It was then that Eight understood. The new captain, the lack of patrols, the eerie quietness; it was all part of a grand plot, one that encompassed the entire border or even the entire country.

Eight’s breath caught in his throat, but his lips widened, stretching into a manic grin. If the proceeding events happened like he thought they would, then chaos would surely ensue. And with chaos comes opportunity, risks, and a chance to escape.

As if it were smelling his exhilaration, a rat-like beast broke away from the stampede, wandering near the tree where Eight was hiding. He composed himself, his breathing and heart once again slowing to a near stand-still. The rat lifted its nose, wanting to catch a trace of his location, but it was bound to be disappointed. A minute later, it wandered off, incapable of distinguishing the cause of its distraction.

Eight continued to lay beneath the tree. It was only after an hour that the last of the injured and stragglers left his sight. He exhaled a sigh of relief; even he couldn’t help but tense up in such a situation.

Crawling out of the hideout, he pondered his next course of action. If his conjecture was even somewhat accurate, he would have to be careful to preserve his life. The universe was like that; he could be killed by some powerful attack and not even know what hit him.

Unexpected deaths like these were merely a dime in a dozen, geniuses many times more talented than him died every day. Eight knew this, and he knew he could die at any moment regardless of his actions.

He smiled and began his journey towards the quarry. He had chosen to return to the group for two reasons: firstly, it would be difficult for him to survive alone. There also was the possibility of him being killed in the aftermath…

The path was smooth, Eight encountered no tribulations in the few hours it took him to arrive at the quarry. Seeing the scene ahead of him, he chuckled lightly, pleased his conjecture was correct.

The quarry, while always having an element of chaos, was in ruins. The stone walls were cracked and scorched, boulders large and small sporadically scattered within the general area. There even was one next to Eight, despite him standing thirty feet away from the checkpoint.

It was obvious a great battle happened recently. Eight crouched and snuck closer to the guardhouse while completely erasing his presence. There were no guards on the outside, allowing him to arrive at the wooden building undetected.

Surprisingly, he stood up before running away from the guardhouse, making sure to enhance his presence. He heard a surprised shout from behind him and soon felt a heavy round attack collide with his back, propelling him forward and onto the ground. Eight’s spine cracked like glass; he couldn’t help but cough.

Eight turned his head after falling. A guard encased in silver armor was responsible for the attack, his arm still outstretched and pointed towards Eight. Two other guards exited the checkpoint before walking up to him.

The duo wore a standard set of chainmail, loosely fitting their hulking figures. Bland shortswords in leather sheaths were strapped to their waists. They lacked any form of headgear, unlike the silver armored guard whose head was fully encased in an ornamental helm.

Eight guessed the silver armored guard was the new captain, given his authoritative disposition and decorative armor. The giant sword along his back only served to deepen Eight’s impression of the tall figure.

“So you finally decided to reveal yourself, number eight. We’ve searched all over for you. I was afraid you were trampled in the stampede, left without an intact corpse,” the captain laughed. Eight couldn’t see his expression, but his tone certainly contradicted his words.

“I’m honored,” Eight replied, choosing to remain impassive. The injury to his spine hurt, but that was the least of his worries at the moment. He had taken a risk by revealing himself, and it was turning out negatively from the looks of it. There was no reason for them to spend time searching for him, a common, albeit strong, slave.

A risk was a risk because it could harm him. Not everything went well or according to plan. Eight, however, didn’t have any regrets, he had chosen this route because he was confident in his abilities and believed that his choice was the best path for his situation.

By leaving the forest and returning to the camp after the conclusion of the battle was settled, Eight would join the victor's side. Although he would still be a slave, it was a preferable alternative to attempting to survive alone. Between hard labor or a high chance of death, the choice was obvious.

Where there was life, there was hope. Eight firmly believed this expression. Living as a slave was preferable to dying, regardless of the conditions he was forced through.

The pair of guards flanked him, grabbing his arms. He didn’t put up any resistance and allowed them to drag him into the checkpoint. The wooden building was damaged, albeit not as badly as the quarry.

Eight passed through the door and was followed by the captain. It was too late to escape now, not that he had any intentions of doing so. The pair of guards at his sides heaved him to the floor, causing Eight to fall on his hands and knees. He looked up, only to find an expressionless man staring down at him.

Pointed ears, silver hair, and matching silver irises, the man was a moon elf, one of the three major elf factions in the universe. Eight broke out in a cold sweat, his hands clenching the dirt ground.

“So this is the battery you mentioned?” the elf questioned, his voice spilling out of his thin lips like water, deep and fluid.

“That’s correct, sir. From the reports I’ve received, his soul is quite powerful. Although I’m unaware as to the extent, it should easily have the mana of a hundred men,” the silver-armored guard answered from behind Eight.

The moon elf nodded his head, his eyes remaining on Eight.

“His soul certainly is special, one of the strongest I’ve ever seen for his age,” the elf remarked, his eyebrows slightly raised.

Eight said nothing, but his mind was whirring like a thunderstorm, ideas of how to escape flashing by one after another. They wanted a battery, not a slave. He had chosen the path of near-certain death.

All life had a soul; a second body of the purest mana that resides within the physical coil, not unlike a water-filled balloon.

To be a battery meant one's very soul would be drained, its mana used as fuel for some unholy contraption. Eight didn’t fear death, but he didn’t have a death wish either. Dying young and painfully, who would want that?

He took a deep breath yet didn’t do anything, opting to wait. The moon elf was extraordinarily powerful, his aura overwhelming the room. Eight didn’t believe he stood a chance of escaping under such a figure’s watchful gaze. He could only double down, pinning his hopes on his final hope.

“Well then, cuff him and bring him in. Now that we have control over Fort Nihl, it’s time to go before some righteous bastards interfere,” the elf sneered, not bothering to hide his disdain. Eight absorbed every word he said, confirming the recent events that had taken place.

The moon elf belonged to some faction that wished to possess Fort Nihl. Their plan was simple; they took was to change the captain of the quarry, effectively giving them a base of operations. They then waited until it rained, allowing their movement regarding the creation of the stampede to be hidden.

The rest was history. With such a quantity of rampaging beasts, the fort never stood a chance.

After saying his piece, the moon elf left the room. The captain followed him, yelling at the guards to imprison Eight.

Two days later

Eight lay on the prison’s cool, dirt ground. His posture was uncomfortable; his hands were tied behind his back, unable to move. Despite this, his chest rose and fell peacefully, sleeping without a care in the world.

A ray of sunlight shone through the cell’s iron bars, highlighting Eight’s hollow cheeks and waking him. He hadn’t been fed since he was “caught” as the state of the body had no effect on the soul. Since he didn’t need to work, why waste food on him?

Such was business. He didn’t harbor any thoughts of vengeance against the moon elf, it was simply the way of the world. It was a sin to be weak, and Eight was well aware of that.

He grimaced, his hand clenching at his heart. The feeling in his chest had evolved into a crushing pain. Eight sat up and walked to the bars, grasping them in his hands.

“Anyone there?” he called out to the forest in front of him. “I might be dying.”

Only then did he receive a response. A guard walked into Eight’s field of vision before stopping in front of the cell. An arrogant sneer was plastered across his rugged face.

“You’re going soon, get out,” he said, blatantly ignoring Eight’s unenthusiastic statement.

Clutching his chest, Eight shambled to the cell’s entrance as the guard unlocked the door. He leaned on it, slowly pushing the door open, and exited. The guard gestured for Eight to follow him and he did.

Over the past couple of days, the forest had recovered its former livelihood, no longer possessing the stillness that engulfed it after the stampede. Birds chirped along an untrodden path as Eight and the guard walked along it.

Eight hadn’t attempted to escape; he hadn’t had any chances due to the strict supervision. Looking around, there was nothing besides wilderness all around him.

“Don’t look around, keep your head down. I’m sure you know escape is impossible,” the guard berated from behind Eight.

Nearly ten minutes later, the dense forest opened up into a small glade. Seeing the ship in its center, Eight was quite impressed. The vessel, while not very large, could still fit a hundred people. Its body was painted black, and appeared to be designed for the sole purpose of speed; like a fish laying on its side, the ship was slim and elegant.

Eight could see the moon elf and the captain discussing at the top of the deck; he couldn’t hear what they were saying, though, as the distance was still too far away.

“Keep walking,” the guard behind him commanded and Eight nodded in response. He crossed the glade, his bare feet turning cold due to the morning dew. A light chill ran through Eight’s body as he neared the ship.

Like the door to a freezer, a mechanical hatch opened, releasing a pale mist. Eight entered the yawning darkness and soon the ship lifted off the ground, the runes along its lone mast glowing brightly, before flying into the boundless sky.

One Week Later

“Get up!” a guard shouted at the huddled group of prisoners. Sitting inconspicuously in the mass of dirty bodies was Eight, his lips chapped and eyes dark from a lack of sleep. However, a sharp gleam shone deeply in them. His chance was approaching, inching closer and closer as the pain in his chest grew in intensity.

Seeing that all the prisoners were awake, the guard pulled out a large key and unlocked the heavy, iron door. He then moved to the side, allowing the prisoners to funnel into the warehouse’s hallway and the exit, going outside.

The ragtag group couldn’t help but squint, the starlight so bright it momentarily blinded them. Eight was the first to adjust to the sudden change and couldn’t help but whistle at the sight in front of him.

Like pillars holding up the sky, tens of colossal trees formed a grand ring that spanned a gardenesque field. The long period of transportation led to Eight losing track of his exact location, but seeing the violet sky and bright stars, he knew he was in moon elf territory.

A shiver ran through him, his lips curling into an unnoticeable grin. In front of him stood a grand contraption, glowing cables, tubes, and other lines crisscrossed in disharmony, feeding into a large black ring.

At a glance, Eight knew it was a portal.

One by one, guards locked heavy manacles around every prisoner’s wrists, Eight’s included. A spell of weakness fell upon the group, causing them to stumble and fall. Eight laughed as he collapsed, a knife-like pain erupting from within him as he felt his very existence being siphoned through the tubing.

Other slaves lay helplessly as the portal began to glow, a violet light traveling from every one of them and around the ring before condensing within its center.

The violet light of souls.

Beads of sweat rolled down Eight’s forehead before dripping onto the lush grass below him. The pain threatened to overwhelm him; his chest ached like he was being crushed by a thousand feet of water. However, compared to the agony of his soul being ripped out of him, it was insignificant.

Faint memories flashed through his mind. A spotless, white room, a cold, metal table, and a woman wearing a white robe. His consciousness was fading, threatened into an eternal sleep by the pain.

“Is this how I die?” he murmured internally, unable to speak. Living the last twelve years as a slave, unfit to enjoy life, surviving day by day. Although he had no regrets, he hadn’t expected it would take so long for it to form...

Just as he was about to lose consciousness, Eight felt the pain lessen greatly. Like a divine wave, relief washed over him, strengthening and energizing his very existence, raising it to a level he had only dreamed of. The pain in his chest had disappeared, replaced by a crystalline, purple sphere.

Eight obtained his mana core.

The world seemed to shift, colors skewing through a prism of purple, adding layers of clarity to Eight’s surroundings. His heart beat rapidly, pulsating and adapting to the changes his body experienced.

Mana flowed through him like the most potent of steroids, enhancing his physique to otherworldly levels. Muscles of stone and mind of lightning, the evolution one would obtain when they obtain their mana core was no small change.

Yet Eight hadn’t noticed his evolution. He hadn’t noticed the changes his eyes experienced, the strengthening of his body, nor how fast his brain had begun to think.

No, his attention was focused on something entirely different. A white panel hovered in front of Eight, visible only to him. A panel that displayed a single line of black text. A line that signaled the birth of a villain, a fiend that, in time, would come to terrorize the universe itself.

{Primordial-Grade Mana Core obtained --- Unique Ability: Soul Transfer}