Chapter 3 - The Visit

Chapter 3 - The Visit

The scrape of leather on stone echoed through the dining hall as the humans slid into three lines in the center, each wearing the same hollow expression, as if they knew their death was imminent. Even Rolozuthen showed no sign of her usual cheery attitude as she slid into a line.

“Proceed to the sanctum!” Ascal Sanev Zylnan ordered, noticing that the majority of the slaves had gotten into line.

Eleven of the twelve Elves in the doorway stepped aside, allowing the lines of slaves to pass through with ease. Yet as the number of slaves within the dining hall dwindled, something became apparent to the Chief Inspector. There was a single human left sitting, chewing carefully as human after human passed him by. A human whom he had been lenient to only a few hours prior. 

Without hesitation, Ascal Sanev Zylnan approached the slave, cutting through the lines of slaves as if they were ghosts. Despite his previous kindness, his expression only portrayed anger.

“Ralogolar, explain yourself,” Ascal Sanev Zylnan stated, letting his whip unravel and fall to the floor.

Ralogolar swallowed, having cleared his plate of any traces of food, there was no longer any reason for him to worry. He stood from his chair and cleared his throat before bowing to the Chief Inspector.

“Master, I stayed behind to finish my meal. I was unconscious for most of dinner,” Ralogolar said softly, not wanting to incur the Chief Inspector’s wrath.

“That is not an excuse. I graciously gave you extra time to eat. Yet here you are, breaking the rules to finish eating,” Ascal Sanev Zylnan snapped, gripping his whip with white knuckles. “Give me one good reason not to kill you here and now.”

“I-”

Ralogolar attempted to reply, but before he could even start his sentence, the Chief Inspector’s whip cracked past his face, grazing his ear and slicing through a layer of the stone floor like a hot knife through butter.

“Choose your next words wisely. Don’t mistake my kindness as privilege, you worthless human,” Ascal Sanev Zylnan warned whilst preparing his whip for another strike. 

The air felt thick as it passed through Ralogolar’s lungs. With the overwhelming aura exuding from the Chief Inspector, it became a challenge for him to just breathe. In the past, he wouldn’t have attempted such a risky act, but things were different now.

‘The plan is in motion, I just need to keep them busy.’ Ralogolar thought to himself, rising from his bowed position and staring into the Chief Inspector’s eyes.

“I have no excuse, Master,” Ralogolar answered, closing his eyes and tensing every muscle in his body.

In an instant, the pain he had been expecting ripped across his body like a tornado. The Chief Inspector’s whip lashed his body from every conceivable angle, ripping through his tattered garb and skin with a cruel, relentless rhythm. Each lash felt like it peeled him apart.

Ralogolar fell to his knees within seconds of the onslaught, knocking over his pickaxe as his scrawny knees scraped against the unforgiving stone floor. With each strike from the whirlwind-like whip, stone chairs were flung across the room, and tables mounted to the floor began to crumble. 

Despite the agony he went through, Ralogolar laid still against the floor, shielding his neck with his bloodied hands. What felt like an eternity passed as blood splattered across the room and stones crumbled and smashed into the remains of tables. A howling wind blasted across the room as the torrent of lashes slowed to a stop, leaving Ralogolar in a pool of blood in the silent dining hall.

“Have you learned your lesson?” Ascal Sanev Zylnan asked, flicking the blood off his whip in a single motion.

Ralogolar laid trembling in the pool of blood, his skin left shredded by the whip, exposing his tender muscles beneath. Yet as the blood around him slowly expanded, the green hue that had saved him previously did not appear. 

“Answer me, worm,” Ascal Sanev Zylnan snapped, waving a small rectangular contraption around with his spare hand. “This room won’t heal you until I get my answer.”

Despite the pain that rampaged across his body, Ralogolar dug deep into himself, mustering all the strength he could find. His once white hair, now dyed red from blood, dripped slowly as he raised his head, struggling to utter even a single word in his injured state.

“I… have sinned… Master… I’m sorry….” Ralogolar stammered out, letting his head fall to the floor in exhaustion.

The Chief Inspector scoffed at Ralogolar’s words, pressing the device in his hand and turning toward the exit. 

“You’re excused, vermin. Tomorrow you’ll have double the quota to fulfill because of this stunt of yours. Proceed to the sanctum once you’re able to move; if you’re lucky, you’ll only miss half of it,” the Chief Inspector said harshly, sliding the device into his pocket as he walked out of the dining hall.

Within seconds of the Chief Inspector leaving the dining hall, the dull green gems that protruded from the walls began to shine, covering Ralogolar in the same grassy green aura that saved his life previously. As the aura seeped into his body, Ralogolar’s exposed muscles and veins squirmed, piecing themselves back together as new skin grew over the thousands of cuts across his body.

Seconds turned to minutes as Ralogolar slowly regained his strength, until he finally managed to stand as the green hue faded into his body. Blood dripped from every strand of his hair as he stumbled forward, grabbing his pickaxe off the ground as he made his way out of the ruined dining hall.

Yet as Ralogolar made his way to the exit, a smooth and sly voice crept its way into his ears.

“Young Ralogolar, why are you causing so much trouble when your freedom is within reach?”

Ralogolar slid to a halt as a hooded being stepped out from the shadows, with strands of silky blonde hair flowing out from under the hood. 

“These Elves think something is wrong if we don’t try to rebel,” Ralogolar remarked arrogantly, activating his skill as he spoke. “Quit trying to control me. If you do your part, I’ll do mine.”

The hooded being began to laugh as Ralogolar’s scrawny build expanded into his usual muscular appearance. Although the hooded being’s appearance was rather feminine, with long hair and a shorter stature, the laugh that echoed about the dining hall was unmistakably masculine. 

“Yes, they are quite suspicious of us, aren’t they?” The hooded man said, stepping further into the light. “Regardless, are you ready?”

The hooded man extended his arm to Ralogolar, holding a small leather pouch in the palm of his hand. Ralogolar stared at the hooded man with distrust in his eyes, yet only seconds later, he snatched the pouch from his hand.

“What is this?” Ralogolar asked whilst inspecting the pouch.

“That is your salvation,” the hooded being replied, pulling out a lustrous golden necklace with a myriad of symbols and runes inscribed upon it. At its center was a gleaming silver gem in the shape of a diamond with four expertly made cuts to each of its sides.

“That insignia,” Ralogolar growled, stepping back and readying his pickaxe for battle. “You serve their religion?”

“Yes,” the hooded man replied, grabbing his pendant with a somber gaze in his dark blue eyes. “They conscripted me when I received my Skill. I was part of a different slave division before they took me away.”

Ralogolar remained in his battle-ready state, keeping his eyes locked squarely on the hooded man. Every fiber of his being was telling him not to trust this man, yet without him, the plan would have never existed.

“Tch,” Ralogolar scoffed, clenching his pickaxe tightly. “I need to be able to trust you. Or we can’t move forward with the plan.”

A palpable silence emanated between the two, with each person staring daggers into the other, neither wanting to play their hand until the final moments of the confrontation. As the minutes passed and the tension between the two grew, the hooded man finally sighed and raised his hands to his hood, pulling it back slightly to reveal his face.

“You… What did they do to you?” Ralogolar asked, lowering his pickaxe upon witnessing the sight.

His face, although sharp and free of blemishes, was decorated with scars in every direction, etched across his forehead, eyes, nose, and mouth. It was a miracle he could still see, breathe, or speak.

“They did everything, I only got out because an apostle took a liking to me,” the man replied, sliding his hood forward to cover his face once more. “And in case you need more, my name is Ralozojin, a previous member of the farming district.”

“Well then,” Ralogolar said, sliding his pickaxe under his left arm and gesturing toward Ralozojin for a handshake. “I’ll see to it that these bastards suffer for you.”

Beneath Ralozojin’s hood, a villainous smile spread from ear to ear, as he shook Ralogolar’s hand with more excitement than he had ever felt in his life.

Two hours later, after the religious sermon concluded and the humans had been dragged back to their cells for bed, Ralogolar lay still in his bed with his eyes gently closed. Despite three of his four walls being the same cold, hard stone that made up the chasm he lived in, a collection of gemstones lined the floor of his cell. His pickaxe rested neatly against the edge of his worn and uncomfortable bed with a newfound glow, as if it had been especially sharpened for the events to come.

A dim light illuminated Ralogolar’s cell from the hall, passing through the wall of metal bars that prevented his escape. The silence that filled the rows of cells was deafening. Despite that, Ralogolar kept his mind sharp as he waited for the perfect moment to arrive. Minutes would pass in complete silence until a booming voice ricocheted through the hallway.

“LIGHTS OUT!”

Like clockwork, the torches illuminating the halls blew out, leaving every cell in the chasm pitch black, except for one. Within seconds of the light disappearing, the gemstones that lined Ralogolar’s cell began to shine, albeit only enough to see within the cell. 

‘One, two, three…’ Ralogolar began to count subconsciously, marking each passing second. 

With each passing second, the silence that once filled the chasm was replaced with whispers and whimpers. Restlessness settled into each and every cell, be it from fear of the coming hours or anticipation of the night to come.

‘Two-nintey-eight, two-nintey-nine… Three hundred!’

As Ralogolar’s count reached three hundred seconds, his eyes shot open. A cold aura as sharp as a Swordmaster’s blade exuded from his body as he sat up. Ralogolar reached down between his bed and the wall, pulling out a fine pressed outfit stashed away from the eyes of the guards. 

Using the faint light available, Ralogolar changed into his new clothes. First into the light blue undershirt, then the crisp white pants and sleeveless tunic, and finally a leather strap around his shoulder with an empty scabbard attached to his back. After adjusting his outfit and taking a final deep breath, Ralogolar stomped on the flat end of his pickaxe, flinging it just high enough to be grabbed mid-air.

As the pickaxe landed in Ralogolar’s hand, Toolhandle activated. Ralogolar’s muscles expanded violently as he reached down to his bed, grabbing the small leather pouch he had been given mere hours ago. With one hand, he opened the pouch, as a brilliant golden light emanated from within. Inside rested a single glowing gem with dozens of runes inscribed on its surface.

The brilliant golden light slowly filled Ralogolar’s cell as he removed the stone from its bag, even going so far as to cast light into the hallway, attracting the attention of his fellow humans. Within seconds, the murmurs within the chasm died out, leaving only one question to come from the darkness.

“Is it time?”

A smile spread slowly across Ralogolar’s face, with a hint of arrogance mixed in with the joy he felt inside. With a single motion, Ralogolar channeled all his strength and mana into the gemstone in his hand, activating it in the process.

In an instant, the bars of pure Adamantite began to quiver as the unlocking mechanism activated. And as the bars slid out of the way, opening a path into the hallway, Ralogolar gave a simple reply.

“It is time.”