Dungeon Of Pride, Laplace

Chapter 640: The Story Of A Certain Slave (Weretiger) (1)


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There were some movements in those eyes, they glimmered for a second and the motionless body of the weretiger slowly showed some activity.

"R…E…" the weretiger muttered.

"RE?"…

"RE..VENG..E"…

"Revenge?!!" Simon finally understood what the weretiger was trying to tell him.

"You want to take revenge?" Simon scoffed "Let me tell you something, I don't know who you want to take revenge on, but give it up. The way you guys are right now, forget about revenge, it would be a miracle to even call you alive".

"The best outcome would be for you guys to die, that way you all will be liberated from your misery" The demon glared at the weretiger with his piercing crimson eyes as he enunciated every word slowly.

Right afterwards though, he flashed a wicked smile and added: "That said, I like your spirit. Revenge huh, now that's a much better answer. Had you said something as boring as wanting to live, I would have left the place without bothering to come here ever again".

"But you said something much more interesting. Hehe… Revenge, that's not something a person who has given up all hopes of living would ask for. Still, the way you are right now, you cannot take your revenge"…

"H…elp… re… venge" a voice muttered from the corner.

The voice that came this time, wasn't from the weretiger but rather the Elf who had her head shaved. Her hollow eyes were stained with two teardrops that slid down her cheek.

"Help? Why should I help you? What's in there for me?" the demon questioned.

"O..ur….every… thing" the Dark Elf replied after the Elf. Since the Dark Elf's face was scarred with a substance like an acid, it was impossible to know what kind of expression she was making.

"Every… thing"…

"Every…thing"

The CatKin and the Cientrhope also joined in.

"Hehehe" Hearing their answer, the demon's wicked smile broadened even further.

"Are you guys saying that you are willing to trade everything you have to me in return for helping you take revenge?".

The demihuamns all nodded their heads slowly.

"Very well, I shall take your souls in return for bestowing you power" the demon laughed before taking out something from thin air and throwing it towards the demihumans.

It was a small vial filled with some mysterious crimson coloured content.

"Drink it" Leaving behind those words, the demon got out of the cell.

"That's right, in a while, my subordinates are going to visit you and bestow upon you a very very special power. From then on, it will on you all. Do try to survive with all of your might. I wonder how many of you will still be alive after that"

The laughter of the demon rang out inside the dark dreary cave until it completely disappeared.

-----

"Where is this place?"

When he opened his eyes, everything had changed. He was no longer in the village. He seemed to have been brought over to some mansion of some human noble. This meant that he had been defeated.

"Noo!!" he cried out and struggled but the restraints around him barred him from moving around too much.

If he was captured, it could only mean that his village was destroyed and his clansmen enslaved. He had failed to protect his village.

As a Weretiger from the White Tooth Tribe, he was one of the warriors tasked with the protection of the village. However, he had failed, his strength wasn't enough to fend off the enemies.

His homeplace was destroyed, the children and women enslaved. And because he in particular showed fierce resistance against them, to make an example those bastards had killed his wife and daughter right in front of his eyes.

"I'm sorry Selnia, Shaerra... I wasn't strong enough to protect you all" He cried, droplets of tears falling down from his tiger like eyes.

After the sadness and self-loathing, came the hatred for his enemies. Weretigers were a warrior race, his keen instincts and senses immediately picked up a few presences walking towards him from the hallway in the front.

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ROARR… He gave a savage roar, his claws extended out of his hands and he immediately charged towards the short stature obese man walking in the front.

He was about to tear the man apart when a handle of the sword came from the side and dug deep into his abdomen. The power in that blow was so great that it nearly knocked him unconscious.

He was blown back. He tried to get back up on his feet but the restraints around his body made him slow. Just as he looked up and gazed towards his assailant, a foot came crashing down on him, planting his face on the ground.

"So my lord, what should we do with his one?" the assailant asked turning towards the fat man.

This voice was familiar to him, the ears of the weretiger twitched. This man was one of the figures that attacked his village.

"The Weretigers fetch an excellent price in the slave market because of their strong physique and powerful abilities. This one in particular was far stronger than the rest of its tribe. I would have liked to sell this one just like the others, but it needs some discipline. If it attacks its own master the reputation will go down. Sell him to that person"..

"Alright"…

These were the last words he heard before he was knocked unconscious. The next time he opened his eyes, he was inside some basement. A strong bloody scent powerful enough to make one nauseate, filled this room.

The eyes of the weretiger were adept at even seeing at night as such, even though the room did not have sufficient lighting he was still able to make out the things lying around in this place.

These things looked very disturbing and had blood covering them. He did not have to think much to know what kind of place this was.

"Oh! So you finally woke up huh? I was about to wake you up" A voice sounded and a person walked out from behind him.

He wanted to turn around, but the weretiger realised that he was unable to. He was restrained and fixed into something. His limbs and even his mouth were tied up.

"Khehehe… it's pointless, there is no escape from here. You have been sold to me by that fatty, so you are now mine".

The other party said, they had a disturbing appearance with numerous stitches all around their face. They had hunched back and cancer like protrusions covering their body.

Finding the stench coming from this person unbearable, he tried to move; however, it was impossible.

"Hehe, there is no need to be shy, you are now one of my dear experimental subjects. We will spend a lot of time together from now" the person smiled.

After that, it was just a series of endless torture day and night for the Weretiger. The person he was sold to seemed to be some kind of mad scientist as they repeatedly researched and modified his body.

The pain was outlandish at first, having your guts being stroked, muscles and cells being destroyed, bones melted and so and so forth. Until a point came where he became completely unfeeling to these experiments.

He did not know how many times he wanted to die; however every time these thoughts sprang up in his mind, he suppressed it. He couldn't die, not unless he took revenge for his clans and killed the man who killed his daughter and wife.

And so he struggled to keep his sanity but it came at the price of his spirit.

.

.

How many years passed by, he lost track after the first few years but he knew that more than ten years had passed already. Finally, as if he had run his use, he was sold off by that scientist to a slave merchant who then trafficked him to the Central Continent.

He had been collared, became the slave of multiple masters and on the way, exchanged hands to some Adventurers guild who bought him for a hefty price. It was there, he met another member of his tribe.

But just like him, that tribesman's spirit was completely broken and they had just become a soulless slave that only followed orders. The guild used them as dispensable pawns to do all kinds of dirty and dangerous tasks that were too much for the adventurers.

In his many years in that guild, he had seen many slaves being bought and sacrificed. There were so many familiar and foreign races among them; nevertheless, all of them died or were discarded upon their use.

The only reason he and his tribesman hadn't been discarded yet was because they were from the Weretiger tribe and had powerful racial abilities and physiques.

A lot of time must have passed since that incident in his village. He had grown tired of everything, it was no longer possible to keep his sanity and spirit intact.

Should he just give up on revenge and die? These thoughts continuously plagued his mind. He had decided, he was ready to give up his life on the next mission.

But maybe fate had something else planned for him. Along with a new batch of demihuman slaves, the adventurers guild transported them to a new place. It was a town that was on the verge of becoming a city.

The place had an influx of people coming in and out. They looked very active and vibrant, the town was thriving. But for them slaves, it was all the same.

The reason they were brought to this town was to be used as expendables inside the dungeon and fight bloody battles.

Yes, the town was a dungeon town.

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