I Woke Up In Another World As A Slave

PP's hulking stood menacingly in the middle of the pit. Moonlight glimmered off his back, casting shadows over PP's face. Tension hung heavy in the air between the two slaves. He quickly surveyed his surroundings. Across the pit lay fallen trees entangled in leaves and broken branches. To PP's right, pieces of cloth protruded from the mud, relics of past victims of this grim punishment. There was nothing here to even the odds. He didn't stand a chance. PP could overpower four men—real men, not boys like him. He could snap me in half with one hand. He isn't really considering fighting me, right?

"I said: Begin!" the Baron commanded.

Wha-?

The Prized Possession wasted no time, charging at him with intent. A jolt of electricity coursing through his legs sent him sprinting to the right, narrowly dodging the onslaught. Instinctively, he had sensed the big man's deadly intent before PP crashed into the pit's wall behind him. The fist buried in the muddy wnall had nearly crushed his head. This isn't a brawl! He's out to kill me!

From his position on the ground, he realised PP was too close to the wall to land a proper punch. His footwork seemed worse than in the previous fight with the miners.

"You don't have to do this!" he cried out.

PP turned his gaze towards him. The big man's eyes, illuminated by moonlight, were wide open, fixed on his own. There was no hint of mercy in that glare. He knew he had to run. Five whole minutes?

As PP wrenched his hand from the wall, he began to run. His first two steps slipped on the mud, and PP almost seized him, but he managed to get away. It's the mud! The ground here is still slippery from yesterday.

He zigzagged counterclockwise towards the pit's far side, taking light, rapid steps—something the big man found difficult. He had a vague survival plan in mind, but a shrill laugh from beyond the pit broke his concentration. Baron Bonatelli was pointing and laughing at him, speaking words he couldn't discern to Reacher, who tried his best to not pay attention to the Baron. Bastard!

There was no time for anger, for PP was closing in. The big man was nearly upon him as he reached the cloth-covered area to the right. At the last moment, he leapt over them, bracing for a slippery landing. As his feet touched the ground, he slid forward and continued his run, hearing a grunt and a thud behind him, mud flying up. A quick glance back confirmed PP had slipped on the cloth and fallen on his back. Yes!

A deep laugh came from outside the pit now. It was Reacher. The Baron had fallen silent. He dismissed the two and dashed to the fallen trees. He had scant seconds to find a branch suitable for defence. Sifting through leaves, he discovered a branch as thick as his arm. It was longer, but if broken correctly, it would suffice. He tried to pull it free but lacked the strength. Pressing his foot on it, he tugged again. Though the wood was dry, it refused to snap. Another glance back showed PP closing in fast. Shit!

He vaulted over the tree trunk, sprinting to the next tree. There, he found a smaller branch on the ground. Too thin and short to be more than a walking cane, it would have to do.

"A stick," the Baron laughed hysterically, "he picked up a stick!"

For reasons unknown, that made him blush. Asshole.

Quickly, he refocused on PP. The big man reached the branch he had attempted to break earlier and snapped it effortlessly in one motion. Then PP clambered over the tree and charged him again. There was no chance of a direct confrontation. He tried fleeing along the wall once more, but PP cornered him by the next tree. If he attempted to climb, the big man could easily strike him. With his new wooden weapon extending his reach, PP launched an attack that left no room to evade. He raised his branch to defend, but it snapped instantly. Fortunately, the clash of branches deflected the blow, sparing him. He attempted to flee through the opening the attack had created between the big man and the pit's edge. He didn't get far before PP struck his right arm directly. The sharp pain unbalanced him, slamming him into the wall. It took a moment to regain his senses. The attack hurt less than he feared, but the impact had left him dazed on the ground. The big man loomed over him.

"Finally," PP panted heavily.

There was no triumph in his tone—just duty. Obligation.

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"Please don't do it! Those Adventurers have no right to command you like this," he pleaded.

"The Baron is my master, and he stands directly under King Ahlgren. I have no choice," PP replied.

The big man raised his branch, ready to strike again. He was about to plead further when he noticed something that astounded him. Above PP's head hovered something peculiar—a self-illuminated sign displaying a green bar. Atop it read 'Prized Possession,' and beneath the bar, numbers appeared with the label 'Life Points'.

"Stop!" a voice rang out from above the pit, "Stop this at once!"

The branch descended, igniting a searing pain across his right cheek. He screamed, his instinct to shield his face thwarted by an earlier blow that immobilised his right arm, though that pain paled in comparison. Bloodied, he shielded his face with his left hand, bracing for another strike that never came. The Prized Possession halted, its head swivelling to identify the source of the shout, and lowered the branch immediately. Relief swept over him; the shout had spared him a shattered skull. Cautiously, he peered around the imposing figure to see what had stayed the attack. Reacher, the one who issued the command, stood with an arm extended, beckoning them towards him whilst clutching a big bag of sorts. By his side was a slave, previously absent, presenting the bag. It took a moment for recognition to dawn—but he recognized the long hair belonging to Montgomery, breathless and drenched in sweat, as if he had been running for an eternity. What did he do?

He pondered whether this signalled the end of the fight. Less than five minutes had passed, yet the Prized Possession did not question Reacher's command. He tossed the branch to the ground and began a purposeful stride towards the Baron's seat. As the distance between them widened, the sign above his head became clearer. It was a grey, almost transparent box with a darker grey outline. At the top was the title 'Prized Possession'. Directly below, a light green bar missing a small segment on the right side, represented by a slightly darker green, and beneath it, a light yellow bar similarly incomplete. Both bars shared the box's outline and were swiftly refilling. Below the bars, text read:

LVL. 10 Life Points: 1875/1890 Stamina: 89%

As the bars replenished, the Life Points and Stamina figures rose. Life Points? Is this what Varyan meant? The God of Life's Protection?

The Prized Possession was climbing out of the pit when the sign above disappeared. He was left in a haze of confusion until Reacher's voice pierced through again.

"Get over here!"

He attempted to lift himself, but his right arm faltered. Something was wrong. He resorted to his left arm to push himself up, blood trickling warmly down his jaw. That will definitely leave a scar.

As the shock ebbed, he noticed the instability in his steps. En route to the pit's far side, he observed the Baron's litter being raised and carefully borne away. By the time they reached the pit's edge, only Montgomery, Reacher, and the armoured knight with the massive axe remained. What happened?

Attempting to haul himself from the pit with his left hand, he found himself too short to reach the edge. Reacher looked over to Montgomery and with a quick nod ordered him to help. Montgomery hurried over to the edge, with some effort, managed to pull him up with sweaty hands.

"You're alright, Recruit," he whispered and as if to assure himself of it, he repeated: "You're alright."

Without warning, Reacher tossed them a flask, and he knew he had to drink it. A few gulps, and the dizziness and pain evaporated, his stance steadying. His cheek ceased bleeding. Yet, his right arm remained stubbornly immobile. Reacher gave him a better look and nodded.

"You were a slippery one," the Mace remarked. "That beast had to use a Paralysing Blow."

Reacher extended a hand, sending a small orb of light shooting into him. Instantly, he regained control of his right arm, triumphantly raising his fist. That man can cure anything!

"Thank you so much," he said to Reacher with a beaming smile.

Reacher actually smiled back, a gesture so alien his enthusiasm abruptly waned, recalling him to his circumstances. The Mace noticed and grew serious once more.

Cautiously, he addressed the Mace: "What happened? Where's the Baron? What about the five minutes?"

The Mace scoffed: "You wanted another three minutes in there?"

Receiving no response from the slaves, he shifted to answering properly, gesturing towards Montgomery with his mace.

"You've your little friend over there to thank. He found the gems you left in your Inventory and brought them here. According to the Baron's self imposed rules, the fight is null, and let's say he wasn't pleased."

Montgomery added: "I spotted them in the sack while cleaning the pickaxes and knew something was amiss."

"Silence!" the Mace barked, and Montgomery retreated apologetically.

"But they weren't there before," he protested to Reacher.

Reacher pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing.

"Listen, I don't know what kind of game you are playing, but if I were you, I wouldn't piss off the Baron," Reacher said, his tone calmer, less belligerent than usual.

What is he on about?

"You can take the easy route—just explain why a LVL one Player would choose to blend in with the NPCs—or the hard route. Just know, that the Baron has his way of getting around PVP laws."

Was I always like this? Was I… not one of them? Or was I? The words "Player" and "NPC", something out of a videogame, if he remembered correctly, meant little to him—but they were shaping his fate.

"I don't understand why you're calling me a Player or NPC or PVP. I arrived here through a large gate this morning. I remember nothing before that."

The Mace hesitated, something about that response troubling him. The armoured knight behind Reacher was quick to interject.

"It's settled then," the knight declared, "to the Slaughterhouse with you."