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CHAPTER 62: A Dilemma In The Middle Of Battle

At that motion, the men surrounding Barry moved in to attack. He let out a roar and responded in kind. Soon enough, bodies were flying left and right. Meanwhile, despite his leap over the large group, Sigurd was also surrounded. Yet that didn’t stop him as he plowed through the initial wave.

It was in the heat of battle that he noticed a few crucial things. The first was how easy it was to mow the enemies down; their difference in strength was as palpable as most of Sigurd’s other encounters. In fact, the same song and dance as those other skirmishes played out in that forest battle as well. And all that, despite Sigurd’s lack of a sword; it was the ultimate test of his capability and resistance.

The other thing that caught his eye – and which he noticed as soon as they were surrounded – was that, unlike previous encounters, the slaver group was much more varied. Humans comprised the bulk of the force, but several sub-species of beast-kin surrounded him too. Everything from cat-kin and wolf-kin, to lizard-kin and bird-kin; their variety both astounded yet sickened Sigurd.

‘How dare they do this sort of thing,’ he thought, distracted in the middle of battle. Perhaps it was due to how simple and easy a fight it was, that he could allow such thoughts to permeate his mind. ‘Hurting and enslaving others like themselves. Don’t they see how wrong it is?’

Another few quick punches cleared the path to one of the coiling ramps leading up.

‘No, what am I thinking?’ he was at odds with himself, fully engrossed by the moral dilemma. ‘Who am I to judge, after all? Just like the homeless don’t choose to live in poverty, criminals are often forced into it, perpetuated by an endless cycle of hate and violence.’

Sigurd kept swiftly moving up, barreling past the groups of foes as if he were a bowling ball and they were stacked Jenga pieces.

‘How many of these men were just victims too? Maybe some were slaves-turned-slavers?’ Joyce’s thoughts almost turned to pity, but she snapped back. ‘But fuck them! You always have a choice. And whether victim or not, there’s no justifying turning to any sort of crime!’

Clearing the path as he ascended higher into the initial tree structure, Sigurd was careful enough to launch his attackers to the side and not beyond the railing; his inner thoughts spilling out, avoiding a fatal fall was a sudden priority.

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‘Hell, in most cases of organized crime the perpetrators end up enjoying the suffering they cause! The several terrorist groups I helped take down on Earth was proof of it!’ Joyce thought, thereafter grinning. ‘That’s why the hammer of justice will befall on each and every one of these bastards!’

“Now then,” Sigurd spoke up, from the top up the first tree. He looked out across the rickety rope bridge in front of him and beyond, at the other structures, and scanned them all for the largest one he could see.

Then he spotted it, the building that surrounded a slightly larger tree. He knew that would be the central command for an outpost as large as the one hew found himself in. “Target acquired!” he said to himself, as he ran across the bridge.

One key aspect he took advantage of in the chaos of battle was that the majority of the slaver forces had descended the trees to take on Barry and his capable men. It meant that the tree canopies were left bereft of defenders. And of those that were left behind, none were strong enough to oppose Sigurd.

Making his way to that central building, Sigurd was faced with little opposition. Not even the slaver’s boss’ guards posed much of a threat; he dealt with the two well-armed men with ease before confronting and body-slamming the boss.

With his defeat, the remaining enemy forces scattered. Some attempted to flee, while other gave up. Yet both numbers paled in comparison to the slavers that had been defeated by Barry and his ragtag group.

They had proven their worth – and not just for keeping their word, in taking care of Mia and Nia. With the battle finished, Barry and his men helped Sigurd dismantle the compound for good. They started by rounding up all the fallen enemies and tying them up. Half of the group then proceeded to start taking the tied up slavers back to Grimroost – to be delivered tho the town guard for processing and jailing.

The other half swept the canopies, building by building, with Sigurd and Barry. Their objective was none other than the slaves. To their surprise, most of the buildings there served as resting quarters or recreational facilities. Only three of them housed slaves, all in extremely cramped settings. Women, men, and children were all stuffed equally into the cages, packaged tighter than a can of sardines, with no regard for safety, hygiene, or personal comfort.

In the first two locations, Sigurd was especially vigilant of the people that were released. He cross-referenced the torn piece of paper he received from the dwarf blacksmith and desperately observed every girl and woman that stepped out to freedom. Sigurd also called out the name on the paper, unsure of if he was butchering the pronunciation or not. Alas, he searched in vain for the person he intended to rescue was not in the first two sets.

Tense, and fearful she might have already been sold off, Sigurd rushed to the final building. Again he called out the name and took note of the freed slaves’ features, and sighed in relief when he saw a teenage girl that matched the dwarf's granddaughter's appearance. She confirmed it too.

After explaining how and why he was there to the apprehensive girl, Sigurd promptly requested Barry the use of his horse to take her back. “You don’t even need to ask!” Barry happily replied. “We’ll take everybody back to Grimroost and see you there soon!”

Thus, Sigurd and the dwarf’s granddaughter rode ahead of the second group and made haste to return to town. Barry and his men stayed behind – the second group took the freed slaves back as well.

All in all, it took them several round trips to transport all of the slavers and the freed slaves back to Grimroost, in an operation that even demanded they rent out some stagecoaches to pick up the pace, albeit it ended up taking them all afternoon long and well into the evening.

That, however, was something Sigurd would only learn about later. He managed to return in as quick a time as it took to arrive to that fated forest.