Liara looked left and right before dashing through the deadland. Nelg was running close to her, carrying Glenn on his back. The rotten trees and swampy ground did nothing to alleviate her worries, and her boots sunk into the mush with each step she took.

  They had been running for a full hour and still had not found any shelter or traces of civilization. Only more swamp, moss, and dead vegetation. Wherever was this place, it was rotten.

  "I...I think we should take a break somewhere and rest, even if...hah...if we don't have a shelter," panted Nelg, his armor creaking and rustling as he ran. Liara glanced at him before shaking her head.

  'Too dangerous. I feel like I can barely use magic, Nelg is busy carrying Glenn, and we have no information about this place. We need to find a hiding place.' She couldn't communicate her thoughts to Nelg, yet the latter could still approximately guess the product of her reasoning.

  "Okay then...hah...let's hope we'll find something quick then. I'm a weapon, not a horse. I'm not made to carry my owner for miles on end! Hey, bastard, can't you wake up already?" Nelg's exasperation echoed in the muddy deadland. Liara froze in her steps and raised her hand, stopping Nelg as well.

  Nelg held his breath as he adjusted his hold over Glenn. Liara squinted through the green and yellow fumes coming out of the swamp, searching for movement. Her eyes widened and she hurriedly crouched while pushing Nelg down with her. Muddy water soaked their pants as they kneeled, watching silently a strange procession a short distance away. It looked like some sort of funeral ceremony, silent and gloomy. A large carriage of iron and dark wood creaked on its wooden wheels, pulled forward by dozens of both orcs and humans.

  'Slaves,' remarked Liara. They were all practically naked, malnourished, and bound to the carriage by chains. Thick slave necklaces choked their throats, drawing blood from time to time.

  "What the hell is this...slaves?" Nelg muttered, coming to the same realization.

  The crackle of a whip resounded through the swamp, and yet no scream followed it. The convoy remained silent like a tomb, the victim's lips sealed for an unknown reason. Liara shivered, her back drenched in cold sweat.

  'We need to avoid this thing. I can't fight properly right now. Where can we—'

  "Liara!" Nelg's scream was one moment too late to prevent the whip from coiling around Liara's throat. The Black Heiress' eyes gleamed with hatred as she pulled out a last-resort dagger and sliced off the whip, freeing herself.

  'Glenn and Sahro freed me from a fate of slavery, I refuse to be a victim of it again!'

  The whip's wielder jumped off the carriage, a woman of thin stature and pale skin. She wore insolent black clothes that barely covered her private parts and sported a rictus of sharp, inhuman teeth. Liara took a short breath and lunged forward, ignoring the pain in her heart as she summoned her powers. Whitey, her little bird, yelped with concern, but Liara ignored him.

  The slaver drew out a dagger of her own, ready to fight. Liara's blade struck swiftly, reaching for the woman's waist, but the latter parried it with ease. Her Aura, a tainted, disgustingly pale yellow burst forward, pushing Liara away. The Black Heiress coughed out a mouthful of blood, her Mana Heart and Aura Core both strained to the limit. She ignored the pain and activated her Mana Sight, her eyes widening.

  She was facing a Saint. And she had next to none of her powers.

  The Saint suddenly disappeared out of her line of sight. Liara blinked, and the next moment she knew it was over. The slaver's blade was softly pressed against her neck as a dirty hand with broken nails stroked her face.

  "A good prize...And twins too..." muttered the woman slaver in Liara's ear. The latter gulped heavily, her eyes glued to the blade. The Saint could have killed her with a flick of her finger, but she didn't. Liara felt the dread fill her chest.

  'I need to tell Nelg to run away with Glenn! I—!' Liara didn't even have the opportunity to turn her head so that both Nelg and Glenn were thrown to her captor's feet.

  The slaver nodded. "Good work, Taurius. Wake up sleeping beauty, please."

  Taurius, an orc draped in tight black leather armor grunted as he lifted Glenn and slapped the hell out of him. Nelg gritted his teeth and almost rushed to help his owner, but the sight of the slaver pressing her blade against Liara's throat stopped him.

  'He can take it. He's Glenn, after all. He's practically immortal by now...' Nelg's attempt at reassuring himself did nothing to get rid of his self-hatred as he watched helplessly. Pebble suddenly appeared above the orc's head, shrieking violently as it tried to defend its master. The orc grabbed the one-eyed dragon with one hand, unharmed, before shoving it into his mouth. He frowned as his teeth failed to find purchase.

  "Pebble, damn it, stay away for now...wait for Glenn to wake up!" Nelg whispered as silently as he could, hoping that the teleporting, rock dragon would hear him. Thankfully, Pebble didn't reappear in a poor attempt to rescue Glenn. As mighty as the creature was when used as a Meteor, he remained dependent on Glenn to be truly dangerous.

  "Mistress Nora. Meat. Not. Wake up." The orc threw Glenn back into the mud, disappointed. Nora crouched and took a closer look at Glenn, passing her fingers on his skin with a hungry expression. She stopped when she noticed his left hand. The purple skin was hidden beneath a thick layer of filth and mud, but she still managed to see it.

  "...Bring that one to the carriage. Throw the twin and the pretty bird with the others. Don't forget to prepare them." Nora ordered before walking away.

  Liara tried to run away, but her feet were stuck to the ground, held in place by a mysterious force. Her hopes crumbled as she remembered the time she spent in a cage. It seemed so long ago now, and yet so close. 'Am I truly returning to that life?'

  "You. Move!" Taurius barked as he shoved Nelg and Liara forward toward the other slaves. Without a once of sympathy, he ripped away Liara's clothes, leaving her with the bare minimum. He tried to do the same to Nelg and pull away at his armor, but it wouldn't come off no matter how hard he tried. After struggling for a couple of minutes, Taurius shrugged and picked Glenn up. Another orc draped in black came to them with some slaves' collars, fastening them on Liara and Nelg's throat. Both of them couldn't move, helpless. Nelg wasn't too worried, since he could still return to Glenn's soul and escape from his restraints, but Liara couldn't imitate that feat, unfortunately.

  This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

  'It'll be up to me to free her. Slicing through that necklace shouldn't be too hard. Escaping from the crazy woman slaver and her orcs will be, on the other hand. How the hell am I supposed to rescue Glenn...?' Nelg gritted her teeth as the orc tightened a chain to his collar before pushing him with the other slaves to the front of the convoy. Liara followed him, her eyes drawn to Taurius as he carried Glenn away.

  "...!" Nelg opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. He grimaced as he clenched his collar tightly. 'That's why no one spoke a word! Damn it, a Silence curse on collars?'

  The other slaves looked at the two newcomers with sorry looks, their teeth clenched and their hands bound in prayers by leather straps. Liara glanced at the sky obscured with opaque clouds and shook her head. This time was different. She wasn't alone. She just needed to focus on one thing: recover her strength. Once that was done, escaping would only be a matter of time.

  The whip latched on her back, burning a painful trail. The slave group pulled forward, grunting and heaving silently. Liara clenched her teeth and followed the movement.

  'I will make them pay for this humiliation. By the blood of Lúthalen, I swear it!'

  The white cross on her forehead gleamed weakly before going off. Liara and Nelg, like all the other slaves, pulled as the whip crackled again and again. Nelg couldn't help but feel thankful to have chosen to appear with an armor. Had he preferred lighter clothes like his owner, things would have been way worse for him. He kept a keen eye on the convoy's driver, who was casually whipping them and endured every hit meant for Liara.

  'I have an armor, I'll at least try to make use of it!' The corner of his lips curved upward coldly as he endured one hit after the other. Soon enough, he was the only one taking hits, but it didn't matter. Nelg was a weapon. In reality, he couldn't feel pain. He could mimic the senses of taste, smell, and touch by synchronizing himself with Glenn, but if he so wished, he could simply choose to not feel anything.

  'Just keep whipping,' Nelg thought as his grin grew more and more wicked. 'I'm counting them. You'll be the first one I digest after Glenn exterminate this whole convoy.'

  ***

  Nora hummed softly as she drew out a Water Shard from a shelf. She looked at her guest, giggling shamelessly as she undressed him. She took her time to clean him up, scrubbing off the filth and blood. Glenn's head bobbed to the side, still unconscious. Nora winced and adjusted the position of his head. She dried him up and pulled him into her bed.

  The carriage was pretty large, all things considered. It had enough space for a simple bathroom and a bedroom, all just for her. Nora laid back next to Glenn and grinned hungrily.

  "Munirp's famous Devil's Hand...How did such a celebrity end up on this side of the Limbo...?" Nora licked her lips and sighed happily. "No matter. Fate always rewards the deserving." She glanced at the carriage's ceiling and pressed her hand against her chest with a fanatical expression.

  "Thank you, Mother."

  Her eyes rolled back into their sockets and she floated above the bed for an instant, her body contorting in disgusting manners. She fell back on the mattress an instant later, gasping heavily for air.

  "Huff...I..." She jumped out of bed with a crazed smile. "A divine message!"

  She kneeled and violently slammed her forehead on the carriage's floor. "Thank you for your blessings, Mother! I thank you for watching over me! I shall accomplish your desire!"

  Nora continued to pray in such a manner for an hour before standing back up. She didn't even have a scratch on her head, despite having slammed her forehead a couple hundred times. The body of a Saint was simply that resistant. Such soft blunt damage would never be enough to truly hurt her.

  She opened a small window and passed her head through. The orc driving the carriage glanced back with a grunt.

  "Change of plan." Nora smiled ravenously. "We're heading to the Penitentia. The Thorn's Church needs their Savior's to be brought to them!"

  The orc grunted and made his whip crackle. The wheels of the carriage creaked as it changed direction. Nora closed the window and glanced back at the sleeping prince in her bed. She licked her lips. There was no time to waste.

  ***

  Slam!

  "What- His Highness the Crown Prince—" The royal herald stuttered as Lucian stormed into the throne room.

  "Father!" Lucian's voice thundered, echoing against the rich marble and gold making up most of the place.

  "Son!" Alaric Magnus the Second, current King of Munirp, echoed back to his son without hesitation. "You have returned! I have heard of your merit, but it isn't enough! You could have brought the Kingdom more glory—!"

  "I did!" Lucian interrupted his father, at the greatest horror of the royal advisers. They were in a strategic meeting up until the Prince's arrival and were forced to watch live as the royal son disrespected his royal father.

  "I went into the Beyond, fought against countless beasts and a Newborn Ruler, and became an ally with the increasingly famous Devil's Hand!" He roared powerfully, his Archmagi's might surging out.

  Alaric nodded approvingly. "A Newborn Ruler! Excellent! I must hear your report as soon as possible. But this will have to wait for the end of the council—"

  "I'm not done!" Lucian walked up to the King and slammed his knee on the ground. This time, silence occupied the throne room as an atmosphere descended on its occupants. The King clenched the armrest of his throne as he coldly looked down at his son.

  "...You must have an excellent reason for interrupting me twice. Explain yourself."

  Lucian swallowed heavily as he felt his father's strength pushing down on him. Once, it was the strongest thing he had ever felt. Until Diamanes took over Glenn's body. Not that he would share anything about that. He wanted to become a true friend to Glenn, a true brother, and not someone who self-imposed into the group. And that would be impossible if he simply revealed Glenn's secrets to the King for his own benefit.

  ...He had other things he could share, though.

  "I have evaluated Glenn, the Devil's Hand, to have the potential to reach beyond the Newborn Ruler level!" Lucian declared. The King rapped his finger against his massive gold throne.

  "And?"

  Lucian gritted his teeth. "...And that same Devil's Hand has fallen victim to a banishment spell from the Count of the Mortelli family. After investigation, that spell was initially meant for me." Lucian didn't let the exclamations of shock and dismay stop him. "I have declared him a traitor to the Kingdom, but he escaped before I could pass my sentence. I have also uncovered other...threats that I wish to discuss in private."

  The Prince raised his eyes and stared back at his father. "But first, we need to organize a rescue team and bring the Devil's Hand back to Munirp, for the glory of the Kingdom!"

  The King looked at his son for a moment, pondering. After a few seconds that felt like an eternity to Lucian, the King stood up.

  "I shall have some time to verify your claims about Count Mortelli. If he indeed attempted something on the Magnus blood, a traitor declaration would be to light of a sentence."

  Lucian's eyes brightened and he stood up in excitement. "What about Glenn? How do we rescue him?"

  Alaric snorted in a less than amused manner. "We? There is no 'we'. Munirp is at war, boy, and I will not have a single of my scryers waste their time on saving a lowborn celebrity. If the Devil's Hand is truly as powerful as you say, he will return by his own strength."

  The King walked up to the Prince and grabbed his shoulder with a mocking look. "In other words, this is your own mess. Take care of it yourself."

  He waved his hand dismissively. "Meeting adjourned."