Chapter 72: The Slaves of the Fortress

Neo’s breath caught in his throat.

Below him, spread across the wide courtyard of the fortress, were dozens upon dozens of figures, men, women, even children, all with the same slightly pointed ears poking through matted, unkempt hair. Thick iron shackles bound their wrists, connected by heavy chains that clinked with every forced, shuffling movement. Armed guards paced between them, whips and batons hanging loosely from their belts, shouting orders whenever someone’s pace slowed even slightly.

The slaves were working at massive clusters of mana crystal jutting out from the earth, hammering and chiseling away at the glowing stone with tools, their thin arms trembling with exhaustion under the weight of each swing.

’Elves... or something close enough to them. And they’re being treated like animals.’ Neo thought, his stomach twisting as he watched them.

He watched, frozen in place atop the wall, as an elderly woman stumbled under the weight of a crystal fragment she’d been ordered to carry, dropping to her knees on the hard ground. A nearby guard immediately stormed over, yanking her roughly back onto her feet by the chain binding her wrists, shouting something Neo couldn’t quite make out from this distance, though the intent was clear enough.

His hands curled into tight fists against the stone ledge.

’This is exactly the kind of place that field of bones probably had something to do with. Maybe those knights found this place and tried to do something about it.’

As the sun continued sinking lower, painting the sky in deep shades of orange and red, guards began herding the exhausted slaves back toward a long, low building near the fortress’s far wall, shoving stragglers forward with rough, impatient hands.

Neo remained perfectly still, watching the last of them disappear through a heavy iron door, which slammed shut with a hollow, echoing clang.

Faint, muffled sounds drifted up from inside, the soft, broken sobbing of a child, quickly hushed by what sounded like an adult’s quiet, comforting murmur.

Neo’s grip on the stone tightened until his knuckles turned white.

’I could probably take out a few of those guards. Maybe even most of them if I caught them by surprise.’

But the thought didn’t last long. Cold logic quickly took over.

’No. If this fortress is running this smoothly, there has to be someone powerful in charge. Someone who isn’t standing around at the front gate.’

He forced himself to think it through carefully, despite the anger still burning hot in his chest. If he charged in recklessly now, exhausted, clueless and completely unfamiliar with the fortress’s layout, he wouldn’t just fail to save anyone. He’d likely get himself captured or killed in the process, which would help absolutely no one.

’I need to know the full layout first. Find out exactly who’s really in charge here. Figure out a plan that doesn’t get me or anyone else killed.’

He shook his head slowly, forcing down the guilt already clawing at his chest.

’I can’t lose myself here. Not now. My family’s already worried sick, and if something happens to me on top of everything else...’

He thought of Evelyn’s tear-streaked face the day he’d left, of Nora’s quiet, steady presence beside him through everything. The thought of them waiting, worrying, possibly grieving, settled like a stone in his gut.

With one last, lingering glance toward the now-silent slave quarters, Neo carefully climbed back down from the wall, melting quietly into the growing shadows of the surrounding wasteland, his mind already working through every possible plan he could think of.

...

Inside the slave quarters, a middle-aged woman sat slumped against the stone wall, her once fine, pointed ears now dulled and scarred from years of harsh treatment. Around her, dozens of other slaves sat scattered across the dim, cramped room, waiting silently as two guards made their way down the narrow aisle, tossing small, stale pieces of bread to each outstretched hand.

Beside her, a small boy, no older than six or seven, shifted restlessly, his stomach growling loudly enough to draw a few tired, sympathetic glances from nearby slaves.

When the guard finally reached them, tossing a single small piece of bread into the boy’s trembling hands, the child looked up hesitantly.

"Can I... can I please have one more piece?" he asked quietly, his small voice barely above a whisper.

The guard’s expression twisted with disgust. "Another one? You little shit, you think food just grows on trees around here?"

He raised his hand, ready to strike the boy across the face, but before the blow could land, the woman shifted quickly, placing her own body firmly between the guard and the terrified child.

The guard’s scowl deepened, though after a tense moment, he simply scoffed, lowering his hand and turning away to continue distributing bread to the next row of slaves without another word.

Once he’d moved far enough away, the woman finally turned back toward the boy, gently pressing her own small piece of bread into his trembling hands.

"Here, Eat this instead."

The boy’s eyes widened. "But you’ll go hungry."

"I’ll manage, You’re still growing. You need it more than I do." she said, offering him a small, tired smile despite the deep exhaustion etched across her weathered face.

The boy hesitated only a moment longer before finally accepting the bread, tearing off a small piece and eating it slowly, savoring each bite.

After a while, he glanced back up at her, his young eyes carrying a weight far too heavy for someone his age.

"When will we be free?" he asked quietly, his voice small and uncertain.

The woman’s gaze drifted away from him, settling instead on some distant, unseen point across the dim, shadowed room. For a long moment, she said nothing at all, her expression carefully blank, hiding whatever pain and exhaustion truly lingered beneath the surface.

"Maybe soon..." she whispered, though even she didn’t sound entirely convinced by her own words.

The boy nodded slowly, curling up against her side, and within moments, exhaustion finally claimed him, his small body drifting off into an uneasy, restless sleep.

The woman remained awake a while longer, staring quietly into the surrounding darkness, listening to the soft, muffled breathing of dozens of other exhausted, broken souls scattered throughout the cramped room.

Far above, beyond the thick stone walls of the fortress, the first stars began to appear in the darkening sky, unaware of the quiet suffering taking place below.

...

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