Chapter 262: King of the Slavery
Chapter 262: King of the Slavery
Adam looked around the strange, new place where he doubted any player had ever been before.
The place around him was a forest.
It was dark and eerily silent, except for the occasional rustling of leaves in the wind caused by the cold air of the night.
At that moment, he noticed that mist had come from the mountains of the distance, slowly creeping towards him, shrouding everything in its path in a thick blanket of fog.
He then heard a strange sound.
A rhythmic creak of wooden wheels turning, crunching softly over the packed dirt road, punctuated by the occasional clatter of loose stones being kicked aside.
Behind the trees, an eerie lantern flickered in the darkness, moving by like a will-o'-the- wisp.
Adam headed straight to the light, when past some of the trees, and soon found himself on a one-way dirt road that had plenty of loose stones scattered across it.
When he turned his head to the right, he saw a wagon wheeling away in the distance, the horses kicking dust and stones into the air.
At the rider's seat, a black-cloaked individual with a wide-brimmed hat with a feather in it was holding reins in one hand and a silver sword in the other.
'Maybe I should ask him for a ride. Maybe I can find out what the hell this place...'
However, he then noticed a sight that made him drop all his thoughts.
The flap of the wagon opened because of a gust of wind, and Adam saw inside.
There was a cage with ragged-clothed people inside, their limbs chained together, and all looked like they had given up on life.
'Slaves? That is a slave wagon?' Adam thought it was shocking.
Usually, it was players who participated in the slavery, and while it was frowned upon, it was still common practice among players as it made them a lot of money.
However, in this place, there wasn't supposed to be any players.
It meant the fellow Originals were slaving their own people.
It was honestly something Adam hadn't seen before, as Originals were oppressed race, not oppressors.
The beautiful wings sprouted from Adam's back, and he took flight. He wanted to see where the wagon was going, which could help him to understand what the hell was going on.
...
Inside the wagon, the chained people stayed silent and groaned in pain every time the wheels of the wagon hit a bump in the road.
"It hurts..." A boy, about fifteen years old, said quietly.
His mother looked at him with a painful look, but there was nothing she could do.
They were heading straight to the chopping block, where their future would be decided.
Those who weren't deemed worthy would be killed off-the men would be sent to the mine of Magick Energy, and women would be sent to the crimson castle of their ruler to be his servants for the rest of eternity.
"Silence your boy!" An angry-sounding man shouted.
The boy flinched.
"Don't talk to him that way!" The mother shouted back. "It's not his fault that we're in here. It's yours, isn't it?!"
"What do you say?" The angry-sounding man pulled the chains as he looked at her. "You all agreed. All of you!"
Everyone turned their gazes away, not wanting to participate in the worthless argument, but both were right. It was the man's idea of going to the fields of moon food, and everyone agreed.
"What else should have we done?" The angry-sounding man asked. "We were going to starve otherwise. That fucker ruler of ours stole all of our food and left behind nothing but dust and ashes!"
"Calm down." The old man said with a cough. "The fields of the moon food would've had enough food to feed us for the next couple of years. It was a risky bet, and it didn't pay off. Now, we're going to be living as slaves."
The angry-sounding man looked at the old man and sighed heavily.
No one spoke it aloud, but they all knew that the old man's life was coming to an end. There was no way the slavers would find the old man useful, so they would likely leave him behind to die.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om
The wagon steered away from the dirt road and went slightly offroad that had barely a road, but just two wheel marks in the grass.
It headed up a small hill, and then rolled through an open gate as the wagon arrived at the slaver camp.
The pitched-roofed tents were built around the camp, which was surrounded by a tall wooden fence. In the center of the camp, there was a large bonfire crackling and throwing off sparks
into the night sky.
Near the tents, dozens of cages were lined up, chained people inside all of them, and all of them were freezing, their exposed skins turning red, and they were huddled together for
warmth.
Laughter came from the tents, and the smell of roasting meat filled the air.
From the head tent, a large figure emerged, wearing a crown of thorns and a cruel smile on his face. The figure looked like he would be able to lift a boulder.
"So, what do we have here?" Fakhir approached the wagon and hugged the wide-brimmed rider, who had been traveling for days on end.
"New slaves." The rider said. "They were discovered in the fields of the moon food, trying to steal some food."
"Haha, thieves." Fakhir opened the flap open and looked inside at the group of frightened individuals huddled together.
He was looking for something in particular, but soon a look of disappointment flashed across
his face.
"They all look malnourished." Fakhir said with a disappointed sigh.
"Yeah, they seem to be from Sevenfold." The rider said.
"Ah, that explains." Fakhir grinned. "Our new ruler took all their food, and they were forced
to steal. Oh well, I am sure they will do well enough in the mines!"
None of the chained people dared to look him straight in the eye, as they all knew who he was
after seeing the crown of thorns.
Fakhir, the King of the Slavery.
After their new ruler emerged and took control of Sevenfold, there were some Originals that fought back, trying to overthrow him, but they were quickly defeated.
In the end, four Originals emerged, who were already infamous criminals, and made a deal with the ruler—a deal that was very profitable for both sides-and thus, four more rulers
emerged.
King of the Slavery. Queen of Pleasure. King of the Bloodshed. Queen of Gambling.
High in the air, Adam looked down at the slavers camp, a cold wind tousling his hair.
'There must be hundreds of them.'
Adam crossed his arms, and he had used his Kiryoku but couldn't find a single player there. It was only Originals there, and all of their strength was only at human levels.
However, the man wearing the crown of thorns was different.
He seemed strangely powerful for Original, but still within the limits of humanity, and Adam had already transcended that.
'I don't consider myself to have the hero complex that I have to save everyone, but this seems easy enough to do so. I also need answers from them to know what the hell is going on here.'