I am looking for a good exorcist...

   Have you ever seen one of those movies where the protagonist makes a promise he can’t keep? Like a soldier promising to marry the girl he loves once the war is over—only to die in battle? I always thought that kind of thing was just a trope. Something made up for drama. I never believed it happens in real life... How naive I was.

   At the end of last chapter I decided to talk things out with Zephyra. Everything felt like it was leading up to some big, emotional finale.

   Instead, here I am…. In a cage.

   Yeah. A literal, metal cage. Cramped. Rusted. Bolted to the back of a large jeep making its way down some forest trail. The whole thing shakes with every bump and turn, the air thick with the smell of sweat, iron, and depression.

   I sat cross-legged in the corner of the cage, the puppy curled up at my side. Around me were women and children—beastmen, judging by the animal ears poking out from under their hair and the light fur across their limbs. They huddled in silence, avoiding eye contact, their bodies tense, gazes fixed on the floor or the bars. I leaned back against the cage and let out a short, ironic laugh, running a hand across my forehead.

   “Caught by a bandits, huh? Am I cursed or what?!”

   The puppy nudged my arm with his nose, probably telling me to stop being dramatic. I gave him a small pat.

   That’s when I heard it.

   “Excuse me.”

   “Hm?”

   The voice was soft and caught me off guard. I blinked and turned to see where it had come from.

   Across from me sat someone cloaked and hooded, her entire body hidden beneath loose fabric. The shadows of the hood made it impossible to see her face or figure. The only thing I knew is that it was a female voice.

   The girl tilted her head slightly, her hood casting shadows over her features. Her voice was soft but clear.

   “Excuse me. Is your head okay?”

   I blinked, taken aback.

   Okay, that was mean.

   I thought to myself, raising an eyebrow.

   Maybe she sensed the shift in my expression, because she quickly waved her hands. 

   “N-No, I mean—you’ve been talking to yourself for like an hour now. I thought you might be having a breakdown or something.”

   I let out a quiet sigh. Indeed, that could be worrying.

   “No. I’m fine,” I said, my tone calm. “By the way, do you know where they are taking us?”

   She shook her head slowly. “No, I don't know. I'm sorry...”

   Her hands were trembling slightly. I don’t think she even realized it. I hesitated, then reached out and placed my hand over hers. She flinched and looked up, startled, but I kept my voice calm.

   “What happened? Why are you all here?”

   The girl hesitated, her gaze lowering. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.

   “Those poeple here used to be residents of a village located in the northern part of the forest...”

   Her voice trailed off, but the weight of her words lingered.

   Turns out their village had been small and peaceful, nestled in a quiet clearing surrounded by tall trees. Its people lived simply, their lives built on trust and hospitality. Outsiders were welcomed warmly, whether they were travellers seeking rest or merchants passing through.

   But one day, everything changed.

   A group of men roared into the village. The sight of them was unusual enough to put the villagers on edge, but there hadn’t been time to act. Before anyone could speak or move, chaos erupted.

   Buildings were set ablaze, the flames devouring homes and livelihoods in minutes. The fields were trampled, the crops reduced to ash under heavy tires and boots. Anyone who tried to fight or flee was met with violence, their lives ended swiftly and without mercy.

   By the time the attack ended, the once-thriving village turned into ashes. From those who survived were only women and children. They were rounded up, shackled, and thrown into cages like livestock.

   The girl’s words had stopped, but her story was written all over the faces of the others in the cage. The despair in their eyes, the way they shrank back from every sound or movement—it told me everything I needed to know.

   “I see,” I said quietly.

   The puppy shifted in my lap, pulling me from my thoughts. Its small, warm body rested against me as I absently stroked its fur, feeling the steady rise and fall of its breath.

   Suddenly, I broke the silence, turning back to the hooded girl. “Wait, you said these people? Why does it sound as if you are not including youself in this group?”

   She tensed slightly, fingers fidgeting under her cloak.

   Finally, she nodded. “Yes… I had only been in the village for a few days.”

   Her voice was quieter than before, almost as if she regretted something. The conversation stopped there. It was clear from the way she avoided looking at me that she didn’t want to continue.

   Before I could decide whether to press her further, another voice spoke up from behind me.

   “What will happen to us now?”

   I turned and saw a young cat girl tucked tightly into her mother’s arms, her big golden eyes staring at me, full of fear and uncertainty.

   I sighed and leaned back against the bars. “Let me think...” I paused for a moment, then spoke calmly. “There’s no doubt they want to sell us as living merchandise.”

   A ripple of unease passed through the cage. I could feel the weight of their stares, their fears growing more tangible with every word I said.

   But wait, something doesn’t add up.

   From what I got to know, slaves are usually bought for one of two things—manual labour or sexual uses. But there aren’t any men here older than 16, which would rule out physical labour. And as for the other reason—well, the value of that kind of slave increases with physical condition. Most of them are covered in cuts and bruises, so it doesn’t look like they cared for their quality. The fact that they decided to take me and the puppy is a bit confusing too. 

   What are they planning to do with us?

   They killed all the adult men. Maybe they decided it will be too much of the problem to take them? I don't want to sound like a sexist, but women in this village probably weren't good at fighting, making them easy target. It was probably the same for the kids. 

   Now that I think about it, if we take all the data together, there is no way that they are typical slave traders. Their way of working is way too reckless and messy. That's when one idea came to my mind: "What if they are not a slave traders but mercenaries working on commission from someone else?"

   Before I could think further, someone else broke the silence.

   “Who cares!” a young boy’s voice rang out sharply.

   I turned toward the sound and saw a wolf boy, around 2 years younger than me, sitting near the back of the cage, his fists clenched and his teeth bared. “Our village, our home, our families...! It’s all gone!”

   His words hit like a shockwave. Some of the beastmen flinched, their ears drooping as they clung tighter to one another. The quiet sobbing of the little cat girl grew louder, and a few others lowered their heads further, despair tightening its grip on the group.

   I let out a slow breath and turned to him. “Sorry, but could you please shut up? You’re just making it worse for everyone.”

   The boy’s ears twitched as he glared at me, his anger boiling over.

   “Calm down, you say?! How can you even be calm in this situation?!”

   “Normally. We’re still alive, after all.”

   “Ha?! We’re about to be handed over to slavery, and you say it’s okay because we’re still alive?! It may suit you, but I’d rather—”

   Before he could finish, something snapped in me. He behaves the same way I did when Zephyra brought me to her place. For some reason his behavior pissed me of.

   I stood up and slapped him. Hard.

   The sharp sound echoed through the cage, startling everyone. The boy staggered back and fell to the ground, his eyes wide with shock as he looked up at me. The rest of the beastmen froze, their gazes darting between us, too stunned to say anything. Even the puppy let out a small whimper, shifting nervously by my feet.

   “Shut up you stupid brat,” I said firmly, my voice low but sharp.

   I looked down at him, meeting his stunned gaze. “Let me guess,” I continued, my tone cutting. “You were about to say something like, ‘I’d rather die than live like this,’ right?”

   His ears flattened further, and his mouth opened slightly, but no words came out.

   I took a deep breath, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. “You know what? Over a month ago, I was saying exactly the same bullshit.” 

   I paused, my voice dropping to a mutter as I added quietly, “Now when I think about it, it makes me sick.”

   Straightening, I fixed him with a steady look and continued, louder this time. “But one day someone made me realize. Choosing death is just running away. You won’t find any salvation in it. You go to ethereal sleep, while worms eat your remains until there’s nothing left of you. That’s all death is—rot and nothingness.”

   He didn’t reply, but I saw his anger falter slightly, his gaze shifting as my words sank in.

   I took a step closer, my voice steady but firm. “You can live with pride, but not die proudly. As long as you live, you have hundreds of possibilities. If you regret the destruction of your village so much, then build a new one! If you mourn the death of your loved ones, then live for them! I’m sure there is still something you have to do, right?! Anything is fine!”

   The cage fell silent, my words lingering in the still air. I could feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on me, the tension slowly giving way to something quieter, heavier.

   The boy finally replied, his voice shaky but defiant. “Y-you can say whatever you like, but it doesn’t change the situation we’re in.”

   I smiled faintly, leaning back against the bars. “Then how about we get out of here? I have a plan—but I’ll need everyone’s help.”

   The others began whispering among themselves, their voices a mix of doubt and curiosity.

   I raised a hand slightly, trying to cut through the uncertainty. “I understand that you are confused. After all, I am someone who is a complete stranger to you all. But right now it doesn’t matter!” 

   Straightening up, I placed a hand over my chest. “Let me introduce myself. My name is Sora, and I don't want to be stuck here any longer. I'm sure many of you feel the same way.”

   I extended my hand toward the beastmen, clenching it into a fist as I continued. “In that case, how about we just get out of here? Who is with me?”

   A confident smile spread across my face as I looked around.

   The beastmen exchanged hesitant glances, their expressions shifting between doubt and hope.

   Suddenly, the hooded girl, who had been silent for some time, stood up. She stepped forward, her movements steady, and placed her fist against mine.

   “I-I... don't want to be here any longer either,” she said, her voice quiet but resolute.

   Her action seemed to spark something in the others.

   The little cat girl, still nestled in her mother's embrace, hesitated before stretching out her tiny fist. Her voice was timid as she said, “M-me too.”

   Her mother followed immediately after.

   One by one, the others joined in—women, children, all stretching out their fists until only the wolf boy remained.

   I turned toward him, raising an eyebrow, silently encouraging him to make his decision.

   He scowled, his ears flattening against his head as he stepped forward. With a sharp thrust, he pressed his fist into the circle.

   “Okay! Me too!” he exclaimed, his voice tinged with frustration. “But I’m not doing it because you want me to. Don’t get ahead of yourself! My parents would be dissapointed in me if I quitted without a fight. That's all!”

   I smirked slightly. “Fine with me.”

   I looked around at everyone, their faces filled with tentative hope, and let the energy of the moment settle.

   “Now, let me present my plan.”