BARK! BARK!

The loud barks of the two hounds signaled their imminent arrival in front of a gate. There were six people manning its defenses, four of whom are armed with long halberds, swords affixed at their hips. They donned colorful suits which were similar to the Pontifex Swiss Guards. One of the soldiers wore a simpler uniform and in his hands held metallic chains, which was what kept the two hounds at bay. As soon as the carriage arrived at the gate, they were stopped by a soldier whose helmet hung behind the back of his neck,

Both their driver and the officer were engaged in a short discussion but they were soon permitted entry into the mansion grounds.

Past the tall polished stone gate, the large backyard of the mansion was a vast empty space of packed dirt. There were wooden sheds here and there, while small groups of soldiers walked close to the walls, but other than that, the mansion lacked much in terms of decorations.

They soon arrived at an area where seven other carriages were parked, some were covered while others were more open. Uniformity wasn't evident in their transport corps.

Isaiah examined the people coming out of the other carriages. Other than the obviously armed men, most were chained like his party. Both men and women, young and old were subjected to the same level of treatment. Their clothes lacked much covering and looked really rough, slippers or shoes weren't present on their feet and their faces had the same sullen, hopeless look. That, however, was reasonable.

Many would have wanted to run for their freedoms, but the level of security this place offered was nothing to scoff at. Tall fences trapped the people inside while soldiers, armed with blunt and ranged weapons positioned themselves here and there or are patroling the place. Hunger and thirst only added to the level of despair the slaves were feeling, even Isaiah was not immune to these feelings.

Those, however, weren't the only thing that kept many from trying to escape.

Crawling on all fours, the very picture of a hellish monster - two dobermans patrolled alongside their veiled masters, their mouths dripping with rabies-infested saliva, their constant growling, and violent barks were quick to demoralize the minds of the slaves. Even if one were to run and cross the walls and towards the safety of the forest, the very image of being chased out by these creatures would be more than enough to produce nights to last an entire year.

"Come now, out you go..." Hans boredly ordered the slaves out of the carriage.

As Isaiah left the carriage, his foot stepped into a wet surface, looking down he saw that the puddle of water was a reddish-brown mixture.

‘Blood?’ He lifted his foot and began wiping it in the drier dirt ahead. There were no shoes offered, and none would probably be offered in the future, but Isaiah wasn’t too bothered by it, he was used to walking barefoot. The main issue was the identity of his captors.

Hans then drew a line with his sword on the ground and signaled for them to line up in front. All four quietly obeyed, not that they can do anything else while the driver was called over to a small shed-like building. While waiting for further instructions, Isaiah began to look around, trying to figure out who these people were, though he was confused by the setting he found himself in.

‘They looked like medieval era Swiss or like that one German mercenary, but why would they dress up like that... Plus, they don’t have guns?’

As he continued to look around he heard some of the guards speak. They, however, spoke another language that Isaiah felt like he had heard before, but wasn’t quite sure about, sadly, unlike the language the old man and Hans spoke, he couldn’t understand them. Though as he strained his focus to listen, he began to hear some phrases that he was familiar with, phrases like 'Ja' 'Kommandant' 'Wunderbar' and in a mocking tone, 'Der Fuhrer Kilo'. Isaiah's knowledge of German may not be that extensive but he could say for sure that these people spoke the language of the Deutsch.

'So I am in Germany... But why are there no guns among the guards? Why use spears and swords? No cellphones, no bulletproof vest, not even cameras?' Isaiah looked at the edges of the walls and once again began to question the validity of what he was seeing. It just didn't make any sense to him. The old man stated he was in Dachia, whatever that is, and since many spoke German he could reasonable guess that he was somewhere in the Dutch Republic, or Germany itself but the intense lack of machinery, and machinery is Germany's forte, made him ask the same question,

'Where am I? Europe's supposed to be all modernized but why does it feel like I am in a medieval-era town or something?'

But as those thoughts came to his mind, a rather strange question appeared before him.

'Am I in a different world?' For a while, he paused. The thought itself began to gain some ground in his own mental debate. Everything would make the most sense if he went with that train of thought but there was one major issue with the idea, and that was,

'There is no way I could be Isekai'd.'

Isaiah was very familiar with the concept itself, especially with the rise of the genre's popularity. He himself had read many of such books but he had always thought of those as simply entertainment, just a form of escapism. Fantasy in other words.

'Yet this is way too true to be real... Or is it?'

He had heard somewhere that the mind would tend to seek the answer one wanted to hear and not what was true. People would subconsciously choose the more harmful choice if it meant emotionally protecting them from reality. If that is what he was feeling now, then Isaiah could chalk it up as his mind clouding his judgment to the answer his subconscious self wanted to hear.

‘And I definitely want to be placed in another world now didn’t I?’ He shook the thoughts from his head, it was absurd to think of fantasy becoming true, especially since this could all be just one elaborate prank. There may even be cameras here and there videotaping his very actions now and everyone else around him were just paid actors. Really now, the shame he would receive if videos of him acting like an overpowered edgelord because he thought of himself as the main character of a novel got circulated to the public. The mere thought of that happening frightened him more than the day he was lining up with his cousin for circumcision.

But as he once more began to look around, however, the thought of being Isekaid never left his mind. If this was one elaborate prank, there was no way in hell this was legal, especially in this day's political climate. Of all the reasons he could come up with, only the Isekai one made the most sense apart from the dreaded thought of him being sold to slavery.

But as Isaiah was trying to think things through, Hans opened his mouth,

‘Move along...’

They were soon led towards the cellar entrance of an underground hallway where a long line of prisoners was formed. As Isaiah descended the dimly lit hallway, the smell of decay took hold of his nose while smoke from somewhere forced many to cough constantly. As he stood in his place at the line, he heard a chill-inducing screech coming from deep into the room.

"Aaaaaaaaah!"

His skin jumped, he felt his heart skip a beat. His eyes turned wide and he tried to look ahead. Other slaves had the same reaction as he did and whispers began to echo in the hallway, but everything turned silent when another scream erupted from the hallway. Many of the slaves were disconcerted, but there was little they could do as the guards kept a vigilant watch on any who dared walk out of line.

"Whats... What's going on?" Unable to keep his curiosity, Isaiah asked no one in particular. Hans who stood nearby flashed a very ugly grin...

"Something wrong kiddo?"

"It... Yes sir, why?"

"Haha, simple... You'll soon know." He smugly grinned when he jerked his chin forwards, "Look at that... Special treatment eh?"

Just in front, the driver soon returned with two muscular guys just behind. Hans pointed towards Isaiah and the two guys descended on him, holding him in the arms and legs. Being that Isaiah was more of a book person than a sports one, he lacked the strength to even remotely budge these two burly dudes.

"Let me off..." Isaiah flailed as much as he could but was soon silenced when a gag was placed on his mouth. "Mfffff!"

He was then carried off towards the front of the line. The distant screams became louder and louder, and soon Isaiah caught a whiff of something burning...

"This guy..." The driver went in front of a desk, "It's the special good the boss told me to pick up..."

"Hmm, ah, Olfo the Orc, no wonder why you were missing here... Ahaha, Ja, ja..." The clerk picked up his quill and wrote something on his paper before gesturing for them to proceed.

It was here, as they entered the room that Isaiah lost all his strenght and his eyes grew wide.

'Branding...'

A tear fell from his eyes and he flailed even harder, but none of his efforts could avoid him from what was about to happen.

The room was dark, lit only by a burning furnace. Three people stood inside, one of whom was heating a metal probe in the furnace. The two large men propped him down on his knees and tied his chains to two poles at his side. They then removed the fur coat, revealing his chest.

Soon, one of the men grabbed his hair and held his head up while another took the superheated probe away from the oven.

"Wait... What his magic again?" Another asked prompting the man with the probe to pause, "This might not be good,"

"Don't worry..." Olfo took out his paper, "Lightning it says here."

"Right..." The soldier had a concerned look as he turned to the other soldier who shook his head, "I see..." He then nodded to the one with the probe to proceed.

'What have I done wrong?' Isaiah asked himself as he pulled his arms as hard as he could, but all he was doing was tearing on his skin with how tight the chains were on his shoulders.

'What is this!? This is illegal, there is no way this is real... Where is the camera, where are the people... What the... What's going on?' Tears began to fall in his eyes at an even bigger volume but despite all that, the probe got closer and closer. Soon, his chest could feel the heat from the metal rod and he began to shake. He looked at the man holding the rod in an effort to dissuade him, and then...

Psssssssh!

"MFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF!"

The rod was pressed on his skin, while someone held him from behind to ensure that the process does not stop...

"MFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF!"

He cried. The pain on his chest, the burning sensation, it was too much for him to bear... Soon, his body went numb from the pain and the rod was removed. As he fell, the chains holding him from behind, he could see the bits and pieces of his burned flesh on his skin, on his chest was an ominous mark of a scorpion, a mark that was still sizzling.

'What...'

He was breathing raggedly, trying to calm himself.

'Why?'

He simply didn't understand what was happening. But just as he was looking around, he found no camera, no crew, no people cheering or something. All he saw were the unconcerned faces of people, preparing the rod for the next victim.

This was all real.

This was not fake.

What he was seeing, what he was feeling.

This was not a dream, not a thought...

Nor was this a prank.

'Isekai...'

Everything began to make sense now. It all began to make sense.

In his mind, all his answers, all his questions.

Indeed, he remembered what happened before he was here.

Wasn’t he aboard an airplane on his way home?

Didn’t that airplane crash into the ocean?

In the middle of the pacific, rescue services would take days before they would be able to mount a search. By that point they would be all dead, the plane has sunk to the bottom of the ocean, the passengers had no hope of rescue.

There was only one conclusion to all that.

He died. But his spirit was transported somewhere else...

In other words Isekai.

'To think it's real...'

He looked up and saw the eyes of the people. Instead of confusion and pain, all he could feel was anger...

'If this is real...' He suddenly started to feel heavy. He knew that his body was tired, very tired...

'Revenge...' He thought... 'I would escape.'

And then his body fell limp,