"Slaves?" Rupert responded, eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

  .....

  The slave carriage was on the move, transporting a few dozen people—young and old, women and men. The carriage moved through densely populated forests, the deep green blades of grass occasionally illuminated by the shining sun. The tree trunks were full of life, insects crawling up and down, while this unnatural procession tore through the forest, trampling over the lives in its path, crushing them to death.

  Eventually, the carriage emerged from the forest and entered the meadows. The land was barren of trees as far as the eye could see, with rolling hills stretching across the horizon. A distant mountain range marked the farthest point, forming a dark gray line that seemed to connect the land and the heavens. Though a few trees dotted the landscape, the majority of the land was covered in knee-high green grass. The scent of earth, tinged with a faint hint of iron, lingered in the air.

  Driving through the meadows, the carriage eventually reached the mountains, which had once appeared as nothing more than a thin line on the horizon. Now, they loomed before the travelers—steep and seemingly insurmountable, with only a single road leading to the other side. The road twisted and climbed the mountain in a zigzag pattern, forming a flat path that allowed them to traverse the otherwise unscalable terrain. They followed the precarious mountain trail with the sole intent of reaching the other side.

  On the other side, the carriage continued through the forest for a long time, crossing rivers via small stone bridges. The river's pressure was high, its waters crashing against the stones and riverbanks with a deafening roar. After traveling for a while, they finally reached their destination.

  A massive, cone-shaped mountain stood alone in the middle of the forest. The land surrounding it had been stripped bare. Around the mountain, seperated by a large gap, blocks of stone houses were stacked atop each other in a circular formation with a single opening to outside. Each structure stood three stories high, likely capable of housing a thousand people. In the open space between the mountain and these dwellings, large factory-sized buildings with tall walls and sloped roofs were constructed in a similar circular pattern.

  The carriage moved through the gate leading into this enclosed mini-town, passing by the large houses before entering the mountain itself through a massive metal door that swung open to greet them.

  "Good day, brother. Nice weather we're having today, huh? Shame I'm stuck here taking notes. How many are there, and which town?"

  "Yeah, brother, the weather is nice and sunny. It was a pleasant ride. There are 37. They're from a town in the west called Helsi, oops I meant a former town."

  The guard and the carriage driver both laughed frantically, their eyes narrowing and their mouths stretching wide.

  "All right, go through and drop them at the bottom. They'll hold a speech once the last carriages arrive from the south."

  "All right."

  The carriage passed through the checkpoint, and another massive gate, covering the entire mountain entrance, creaked open. The sheer size and imposing nature of these doors made them utterly intimidating.

  Once past the second gate, they were met with an astonishing sight.

  Inside, the land near the entrance remained level, but further in, the terrain curved downward in a massive circular descent, forming tiered levels with flat surfaces at each stage. Each successive tier lay lower than the last. Words could hardly describe the immensity of this underground excavation—it was a mine, a vast subterranean labor camp.

  A single road, wide enough to fit two carriages side by side, wound its way through the descending levels, gradually spiraling down to the bottom. Along these tiers stood more block-like buildings, similar to those outside but far more numerous. Each level had been intentionally flattened to accommodate these structures, which towered five stories high and could house over ten thousand people.

  At the very bottom, the air was thick with dust and pollution, and thousands of people had gathered in the open space. Elf soldiers stood stationed on the upper tiers, overseeing the crowd.

  A man stepped forward to the edge of the gathering and spat on a soldier's uniform. Then, he shouted,

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  "You fucking monsters! You devils! I hope you burn in hell for eternity for what you ha—"

  Before he could finish, the soldier formed a fireball in his right hand and, with a swift motion, hurled it at the man. A second fireball quickly followed. The man erupted in flames, screaming in agony as he clawed at his burning body, desperately trying to put out the fire. But his efforts were futile. He collapsed to the ground with a dull thump, writhing like a dying worm before eventually going still. The guard threw another fireball, ensuring the man's remains were nothing more than a charred husk, like a dried twig beneath a tree.

  The bystanders in the crowd were speechless. Shocked, they stood frozen in place, not daring to make a single move that might provoke the guards—for none wished to suffer the same fate as the man lying scorched on the ground.

  The prisoner carriage traveled down the road leading to the bottom. Soon, it reached the base of the mining ground. A soldier used a key to unlock the metallic door of the carriage.

  "Get out!"

  Rupert's group slowly stood up one by one, exiting the carriage through the door. They merged into the crowd—thousands of people gathered here, all of them war prisoners. They were not military personnel, yet the elves treated them as such. These people were civilians who had been living their lives normally until a day ago, unaware of the danger and death that awaited them. They had only survived by hiding in basements and stone-mage-built buildings.

  Rupert realized that the thousands of people in the crowd must be civilian victims from other towns and villages. That meant the same massacre that had occurred in Helsi must have happened elsewhere as well.

  With that realization, Rupert's heart dropped, turning ice cold. Cold sweat poured from his body. He felt sick—a deep stomach pain twisting and churning inside him. He felt like throwing up.

  "Mr. Han..."

  What happened to Mr. Han? Don't tell me... there's no way, right? I don't want to know. I don't want to believe it.

  Tohe was a town made of planks and logs. Most of the buildings were constructed from wood. Adding to that, they were built above ground level, leaving a gap between the first floor and the earth, with only stone pillars and foundations made of stone. There were no basements in Tohe—nowhere to hide, nowhere to seek shelter. According to Nina, the woman who had spoken with Rupert, Helsi had been completely leveled. Every house was destroyed—only rubble and gravel remained. No walls stood straight. The elves had used mana bombs to flatten the town.

  Mr. Han had definitely been at the tavern in the evening, drinking himself to death—his usual daily routine before bed. Even if he had been alerted and knew in advance about the elves' operation, he wouldn't have been in a state of mind capable of thinking about his own survival. He wouldn't have tried to save himself, run away, or find some place—any place—to cower from the bombardment. He wouldn't have even had such thoughts. He really is dead, Mr. Han is dead.

  Even if someone had told them—the people in the tavern—to run for their lives, Mr. Han would have only taken it as a joke. A funny joke, made even funnier by the alcohol.

  And that would have led to his death.

  In Rupert's mind, there was no way Mr. Han could have survived the massacre. Mr. Han was simply not capable of surviving such a raid.

  Rupert was in shock and disbelief, but more importantly, he was shocked by his own reaction to the realization of Mr. Han's death. He never expected to feel such deep sorrow over someone else's life, death, or misery—not even Mr. Han's. He had always believed himself to be a cool and pragmatic individual, incapable of emotions or sympathy. But this was unexpected.

  Rupert felt a profound sadness for Mr. Han's death. His mind darkened and clouded. He refused to accept reality, denied the overwhelming likelihood of Mr. Han's fate—but at the same time, he couldn't lie to himself. He couldn't deceive or trick himself into ignoring the undeniable truth. His mind was conflicted, his emotions and logic clashing like water and oil, contradicting each other in an endless cycle.

  The world felt unreal. His heart and mind were heavy, like a magnet pulling him to the earth. Sounds became blurry and distant, blending into an incoherent noise. Rupert could no longer tell if he was in a dream or reality. Everything felt unreal, as if he were a ghost—something not of this world, yet trapped in the physical realm, bound to the world of matter.

  Rupert, mourned Mr. Han's death while standing in front of the carriage, after taking only a step out.

  A hand reached out to Rupert's shoulder, gripping it.

  "Hey what's going on?" Nina was concerned about Rupert, he was acting distant and unlike the time they traveled together on the road.

  He turned his head around, not wanting to explain himself, yet felt as if he didn't said anything right now, anything and to anyone, his head would explode of these emotions, these thoughts, and would sink into a place he never wanted to touch, never wanted to acknowledge.

  "Mr. Han, Mr. Han is dead" tears fell from his eyes like droops of a water dropping from ice spikes in springtime, slow and scarce.

  "Mr. Han? I see, someone close to you right? must been tough to lose them, must be sad, but you know what Rupert, Rupert look at me, you know what? I lost my entire family as well, everyone here have lost someone dear to them, so don't break down now please, stand strong and face the present, for right now we are alive right? would Mr. Han you mentioned glad to see you in this state right now? things are moving fast and if you don't keep moving you will eventually be caught by the same fate as your loved ones. so Rupert, even if you are sad, you have to live to carry on that sadness of the dead, if you don't live to mourn the dead then who will remember the dead?"

  "come on, let's go, don't make any ruckus, look at the poor guy, it seems like they won't even try to hide their devilish rules, I bet the guy didn't even touch him before he was burned like that, how awful. Rupert, let's stay alive, I don't want to die in a place like this."

  Nina put her hand on Rupert's back, gently guiding him forward and into the crowd.