The soldiers handed out crude mining tools to the slaves, rusty pickaxes, dull knives, and battered hammers. Each of them also received a small woven basket, their rations dependent on how much crystal they could collect.
Alex glanced at the dull knife in his hands. It was barely sharp enough to cut through wood, let alone chip at the hardened red crystal embedded in the mountain.
With the clanking of chains and the heavy shuffling of weary feet, they were led toward the mine.
As they neared the towering red mountains, Alex felt it.
A sudden, violent headache assaulted him. A sharp, searing pain tore through his skull, like a thousand voices screaming at once. His vision blurred, and his knees buckled.
The world tilted, and he staggered, his breath coming out in ragged gasps.
The crystal…
It was affecting him.
He clutched his head, gritting his teeth. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. Why? Why was this happening?
He forced himself to look at the other slaves.
They were fine—tired, yes, but unaffected. None of them were reacting to the mountain's presence. No headaches, no discomfort.
But for him, the pain was unbearable.
Why?
A horrifying thought crossed his mind.
"The crystal is only affecting me… Could it be because I've used the crystal before?"
No. That shouldn't be possible.
The crystal he used to make the necklace had been purified. It had no corruption left. It shouldn't be affecting him like this.
Then, another thought hit him.
"The only way this could happen… is if the body I reincarnated into had already been exposed to the crystal before."
Alex's eyes widened.
"But where? How? When?"
His breathing steadied as he forced the pain down, his fingers tightening around the knife. He needed to learn more about this body he now inhabited.
He turned his gaze toward the girl, his sister—who was diligently searching the rocky surface for fragments of the red crystal.
"She might know something."
Alex approached her, his footsteps muffled against the rocky terrain. Without a word, he knelt beside her and began mining, striking the dull knife against the hardened red crystal. Each impact sent small, glimmering shards scattering into his basket.
For a while, they worked in silence, the only sounds being the rhythmic clinks of tools against stone and the distant murmurs of exhausted workers.
Then, as he chipped at the crystal, he spoke.
"Does this crystal seem familiar to you?"
She paused, wiping sweat from her forehead. "I've only heard about them before but I've never actually seen them." She glanced at him, curious. "Why are you asking?"
Alex forced a small smile. "I just think they're… beautiful."
His fingers tightened around the knife. Lies.
He couldn't tell her the truth, not yet.
Instead, he glanced at the shards glittering in her basket and added, "Just try not to let them touch you."
She looked at him for a moment, her brows furrowing slightly. Then, without a word, she turned back to her work, striking at the mountain once more.
Time passed.
Then "Stop mining! It's time to eat!"
The soldier's voice echoed across the mine, carrying an authority that sent relief through the exhausted workers.
His sister froze, her eyes darting to her half-empty basket.
"Oh no… I haven't filled it yet!" she whispered, panic flashing across her face.
Alex glanced at his own basket, almost full.
Without hesitation, he tilted it over hers, letting his own collected crystals spill into her basket until it was filled.
She stared at him, eyes wide. "I… I'm sorry."
Alex reached out, placing a hand on her head, ruffling her hair gently.
"Silly," he said with a small chuckle. "Let's go eat."
After mining, food was distributed, according to how full each person's basket was. Those with overflowing baskets received a slightly larger portion, while those with barely anything were left with scraps. It was a brutal system, forcing the weak to starve while the strong barely survived.
Alex and his sister sat on the rough, dirt-covered ground, eating the stale bread and watered-down soup they were given.
After their meal, the soldiers separated the men from the women, leading them to their respective sleeping quarters.
The men's quarters was a massive, dimly lit room, the air thick with sweat and exhaustion. No beds, just a cold stone floor, and the scent of unwashed bodies clung to the air.
Alex glanced around, searching for the young adults and strong men who had been separated earlier. But they were nowhere to be seen.
His stomach twisted. Where were they taken?
But for now, there was nothing he could do. He simply found a spot, lowering himself onto the ground like the others. The floor was hard, offering no comfort.
Beside him, a man in his late forties sighed, stretching out his sore limbs.
Alex tapped his shoulder. "How long has the war been going on?"
The man let out an annoyed grunt, but still answered. "Started two months ago. Next day, the king died of an illness. Then everything changed."
Alex's fingers clenched against the dirt.
An illness?
So that's what they told the public.
Two m
onths.
He exhaled slowly. I need to get out of here. Fast.