Chapter 108: The Slave Without Freedom

Drip, drip.

That was the sound of blood falling from the sword tip.

The dragon girl in the cell held her breath as the thick scent of blood assaulted her senses.

She clearly saw the slaughter happening in the darkness – the terrified screams, limbs severed by sword strikes, the flowing blood…

It felt like she had returned to that night, the piercing shrieks echoing in her ears again, devouring flames burning through the forest, sharp blades slaughtering her kin.

The fallen bodies locked eyes with her. She stared blankly as the viscous blood pooled into streams on the ground. Everyone had died – the slave merchants who transported her here, the Icelanders who shot arrows at her, and deaths from even further back…

When the skeleton turned and met her gaze again, her head suddenly throbbed with intense pain, as if something deep inside was trying to break out.

She felt terribly cold, bone-chilling frost enveloping her. Her scales tightened as her entire body trembled.

“Igna… it wasn’t your fault…”

“You must… hold on…”

Even that final smile had been so gentle and soft.

Yet she could do nothing. Change nothing.

She wanted to close her eyes, cover her ears, but it felt like invisible hands were prying her eyelids open, forcing her to witness everything.

“That is your sin.”

Familiar voices spoke to her – once tender, praising, reverent tones now transformed into curses.

She knew too well – death could never atone for her sins.

The cave was relit as the skeleton used fire tubes from the Icelandic corpses to ignite oil lamps.

The three remaining Icelandic soldiers trembled in the corner. When the skeleton approached, they wailed like children, scrambling backward on hands and knees until their backs hit the cave wall.

Snot and tears smeared their faces. To them, this scene was literal hell – their commander, their comrades, all reduced to corpses.

The three huddled together, clinging to each other, even beginning to call for their mothers.

Like toddlers who couldn’t wipe themselves, they cried for their mothers.

Extreme fear had distorted their speech and actions.

They were terrified out of their wits – yet this very cowardice was why they still lived.

Wade was no executioner. He wouldn’t raise his blade against those who surrendered. He took no pleasure in killing, and bore no real hatred toward these soldiers. Their youthful faces suggested they were fresh recruits with little battlefield experience.

But deciding what to do with them posed a problem.

Spare them, and they might return to report everything, exposing Wade’s presence and whereabouts.

Take them along… but Wade was just wandering aimlessly now. They’d only be dead weight.

For now, Wade had the skeletons tie them up with ropes.

Their babbling made no sense. Trying to interrogate them now would be pointless. Better to let them cool off and regain their senses.

Someone in this cave interested Wade far more. He returned to the cell, observing the dragon girl within.

Gone was her earlier aggression. Now she curled up just like the three soldiers.

Why would Icelanders come all this way just to kill her?

It puzzled Wade. If her identity was important, capturing her alive would be more valuable. Yet the Icelanders showed no intention of taking her, only shooting arrows to kill.

Could one weakened dragon girl truly threaten Icelanders so much?

Or had someone “foreseen” that she would become a threat?

The elf’s words remained etched in Wade’s mind.

He’d personally witnessed that prophets and prophecies existed in this world.

Could an Icelandic seer have predicted future events, determining this dragon girl would become a major obstacle, thus sending forces to track her down through slave merchants and kill her?

The possibility couldn’t be dismissed.

Wade studied the wounds covering the dragon girl’s body, the scales torn from her flesh lying bloodied on the ground.

In life, Wade had been captured and sold into slavery just like her.

He recalled those darkest days. Who knew how long she’d been locked here? Unlike other demi-human slaves kept in cages, she received “special treatment” – isolated in a solitary cell.

Likely to prevent self-harm, the slave merchants had added extra restraints.

Her limbs had barely any movement range, confined perpetually in this deep cell without sunlight.

What kind of life was that?

Unable even to lie down to sleep. Days and nights seeing only dark cave walls. Even meals depended on others’ charity.

She possessed not a shred of what could be called freedom. The merchants treated her worse than livestock.

Though valuable merchandise to them, she received no proper “care.”

Probably due to her aggression. Other caged demi-human slaves had grown numb, trained into obedient servants. But no matter the discipline, the dragon girl kept resisting.

How could defective goods be sold?

So the slave merchants took out their frustrations on her. While avoiding physical damage that would decrease her value, they tormented her psyche instead.

Even Wade’s days as a mining slave hadn’t been this bleak.

At least he’d had straw mats to sleep on. Transporting ore occasionally let him glimpse sunlight outside, smell fresh grass.

Wade thought ten days confined like this would have broken him. He’d have yielded, compromised with the slavers – even falsely – to escape such torment.

Yet the dragon girl seemed never to have compromised.

After that brief withdrawal, she raised her head again.

Her willpower was formidable. Wade saw calculation in those vertical pupils.

As he studied her, she studied him.

Her mouth opened, emitting a dry, hoarse sound.

She seemed to be speaking, but in an unfamiliar language.

Wade noticed her constantly switching tongues, her pronunciation and rhythm shifting.

He recognized some accents – during his baker days, customers had spoken similarly.

The dragon girl knew multiple languages. She was no illiterate.

Finally, after moments, Wade heard her speak the common tongue.

The dragon girl rasped: “Who are you?”