shoulder before stepping back and asking, “What about Nia?”

“I'm going to save her too, right now, and then we're all getting out of here." With that declaration, Sigurd stood and grabbed Mia's hand, prompting her to follow him.

As they passed by the two women's cage, the soon-to-be-slaves shared a dejected look. The clang of the metal on their cage, as it too was torn open, shocked them. Sigurd reached a helping hand inside and said, with a smile, “I said we're all getting out of here, that includes you.”

His words lit up the two women's faces as they stood and walked out of the cage. One of them, an elf, was still wary of Sigurd, refusing his hand. She assisted the human woman, whose leg was broken. It was clear she had also been mistreated by the bandits, though to a less severe degree.

All four of them approached the double doors at the back of the room. With trepidation, Sigurd pushed the doors open, telling them, “Stay hidden, and be cautious of the other door.”