Aimless Ascension

I was really growing thicker skin. I hadn't squirmed or spasmed on the floor after getting lashed a couple of times today. Well, it was mostly to do with my previous experience. I anticipated how terrible it would hurt, and I welcomed it, gritting my teeth and clenching my jaws.

That did something. Nope, it did not decrease the pain, but someone I was able to endure more. Humans and their heads, weird business.

Anyway, let's not talk about violence, though I must remind you, my back only knew one sensation that day after getting the lashing. You could probably guess what it was. Even at the minutest movement, my back ached at the reminder of that horrifying agony.

I got about a couple of hours of unmoving rest in my room and used that fully, laying like a corpse on the floor. If not for the familiar knock on my door, I might even convince myself that I was a corpse.

"It's open," I mumbled, still unmoving from my spot. I hoped they were able to hear his mumble.

About a few seconds later, two figures entered his quarter with uncertain looks in their eyes.

"I'm alive," I told them, lifting my arm up.

It wasn't the beautiful dark-skinned woman with Cameron today, but the other man—Number 196—whom we met together with the pretty woman. I had some impressions of this guy. Well, what I think of him? A little immature fanboy, and that was it. That was my whole impression of him.

"Can you move?" Cameron asked, scurrying closer to help me up.

Before I could answer, the other person decided to open his mouth. "I tell her this will be a waste of effort. Look at you now. Bard can't even stand up after getting a few lashes."

"Shut it, Stan. Nobody wants to listen to you." I told him straight as Cameron helped me up.

Number 196 grunted, but remained silent, watching with his eyes boring at me, full of disdain. I don't think he got the reference there. A black guy that wasn't a fan of hip-hop and rap music. Hmm, seemed unbelievable. Or he could be slow.

"How far do I have to go?" I asked, excusing the pain in my head.

Cameron turned to the other guy for the answer.

The jaded slave sighed after a while. "In your current state, it'll take thirty minutes at the very least," he said. "But you don't have time to spare, so grit your teeth and clench your jaw, 'cause we're moving."

And so we moved out of my quarter in the cover of the night. Although it wasn't completely forbidden to move around during the resting time, we still moved in stealth.

Well, Guards were fine with slaves fucking around in some corner, not making too much ruckus, but they absolutely couldn't endure slaves sitting together and conspiring.

I mean, what were they even afraid of? Slaves working together to conspire and overthrow them? That wasn't even a possibility. Perhaps it would have been if there were at least a dozen slaves like A'caen. That guy alone brought down four guards on his own and seemed to have the energy left to do more.

However, that was not to be. The slave collars left him sprawled and powerless on the ground. And that could happen to every one of the slaves if the guards desired it.

Walking was painful, but I managed, thinking of the doctor I would meet who would help me recover my palm. Then I wouldn't have to be so useless anymore.

Number 196 led us through the turns and twists to a deeper region of the mine where Guards didn't even venture unless they absolutely had to. It was one of the areas that had been completely mined as stone splinters and debris spread all over. There weren't any of those lights. We moved through the darkness. Slow and steady.

I was a bit startled at the sheer space of it. It should have taken thousands of slaves and years of effort to pull all the magic crystals out.

"This way," said 196, as he led through methodical pathways. After moving for a couple of minutes more, we came to a dead end. "Wait a second."

Number 196 picked up a stone and started hitting the stone wall precisely in an enigmatic rhythm.

"Passcode," a muffled voice said from the other end of the stones, alerting me completely. The tone was rough and rigid, and it took me a while to understand.

I turned to Cameron to find he wasn't that surprised. Was the former accountant here before?

Most likely, considering he seemed to have some way to contact them and that was not through meeting directly.

Anyway, Number 196 uttered the passcode: "Poisonlily, 12072019."

A minute later, the enormous block of the stone wall opened up to a door and behind them stood a round man, half a metre taller than me. I was dwarfed by his presence and even considering if he was a slave or not. The familiar slave collar on his neck provided confirmation for me. He was a native. It was too easy to figure that out, his red skin and size were evident enough.

The giant slave watched us for several seconds as if making sure of our entry and then left us to our devices, proceeding to take care of the door.

Number 196 led us to enter as the stone door closed after us. The huge man closed it by himself, pulling some levers.

I swallowed and turned towards 196. "12072019," I repeated. "Is that a date?"

Number 196 turned to me, but decided to keep his silence.

"The date you're summoned to this realm?" I asked again. And like before, the tall dark man didn't even consider answering my question. However, I wasn't just taking pain as my company. "Huh, that passcode was elementary, I wonder--"

"Shut your mouth and keep walking," said 196 coldly, cutting me off completely. His tone suggested I wouldn't want my mouth running wild in this place.

I turned my head in the direction of the giant man at the stone gate and swallowed. I picked up my pace and joined them to meet the doctor.

On the way, I hadn't met that many people. There were a handful of people. Some really were fucking in some corners here, some drinking whatever alcohol their measly slave earnings bought them, and the rest were doing their own thing.

After a moment, a familiar figure joined them. The usual partner of 196 wasn't in her slave attire now, but then again, it wasn't anything extravagant either. Fair cloth, hiding most of her skin, unlike when she was working, where she barely had a blouse and underclothes to hide her beautiful and bountiful parts.

She was drinking something as she held onto the cult with both of her palms. It wasn't alcohol; I learned when she got closer, though it had a thick scent to it.

"Interested?" she asked, finding him sniffing off her drink. She had a curious look in her eyes.

"What is it even?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Poison," she answered, "but don't worry, it doesn't have much effect on men."

I furrowed my brows.

"It's just a contraceptive," the beautiful woman said as she moved on, leaving me completely dumbfounded on the back.