novelraw Chapter 5: From Commoner to Slave!
Chapter 5: From Commoner to Slave!
But Henwil's anger didn't last long before fear took over as the dominant emotion.
Because ahead, they were screening the population - the elderly, weak, sick, and disabled were being directly stabbed to death by soldiers and casually dragged beside dilapidated houses.
Those too young were also being killed by soldiers using wooden spears.
These soldiers who should have been farmers just a year ago now showed no trace of their former simple honesty as they killed unarmed people.
Killing someone just like them - another farmer, another commoner - no longer caused them any psychological pressure.
Henwil knew this was the enemy army screening for usable slaves to transport supplies and perform hard labor.
And children like him were clearly not within their selection criteria.
Henwil glanced around - there were patrolling cavalry, armored infantry.
He might be able to suddenly attack and kill one farmer-turned-soldier, but what then? He would still die in this human hell.
Soon, it was Henwil's turn to be registered.Seeing Henwil's appearance, the inspecting soldier directly waved his hand, signaling the nearby farmer-turned-soldier to proceed.
Henwil's eyes turned icy cold, and he prepared to take one of them down with him.
Just then, a squad of cavalry passed by. One of the riders turned his horse around, glanced back, then shouted loudly: "Wait!"
Holy shit!
The feeling of being saved from the blade's edge - is this what it feels like to be so stimulated?
Henwil's back was completely soaked through, and in the gentle breeze of late autumn, he felt a bone-chilling cold.
The cavalryman leisurely guided his horse to Henwil's side: "Little one, do you remember me?"
Henwil looked up, examining the newcomer with confusion.
Gray hair, but quite young, well-proportioned build, seemingly quite tall, with slender, pale fingers that nevertheless bore calluses.
He wore engraved leather armor with patterns, a long sword on his back, a short sword at his waist, a large bow hanging by the saddle, and two quivers of long arrows fastened behind the saddle.
This man wasn't a soldier - his equipment was too miscellaneous, not the standardized gear of the enemy army.
Based on his attire, Henwil recalled a profession from books - a ranger!
That explained it - these were mercenaries recruited by the enemy army.
Many capable mercenaries took war missions - good pay, immediate payment!
After thinking this through, Henwil nodded slightly: "You're the one who captured me!"
The gray-haired ranger smiled: "Little guy, you've got good physique. You didn't faint immediately back then - I thought you were some noble's child?
But after checking, you turned out not to be! Wasted my excitement, so I just threw you into a cage.
These past two days, I went on a mission and almost forgot about you, little one! That you survived in the dungeon genuinely surprises me."
Then the gray-haired ranger leaned down to examine Henwil, a smile curling at his lips: "So? How did human flesh taste? Little one?"
Henwil shook his head: "I didn't eat people!"
"Lying isn't a good quality! Especially given your current situation!
Tell you what - if you can make me believe you didn't eat people, I'll let you live. How about that?"
Henwil took out half a rat from his pocket: "I ate this!"
The gray-haired ranger paused, then laughed: "Heh! Quite clever! Then show me!"
Without hesitation, Henwil bit into it right in front of everyone, chewing slowly.
Henwil's face remained expressionless as he chewed slowly, finally swallowing with difficulty but determination.
The gray-haired ranger watched Henwil with interest: "Interesting! It seems dodging that arrow back then wasn't just luck after all! So? How does rat taste?"
Henwil: "Compared to death, it's not bad. Though it would be better with some sauce, of course!"
"Hahaha... Good! You won't die! Now you're my slave!"
Henwil bowed slightly: "Henwil, always ready to serve my master!"
The gray-haired ranger brought Henwil to the outer military camp - neat tents, squads of patrolling soldiers.
This was the enemy's main elite combat force, completely different from the cannon fodder in the town.
The mercenaries belonged to various noble lords - these were hired mercenaries paid to minimize their own losses.
However, the gray-haired ranger wasn't that type of mercenary; he was a ranger hired by the enemy's regular army.
That's why he had the privilege to enter the military camp.
Arriving at his private tent, the gray-haired ranger pointed outside: "Go wash up, make yourself look cleaner. Your smell will affect my dining.
Although that food already tastes like shit, at least I shouldn't feel like I'm eating fresh from the latrine."
Henwil carried a water bucket to the artificial canal outside the tents and, ignoring the biting autumn wind, began washing himself.
An hour later, seeing the dripping wet Henwil, the gray-haired ranger said: "You even washed your clothes?"
"My clothes had odor. Since master said not to affect master, of course I should do it properly!"
The gray-haired ranger fell silent for a moment, then played with his short sword: "Now, you need to convince me not to kill you!
Little one, though you try hard to conceal it, many emotions still show through. There's hatred in your eyes.
But that's not important - we are destroyers after all, bringing ruin and death to your people. You should hate us.
But I see something extra in your eyes, and feel something missing. Do you know what they are?"
Henwil didn't answer, only responded with silence.
The gray-haired ranger didn't mind: "Your eyes lack fear, but possess a calmness uncommon in ordinary people. So, child, you make me worried.
Keeping someone like you - I fear one day I might face your revenge! So now you need to convince me not to kill you!"
Henwil: "I'm literate. I know how to maintain armor and weapons. I know how to care for horses!"
The gray-haired ranger suddenly looked up at Henwil, not just because of the skills Henwil mentioned, but also because Henwil was using the continental common tongue.
The gray-haired ranger examined Henwil with suspicion.
Taller than his peers, sufficiently strong body, with signs of deliberate training.
Literate, can speak the continental common tongue, and possesses those skills - if Henwil wasn't lying.
By all appearances, this should be some noble's child, but he had checked - this was indeed just a small merchant's child!
The gray-haired ranger continued: "These are quite good, but what do they have to do with you staying alive?"
Henwil said calmly: "This proves I can fetch a good price, enough to compensate for your losses!"
The gray-haired ranger gently clapped: "Excellent reason! I agree. However, I want to add one more insurance!
You behave properly as a slave, don't cause trouble, and don't play any tricks. If you agree to this,
then I won't hunt down your relatives. They can spend these difficult times safely underground. How about that?!"