Part 2

BARK! BARK!

The loud, heart-thumping barks of the two blackhounds signaled their imminent arrival in front of the gate. Six people were manning the station, four of whom were armed with long halberds with swords affixed at their hips. They donned a variety of multi-colored suits which reminded him of the Pontifex Swiss Guards. One of the soldiers wore black clothes interlaced with steel rings and held the chains which kept the hounds at bay.

The carriage was ordered to stop by a soldier who removed his helmet. The driver left his seat and they were engaged in a short discussion before they were permitted entry into the mansion grounds.

Past the tall polished stone gate, the large backyard of the mansion was a vast space of packed dirt. There were wooden sheds here and there, while small groups of soldiers patrolled the walls, other than that the mansion lacked much in terms of decorations.

They soon arrived at an area where seven other carriages were parked, some were covered while others were more open. Uniformity wasn't evident in this group. Isaiah examined the people coming out of the other carriages. Other than the armed men, most were chained like his party.

Both men and women, young and old, were subjected to the same level of treatment. Their clothes lacked much covering and looked rough, slippers or shoes weren't present on their feet and their faces had the same sullen, hopeless look. That, however, was reasonable.

Many would have wanted to run for their freedoms, but the level of security this place offered was nothing to scoff at. Tall fences trapped the people inside while soldiers, armed with blunt and ranged weapons positioned themselves here and there or were patrolling the place. Hunger and thirst only added to the level of despair the slaves were feeling, even Isaiah was not immune to these feelings.

Those, however, weren't the only thing that kept many from trying to escape.

Crawling on all fours, the very picture of a hellish monster - two Dobermans patrolled alongside their veiled masters, their mouths dripping with rabies-infested saliva, their constant growling and violent barks were quick to demoralize the minds of the slaves. Even if one were to run and cross the walls and towards the safety of the forest, the very image of being chased out by these creatures would be more than enough to produce nightmares to last an entire year.

"Come now, out you go..." Hans banged the side of the carriage as he dragged the slaves.

As Isaiah left the carriage, his foot stepped into a wet surface, looking down he saw that the puddle of water was a reddish-brown mixture.

‘Blood?’ He lifted his foot and began wiping it in the drier dirt ahead. There were no shoes offered, and none would probably offered in the future, but Isaiah wasn’t too bothered by it, he was used to walking barefoot. The main issue was the identity of his captors.

Hans then drew a line with his sword on the ground and signaled for them to line up in front. All four quietly obeyed, not that they could do anything else while the driver was called over to a small shed-like building. While waiting for further instructions, Isaiah began to look around trying to figure out who these people were, though he was confused by the setting he found himself in.

‘They looked like medieval-era Swiss or like that one German mercenary, but why would they dress up like that... Plus, they don’t have guns?’

As he continued to look around he heard some of the guards speak. They spoke a language that Isaiah felt like he had heard before, but wasn’t quite sure, sadly, unlike the language the old man and Hans spoke, he couldn’t understand them.

However as he strained his focus to listen, he began to hear some phrases that he was familiar with, phrases like 'Ja' 'Kommandant' 'Wunderbar', and in a mocking tone, 'Der Fuhrer Kilo'. Isaiah's knowledge of German may not be that extensive but he could say for sure that these people spoke the language of the Deutsch.

'So I am in Germany... But why are there no guns among the guards? Why use spears and swords? No cellphones, no bulletproof vest, not even cameras?' Isaiah looked at the edges of the walls and once again began to question the validity of what he was seeing. It just didn't make any sense to him. The old man stated he was in Dachia, whatever that is, and since many spoke German he could reasonably guess that he was somewhere in the Dutch Republic, or Germany itself but the severe lack of machinery, and machinery is Germany's trademark, made him ask the same question,

'Where am I? Europe is supposed to be all modernized but why does it feel like I am in a backwater village or something?'

But as those thoughts came to his mind, a rather strange question appeared before him.

'Am I in a different world?' For a while, he paused. The thought itself began to gain some ground in his mental debate. Everything would make most sense if he went with that train of thought but there was one major issue with the idea, and that was,

'There is no way I could be Isekai'd.'

Isaiah was very familiar with the concept itself, especially with the rise of the genre's popularity. He had read many of such books but he had always thought of those as simply entertainment, just a form of escapism. Just fantasy to stir the mind.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

'Yet this is way too true to be real... Or is it?'

He had heard somewhere that the mind would tend to seek the answer one wanted to hear and not what was true. People would subconsciously choose the more harmful choice if it meant emotionally protecting them from reality. If that is what he was feeling now, then Isaiah could chalk it up as his mind clouded his judgment to the answer his subconscious self wanted to hear.

‘And I definitely want to be placed in another world now didn’t I?’ He shook the thoughts off his head, it was absurd to think of fantasy becoming true, especially since this could all be just one elaborate prank. There may even be cameras here and there videotaping his very actions now and everyone else around him was all just paid actors.

Really now, what if videos of him acting like an overpowered edge lord because he thought of himself as the main character of a novel got circulated to the public? The mere thought of that happening frightened him more than the day he was lining up with his cousin for circumcision.

But as he once more began to look around, however, the thought of being Isekaid never left his mind. If this was one elaborate prank, there was no way in hell this was legal, especially in this day's political climate. Of all the reasons he could come up with, only the Isekai one made the most sense apart from the dread he was being sold into slavery.

But as Isaiah was trying to think things through, Hans opened his mouth,

"Move along..."

They were led towards the cellar entrance of an underground hallway where a long line of prisoners was formed. As Isaiah descended the dimly lit hall, the smell of decay took hold of his nose while smoke from somewhere forced many to cough constantly. As he stood in his place at the line, he heard a chill-inducing screech coming from deep into the room.

"Aaaaaaaaah!"

His skin jumped, and he felt his heart skip a beat. His eyes turned wide and he tried to look ahead. Other slaves had the same reaction as he did and whispers began to echo the hallway, but everything turned silent when another scream erupted from the hallway. Many of the slaves were disconcerted, but there was little they could do as the guards kept a vigilant watch on any who dared walk out of line.

"Whats... What's going on?" Unable to keep his curiosity, Isaiah asked no one in particular. Hans who stood nearby flashed a very ugly grin...

"Something wrong kiddo?"

"It... Yes sir, why?"

"Haha, simple... You'll soon know." He smugly grinned when he jerked his chin forward, "Look at that... Special treatment eh?"

Just in front, the driver soon returned with two muscular guys just behind. Hans pointed towards Isaiah and the two guys descended on him, holding him in the arms and legs. Being that Isaiah was more of a book person than a sporty one, he lacked the strength to even remotely budge these two burly dudes.

"Let me off..." Isaiah flailed as much as he could but was soon silenced when a gag was placed on his mouth. "Mfffff!"

He was then carried off towards the front of the line. The distant screams became louder and louder, and soon Isaiah caught a whiff of something burning...

"This guy..." The driver went in front of a desk, "It's the special good the boss told me to pick up..."

"Hmm, ahh Olfo the Orc, no wonder why you were missing here... Aha, mhm, Ja, ja..." The clerk picked up his quill and wrote something in his paper before gesturing for them to proceed.

It was here, as they entered the room that Isaiah lost all his strength and his eyes grew wide.

'Branding...'

It was a form of medieval torture where a brand was marked on a person's body, the marking was usually done by a superheated rod pressed against one's flesh, naturally, it was painful. A tear fell from his eyes and he flailed even harder, but none of his efforts could avoid him from what was about to happen.

The room was dark, lit only by a burning furnace. Three people stood inside, one of whom was heating a metal probe in the furnace. The two large men propped him down on his knees and tied his chains to two poles at his side. They then removed the fur coat, revealing his flat chest.

Then, one of the men grabbed his hair and held his head up as the other took the heated probe away from the fireplace.

"Wait... What is his magic again?" Another asked prompting the man with the probe to pause, "This might not be good,"

"Don't worry..." Olfo took out his paper, "Lightning it says here."

"Right..." The soldier had a concerned look as he turned to the other soldier who shook his head, "I see... It's safe then." He then nodded to the one with the probe to proceed.

'What have I done wrong?' Isaiah asked himself as he pulled his arms as hard as he could, but all he was doing was tearing on his skin with how tight the chains were on his shoulders.

'What is this!? This is illegal, there is no way this is real... Where is the camera, where are the people... Guys, please get out now! Please tell me it's a prank!... Come on please!?' Tears began to fall from his eyes in an even bigger volume but despite all that, the probe got closer and closer. Soon, his chest could feel the heat from the metal rod and he began to shake. He looked at the man holding the rod to dissuade him, and then...

Psssssssh!

"MFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF!"

The rod was pressed on his skin while a hand held him from behind.

"MFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF!"

He cried. The pain in his chest, the burning sensation, it was too much for him to bear... Soon, his body went numb from the pain, and the rod was removed. As he fell, the chains holding him from behind, he could see the bits and pieces of his burned flesh on his skin, on his chest was an ominous mark of a scorpion, a mark that was still sizzling.

Pain... A stinging, biting, bulbing pain.

His mind went blank, he couldn't comprehend what had just happened. His gag was removed and the chains were lost which caused him to fall to the floor headfirst. Here more tears went out of his eyes.

"What..." He mumbled as his whole body started to heat and his vision got blurry, a sign of a panic attack. "Why-"

He was suddenly held up by one of his captors who looked him in the eye, grinned then dragged him out of the place,

"Aaah!" Isaiah screamed, for that was all he could say as his knees scraped the floor, he was thrown into a corner where the captor turned to his companions and nodded,

"Take him, he's ready!"

They quickly grabbed him and propped him up causing him to fall from the sudden movements. Though the branding wasn't that painful it was the shock that that happened that caused the most damage to Isaiah. He just didn't think that his pranksters would go that far...

'Wait... Is this even a prank anymore?'

Isaiah looked around. The men around him were way too serious, almost as if...

"Isekai."

"What?" The man to his right looked at him, "This man got delusional this quickly."

"Then again, they do add 'That' to the tattoos." The one to the left chimed,

"Th-What that?" Isaiah asked,

"That? You don't know?"

"No... What do you..." Isaiah's head began to ache as his knees folded.

"Poison of course. The mark of the scorpion carries poison with it to ensure behavior... Now come on, we are still a long way from home."

"No..."

"What do you-"

"Stop that..." The man to the left bunched up his fist, "Got stuff to do, let's make this quick."

"Ey!" The man to the right tried to stop him but his fist struck Isaiah in the head knocking him down, "I wanted to do that part."