Some of the former prisoners took this time with her being alone (at least physically) to approach her. Their conditions were far worse than she originally thought. Many of their faces bore deep scars from torture or abuse; some of them even looked like they had been beaten half to death before they arrived here. Her heart went out to each of these men as they approached her tentatively and asked her questions about how they might escape. She tried her best not to judge anyone based on appearances but it was hard not to feel sorry for those that had lived through such things. At the same time though, others appeared in better shape and seemed more interested in getting free for other reasons.

One man, who seemed relatively young and well-dressed, came up to her and bowed his head politely when he noticed her watching him closely. His long wavy hair was the color of a crow's wing, and underneath the deep hood and long black cloak that covered most of his features she caught glimpses of eyes that were as green as precious emeralds. She wondered if his heart was as dark as his features. He stood taller than any of the other prisoners yet still managed to look humble while standing next to Serena. He kept a respectful distance between them without appearing nervous or afraid of being too close to her.

The other individuals walked away at his approach. They didn't want anything to do with this stranger.

Serena couldn't recall anyone like him in the cells or cages, but it was also quite dark there. She could have overlooked him.

"How can I help you?"

He looked down sheepishly at her and said, "I am sorry to bother you with my troubles but they are important."

She nodded her head in understanding and waited patiently for him to continue speaking.

When he spoke again it wasn't until after he took several moments to compose himself and gather what he wanted to say into words he felt comfortable sharing, so she decided to give him some time before she interrupted.

After he had taken another deep breath he continued and told her about how he'd been captured and sold by an evil nobleman who he knew well from his past life. The man was one of his father's closest friends; however, now that their fathers were gone both men were rivals over land and power. This particular lord would not hesitate to sell off any of his servants if such a price could be found for them. It didn't matter if these people worked as guards or even as cooks or maids—he only cared about money. He didn't care that the servant in question was a good friend of his own family or that the person might have a wife or children waiting back home for them to return safely. All the same, the nobleman paid handsomely for the services rendered by those willing to work for him despite the fact they didn't want to do it anymore. He thought nothing at all of taking advantage of others like this when it suited him or made him look better in front of other nobles, but he always acted the part of being fair and just whenever it served him best.

The young man told her how he'd been captured when he left the city of Mythras by this cruel tyrant. He had been on a caravan that would bring him to the tyrant who would use him as a hostage when they were attacked by hunters from this village. The prisoners here were emergency rations for Duskwallow, but they were also the survivors of the caravan.

If she brought him back to Mythras, he promised her that she would be well rewarded.

Ravana was yawning, the sound exaggerated in her skull. Serena honestly felt the same way as this story had too many coincidences lined up to have it work out like this. How lucky that he survived and was imprisoned. How wondrous that it was his caravan that was attacked allowing him a potential chance in the future to escape. And how could these poor bastards hurt him in such a way?

Why it nearly brought a tear to her eye.

She had to admit, the man was good at improvising. Unfortunately, she could see some shapes of weapons hidden beneath his cloak, likely a shortsword and a bow with some arrows judging by the slight bulges.

The material used in his clothing, when she saw it, was good quality leather and hide that would be perfect for stealth operations. Everything was of the highest quality and there wasn't so much as a tear in the fabric or even dirt to make him seem like he survived hell.

Decent story, with poor execution. She had to give applaud the guts he had to try and pull her along with this.

"Your name?" Serena questioned.

Either this man was incredibly lucky—which Serena doubted given how many things could go wrong while traveling across the land, or she was dealing with an imposter who wanted something from her.

No matter what, it would be really interesting to see what he had planned. She was heading there regardless.

"You may call me Fion." He said proudly after taking another deep breath before continuing. "How may I address you?"

"Serena Araceli," Serena said, mentally gauging his performance. He didn't seem to know how to act like a noble-born who had been placed in this situation. Even if he was the heir of some family, there would be far more of him demanding that she must help him.

Instead, it was a far more logical and rational performance with little emotions. He didn't try to appeal to some better nature and went straight to rewards and benefits. That spoke much about this world...or perhaps he had dealings with freelancers before?

This should be entertaining at least.

"Lady Araceli, I must beg you to aid me."

"What of the caravan members? Surely you do not wish to travel with those that were hired to bring you to a rival lord? They are likely your enemies." She asked curiously as her eyes narrowed slightly upon her curiosity is piqued.

She felt no loyalty towards these people who had yet to swear allegiance to her, but she couldn't let their potential go to waste without a suitable replacement.

"I can not spend time dwelling on them. I would be more interested in how you might take things from here." Fion said, motioning to the group. "Most of them are in such terrible conditions that they will likely die a few hours after leaving the cage and cell. Some have been suffering from infections for some time and will struggle to walk. I highly doubt you can bring them all in your wagon as well." He added quietly.

His gaze lingered on the kitchen knife in her hand. "I do not think that would be enough to end their suffering."

Fion reached into his cloak and after a moment handed her a blade. It was made of steel that looked like it could cut through anything and he wore armor underneath and carried several other weapons Serena didn't know about.

He had some tricks up his sleeve if this conversation ended poorly...and she doubted that would happen at all given her position.

She accepted the shortsword when he offered it and swung it a few times to test its weight and heft of it. The blade was well maintained and sharpened perfectly, which she expected of someone who had traveled across the land. She held it by the hilt, testing the balance between both hands, before turning to the prisoners in question.

Serena began to walk toward some of those that had collapsed on the dirt road. They were too weak, though, to even attempt to stand or move much more than an inch in any direction.

One of them was the old man who had given her the keyring. He had barely left the darkness and saw the sky once more before death had taken him.

Others were in similar condition, though life still clung to them.

Serena made her way over to them and struck them down one by one with precise stabs from her new sword. Some cried out as they died but most did not cry at all. Their faces betrayed their relief and peace until their last breath escaped into nothingness.

When all those that were too weak to travel or survive more than a few days had passed on, Serena returned to the wagon. The survivors stared at her in terror as they tried to cover any wounds or signs of distress.

She smiled bitterly at them then muttered to herself, "I wonder if I can feel the sickness in their blood?"

"That would be more biological manipulation and magic than blood magic," Ravana piped up. He seemed to snap back into attention when she mercy killed those who were in too bad a condition to be presently salvaged.

There were only five survivors left who were good enough to travel, and with the lying so-called noble, the devout fanatic, here, things were going to be rather interesting.

"Which one of you knows how to drive a wagon or carriage?" Serena asked.

The five survivors looked at each other before two of them stepped forward. Both of them had seen better days, but it was easy to select one who seemed to have slightly better health. "Skully, come here boy."

The Risen Horse came forward, and head bumped when he stepped beside her.

Serena stroked his head fondly before glancing at the others who had a new reason to be terrified. "This is Skully. I raised him from the dead to be the wagon horse. Admittingly, I would have automated the process to have the wagon move magically, but I wanted to see what I could do. Test my limits so to speak."

One of the men gasped audibly as they realized that they weren't safe either. They all knew about her power now...and she hadn't even used magic yet! She couldn't imagine how many times she'd already killed today alone without using any magic whatsoever.

"I do not know anything about the prep needed to harness a horse, but I will trust that to the driver. You have my guarantee that you will have more food and resources for having a job during the trip."

That seemed to capture their attention.

"We have to work for our food?!"

"Can't you give something out of the goodness of your heart?"

On and on three of them complained, and she had the urge to silence them forever. "No."

"Why not?" Fion questioned, more curious than anything. He didn't seem worried in the least by this turn of events.

Serena sighed and suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. "I have little resources to spend on those who will not be able to carry their weight. I will need to hunt and forage daily as it is for you all. It will take months before any of you are any use to me. The least you could do would be tend a campfire, getting firewood, cooking, and mend clothing. If you have any objections, even as I offer you my limited food and water out of the goodness of my heart," she grinned mockingly at the phrase, "then feel free to try your luck elsewhere. If you are coming with me, then get on the wagon."

"Lady Serena, it's time," Lucian said as he poked his head past the curtain covering the back of the wagon. Cloth once more covered his body completely but this time it was black instead of white. "I managed to find you some shoes that might work for you as well."

Fion sighed before grabbing Skully's reins. "I know how to drive the wagon and will take over that duty."

Serena nodded, adding another note that his backstory was falling apart at the seams.

She looked at the group as Fion walked away and began to prep Skully. "It would seem we no longer need a driver."

"You are heartless."

"Perhaps," Serena mused. "I offered you aid but you demand more. Next time, I won't even bother."

"Next time, start with slaves. At least they tend to be in a better physical condition." Ravana said, disinterested in their struggles.

Serena shrugged and entered the wagon. Within a few minutes of her entering and settling down on one of the beds, there was a slight lunge forward as Skully began to walk.

No one else joined them, not even Mint.

These no-name travelers would likely die here like the rest of those who were weak to travel, but she had hope for Mint. She had thought by saving him he would put in a good word for her with his superiors, but even that was in doubt.

Slipping into a meditative pose, she began to move her energy through her body to regain the feeling of it.

Even as she fell into the pull of the energy, and noticed that was far vaster than she imagined it would be, Serena couldn't help but wonder if she should look into slaves then.