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Wandering Dregs
Chapter 1: Next Time...

Chapter 1: Next Time...

“What… did you just say?”

Seething, Dawson clenched his fists.

“Did you not hear me the first time? Not only are you ugly, but you’re deaf too?”

Vow then said, “My condolences, Mr. Licher. You are truly unfortunate.”

Eyes wide by the complete change in attitude, Dawson forgot his anger for a moment and could only look on in a stupor.

The slave stroked her chin as if in deep thought and flashed a sinister jeering smile as she said, “I know it’s been a struggle for someone like you to find a woman that can accept you. After all, you’re as ugly as an inbred troll and orc combined. It’s inevitable for you to not be able to find a lifelong mate.”

Dawson’s mind was blank as he was trying to register what she was saying, which led to the grave mistake of letting her continue using her poisonous tongue.

“However, I know a way for you to continue spreading your ugly frog spawns. You just need to go to a brothel! Even if some of the women there kick, scream, and beg not to be with you; I’m sure there will be a brave person there. The type of person who would do anything for money.”

“Y-you…”

Dawson was about to explode.

“Wait, I’m not finished yet. After doing the deed with you, they’ll feel like they swam in sewage. Sewage so vile that it could never be washed away…”

“Enough!”

Finally having lost it, Dawson was now the one gripping the cage and shaking it like a madman, while Vow stepped away from the cage.

Deciding that she needed one more push, she continued to speak to him.

“Did I strike a nerve? It seems that I spoke a bit too truthfully.”

“Shut the fuck up!”

Dawson, red faced, reached into his pockets furiously. As the clacking of keys resounded, he pulled out a ring filled with keys.

Due to how many keys there were, Dawson struggled to find the correct one.

Seeing Dawson flip through the keys in his hands one by one, Vow sighed, and pointed, “It's the square silver key in the middle. The key that can unlock the locks of all the cages. Literally labeled, ‘Master Cage Key.’”

“Fuck off.”

However, Dawson did look at the square silver key in the middle. It was also labeled “Master Cage Key.”

Giving a vicious sneer, “Dumbass, you’re done for now!”

He pulled the key out and began violently shoving it inside the lock, but in his hurry, he struggled to put the key inside the keyhole for a few moments.

After inserting the key, he even turned the key left instead of right.

“Dammit! Is this thing broken!?”

“...”

Vow was silent the entire time, unsure of weather to help or not.

‘No, I don’t have time for this.’

Knowing the guards would likely come by any second now, she decided to help.

“Turn it the other way…”

Dawson listened subconsciously and finally the cage door opened.

“Hah! You’re do-”

He didn’t even get to finish his words before Vow jumped on top of him. Knocking him down onto the floor was easy as she caught him by surprise, but Dawson was not to be taken down without resistance.

“Gah! Get off me!”

While on the ground, he reached his right hand out ready to strike her with his fist. As a slave, even if Vow’s typical food was better than other slaves, she was still severely malnourished.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Normal slaves in the Smiling Hands were given coarse bread, grass, and maybe some leftover vegetables.

Vow received the same meals as other slaves, but she would also get leftover soft bread and even meat.

However, all slaves only received one or two meals a day. So Vow's body was only in slightly better condition than other slaves.

In short, if she was hit by a well-fed grown man, she would definitely not be able to resist getting thrown off.

Knowing well the results of a frontal clash, she backed away from Dawson and avoided his punch.

Taking advantage of the fact that his opponent's attack missed, she stomped on his chest.

“Kugh…!”

Although she wasn’t strong enough nor heavy enough to break his ribs, she was able to squeeze the air out of his lungs.

While Dawson was recoiling and struggling to catch his breath, she took out her secret weapon. The knife she stole secretly as she was tasked with loading crates.

‘Die!’

Her actions were swift while she stayed silent, she aimed for the merchant’s neck with a knife in hand.

She pushed her knife down with both hands at the center of Dawson’s neck.

She remembered seeing how the mercenaries hired by Smiling Hands operated against the occasional human bandits.

They always aimed to end the fight as soon as possible with as little injuries as possible by targeting the vulnerable necks of their opponents.

She aimed to imitate their actions, yet reality proved that it was harder than it looked.

She wasn’t a trained or experienced fighter. So while she did manage to drive the knife into her opponent's neck, she only then realized that she had made a mistake.

Her knife would definitely kill him without a doubt as it was already half-way into Dawson’s neck.

The problem was that she should have driven her knife into Dawson’s eye socket so as to instantly kill him.

After all, the bandits all had been able to move for at least a few seconds after their throat was cut before falling. Those few seconds would leave room for last second dangerous retaliation.

Realizing this, she hurriedly pulled back her now blood covered knife and stepped away warily. The knife now removed, show the large cut on Dawson’s neck where blood was constantly seeping out of.

“Guak…! Kack…!”

Feeling the pain and blood leaking from his neck, Dawson clutched his neck and his eyes constricted in fear as he caught a glimpse of the blood-tipped knife in Vow’s hands.

He looked up at the weak-looking yet menacing standing figure shrouded in the tent’s shade and limited lighting.

He saw a glint he had never seen before. In fact, no one else he had ever met had such a… clear look in their eyes.

Not the peers he talked to, the merchants he met, or the mercenaries he hired.

Enlightened eyes filled with intelligence, logic, and coldness. Such a look that felt as if something other than human was looking at him.

‘What was… with that look?’

Why did that look… terrify him to no end?

Realizing he was really going to die, he tried to scream. He wanted to yell for help, but his damaged throat was filled with blood; he could only muster some choking noises before his eyes started seeing the light.

His life was flashing before his eyes.

===

Thirteen years ago, when he was 21 years old and following his father with a small caravan of merely 3 carriages, 14 merchants, and 5 bodyguards; they were going to a small village to hopefully purchase some local specialties and sell them at a higher price in a town or city.

Then they found out the village had been ransacked and looted completely. They later learned from the survivors that the culprits were actually the doing of the rebel group, The Sword of All.

Realizing there was likely nothing to be gained here, their caravan still stayed. It wasn’t because they felt compassionate or sorry for the villagers.

After all, even when the refugee villagers begged for food, they ignored them. When some old men from the ruined village tried to steal from them, their bodyguards were quick to subdue and chop off their hands.

It was because they were after another product that the ruined village still had.

People.

Originally, they planned on using the animal cages and collars to capture some beasts or some weaker monsters; but these would serve just as well on people.

After their demonstration with the would-be thieves, no one else dared to think about stealing.

However, desperate for survival, they began offering their family members and kids as slaves.

Some families even wanted to sell their elderly grandfathers and grandmothers, but old people had little value and use so they refused.

The children on the other hand…

Due to being unable to even determine when their next meal would come, many families offered their children to the merchants as slaves.

In desperate situations, people showed their true colors.

Children in these times were little more than an extra mouth to feed and a burden. Many families reasoned to themselves in one of two ways.

One, since they can’t take care of their children, they might as well sell their child for food to feed the rest of the family. Staying in the ruined village would only ensure everyone’s slow starvation.

Two, some parents just believed that they could just have more children later, their children entirely replaceable. To them, their own survival was more important than their own flesh and blood.

In either case, the results were the same. Families sold their children for food.

Although the offered children were mostly very young children, with even some children as young as one year old, they still had more overall value than old people.

They decided to take in children that are at least 13 years old with one exception.

That exception was her.

She was considered to be unwanted even by her own family even when she was just 4 years old. They were happy to try to sell her off.

The family members didn’t explicitly say why they wanted to sell her off, just advertising that she was unique and special.

Unique as in like a rock among diamonds. Special like a cursed person among normal people.

They wanted to refuse at first, but they didn’t.

It was because when they looked closely at her, they found that she did have a strange presence that standed out amongst others, though no one was able to point out why.

They took her in because they figured she could be sold to someone with interest in this presence. After that, his father grew obsessed with her and they were never able to sell her until he died.

However, he knew why now.

He has found the truth after seeing his life flash before his eyes.

Even back then, her eyes were like how they were now; he just didn’t notice it before.

He wasn’t the special one… she was.

‘The reason why their caravan succeeded was because…’

“Huak… krgh…!

He could feel himself choking on his blood again.

He is coming back to reality: to death’s embrace.

‘It was… because… of her.’

Then he remembered something in a lost part of his memories.

“Hey… you’re hurt right? Take this. It’s medicine for injuries like scratches. I use it when dad hits me.”

It was himself 13 years ago. When he was young and still ignorant of the pleasure and power brought by success.

‘Ah, I… should have…’

He wasn’t able to finish his last thoughts before his vision went black and he died.

Dawson was not even able to name the one who killed him, since he never bothered to ask her name.

In the end, he died with regret: he shouldn’t have messed with her.

===

Seeing Dawson twitching with blood pouring out his mouth and neck, Vow took a sigh of relief.

Her first kill.

Unexpectedly, it came easier and smoother than she thought. The feeling of life leaving a body in her hands felt strangely chilling and calming.

However, there are many things she could improve upon.

She had recklessly charged her enemy. In any other scenario, she would have died. It only worked because she utilized a sneak attack

Another thing was that she had used the wrong method to kill.

Slashing the throat works for mercenaries with sharp weapons like dagger, swords, and the like because they could quickly escape any ruthless counterattack; they could back away in an open confrontation with their opponents.

The same didn’t apply to her close-up sneak attack. She had pounced her opponent and slashed their throat while on top of them.

This error could prove to be fatal if her opponent was armed or skilled in fighting.

Luckily, her opponent was only a merchant that was reliant on others for his safety. Otherwise, she would at least have been injured or even killed for this lapse in judgment.

‘I need to beware of this in the future. The goal of fighting is to maximize the harm you do to your opponent and minimize the damage you sustain.’

She walked towards Dawson’s corpse and she grabbed his keys, specifically, a certain square silver key.

Her originally stoic and hardened expression while killing Dawson lightened up a little as she held the key in front of her face.

“I need a smokescreen for my escape…”