I Woke Up In Another World As A Slave

Shadis and Stick sat opposite each other in the carriage. Though the ride was bumpy, the cushioned seats kept them comfortable—a luxury they hadn't had when they first rode toward the capital. Suddenly, the carriage lurched to a halt.

"What's going on?" Stick pressed himself near the window to the driver's seat, careful not to be seen through the others.

"The main gate is a bust," Nakamura said without turning his head.

Stick's stomach dropped. Damn it.

They'd gambled on an escape through the main gate, but now it was swarming with guards, the crowd only thickening. No way through. No way forward. They had to retreat. Nakamura turned them back toward the city center, careful to avoid roads they'd already taken—no need to draw suspicion.

Stick exhaled sharply and forced himself to think. "What about the side gate? The one leading to the bridge?"

Nakamura flicked a glance at him. "Why?"

Stick hesitated. He could tell them the real reason he mentioned the bridge—the advice Hadvar had given him earlier. But no. That could wait.

"It's closer to the tunnel anyway," he said instead.

Nakamura didn't push further. Without a better option, he maneuvered them toward the side gate at the next crossing. When they arrived, only two Crimson Custodians stood guard. They ordered Nakamura to stop. The group tensed. They needed a way through. Fast.

"Where to?" one guard asked. "The city is on high alert."

The other guard stared intensely. Did they recognize Nakamura as a Praetorian? Or worse, do they already know him as a fugitive?

Hiro stepped up, voice steady. "My patrons have urgent business in Prye. High Council."

At the mention of Prye and the High Council, the guards exchanged glances. The guard that had spoken to Nakamura peeked at the side door of the carriage—then let them through without further questions.

"My thanks," Nakamura said to him.

"Sir," they responded with a salute.

Stick let out a breath. They had passed the gate and were finally out of the city. That was too easy. Thank you, Becket.

"That went better than expected," he muttered.

"Shut up and hide," Nakamura hissed. "We're not done yet."

They reached the middle of the bridge, the river churning below, only to be blocked by incoming Carnifex travelers—a carriage less lofty than theirs and two silver knights on horseback. The knights signaled Nakamura to pass, making room for the supposed High Council members. Nakamura gestured a "thank you" and put the carriage in motion. They just needed to pass the travelers and get on the road to the tunnel, but then guards swarmed in behind them. Stick's pulse pounded. Something's not right.

One of the guards stepped forward.

"That man—" he pointed at Nakamura. "He's a murder suspect. We found his cloak on a dead soldier."

Shit.

Bluffing wasn't an option anymore. And those silver knights? No way in hell they were winning that fight.

Stick's mind raced. Think. Think.

"Jump," he blurted.

The group, inside the carriage and out, turned to stare at him.

"It's drastic," he admitted. "But we need drastic right now."

They only had moments before the soldiers started surrounding them.

Shadis exhaled sharply. "Let's do it."

Shadis and Stick rushed out the door. Nakamura and PP jumped off the driver's seat. They climbed onto the barrier rail. Stick looked down to the river below. His stomach flipped. Too high. Too fucking high.

Shadis and Nakamura hesitated. PP froze completely.

"As long as we have one life point left, we'll be fine," Stick said, forcing out a shaky breath. "The Arslan Threshold will keep us alive."

He wasn't sure if he believed that. He wasn't even sure if Shadis and PP really understood. But they had no choice.

Shadis and Nakamura exchanged glances—then leapt.

Stick turned to follow, but PP was still frozen in place, his eyes locked on the rushing water.

"What are you doing? Come on!" Stick urged.

PP shook his head, barely whispering, "I can't."

The soldiers were closing in. Stick's heart pounded.

"We don't have time. Let's go!"

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PP kept muttering, "I can't," over and over.

Stick's throat tightened.

"Please, jump with me. I won't leave you here."

Nothing.

The guards were almost on them. Stick risked a glance down—Shadis and Nakamura had resurfaced, waiting.

"Look, they made it!" His voice was raw, desperate. "And you will too."

He grabbed PP's hand. The chains jingled. The big man's eyes snapped to Stick.

Stick gave him a small, warm smile. "Trust me."

PP's breath hitched. Then, finally, he leaned forward.

Stick pulled him into the jump.

A gauntleted hand clamped onto Stick's free wrist—but his fingers slipped through the grasp.

They fell. Wind screamed past his ears. The river surged up to meet them. Then—crash! Pain exploded through Stick's legs. Cold. Numb. Can't breathe.

The freezing water punched the air from his lungs, choking him. He kicked, flailed, struggled to surface. But PP was nowhere in sight. It clicked. PP can't swim.

Stick's chest clenched. No. No. No.

He signaled the others, but Shadis was already diving. The current was violent, throwing Stick in all directions as he searched for them. He glimpsed Shadis grabbing PP—but PP was too heavy. He thrashed wildly, panicking. Stick dove lower, his own breath burning. Move. Move. Move.

PP's face was locked in horror, panic stealing the last of his air. Shadis struggled. The weight, the current—it was too much. Then—PP stopped moving. Stick's heart hammered. No. No. Fuck, no.

Despite the choking, the burning in his lungs, Stick remained conscious. But PP was getting heavier. Shit, fuck, shit!

Stick fought with all his might, trying to pull PP toward the surface. His lungs screamed, his vision blurred. But he didn't let go. Then—something shifted. PP… floats?

Stick barely had the presence of mind to follow the dark shape rising with them. They broke the surface. Stick coughed out more water than he thought possible, lungs burning. The river swept them further downstream. The current spat them onto the bank like broken wreckage. Stick coughed violently, struggling to regain his bearings. He wheezed, forcing himself onto his hands and knees. When he finally did, he looked around in panic. What…?

Shadis was alive. Nakamura, too. But their faces were pale, frozen. Stick followed their gazes. PP lay face-down on the shore. And above him stood Hadvar.

The tension hung thick in the air. On the other side of the river, a growing crowd of peasants had gathered, their wary eyes fixed on the drenched and battered group. Suspicion lingered in their expressions, their hushed murmurs only adding to the unease.

"Get him up," Hadvar commanded. "We need to make a break for the tunnel."

Stick, still shivering from the freezing water, barely kept his teeth from chattering as he narrowed his eyes at him. "What are you doing here?"

Hadvar barely spared him a glance, his voice low. "Too many guards."

Nakamura tried to interject. "Hadvar, I don't understand—"

Hadvar cut him off, tossing him a tattered but familiar cape. "This was your mother's. Don't lose it again."

Nakamura caught it, momentarily speechless, fingers tightening around the fabric. Hadvar, meanwhile, stole a quick glance at the bridge in the distance before draping himself in Carnifex red. The armor materialized around him in an instant, deep crimson making him seem even more imposing.

"We have to move," he said. "If you want the big bot with us, do something. Now."

Stick barely heard him. He was fixated on PP's unmoving form. Shadis rushed over, his feet kicking up frozen sand as he dropped to his knees. Together, they turned the massive man onto his back. His body was limp.

"Oh no," Stick muttered, dread gripping his chest.

"Don't worry, Mr. Arslan." Shadis' voice was calm but firm. "We've had the occasional man overboard back in the day."

Without hesitation, Shadis placed his hands on PP's broad chest and began compressions. His arms, thin and wiry, looked almost comically small against the sheer mass of PP, but each press was strong and deliberate. Stick checked PP's status. [Life Points]: 0.

But he wasn't dead. He couldn't be. Stick could never forgive himself.

"Come on, big guy." Shadis continued, gritting his teeth against the strain.

"We don't have time for this," Hadvar snapped. "Nakamura, let's go."

Stick whipped his head up. "Where do you think you're going? You have to help us!"

Hadvar turned sharply. "I did my part. We're even. You're on your own now. Nakamura!"

"I-I—" Nakamura stammered, frozen by the overwhelming situation.

His eyes flicked between Hadvar and the steady rhythm of Shadis' desperate efforts. Stick felt the heat rising to his face despite the icy wind. He wanted to hit Hadvar—punch through that indifferent mask.

"Curses!" Shadis hissed, sweat mixing with the river water dripping from his hair.

"Nakamura!" Hadvar barked. "This is an order!"

"You leave him the fuck alone!" Stick surged to his feet. "He's not Carnifex anymore. Neither are you. Whatever authority you had doesn't exist!"

Before Hadvar could respond, a sudden, wet cough cut through the tension, followed by a violent sputtering of water.

PP was breathing.

"PP!" Stick gasped, dropping down to help. "You're alive!"

PP groaned weakly, rubbing his temples. "Yes… I think so."

Shadis let out a shaky laugh, clearly exhausted.

"I'm afraid time is against us today," he said, offering his hand.

PP took it, pushing himself upright with effort. "I understand. Thank you."

"Oh, please," Shadis said with a tired grin. "Just returning the favor."

The relief was short-lived. Stick turned, meeting the cold, faceless visor of Hadvar. But this time, Hadvar said nothing. He simply pointed toward the road.

"That way."

No more words were exchanged. They set off at a brisk pace, shivering in their soaked clothes as the frozen wind gnawed at them. The only sounds were their own ragged breaths, the crunch of snow, and the rhythmic clinking of Hadvar's armor ahead. Then, abruptly, Hadvar stopped. The group caught up, only to see why—there was a fork in the road.

Stick, breathless, frowned. "I thought you knew the way."

Hadvar shot him a sharp look. "That's not it, you idiot."

Stick rolled his eyes. "Then what is it?"

"We have to go left," Hadvar said. "But I have an idea."

Shadis, hands on his knees, looked up. "So? What is it?"

Hadvar smirked. "Follow me."

He veered right instead. The group hesitated.

"He's an intelligent man," Nakamura said, though the uncertainty in his voice was obvious.

Stick exhaled, still watching Hadvar warily. "Yeah. I know."

Idiot yourself.

They followed. After a few hundred meters, Hadvar suddenly veered left, diving into a thicket of bushes.

Stick stopped at the edge of the road. "Hadvar! What's going on?"

Hadvar reappeared behind the leaves and gestured. "Come on!"

One by one, they hurried into the cover of the undergrowth. Once everyone was concealed, Hadvar turned to Nakamura.

"Use a Wind Slash. Over there." He pointed toward the point where they'd veered off the road.

Nakamura blinked. Then, understanding dawned. "Oh."

He summoned his spear in a flash and with a swift motion, cut through the air.

A powerful gust swept across the road, snapping tree branches on the opposite side. Stick finally understood when Hadvar crouched down and inspected the ground in front of the undergrowth.

"Good," Hadvar murmured, satisfied.

Their tracks were gone. But the ones leading up to this point remained, making it seem like they had continued forward.

"This should buy us some time," Stick said.

"We cut through the treeline and only emerge when we need to. The tunnel isn't far. Don't leave footprints where they can be spotted," Hadvar commanded. "Understood?"

Everyone nodded. Hadvar turned towards the undergrowth. As he once again led the way toward the tunnels, Stick caught his own distorted reflection in the polished Carnifex red. Nakamura was right. Hadvar was intelligent. Maybe a bit too much.