“It’s right here,” said Luc, pointing at the clearing near the edge of the forest. Looking at the hole blocked with rocks, still partially covered by dried leaves, made Luc’s stomach twist. If I had been a couple of minutes slower, I would’ve been buried inside. Forever.

“Hm,” said Jad, strolling around the hole. He used his cane to sweep away some of the dried leaves, revealing more of the collapsed hole. Tapping his chin, he closed his eyes and stood in the middle of the clearing, completely silent. After a moment, his eyes opened and he smiled, beckoning at the three wagon drivers.

“Can I leave now?” asked Luc, moving to stand in the shade.

“My friend!” said Jad, hobbling over to Luc. “Would you spare an old man a few minutes of your company? It will take some time for us to break through the rubble.”

Luc scowled and pointed at the three wagon drivers. “It’s going to take all day just to clear the entrance. And like I told you before, the whole thing is probably collapsed inside.”

“Never believe what appears obvious,” said Jad.

Pondering over what Jad meant, Luc watched as the wagon drivers walked to their wagons. Grabbing the white cloths that covered the back of their wagons, each one of the drivers yanked the cloth off. Under the cloth, each one of the wagons held a single iron cage, built into the wagon’s base. Inside each of the iron cages were two men. The men in the cages wore only tattered brown trousers, backs bared. Luc could see marks of a whip on most of their backs.

“Slaves?” asked Luc. In Tosa, slavery had been banned due to the likelihood of uprisings. Luc’s father had made it clear to him that slavery was nothing but a waste of resources. Why rely on slaves when people would be willing to do the same work for just a small wage and none of the rebellions? In his father’s words, the tradeoff was more than worth it.

“They are lowly criminals,” said Jad, scratching his mole. “Caught for theft and assault. Under the right circumstances, they can be the most efficient of workers.”

The wagon drivers opened the cages, and the men began filing out. As they left the cages, they accepted shovels that were handed to them. Each of the men moved the same way – eyes turned downwards and shoulders slumped. As they walked past Luc and Jad, Luc noticed that the first four of the men looked very similar to the three wagon drivers, with black hair, light skin, and thick beards. The two men in the last wagon looked different. The first one of them was tall, almost as tall as the driver with the {Swordsman of Wind} title. He had spiky red hair and sky-blue eyes directed forwards instead of down at the ground.

“He’s a slave too?” Luc whispered to Jad.

“That is Dante,” said Jad, “Despite the way he looks, he is our most obedient slave. He has never spoken back to any of us, and we have never had to use the whip on him.”

“Get off me, you filthy buggers!” shouted a voice near the wagons.

Crack! A whip lashed through the air and struck the last man on the back. Grunting with the pain, the man allowed two of the wagon drivers to pull him away from the cornfield, where he had been trying to run. Luc’s eyes widened when he saw the man.

The man’s appearance was disheveled and messy. From what Luc could tell, he had the most whip marks on his body, covering his entire torso and back. But that wasn’t what caught Luc’s attention. What caught Luc’s attention was the tousled black hair and hazel brown that was signature of a citizen of Tosa.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“You!” said Luc, approaching the man. “You’re from Tosa!”

“What’s that to you?” said the man, sneering. “You another looter stealing from graves?”

One of the wagon drivers clouted the man on the back of the head.

“Watch your mouth, peasant,” said Luc, lip curling up with distaste. “I am the heir of Tosa. You will treat me with respect and honor!”

“Oh, please,” said the man, rolling his eyes. “If you’re the heir of Tosa then I’m the Emperor. You’re not fooling anyone with that.”

Before Luc could spit back a reply, the man snatched a shovel away from one of the wagon drivers and swaggered to the collapsed entrance to the tomb. The other men had already started digging, driving their shovels into the rock. Under their assault, the rocks chipped and cracked open within seconds.

They all have a skill for digging, Luc realized as they continued to work. And it seems like they’ve leveled that skill more than a fair amount.

Mesmerized by the slaves’ work, Luc watched as they systematically broke through the rocks at the entrance of the tomb. While they worked, the three wagon drivers stood around them, each holding a whip. When one of the slaves took too long of a break or muttered a complaint, a whip was brought down on his shoulders, sending him straight back to work. With their constant and rapid pace of work, the slaves revealed a gaping tunnel in less than an hour.

Not everything inside collapsed? Glancing inside the dark hole, Luc saw that there were bits and pieces of rubble lying around on the stone floor. However, most of the ceiling of the tunnel remained, including the walls and the majority of the foundation.

“Never believe what appears obvious,” said Jad, walking up to Luc and patting him on the shoulder. “Most collapse mechanisms inside tombs are simply a ruse to get people out.”

“Ah,” said Luc, not really understanding.

“Sor! Sheel! Maho!” said Jad, calling for the three wagon drivers. “Prepare to enter!”

The wagon drivers cracked their whips, rounding up the six slaves. Obediently, the slaves tied large sacks around their waists and shuffled towards the tunnel, holding their shovels in their hands. Behind them, the three wagon drivers followed, flicking their whips whenever anyone broke formation. As the slave from Tosa passed Luc, Luc spoke.

“Shame on you for committing crimes and tarnishing the name of Tosa,” said Luc, still upset with the man’s attitude from earlier. “My father will have you beheaded if you ever set foot in the territory again.”

The slave from Tosa turned to Luc. “Just like he beheaded his wife?”

What?

“Back in line!” snapped one of the wagon drivers, cracking his whip. The slave turned away from Luc and trudged into the tunnel alongside the other slaves.

Luc stood there, unmoving. When he was five years old, his mother had vanished without a trace. His father claimed that she had fallen ill and needed to leave the capital to receive treatment. A couple of weeks later, Luc’s mother was announced dead. It had been an abrupt, surreal time in Luc’s life. It was a time he had sealed off in his memories long ago. But this slave’s words… What does he mean ‘beheaded his wife’?

“Well,” said Jad, interrupting Luc’s thoughts. “I will not ask you to accompany me into the tomb. Feel free to conduct your own business from here on out. I will let you know when we have finished exploring the tomb. Good day.”

Luc watched as Jad walked into the tunnel, following the slaves and the wagon drivers. Looking at the entrance to the tomb, Luc was very aware of the dangers that existed inside. If he was to go back inside, there was a high likelihood that he would run into more monsters just like that giant spider. And there was no guarantee that he would make it out alive again. The coward inside of him screamed that he should forget about the slave’s words and go back to the Happy Farmer Inn.

But the son inside of him remembered his mother’s warm embrace, gentle voice, and kind demeanor. Deep within, Luc remembered that she was the one who had given him everything good that had ever existed in his life. And that was something he could never forget, even if he was a self-proclaimed coward. If that slave knows something about my mother that I don’t, I owe it to her to find out.

He took a deep breath, trying to build the courage to re-enter the tomb.

Unless something tries to kill me again, of course.

Hands tightening into fists, Luc walked into the tunnel after Jad.