—SUPPLIES—5

—0—In the forest—0—

The broken sword, already half-gnawed by the beasts, made it very clear why the lessons in weapon maintenance were so important, especially since he himself saw how they seemed more interested in worshipping that piece of metal instead of gutting it, to the point that, if it weren't for his legs trapped by the weight of both creatures, he might have fled like the rat he had been accused of before, but he had long since stopped feeling them.

"And what about you, giant?" I glare at the Black-scaled creature and snarl his final challenge, at least to his imagination. "I'm such a pretty decoration, you can't kill me."

—Useful. —I imagine those words represented everything I could think.

—Y-you can talk. —Surprise and fear swirled around him, giving him a dizziness he hadn't thought possible, but it wasn't the unpleasant kind of sickness, but rather a dizziness of a height he considered deadly—. How?

—Useful. —I took the arm, where the control bracelet was, while I examined it.

Memories flooded back to the creature: how many countless people had it seen using that metal to give orders to humans with similar ones around their necks? It imagined something like its weapon, authority simply by possessing it; a venomous smile spread across its face as it imagined what it should ask of them.

"Surrender? Kill? Steal? Steal?"

-Useful.

"You don't know how to say anything else." Tarde saw the reptile looking at the control bracelet and quickly shouted the order, "Freedom!" Fear had made him act with more panic than terror before he realized he had thwarted the plans of the giant in black.

"Meat." I used my claw and marked the man's forehead with a simple symbol, a crescent moon, just the outline. "Useful." I gave the instruction, and both warriors began to bite the meat on their limbs.

“I should never have come, how did I end up here?” The screams came out naturally as she felt the flesh being crushed between her teeth, cut, bleeding, and then forcefully pulled away. “Now I remember.”

“My honor was at stake, it always had been; I’ve always led the slaves, I’ve always been the face of the lowest, I, I had to prove myself to everyone more than anyone else, I, I came here out of hatred. —I curse a name, between shouts—. What did I say? No, who did I call? My wife with my child in her womb? My brother already buried? Alba? —Again I screamed incoherently after seeing them devour my flesh and bloodied clothes, I uttered another curse and dismissed the thoughts—. It’s true, I curse him, I curse him, Lucius, you are to blame for my current state, you are responsible for this, you are the one who must pay for what is happening to me, for them eating me, for me having to see those mocking looks from these monsters who are eating my right arm… When did they take it from me? —I suppress the astonishment in the rictus of terror that has undoubtedly taken hold of my face—. Is that my leg? No, it can't be, because I can still feel the nibbling, like they just tore off part of my thigh. Why am I not screaming anymore? Have I run out of strength? Has my soul already left my body? Why can't I see Alba's light? I should be able to see it, I've been righteous! I've been faithful to Alba!! Why doesn't she appear before her most loyal servant!? —I don't even have the strength to think anymore, sleep is overtaking me—. Will I die alone in this place? —I feel afraid, I want to cry, but I was already crying; my body screams to flee and I can't—. One more chance, just one, I want it, I want to live, I want to see that slave's smile on a pike, Lucius on his knees before me, the idiots screaming my name in supplication, for them to know what I went through, for them to go through this, because I can't have that last wish, it's too much, why is it too much?

"Meat," the black, scaly warrior tells the small, feathered creature made of plants.

"Meat," the black, scaly warrior tells the small, feathered creature made of plants.

"Black meat, useful, very useful, good meat, good meat." He gave the order and both warriors stopped eating, moving away with a fear that they both noticed.

"Get away, get away, creature." His barely contained panic caused him to hesitate in his words.

—Meat. —He grabbed the head, before his grip slipped due to the sweat and partly the blood—. Young man. —Disgusted by the elasticity of the skin, he took the hair, slightly more abundant, and began to drag it.

—No, I don't want to. —His limbs swam in the air, unable to hold on to anything, only just realizing that flesh only reaches up to the elbows and knees, as he watched the creature in black play with him.

Nothing noteworthy was found during the dredging, beyond a few teeth attached to a root, while the small fireflies played with those remains, before taking them to their container.

The staff waved in celebration of the creation of another of its siblings; the right hand attached the last feather to the still-howling head. The process was complete, and with it, the five feathers shone, while both the vessel and the little fairies rejoiced.

All those present watched with deranged joy as the bark of the dying tree began to invade the skin like termites invade a house, letting drops of blood fall down the skin as they advanced and stopped after having sunk a large part of the body into the bark, while small roots began to sprout from the center of the body, under the skin and spreading like snakes inside the clothes, towards the sides, and a single one reached behind the neck towards the feather on top and, by the new dawn, the roots had finally completed connecting the nervous system into countless roots, to the point that the skin seemed to have so many tumors full of black pus, and they spread that tone everywhere, blackening the skin, while the body continued to writhe with pain, alone in that dark place; Only thoughts of revenge motivated him to continue living, aware that the opportunity he had asked for was forming, and not as he would have liked, but still accepting it, with a calmness in his mind uncharacteristic of a tortured man.

—0—Rune—0—

The morning was a cause for concern; the clouds hadn't dispersed, and the rain hadn't let up. The streets were beginning to turn into mud or puddles, while people sought a longer rest among lit fireplaces, families somewhat less worried about their new reality.

On the other hand, the warriors emerged, envying their calm and, even more so when they remembered the mission, they began to bleed the corpses, although they were grateful that the rain washed them clean of all stench; it was still heavy and the path was even more arduous due to steps buried in mud.

By evening, all the people were settled in the second quarter, either resting or sleeping, and on the walls inside the towers, only occasionally venturing out to watch for the enemy, when the first reports of escaped slaves arrived.

By nightfall everything was in order in both barracks and coordination was quite good; at the table, the reports of so many people reporting slaves had led to many arrests, some false, others true, but again that led to the work being taken to a suffocating extreme with the subject of crimes and the modification of the barracks for a prison had been delayed, even with everyone helping the slaves.

Fortune dictated that the last of the creatures' bleeding was there, in addition to reports of available supplies and the amount of gold that would be acquired once the merchant arrived, according to Alfonso's speculations and half-confirmed by the Kio house.

After sealing the final departure reports for the warriors, she finally turned her attention back to Alfonso, hoping he would summarize further, but very aware that it was her order in the past that led to her being so dedicated to the small details.

"And I think that's all for the contest." I grabbed the papers from behind him after finishing the main explanation. "You two were the winners again." I placed the names on the table.

"Great Lizard and the other is Little Salamander." He clutched his forehead, partly from exhaustion and partly from disappointment. "Well, I didn't expect much from my followers."

—Do you require anything else? —He held out the sheet with the response from the Cri house.

—Was there any news of the leader of the Cri family? —I ignored the message, as I returned to the reports of escaped slaves and decided which ones could be ignored, in favor of the most plausible ones.

"No, and with any luck, there won't be one tomorrow." He gave a simple smile, quite certain of Cri's death, but keeping it to himself.

"I agree, I'll continue with the paperwork; try to put up the announcement for the town once the rain stops, and make sure it's read aloud." I relaxed my arms and leaned back in the chair, noticing his plan unfolding and imagining a legion of white-clad people clearing the forest on their way to Lasha.

"What should the ad say?" she asked cheerfully, knowing what it would say.

—Time for phase two. —Tarde remembered the joke Alfonso used to make—. Recruitment, you know the details better than I do.

"Attack the enemy, I've got it." I snapped my fingers, feigning wit. "I'll transcribe the essentials." I took a sheet of paper from the pile on the desk and stood up to begin writing the announcement. "Have you thought about your speech?"

"I'm still thinking about it; I'll deal with these problems first." Having regained her strength, she seriously tackled the documents.

"Two or three days?" he asked, while imagining the presentation of the enemies.

—Three Dawns. —He replied, less cheerfully than Alfonso.

—Assistant? —I had already written his name for that answer.

"You, but if you don't think you're capable, find someone else." Annoyed that they weren't letting him read the new report, he prepared his approval stamp.

—Anything else? —he stopped teasing at that moment, aware that it would end badly if he continued.

"No, if you have time to spare, help me with this later." He shook the papers in the hand he was trying to read.

—Yes. —I turn the paper to the cello part and remain silent.

"Take your work more seriously, Alfonso." A quick read and a couple of things mentally crossed off before putting on the cello. "We're not in Lhasa anymore, and our duty is important here."

"Contrary to what you might think, I'm taking this job very seriously." He saluted, like a warrior, before leaving to check on the construction in the rain.

At midday the rain stopped and Alfonso, along with a group of other slaves, was putting the finishing touches on the cages, checking their durability, and they proceeded to store the rest before the guards arrived with the rest of the reports on the dead beasts.

—Very well. —He read the last part and asked—. Why did sector three take so long to finish, if they were closer to the piles of bodies?

—Troops of the former praetor, the two groups nearby were helping them, guiding them when they didn't know how to do something.

"Those troops are slowing us down." He saw so many possibilities for getting rid of them and ruled out the most extreme ones, knowing that Lucius wouldn't accept them. "Maybe it will work."

"With all due respect, Alfonso, it is not in our hands to decide his fate." The warrior respected him and, to an equal degree, feared him. "It is the praetor who must decide."

"Would you trust your neck to any of them?" he asked, amused by the question.

"Not a chance," he replied hurriedly, very sure of what he planned to do to her.

“Me neither, but if we can’t get rid of them, we’ll have to start training them.” Very aware that whoever was on the other side of the door was spying, he continued, “And who better than the one closest to being a bearer of the mantle, as you are?”

"It's not your decision, and there are people who could instruct them better." Resigned, he'd already expected this headache before an idea even struck him. "You, for example..."

—Me. —Having completed his ruse, he smiled, before turning away—. I'll see that the praetor grants me that honor then.

A shiver ran down the warrior's spine, wondering if this was the result the slave was looking for or if he had truly given the cunning one an idea.

—I'm leaving. —He gave his usual bow before leaving.

—I wish you a good trip —she said goodbye with obvious joy.

—0—Rune—0—

By nightfall, the sky had completely cleared, while people continued to wonder what was happening, noticing the unusual calm of having no attacks or blaming the rain for having masked the noises of that event.

—0—Cathedral—0—

The morning was a signal for everyone to greet Alba, and people saw the temple a little more subdued than usual; the absence of so many speakers to discuss greeting rites and of the few deacons acting as missionaries among the troops had affected the mood of the place.

Upon entering, they noticed how darkness was beginning to take hold, with the few present helping to light the candles in the darkened areas. The light filtering through the stained-glass windows began to grow stronger as dawn broke and the helpers lit the last candles inside.

—0—East Barracks—0—

After the day's prayers for prosperity and security, some felt the latter had already been granted, yet remained uncertain of its duration. This contrasted sharply with those outside, who continued to pray for somewhat less sensible things, such as the enemy and more frequent opportunities to deal with problems within the walls.

As they left, they saw several warriors escorting the praetor's right-hand man; those with more time followed them, while those with less went directly to their respective duties. Others, grateful to be working nearby, knew they could spy from a distance and, since the route was shared by only a few, quickened their pace. It was rare for communication to reach such a remote place, especially one so dangerous.

Meanwhile, the gate sweeper stood there with an apprentice orator, eager to find out what would happen and somewhat uneasy at the sight of the slave dressed much better than the rest of the people they had met; they would easily have mistaken him for a merchant if it were not for the collar caught in a black collar with some purple tints that they could not identify.

—0—Rune Center—0—

The short time the hammering lasted was enough for them to better notice the hierarchy, even if unconsciously, since it was the white guard who gave the warning, not the slave, something that did not go unnoticed by the two followers of the Saint and a vagabond who would have no problem knowing about values in authority or loyalty.

"Attention, good people of Runa." He clapped loudly, noticing how some weren't surprised and aware of his role in the conquest. "On behalf of the Praetorian, I will speak today for those who cannot read or write." He cleared his throat once more and heard the footsteps of the two guards behind him. "Dark times have come to Runa, and like all my predecessors, my sole intention is to protect this territory with everything I can offer. After two days of exhaustive research, I have concluded that I am not enough to protect you." He shook his head, taking the opportunity to look with half-closed eyes at the three factions present. "Therefore, I make this appeal to you: I will set up a recruitment table; my right-hand man, Alfonso, will be in charge of selecting the volunteers to participate in the second expedition to Runa." He extended his hands at his sides, mimicking the Praetorian, more for effect than necessity. "There will be great rewards for those who pass the tests; To those who don't, I thank you for your goodwill. —He saw the scribe approaching and the white robes of the Holy Faith, before withdrawing.

The silence that surrounded them was only broken by a few steps taken by the slave, and with that a quick verification of the message, which made some nervous and others found funny, as he went forward, somewhat more cheerful.

—I apologize, that seemed to be the whole message. Let me introduce myself, I'm Alfonso; my table will arrive a little later. Those who feel they can participate in the expedition can come around noon.

They all dispersed, many aware that dying was very easy outside the walls, but also wondering what that promised reward would be; some thinking of gold, others of a noble title, a few simply did not understand the more complex words, taking it as something for intelligent people and losing interest at the same time.

Others, more curious, went to see the announcement to verify that the content was what they had heard, and as such, it did not specify what reward there would be, but there was a lot of speculation on the part of the servants of the noble houses and the palace.

—0—Cathedral—0—

The two followers of the saint returned with the news and the deacons were absent; they only went for a quick explanation with the Parchment Speaker, who followed them to the main hall where the letter was made summarizing what had been mentioned and, after putting a speaker's seal, silently thanking him for the favor that they would undoubtedly return, then they went to the saint's room, who gave them permission to enter.

"Santa, an important message seems to be coming from a speaker," I said, looking at the cello.

"That's strange, I don't recall any speaker playing the cello." He feared trouble.

"Deacon An sent a letter," his assistant reminded him. "Requesting that a seal be sent last time, remember?" A short time later, they saw a letter open with a deacon's seal. "I think that's the letter," he said, pointing under the rest of the table to the other side.

"Y-yes, I would have forgotten." She tried to hide her carelessness with the stacked cards. "I apologize; ever since Min has been assisting the warriors, I've had trouble directing the responses." She gripped the card firmly, and to everyone's surprise, the pages scattered, but she didn't stop reciting.

"What does it say?" Miri barely contained her curiosity.

—I wouldn't know, Deacon Miri. —She earned a hard look from Runa, but nothing more came of it.

After reading the entire content for a while, she was somewhat disconcerted. "Were you able to verify the information?" she asked seriously, with a slight trace of concern.

“We can confirm that a conscription of people in the town is going to take place; we weren’t given any further information, but the Praetorian’s slave went out this morning to make the announcement; we suspect it’s a pretext for taking more slaves.” Having finished explaining, he moved to begin collecting the other letters, noticing that he hadn’t even finished reading half of them when he remembered who the senders were. “Make sure you find out where the announcement is posted and, more importantly, whether what the letter says is true.”

-Understood.

The two left without incident, while noticing the arrival of the speakers and deacons; it had taken little time to see them arrive and with it the doubt of whether they had done well to break the rules.

—Runa already has population problems; it only takes 100 slaves being recruited from those who failed the tests for this kingdom to run into labor problems.

—We would return to the times of Praetor Oli. —He remembered those days of a less worried youth and how food was scarce, even in the main temple; he knew nothing of the cathedral.

"Worse." Something told her it would be worse, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. "We'll have to talk to the Cri family about this problem; only they can take control of the new slaves."

—Should I start writing a letter?

—Yes —he answered firmly and quickly.