A few minutes had passed.
The faint breeze whispered through the cracks. The rhythmic stomping of hooves echoed from the stable, mingled with the neighing of restless horses, the distant shouts of soldiers, the scurrying of rats, and the soft chirping of a sparrow nesting in the rafters.
Elias sat in silence, lost in thought, his gaze fixed on something far beyond the walls that held him captive.
He still couldn't accept the truth.
He was a slave.
And all he wanted… was to go home—to his mother, to his father.
"But…" he thought, "…even if I somehow escape this place, they'll come for me again."
"I can't even defeat Hedric yet."
He clenched his fist, staring at his palm. "I need power. I'll destroy Hedric... and the mountain bandits too. Then I'll go home."
His weary mind eventually surrendered to sleep.
---
Only a few hours later, Elias jolted awake, gasping. "What the hell was that dream…?"
He tried to recall the nightmare, but the memory was like smoke—gone before he could grasp it. All he remembered was falling—falling endlessly through an infinite, dark void.
"An endless fall…" he muttered.
But try as he might, the rest was gone.
"Guess it was just another dream," he whispered to himself.
Lately, he had begun to hope that the dream would return him to the Clock Room—that the wise old timepiece might guide him about leadership… maybe even grant him strength. Even if it was a foolish hope, it had been something to cling to.
Now, even that light had faded.
As the silence of the night wrapped around him once more, Elias drifted off again—his thoughts quietly shaping plans for a future he refused to surrender.
---
It was early morning.
The sun had just begun to peek over the Bandit Mountains. Inside the barn, Elias slept deeply, unaware of the mouse near his feet, the noise outside, or the quiet knock on the wooden door.
Suddenly, the door flew open with a deafening crash, kicked in violently.
"Up! Get up!" a guard shouted, pointing his spear directly at Elias.
Elias startled and quickly sat up, blinking at the two guards who stood in the doorway.
The first had long black hair braided down his back. His eyes were dark, reminding Elias of his mother. He was of average height, and there was a clear air of banditry around him.
The second had shorter hair—pale blonde and partially shaved on the sides, leaving only a tuft at the top. A snake tattoo curled from his ear down to the corner of his eye. His build was smaller, more wiry. Compared to the first, he didn't quite look the part of a bandit.
"Didn't you hear me?! I said get up!" The first guard—his face twisted in irritation—thrust the spear closer.
Elias silently raised his hands, showing his chained wrists.
The second guard burst out laughing. "You idiot, Luke! He's chained up! How's he supposed to stand?" He jabbed his elbow into his companion's arm while laughing hysterically.
Luke gritted his teeth, humiliated. As his friend continued laughing, he turned to Elias in a sudden burst of rage and kicked him hard in the face.
"You disgusting little rat! You dare make a fool of me?!" he shouted, aiming the spear again.
Elias hit the ground, pain erupting across his cheek. It felt like his teeth had shattered into his stomach.
But the pain vanished almost as quickly as it came.
Why? Why always me? I just want to go home… What did I ever do to deserve this?
This world shows no mercy...
Then neither will I.
I will grow stronger—even if I suffer. Even if I fall.
I will rise. And one day… they'll be the ones who tremble.
Blood mixed with saliva as Elias spit into the hay. He stood up quietly, eyes fixed on the man holding the spear. But there was no rage in his expression—only emptiness.
The second guard, whose laughter had died down, broke the silence. "Hey, Luke. That's enough. Remember, if something happens to this kid, both of us are dead."
"As long as he can fight, they won't care. And if he's too weak, he'll die in the Ludus Cruoris anyway—probably in the first match," Luke replied, scoffing.
He then unlocked Elias's chains.
Elias blinked in confusion.
Ludus Cruoris? Duels?
What the hell are they talking about...?
Before he could think further, Luke grabbed him by the arm and shoved him outside.
Stumbling forward, Elias glared briefly at the long-haired guard before walking on.
The bandit stronghold was surrounded by walls built from thick logs. Wooden huts filled the interior. As they walked past, Elias saw two men sparring with swords—he couldn't help but think of Edward.
Where was he now?
They arrived at a worksite in the middle of the forest. Dozens of slaves, distinguishable by their ragged clothes, were cutting trees, digging trenches, or hauling stones. Guards oversaw them, ensuring no one slacked off.
"Well, well. Sleeping beauty's finally awake," one of the guards said with a grin.
Elias turned to see a tall, lean man with black hair falling over his eyes. Something about him felt... sharp.
Ignoring the comment, Elias kept walking.
The wiry guard from before shackled Elias's wrists and chained him to the others. Then the first one threw a heavy iron pickaxe at his feet.
Though it took him hours to get the hang of it, Elias eventually learned the task.
Barely five years old, he now swung a pickaxe nearly as tall as he was—breaking apart rocks and gathering vibrant crystals in hues of yellow, blue, green, and red, piling them onto carts.
When the guards left for lunch, two others remained to watch over the slaves.
As Elias sat eating his meager meal, he noticed something chilling—many of the other slaves had no tongues.
His own had merely been sealed by magic.
This world… is cruel, he thought, exhaling deeply.
"Hey! Quit daydreaming! Back to work!" shouted a guard.
Elias and the others labored until nightfall. Afterward, they were sent back to their sleeping quarters—but Elias was kept apart, locked in a separate barn.
Inside, he sat cross-legged and began to meditate.
Drawing upon the elemental energy of the earth beneath him and the wind through the barred window, he gathered Sangra into his core.
After several hours, exhausted, he lay down.
I'll grow stronger here, no matter what.
Then, when the time comes... I'll kill every last one of them.
And with that final thought, Elias slowly drifted into sleep once more.