I Woke Up In Another World As A Slave

"Calm down!" Montgomery shouted. He tried to separate them, but someone shoved him aside.

"Whatever it is, you just have to tell us." The man's grip tightened further. "Just tell us. Make yourself useful for once."

His head began to throb. His vision blurred. How am I supposed to speak like this, you asshole?

"Stop it!" he heard someone shout.

It could have been Montgomery, but he wasn't sure. His senses started to fade. Why are you doing this? I haven't done anything wrong!

His knees gave out. He hit the ground hard, wheezing, lungs clawing for breath. Around him, voices exploded into chaos…

"You wanna go, big man?"

"You know something we don't?"

The man who had just choked him lay on the ground beside him. Blood streamed from his nose, and he staggered as he tried to sit up. Behind him, he saw the towering figure of PP, ready to take on four men simultaneously.

"Bring it, you ogre!" one yelled.

PP was ready to throw punches, but none of the miners dared to make the first move against the big man, even though his hands were shackled. It was a back-and-forth dance of feints and attempts to punish a misstep. It was a stalemate. The first to act would lose. The man with the bleeding nose lunged at the big man from behind, but before he could attack PP, he grabbed the man by the ankle, making him fall again.

"Let go of me! The bootlicker has it coming." The man kicked him in the face to free himself, the dirt burning in his eyes. "Fucking Adventurer pets."

Hearing this, PP knocked the man trying to rise unconscious. As soon as he turned his back to the other miners, however, they pounced on him. One wrapped himself around the big man to restrain him, exploiting his limited movement due to the chains. The other two began punching him in the face and gut. The fourth struggled to wrest the sack containing pickaxes from Montgomery, who was still desperately pleading with them to stop. In the darkness and with dirt in his eyes, he could barely make out what was happening. We shouldn't be fighting like this! We have to stick together!

"Stop this madness at once!"

The slaves were separated. It was Varyan and the miners who had given him a torch earlier. They pulled the attackers aside, and PP repositioned himself next to him and Montgomery, ready to throw punches again. The three miners, larger than the other slaves, formed a barrier between the two sides of the conflict.

"You dare raise your hand against another miner? Have you completely lost your mind? What is this insanity?" For the first time that day, he saw Varyan truly angry. "This behavior is utterly unacceptable!"

The man with the bleeding nose regained his composure and, upon seeing Varyan, dragged himself over to the others without a word. The attackers stared at the ground like chastised children. They never dared to challenge Varyan's reprimand.

"You have brought shame upon the name of Blitz. I could have you keelhauled for this! If Sir Frost finds out…"

The man with the bleeding nose dropped to one knee. "I—I apologize, my Lord. It wasn't meant to—"

Varyan cut him off. "Don't waste your breath."

The other attackers also bowed. This doesn't feel right.

"You are to atone by carrying their load. Pick up the pickaxes, take them to camp, and clean them. You'll be the last to dine today. Am I understood?" Varyan's authority was unquestionable.

"Yes, my Lord," the men replied in unison.

Without lifting their heads, they picked up the sacks and torches, their gazes fixed firmly on the ground. Varyan signaled for the slaves to move towards the camp. When the attackers had departed, PP finally lowered his guard. It was evident that he didn't trust or follow the authority of the Blitz family like the rest. He only adhered to the Adventurer's commands. Adventurer pets, huh?

He looked over to Varyan, who somberly observed the miners heading home. And how does that make us any different from being a Lord's pet?

"Little goblin shits," Montgomery muttered as he adjusted his rags.

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Varyan came over to assist him in standing. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," he replied, rubbing the dirt from his eyes, "I think so."

"I'm glad," Varyan's voice softened. "Please, I need you to forgive them. They're frustrated and starving."

"Aren't we all?" Montgomery asked.

"They're exhausted and haven't seen their families in years. Gods know if they're even alive. Day by day it becomes more difficult to maintain order," Varyan explained, "It doesn't help that the Adventurers only know violence."

"It's not wolves, it's men," the big man commented.

Varyan nodded. "It is men indeed. However, it doesn't have to be. It's the Adventurers who tore us apart."

Montgomery scoffed. "With all due respect, my Lord, your grandfather knows that not to be true. We've had infighting before the Adventurers. Just ask the Westerner."

Montgomery pointed to PP. Westerner? How far west are we talking about here?

"Let's leave the past in the past, shall we?" Varyan smiled again. "I believe dinner is ready. You can already smell it."

He hadn't noticed it before, but Varyan was right. A hearty aroma was in the air. His mouth began watering almost immediately. But who had the time to cook it that quickly? Is Cadmun already back?

"I don't want to be the last in line this time," he said.

Varyan chuckled and contentedly waved for them to follow him.

"Whatever," Montgomery sounded like he had wanted the discussion to continue.

The four of them quickly found their way to the cooking spot where the men eagerly awaited their share. The girl serving the meals with a big smile was dressed in oversized garments. It was the red-haired girl he had seen earlier that morning. The men were delighted to see her.

"Lydia," Varyan called as he got closer, "you were late this morning."

The girl dropped the bowl and ladle she was holding to bow. The men surrounding the cooking pot made way for them to pass.

"My Lord," she said, "last night I found out that there's a hole in the roof of my shack as it was raining inside. I had trouble sleeping."

"Are you all right?" Varyan inquired.

"Luckily, the Baron didn't sleep well either and my tardiness wasn't noticed." She straightened up. "I saw Sir Frost being dragged away to the Slaughterhouse."

"Yes, it's quite unfortunate."

The words hung in the air. Only the bubbling of the stew could be heard.

"Is that why you're here?" Varyan finally asked.

"Yes, my Lord," she answered, "I told Timothy about it and he took care of my cleaning duties, so I can cook dinner for you."

He took a closer look at the girl's freckled face. She had fair skin and thin lips formed into a benevolent smile.

An angel.

His rumbling stomach agreed.

"Thank you," Varyan said, "would you be so kind as to serve those three first?"

She nodded and smiled at the three of them. When her gaze turned to him, she hesitated for a moment before turning back to the cooking pot to serve them. Disgruntled murmurs could be heard from the miners who had arrived first. Varyan simply raised his hand to silence them. Clearly, it was his decision to make amends for the fight earlier. Lydia poured some stew for Montgomery and PP. When it was his turn, she paused for a moment.

"You don't see a lot of redheads. Although, yours is more of an orange. Where are you from?" She served his meal while she waited for an answer.

"I don't know," he shamefully answered.

She gave him the bowl with a puzzled look.

"Then you should ask my father. Although he doesn't look like it now, he used to be the only red-haired man in the east. It's so rare that he kept a journal of every other red-haired person he met."

A spark of hope energized his fatigued body.

"Really? Where can I find him?" he asked excitedly.

"Well," her face turned a bit sour, "he's in the Slaughterhouse right now."

The words stung uncomfortably. But he couldn't stop himself from asking. The words came out automatically and with a huge amount of disbelief.

"Cadmun is your father?"

She smiled again. "Doesn't look like it, does it?"

He felt a tap on his shoulder. It was Varyan.

"You're holding up the line. The men are growing restless."

"I'm sorry," he said as he stepped to the side.

Lydia shifted her attention to the others.

Varyan reassured him: "You'll have time to figure everything out. Get some food and rest."

"Thank you, my Lord," he said before gobbling up the first mouthful of carrots and potatoes.

"Please, Varyan is enough. You're not one of my subjects. It's my brother you should be formal to."

Right, who is his family anyway? What's their relation to the Baron?

He strainingly swallowed the food before speaking: "About your brother… I mean Lord Blitz—"

"We'll have plenty of time to talk about it tomorrow," Varyan interrupted him. "Let's get some firewood before sunrise."

"Okay," he said before taking another mouthful of food. It seems to be a bigger topic.

Varyan pointed to one of the tents near the cooking pot. "This is Cadmun's tent. Settle in there for tonight while he is gone. We will find a solution tomorrow. Now is the time to rest."

With his mouth full of delicious food, he could only nod in agreement. Varyan laughed. Then he waved goodbye and disappeared into the far end of the slave camp. The old man with the scruffy beard probably waits for him with his meal.

He looked around camp and saw PP eating his dinner in front of his tent alone. He took a step in his direction, but a whistle caught his attention. Montgomery signaled him to sit down beside him.

"Leave him be," Montgomery said, "He won't talk. He never really does. He likes to keep to himself. Today was the most words I've heard out of his mouth in the last couple of years."

"He saved me twice today. Actually three times now that I think about it. Shouldn't I go thank him?" he asked.

"As far as I can tell, you're on his good side now, but you can never really tell with that man. Don't spoil it by getting on his nerves."

Reluctantly he agreed: "Understood."

They sat there for a while, eating dinner in pondering silence. Even though he didn't quite get it, the big man had his own way of navigating his life as a slave, and it involved being strong on the outside and inaccessible on the inside. A recital of Varyan's words went through his head: Pull your weight at work, don't get in the way of the others, and always do what the Adventurers say. Especially the Baron.

If he wanted to acclimate to his life here and get support from the others, then those were the words to live by.