I Woke Up In Another World As A Slave

Stick opened his eyes once more to check his [Status]. He had acquired the [Unbound] class. If Emilia and Lucille were correct, this was his coming-of-age birthday gift. A smile crept across his face. This is a sign. There's no doubt about it: today's the day! And what a birthday that will be.

He emerged from his makeshift sleeping bag and the Commoner's tent to take a look around the campsite, already a hive of activity. The men were transporting large logs, various cloths, and buckets of water to and fro between the campsite and the shanty town. Despite having slept just as little, if not less, than Stick, they bustled about with the enthusiasm of children. The recent days of skipped meals were barely a consideration on this day of preparation. When the miners noticed Stick, they greeted him with a cheerful good morning before dismantling the Commoner's tent to use as fire accelerant. They had already charred their sheets and sleeping bags after supper with Cadmun's ingenious idea to use the cooking pot to craft fire starters. There's no turning back now.

Watching his home of the past few months being dismantled, torn apart, and distributed among the servants' homes—now-empty shanties—though the servants didn't possess much to begin with—he felt the winter's chill seep in beneath his cloak and a flicker of doubt prickling the back of his mind. They were investing everything in his plan. They? Why did I think of them as 'they'? It should be 'we', right?

Stick observed intently as Titor, Smith, and Michael filled various bowls, buckets, and pots with water from the well. They concealed them behind Lydia's shanty, one of the few structures they wouldn't set ablaze. They had resolved to burn only the first two rows of shanties so that the smoke would obscure the Baron's view from his tower. They had also removed a few planks here and there to repair as many of the shanties they could save as possible. The servants had agreed to squeeze themselves into groups of three or four in the remaining buildings, depending on how well the miners could manage the blaze. Everyone will be worse off after today. They really want to see the Lords escape.

Once again with the 'they'. 'Everyone' should include Stick too. Is it because I'm hoping to get out of here too? It's true that if we get that second horse, I would be the biggest help for their escape. No one else plans on getting away. At least not today. They're all fine with waiting for the Blitz family to return.

"Happy World Day, Stick," Cadmun interrupted his chain of thoughts. "Who would've thought we'd have a reason to celebrate on this day again?"

The bald man responsible for holding off the Adventurers carried a hefty pile of meat in his arms and a broad grin on his face.

"Yeah," Stick replied feebly. "Happy World Day."

"I've got the rest of the lure here. The Dire Wolves near the Manor are very restless and probably want more," Cadmun said. "Why don't you put it in your Inventory for now? Smith will come to you when it's time to let them in."

"I'm not sure how much more space I have in there." Stick opened the [Inventory] and placed the [Scrap Meat] next to the other supplies and the spare clothing for the Lords inside.

Am I counting myself out of the slaves who will stay here because my Player Inventory is invaluable to the escape, or is it because I know that I'd face less severe punishment than the NPCs if I get caught? NPCs? Did I really think of them as NPCs?

"Why the long face?" Cadmun asked.

Stick quickly brushed him off: "Oh, it's nothing."

Or maybe it's because I'm not really one of them.

"It's always something when they say it's nothing, Recruit," Cadmun retorted. "What's on your mind?"

Stick needed a moment to think. He didn't realize what Cadmun had just called him at first, and the bald man took notice.

"You know how I took up the Baron's offer to mislead him from our plan?"

"Yes, what about it? You think he's onto us?"

"No, but it's been on my mind the whole week."

Cadmun frowned. "You're not actually considering an Adventurer position in Carnifex, are you?"

"No, not really," Stick stammered. "I mean, kind of?"

Cadmun grabbed him by the collar, and the cold, meaty juices on his fingers trickled down Stick's chest. "What's that supposed to mean? The nice food and baths with women got into your head, you little goblinshit?"

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

"No, no, calm down! That's not what I meant!"

Cadmun released him from his grip, but not from his gaze. He crossed his arms with a grunt, demanding an explanation. Gods, how do I explain this?

"It's just that no one here has a chance to escape with the Lords like I do. They're sacrificing so much without knowing if my plan will work."

"And you just noticed that now? It's a bit late to have doubts about the plan, don't you think?"

"I don't have doubts, Cadmun. I'm worried. The only thing that's guaranteed is that they'll be worse off by the end of the day. And once the Adventurers find out that the fire and the wolves weren't an accident, who knows what they'll do to them? If I become one of them instead of taking part in the escape, then I could make sure that they'll be treated humanely."

Cadmun let Stick finish before he responded. He lowered his arms without breaking eye contact. He didn't speak until no one else was around. He did so not because he didn't want anyone to hear what he was about to say. The miners passing by were too busy to notice their argument anyway. He did so because he wanted Stick to hear what he had to say.

Cadmun's gaze pierced Stick's soul. His eyes blazed with an intensity Stick had never before witnessed.

"What will you do if the Baron orders you to carry out a punishment? Will you strike a slave on the head with a mace? Will you tie a miner to a horse and drag them across the Manor grounds? Will you hang one of your former friends and leave them to starve in the Slaughterhouse?"

"No, I—"

Cadmun cut him off, waving his hands furiously.

"As a Carnifex, you don't say 'no'. You follow orders. As a Carnifex soldier, you don't say 'please'. You dictate to the slaves. As a Carnifex soldier, you don't say 'sorry'. You dispose of the trash. There are no discussions with your superiors. No 'ifs' and 'whens'. No doubts about an order."

"But—"

"There are no 'buts', no 'maybes', or 'howevers'. If someone above you wants you to cut out a boy's tongue and kill his parents because he whines too much, then you do just that. Can you do that, Recruit?" The vein in Cadmun's scarred neck began to bulge. "Not literally speaking, of course; your sword is sharp enough. Not legally speaking: that boy's family are not Adventurers, after all. I mean, can you do that and live with yourself afterwards?"

Stick had never seen Cadmun explode like this before. He began to shake, his nose running.

"No, I…"

But he couldn't finish the sentence as tears welled up in his eyes. Noticing this, Cadmun took a deep breath.

"There's no way to predict what these bastards are plotting," Cadmun said. "But whatever it is, you don't want to be part of it."

"I-, I just—"

Stick tried to hold back his tears, but when Cadmun embraced him, he couldn't stop crying.

"I just wanted to help," he sobbed.

"I know," Cadmun said, holding the boy in his arms.

That's what he was. Just a boy. No amount of muscle or plans or birthdays changed that.

"You've already helped more than you can imagine." Cadmun released the embrace and looked him in the eye, this time with benevolence. "You gave us the faith to act instead of wait."

Stick had calmed down, though his nose was still runny. "But everyone involved will be worse off, even if we succeed."

"They chose to be part of this and assist the Lords. They're acting of their own volition, fully aware of the consequences."

"But it was my plan that made them act!"

"You're not responsible for everyone's fate, you know?" Cadmun exhaled. "The world doesn't revolve around you. In fact, it doesn't even know you exist."

Stick found the statement unsettling but couldn't think of a retort.

"You're not the Greatest Hero yet," Cadmun said gently. "And that's a good thing. Enjoy it!"

A smile spread across Stick's face. "Thank you."

Cadmun smiled in return. "Now, how about we—"

"Get ready!" a voice called out.

They were interrupted by a group of men led by Titor rushing past in a frenzy, shouting incoherently. What's the commotion?

Cadmun stopped one of the slaves—it was Smith—and asked what was happening.

"They're coming," Smith replied.

"Who?" Cadmun asked.

"Reacher and Becket," Smith answered.

"But it's not even lunchtime!" Stick exclaimed.

Smith turned to Stick. "Michael saw them riding down the hill. They're in a hurry."

"Do you think they suspect something?" Cadmun inquired.

"I don't know. But we've hidden everything as best we could. Titor went ahead to warn the Lords, and the others are preparing the fireplace to look normal." Smith looked at Cadmun. "Are you ready?"

"I don't have much choice," Cadmun replied.

Smith nodded and rushed towards the campsite. Cadmun turned to Stick, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you ready?"

Stick wiped his tears.

"Yes." Then he remembered: "But Cadmun, what about the bait? We can't move the defenses if the wolves are scattered outside. We need to clear one of the entrances."

"Smith, damn it." Cadmun clicked his tongue. "Hold onto them for now. If they spot us with that much meat, they'll know something's up. Make sure to give it to Titor as soon as we get a hold of that horse."

"Understood."

The sound of hooves announced the knights' approach, growing louder until it drowned out the noise of the busy slave camp. The horses stopped in front of the fireplace, and Becket and Reacher frantically looked around.

"Where is it?" Reacher yelled.

Stick balled a fist. Did they notice the missing tent?

Reacher ground his teeth. "Where is that little shit?"

Then, Becket's eyes locked onto Stick. "There you are!"

What?

"You're looking for me?" Stick asked.

Both knights brought their horses closer.

"Stick Arslan," Becket began. "You need to come with us."

Had someone talked? Was this the end of the plan before it began? What's the meaning of this?

Stick tried to stay calm, not wanting to raise suspicion. "Where are we going?"

"We'll explain on the way," the Mace said.

"Why?" Stick protested. "I thought today was a holiday."

"You little—" Reacher started, but bit his tongue to stop himself from finishing the sentence.

Becket resumed the formalities. "You are hereby ordered to come to the Baron for your official Initiation."