I Woke Up In Another World As A Slave

He walked for quite some time until he heard pickaxe clinks again. He passed a group of miners who ignored him, so he moved on silently. Eventually, he reached another group of slaves. Despite the cave's cold depths, the men were shirtless, their rags strewn on the ground. Varyan's brother sat on them, while Varyan held the torch. The old man from before handed Jacoby a green stone. The men paused their labor, staring at him. The cave fell silent except for the distant clinks from further up the shaft.

"It's alright," Varyan said at last, "let him through."

He slowly passed the miners, pausing in front of the white-haired twin. The old man gave a hostile look. Mimicking the servant's bow he'd seen in the shanty town, he saw the old man relax. The slaves resumed work, the metallic rhythm filling the air again. Varyan nodded slightly, and he continued on his path. Minutes later, he found the fork and took the right shaft. Down here, holes in the ground were abundant, invisible without a torch. One pit seemed bottomless. The light didn't reach the bottom. I could've died down there.

He carefully navigated around the pit. His body was weary from the journey, and he maintained a steady posture to avoid stumbling. He slid slightly down a steep decline. The air thinned with every step, and soon he was coughing uncontrollably. This cave is way too deep! How is anyone able to work down here?

He knelt briefly, taking slow, calming breaths. Once settled, he stood and continued until he heard a voice.

"We didn't dig caves; we explored them!"

The narrow path lacked support beams, likely a recent excavation. At the edge of his torch's light, he saw PP and the slave with the long hair who'd given him breakfast.

The man continued, "Besides, when we mined for ore, we didn't have to use rusty pickaxes."

PP responded with a grunt, toiling with two pickaxes while the other sat on the ground. So that's Montgomery?

Montgomery noticed the torchlight. "Hey, put out the damned torch! We barely have enough air to breathe down here."

He rubbed the torch against the wall, extinguishing it. He blinked in the dark, waiting for his eyes to adjust. The soft clinking of pickaxes led him forward—then a voice cut through the dark like a knife. The men recognized him just in time.

"Hey Recruit, how's the uprising going?" Montgomery asked sarcastically.

He replied with a question: "Why aren't you working?"

"Well, I can't see a damn thing for once, and I don't have a pickaxe in hand, do I? How could I work in such a narrow space next to the big guy?"

The snark was audible over the clinking pickaxes.

"What should I do then?" he asked.

"Well, you might fit in beside him."

He attempted to move to where he had seen the large man, but a sharp pain made him wince. He'd stepped on something sharp, yelping in pain.

"Careful now, there are a few gems lying around. PP's found seven already." Montgomery's warning came too late.

Shit, I think I burst a blister.

"Is that why you gave him your breakfast?"

"You're an observant one." Montgomery clicked his tongue. "You'll learn to navigate the rules eventually. But you should really get to work now. Time's running out for your quota."

That guy is a piece of trash.

Another piece of the puzzle clicked into place. He wasn't sure what the full picture would be but knew it would be formed here, in the mine's deepest recesses.

"Eight," the big man said, tossing something that clinked as it landed.

What? Already?

He squeezed in beside PP and started hitting the wall with the pickaxe.

The air was stifling. With each swing, he struggled to regain his composure. The wall bore the brunt of his repeated blows, yet dizziness clouded his senses with every strike. It felt as though the entire mountain was pressing down on his lungs. Whether he was hitting a gem, he couldn't be certain.

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"It sounds different when you hit them. More of a 'ding' than a 'clank'," Montgomery informed him.

That didn't help at all.

If not for the journey's exhaustion, he might use the mine's cover to plot an escape with the others. But focus eluded him. A hazy thought flitted through his mind. My body has to get used to this. I need to get stronger. I need food. More gems mean priority at dinner. The others start before I even arrive back here. This whole back of the cave thing really slows me down.

"That's it!" Montgomery exclaimed.

"What?" he asked.

"That's a 'ding'!"

"Really?"

He prodded around the area he'd been striking. Indeed, there was a spot smoother than the rest. With a few more targeted swings, as precise as they could be, he wedged the pick's end between the smooth surface and the wall. After much effort, he dislodged the gem, which fell to the ground with a 'ding'.

"Yes! That's one down!"

A long, piercing whistle echoed through the cave. Turning, he saw light at the incline leading to the cave's entrance. Someone awaited them above.

"Well, Recruit, it seems you're wolf dinner now." Montgomery chuckled.

Fuck, we're leaving already?

Montgomery began packing the gems into his bags. He counted five for PP and five for himself. PP gathered their stuff and headed towards the light. The man at the top whistled again. Shit!

"Oh, what's this? You sly dog." Montgomery remarked. "It's your lucky day, Recruit. Seems you've made a friend."

Montgomery pressed something cold and smooth into his hand. A gem! Then another. And another. In the end, he had five in total. I can't believe it!

"Move, Montgomery," PP urged.

"Thank you! Thank you so much," he shouted.

The big man remained impassive and climbed the incline. His eyes welled up. Who would have thought such kindness lay beneath that hulking exterior?

He placed the gems into his sack and followed Montgomery out of the mine shaft, limping due to his injured foot. The waiting miner lit their torches, leading them from the cave. The others had already departed. As they ascended, breathing grew easier. Sunlight peeked through the exit. Upon emerging, the sun was setting, painting the sky a rich purple. The other slaves were already lined up in two rows, with Becket at the front on his horse. Reacher awaited at the opposite end, hand outstretched. The three men before him handed over their bags, and he tallied the contents. Meanwhile, they dropped their pickaxes in front of him. The Mace nodded, offering each a sip of water before they joined the others. PP received his four sacks to carry. He opened his sack for the gems, but–

The sack is empty.

"What? Nothing?" Reacher taunted.

"That can't be. I had five in here."

I don't understand. What's going on here?

The Mace walked over to him. Oh no!

"No, I swear I had five. I got-" he clamped his mouth shut.

I can't involve the others. What happened? Where are they?

"Five. I see," Reacher said, peering into the empty sack. "What's with the blood?"

He hesitantly lifted his foot to reveal the cut. Reacher motioned for him to raise it higher. As he complied, Reacher extended a finger. What is he-?

Pain shot through his body as the Mace jabbed his finger into the wound. He cried out, collapsing onto his back. Then—nothing. No pain. No wound. Just a warm scar where agony had bloomed seconds ago. He healed it?

He looked up. Reacher stood calmly, wiping his bloodied gauntlet. Smiling? No. Just clean. Efficient. Inhuman.

"Grab the pickaxes and move!" Reacher commanded Montgomery, who complied, albeit with an irritated glance his way.

What? That's it? What about the gems?

The men began marching once Reacher mounted his horse. What's his plan?

The trek back to the forest was uneventful, which concerned him even more. The Mace droned on from his horse, as if poised to strike at any moment. Reacher's gaze felt ever-present on his back. They traveled a good distance before he realized he had an inexplicable amount of energy, given the day's events. It must be the spell from earlier. Damn it! What's his goal?

Tension mounted throughout the walk as he struggled to decipher the Mace. Further confounding his thoughts, the wolves' carcasses from that morning were conspicuously absent from the road. PP and Montgomery seemed unbothered by their disappearance. He sensed Montgomery's frustration at having to labor with the pickaxes, but when he offered assistance, Reacher shut it down. There is something very wrong going on.

They journeyed the rest of the way under a heavy shroud of tension. An odd wish crossed his mind: he longed for another wolf attack, as it was a danger he could predict. The sun was dipping lower, and soon enough the manor's palisades came into view in the distance. They arrived at the manor under the flickering light of a few torches. The moon cast a dim glow on the defensive spikes as they were repositioned. Without uttering a word, the knights detached themselves from the slaves and swiftly headed to the mansion on the hill. They didn't bother retrieving the torches. Once they were out of sight, Montgomery hurled the sack onto the ground before him.

"By the Gods. What did you do?" he demanded.

"I don't know."

"Well, who does then? I certainly don't."

The men began to gather around them.

Montgomery continued, "But if there's one thing I know, it's that a yelling Reacher is far less frightening than a silent one."

A murmur rippled through their ranks.

"The dog's stopped barking. That can never be good," a miner remarked.

"I've never seen him like this," someone else added.

They focused their attention on him.

"He wasn't like this before we went into the cave," another chimed in.

Montgomery asked again, "What did you do?"

"I don't know. I really don't know. I just asked for some water, drank too much, and then the Sword knight slapped me."

The crowd grew restless.

"How do we know he's telling the truth?"

"Cut the crap!"

"He's been here one day and already causing trouble!"

"What is it? What did you tell them?" One man grabbed him by the neck.

"Hold your horses! If there's something he knows, we can use that to our advantage." Montgomery attempted to pacify them, but to no avail.

They weren't backing down. Other men closed in around them. There was no escape.

"Then he'd better tell us now, wouldn't you say?" The man tightened his grip on his throat.

I can't breathe!