《War Slaves - [Writathon Participant]》Chapter 1
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The putrid smell of meat; blood; and shit woke me up, making my stomach convulse, and forcing me to sit up to vomit all over me. As I dirtied myself with what was left from last night's dinner, I noticed a couple of things that didn’t make sense. First I was naked and sat on a floor full of blood, a strange black goo that looked like oil, and human waste. The second was that there was a copper disc attached inside the middle of my chest.
As soon as touched it, words made of golden flames appeared inside my mind. Their meaning became immediately clear to me like I was reading something in front of me.
Mana Core.
Rank: Bronze.
Mana Output: 100/100.
Mana Shield: 100%
Rune Slot: 0/1.
Core Effect: Decrease fatigue while fighting by 10%
“What the fuck?”
A scream took my attention and made me turn to the left, where a woman was crawling back, getting away from dead human bodies on the floor, only to hit one with her back and scream again. Ignoring her, I went to the body of a man in front of me and turned it. He was cold and pale; and his eyes had melted, leaving two hollow eye sockets full of blood and the black goo, which was also coming out from all holes in his body.
A quick glance was enough to see everything I needed. We were inside a small room made of stone, devoid of windows. The only illumination came from torches on the wall, and the only way in and out was a double door made of metal that looked thick and heavy.
Aside from me and the woman, who was trembling on a corner of the room, only two others seemed to have survived whatever happened inside the room: A black man that looked like a bodybuilder and a slim man covered in tattoos who was staring at us like we were his enemies.
“What the fuck happened here?” He shouted.
“Maybe this is a game?” The black man said, which made some sense. Gaming while sleeping had become possible, but I was sure I wasn’t playing anything, and Vanessa, my wife, wouldn't put me inside a game without telling me. If this was also part of a game, it went against all the rules of safe mental health established a few years ago when games become too realistic.
“Your bet is as good as any other.,” I answered, only to get him to stare at the scars on the left and right sides of my mouth.
“Hey joker face, open the fucking door.” The tattooed man demanded, pointing a finger at me.
“You are not my boss, and the name is Aron.”
His face became red as he went toward me. Tilting his head to the right side, putting a hand on his ear. “What did you say? I think I didn’t understand.”
I punched his face.
A cracking sound came from his nose. He held it, filling his hand with blood. “You are a dead man! You are fuckin dea-”
The door started to be opened from the other side, making a loud and agonising sound as it scratched the stone floor. A man clad in mediaeval armour entered the room, holding a cloth against his mouth. His appearance made an odd contrast against the death and gore around us, for his long blond hair shined like there was gold mixed with it, and his armour was white and perfectly polished.
He stared at us. “Only four this time? What a pity.”
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“Hey, asshole!” The tattooed man shouted at him, completely ignoring the fact the knight was armed, while he was naked. “Where the fuck we are?”
“What did you call me?”
“Asshole, fucking moron.”
“Get down and lick the floor until I tell you to stop.”
Surprisingly enough, the tattooed man obeyed him without any kind of complaint. My stomach went cold as I stared at him, licking the blood, goo, and human waste like an obedient puppy.
“Let us make something clear here. You are all bound to us by a slave spell, so I advise you all to behave or…” He pointed at the tattooed man. “I can, and will do even worse.”
The rational part of me didn’t want to believe he was liking the floor because of a spell, which only existed in fairy tales and games. But I didn’t manage to come up with any other explanation that forced a man to lick something so disgusting like this would be the last thing he would do.
I raised my right hand, to get his attention in a polite way, which I hoped wouldn't get me punished. “Why are we here?”
“Because we are losing a war and manpower is a scarce resource.” He said with a devilish smile. “All we ask of you is to fight for us, as fellow humans.”
I clenched my fists, and then breathed slowly, to avoid getting any unnecessary attention. “Will we be sent back after the war is over?”
“Of course not, we have so many uses for you all. But enough with that, you need to understand the basics to be of any use.” He pointed to a silver disc that came out from his armour, in the middle of his chest. “Those are [Mana Cores], and they let you use the mana around you to cast spells. You will soon receive a sword; with a [Spell Rune] that allows you to cast a spell by using your willpower” He stared at the tattooed man. “It’s very easy actually, even an idiot like him would be able to do it.”
“Sir, uh… Will we receive some form of training… I don’t want to die.” The black man stuttered.
“Nothing beats a real experience!” He clapped his hands and a group of people dressed in simple dark purple robes, with a plain black mask that covered their faces entered the room. Most carried buckets of water, aside from four of them, carrying wooden boxes.
And without further notice, they threw the water at us. It was so cold it made my skin shiver like I had jumped inside a lake in the winter. Despite the humiliation, at least it washed away most of the dirty.
“That’s better.” The knight said. “Inside the box, you will find some cloth, a sword, and a shield. After you finish dressing up, follow the corridor behind straight to the courtyard, where another knight will be waiting with further instructions.“I will be taking my leave.”
Without giving the tattooed man an order to stop liking the floor, the knight left the room accompanied by the masked people. When they were gone, the black man tried to stop him from liking the floor, but he always returned to his ordered duty, which proves that the spell that bonded our wills to them was both strong and dangerous.
Now that the immediate shock had passed, I felt my heart heavy when I realised that I would never be able to see my wife again, and would never see our son be born in the world. A tear fell from my eyes as I tried to picture his smile, and more followed when I imagined how she would feel with my sudden and inexplicable disappearance.
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The images left a hollow in my heart, yet I still felt relieved that she wasn't here with me, but was safe at our house. The sock from the situation could have been bad for her and the baby's health, and the last thing I wanted was for them to be slaves of others, or to die a dog’s death in a war that had nothing to do with them.
“Hey man.” The black man said, looking at my scars. He was still stuttering, so I guess this is how he was “How are you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t tell me, I think she went crazy.” He said, pointing toward the woman who was still crawling at one corner, holding her head and moving her body to the front and to the back while muttering something. To be fair, I wouldn’t blame her for going crazy.
“I think it's the two of us now, I’m Aron,” I said, offering him my hand.
“Michael.” He said, holding my handshake with a strong grip. “We better do what they ordered us to do, or who knows what will happen.”
“Yeah.”
We opened our boxes, revealing the simple content: One brown leather pants; a pair of brown leather boots; one white shirt made of wool; a short sword with a sheath tied to a black belt; and a round shield. As soon as I unsheathed the sword, and looked at it, a new message popped up inside my mind.
Short Iron Sword of Faster Strikes.
Durability: 100%
Rune Slot: 1/1.
Effect: Increase the speed of your attacks by 10%.
I felt something on the other side of the sword hilt against the palm of my hand, so I turned it. There was a small hole on it, with a black gemstone whose inside shined with complicated patterns. Focusing my attention on the gemstone brought up a new message.
Rune: Beholder of Weakness.
Tier: 1.
Type: Summon.
Mana Cost: 40 reserved mana per summon.
Effect: Summon one Beholder to follow you. The Beholder will decrease the strength of a single target it has its gaze on by 10%.
That was an interesting spell. Making a person weaker was always good, especially when the weapons seemed to increase our natural capabilities by a certain percentage. I could also probably use the Beholder to draw my enemies' attention.
Unfortunately, the clothes didn’t trigger any message, which probably meant they didn’t give me any effect, and couldn’t hold a rune. The shield on the other hand had an interesting effect.
Shield of Range Disability.
Durability: 100%.
Rune Slot: 0/1.
Effect: Has a 5% chance of making the user ignore all the damage from a ranged attack.
All I could imagine was an arrow hitting me and doing nothing like it was made of foam. Despite the low chance of it happening, having something that could save me from a ranged attack would always be welcomed. Many people died in a war due to an attack they never saw.
“I’m ready.”
“Me too.” He said, then he turned to the woman. “What should we do with her?”
Looking at her made me think about my wife. I would hate if someone left Vanessa alone in that state, so I went to her and offered her my hand. “Hey, are you ok?”
She hit my hand and kept moving her body.
I got down and looked her in the eyes, which made her turn her gaze to avoid looking at me. “You have to snap out of it if you want to survive.”
“Leave me alone.”
“I can’t.”
“Leave me alone!” She screamed. “This is just a nightmare, and I will wake up.”
“Ok, sorry,” I said before hitting her on the chin. She fainted, falling to the ground.
“What the fuck man!” Michael shouted.
“I’m just saving her life,” I told him while I got her box and took the cloth from inside it. “She just passed out.”
He stared at me for a while, then shook his head. “Better than that I guess.” he pointed to the tattooed man. “Let’s move, I’m sick of this place.”
We dressed her, and left the room with her on my shoulder, entering a long and dark corridor. The place looked like some sort of prison, with cells on both sides, each with a pair of beds and a place to make necessities. By the smell of it, they had been used recently.
There was another double door at the end of the corridor, but this time it was opened and we could see daylight coming from the other side of it. We left the corridor arriving in an open space that made me gasp. The building we came off was surrounded by a thick wall full of sentries and giant ballistae aimed at the inner part of the wall.
The space we were in was big and covered by grass. In the middle of it was a structure with a tall statue of four barbarians clashing in deadly combat. What was most impressive about it was that inside the supporting structure, there were shards of glass floating and changing its shape each second.
People dressed just like us were entering and leaving the mirror like it was some sort of magic portal.
A new knight stopped in front of me, blocking my view. He was younger than the last, with a very well-cared moustache and beard. He held my chin, inspected my face, even passed a finger over my scars. “What ugly merchandise.” He said, with a breath that smelled of roses. Then turned his attention to the woman over my shoulder. “What happened with her?”
“She fainted.”
He slapped my face without any force behind it like he was simply mocking me. “Bad for you I guess. My name is Cain and I have the displeasure to lecture you all on your duties.” He pointed to the statue. “That’s a Memoir, you don’t need to know the details, just that it's a world on its own. Your task, for now, is to enter it every day and bring back resources.”
“What resources?” Michael asked him.
“Weapons; runes; or anything you think there is value.” He clapped his hand. “You will be getting crows based on what you bring, to purchase better weapons; armour; runes; and many other things.” He then turned his attention to a couple of wooden tables on the right side of the statue. “We provide breakfast and simple clothing, but everything else you have to get inside the Memoir. And the corridor you came from is your living quarters.”
I didn't even know what to think about that. They were making us risk our lives and basically reselling us what we got. But at the same time, we were slaves, and they could have simply made us work to the death. In the end, we were like paid slaves, which didn’t make much sense.
There had to be a catch on it.
"If you don't have any questions. I have people of higher importance to meet."
"I think I'm good," Michael said.
I was about to question him on something else when the woman hit my neck with her elbow. We both fell on the ground, with her falling above me, making the people around us laugh.
She got off from my back, and we got up almost at the same time, facing each other. She took the sword from her belt and pointed it at me, with a defiant look. "What have you done to me?"
"Saved your life," I answered her, putting a hand on the back of my neck.
"You punched me!" She stared at her body, covered by cloth, then her eyes went red and she attacked me. I ducked to the side, held her hand and disarmed her. She took a step back; shaking; with her eyes fixed on the stolen weapon.
I held her sword at my back. “I was only helping you, they would probably kill you if you refused to come.”
“He is right, we would,” Cain said, looking at us with the smile of a child watching something amusing. There was a glee in his eyes that made me hate him.
I offered her the sword. “Take it back, I have no ill intentions.”
Her eyes went from the sword to my face, over and over, until she took it from me as quickly as she could. She then turned her attention to the Cain, like he would strike her down at any second.
“What a lame ending for -” he started to say, but a scream got everyone's attention.
A man holding what was left from his left arm came out from the portal. His nose had also been severed, giving the impression that an animal took a bite from it. He barely left the portal, then fell on the ground, agonising.
An old man went toward him and with a single strike from his axe, killed him. The old man spat on the floor, stared at the portal and said the last thing I expected to hear.
"Fucking Cannibals."
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8 196Re:Answer
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