Chapter 96: 96. Ten Years A Slave

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Drums around the arena's edge resounded in unison and cheered the crowds. The arena in the Fort Sunflower was not that big, able to seat merely five thousand people. But that was enough as only nobles, merchants, and wealthy citizens were allowed to visit it as they spent the most money on food, entry fees, and better seats.

The arena was like a typical colosseum structure, with steps as chairs. But the first three rows had well-cushioned chairs, with a luxury roofed box at one edge for the Duke and important guests.

"Here he comes." Duke proudly pointed at one of the entry gates on the battlefield below. "You'll be shocked to know that when I found him, he was merely a slave doing manual labor—and he used to be a merchant before being sold."

Sylvester watched as the doors on one end opened, and from it came out a six-foot-tall, pteruges-wearing man. His upper body was naked and defined with fine muscles. He was only wearing left shoulder armor for protection; on his head was a helmet and a skull mask on his face. He held a thick sword in one hand and a shield in the other.

"Why was he sold?" Sylvester inquired.

"I don't know. The Duke before me bought him ten years ago. His real name is Kaecilius Silvanus. Used to be a merchant, then got into a mess with some smuggling gang, and they targeted his shipments. Eventually, he lost everything and was sold for his debts owed—including his family of wife, son, and daughter."

'Of course, how could the tragedy be limited to one man?' Sylvester internally scoffed. Every time he starts spending some time in peace, the world reminds him of how messed up it is.

"Where is his family?"

"With me." Duke replied. "I'm not that heartless, Lord Bard. Some Lord had bought his family, and I repurchased them. Then gave this man an offer that if he stayed at the top in this arena for ten years, he could have his and his family's freedom. As of now, he's stayed at the top for five years. Maddening how he turned from a merchant to a warrior."

'Doesn't the Pope wish to abolish slavery? I can see why.'

Sylvester watched the fight start soon after. The man named Kaecilius, now nicknamed The Butcher, started slowly walking sideways in anticipation.

It was a one versus five fight, The Butcher being there to hold his top position. Sylvester tried to feel the emotions behind the man's skull mask, but he was far too away, and the excitement of the people around him overwhelmed his senses.

Clash!

With his mighty arms, the Butcher went ahead and slashed his blade down straight on one of his challenger's heads.

"Haaa!"

Thud!

The challenger's body got split in half and fell to the sides. The crowd roared with pleasure, however, enjoying the show of violence. But the Butcher showed no emotion and simply moved on to hunt for his next target.

It was hard to gauge how strong each of them was, but Sylvester reckoned the fight was already decided. The Butcher was too strong for the rest, and even when the remaining four attacked him together, the Butcher leaped around like a lion and hunted them down.

'A man fighting to free his family—I pity this poor soul. But, slavery is perfectly legal under the law, the best I can do is…'

Sylvester got up from his seat and walked to the edge. He waited until the man killed his last opponent—turning the hard soil bloodied with the guts of the less fortunate. But Sylvester noticed signs of a broken man in the Butcher, as the man didn't even celebrate and stood there like a machine turned off.

'He's been doing this for five years? What a strong man—if he does survive, I might just give him a job.'

"Use it wisely." He boomed as he threw a small silk pouch full of Gold Graces, 500 to be precise. It was enough to let the man buy good enough armor and have better odds of survival. 'I suppose I can count this as assignment expense and get the reimbursement later.'

Of course, Sylvester was not going to lose money foolishly. On the contrary, this was an investment for the future because now the man was likely to remember him for as long as he lived.

Knowing how things work around, Sylvester also spoke with the Duke. "Let him keep it. The man deserves some respect for his unwavering will."

The Duke nodded, "I agree. But I hope you don't make it a habit, for the next segment is the rookie fight, where the most bloodshed occurs."

"I'm afraid I will have to move, for we must reach the destination as soon as possible for we are responsible for the evil unstoppable. It was great meeting you, and I hope we meet again on my return journey." Sylvester bid his farewell since the sun was setting. Markus' village was very close to the border, so he wished to depart quickly.

The Duke stood up and shook Sylvester's hand. "I understand, Lord Bard. I won't keep you held here any longer. Thank you for your serene hymns—you truly took the spotlight away from me on my own birthday."

Sylvester chuckled. "A bit too much, I'm afraid."

Both of them laughed for a few more minutes in their small talk and parted ways. Duke retook his seat, and Sylvester left with his team. This time, since they had exclusive permission, they got their carriage, horses, and fresh supplies, and the moment twin moons shined, they headed out.

They first headed for the Rich Wall and crossed it after getting clearances from the guards on both sides of the wall. The ones on the Highland Kingdom side were pretty lax and didn't care as soon as they heard the word 'Church'.

So, the four moved on their way. But, sadly, the road turned for the worse soon after. It was so bumpy that the carriage's spring suspension seats made menacing creaking noises.

"Take the right." Sir Dolorem spoke from a few feet in front. Then, as they took the side road, it turned even worse. It was better to say that there was no road but rather some foot trails left by animals.

At least it was all flat land, though barren. The sand slowly started to turn bright yellow, proving they were in desert lands. In no time, they saw dead trees, ominously standing here and there.

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"Let's head to the monastery directly, it's nighttime, and the village is probably asleep," Sylvester suggested. Also, since Markus was brought up under the guidance of the local Archpriest, it was better to meet the man first.

Soon, under the bright moonlight, they saw the mighty Wall of Void in the distance, the cliff that separated the Divine Desert and the rest of the Eastern side of Sol. It was as magnificent as when Sylvester was little, so high that the village in the distance appeared like grass.

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"We're here," Felix exclaimed and slowed the carriage.

The church monastery was merely at one end of the village, so they tried not to make much noise. But, the houses looked so out of shape that they would have taken it as an abandoned village if not for the candlelights from a few homes.

"Life does not seem to be going well around here," Gabriel muttered in pity.

The dogs on the streets barked as best as they could, for they looked malnourished. Chonky even threw some meat out of his dimensional mouth out of pity for the animal kingdom.

"Sir Dolorem, who's the main noble around these parts?" Sylvester inquired, wondering why Markus' village was not cared for.

After thinking and remembering the map a little more, Sir Dolorem answered. "I believe it's the Governor's Keep, as he runs the daily administration of all lands north of Sand City. Since the Highland Kingdom is so small, and the King and Queen have no heir, they didn't create any Duchy. Instead, it's all divided into counties directly under the royals."

Eventually, after moving between mudbrick houses, they finally reached the Monastery, which was also rundown in appearance. Its tiled roof was falling apart, while the paint on the walls was chipping off with the plaster.

"Even the poor Pitfall Town had a better monastery than here," Sylvester muttered and jumped off the carriage to knock. He expected the clergymen to be asleep, as it was nearly midnight, but…

"We have nothing left… go away!"

Before Sylvester could knock on the door, an angry voice from inside resounded. Sylvester felt fear in the voice, so he stepped back a little and shouted back. "I am Priest Sylvester Maximilian, here from the Holy Land—regarding Markus!"

"Markus?!"

In an instant, the door opened, and an extremely old-looking archpriest came out, his eyes appearing hazy, his hunched back appearing painful. The wrinkles on the man's face, along with the beard, moved as he spoke. "I-Is Markus alive? Did he come with you?"

'This must be Markus' mentor.' Sylvester felt nothing but pity for him.

Gabriel started. "I'm afraid not… we are his friends and spent eight years of school together."

The old man's eyes opened wide. "Ah, you must be Sylvester, Felix, Gabriel, and Sir Dolorem! Markus used to talk a lot about you four in his letters."

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Felix moved in and helped the old man stand up, as the latter seemed to be having a hard time with just a cane. "Let's go inside, Archpriest."

"Name's Norin Raad, respected Priest." He introduced himself and led them in.

Sadly, there were no rooms for visitors in the Monastery as it was minimal to begin with, and had only one giant hall. So they decided to sleep on the roof.

But the Archpriest also followed them there, leaving his makeshift bed in the hall, saying he'd be ashamed if he let the guests suffer while he relaxed. Then, for the night, they all went to sleep in their portable mattresses, deciding to talk about everything else later in the morning.

Tired from the long day and journey, they didn't even know when they started snoring. But, morning came fast as the sun rose from the West. Before they knew it, the burning desert sunlight made them sweaty and woke them up.

"Argh!" Felix angrily jumped to his feet, drenched in sweat. "Should have put on a roof first!"

However, he then walked to the edge of the roof and looked at the village, hoping to see activities.

"Why are there so many people gathered?" He noticed a crowd far away.

Sylvester soon threw a pillow at Felix for disturbing him. "Shut up, you noisy brat."

"Max, look there!"

Sylvester walked over annoyedly. "What? It's just people going to wor- Wait, why are they being put in cages?"

The old Archpriest walked over, hearing them, and looked in the same direction. Sorrow and horror were apparent in his eyes. "They are going for a hunt."

Sylvester frowned as he felt rage in the man's emotions. "People here hunt regularly?"

The Archpriest shook his head and pointed in another direction, where a few well-armed men rested on horses, surrounding a noble, most likely. "People don't go to hunt—but to be hunted."

"What do you mean?" Confused, Sylvester exclaimed.

"Priest Sylvester, in our stomach resides an evil, who if not satisfied—can make one sell their soul to the devil."

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