Staring beyond the window’s freezing smudges with a keen eye, Lutiel kept shut. Watching as the trees around the mansion disappeared before new ones greeted his eyes, he listened to the quietude, being the sole person in the carriage.

  ‘It’s today, huh?’ Thinking to himself while slowly focusing downwards, his eyes eventually traveled towards the left arm resting upon a thigh. Scouring the jacket, the man started revealing the pale skin around his left hand before long. Pulling the sleeve up ever so slightly, he stared at the veiny wrist, swiftly going upwards.

  Gingerly, he took the glove off his left hand before clenching it into a fist. “Bler,” he whispered with the demonic tongue, squinting his eyes when the understanding of the word washed over him suddenly. ‘It’s like yesterday,’ he mused, only to put the matter away and focus ahead of him as a sensation of warmth wrapped around the skin,

  Biting his teeth without uttering a single groan, the area beneath his knuckles unveiled the feeling immediately. Going in the center, covering his little dark mole, a circle the diameter of two coins scarred itself within the flesh, the lines making up small grooves rapidly glistening with a red liquid.

  However, the blood simply stayed there, not spilling out in the slightest. With a high curved line meeting the upper half and a wide arch going through the legs of the former on the bottom portion of the circle, some unknown letter he couldn’t describe sat in the very middle.

  Glancing at the oath he had taken four days ago from the demon merchant, Lutiel couldn’t help but release a soft sigh when it started to dim out and the blood started drying out. ‘There is no going back now. Any mention of his colluding and I’m gone, huh?’ Thinking for a few moments in utter silence, the slave cocked his head back slightly, recalling their words.

  ‘Sheila, why did you do this? Why did you make all of them hate me? Please, just don’t let it actually be you,’ he muttered after the eyes closed, his eyebrows contorting ever so slightly. ‘No, what am I even thinking about? It can’t be. She died by own two hands, after all,” he said before a solemn breath escaped his mouth, finally glancing down at the oath anew.

  Engraving the image into his eyes, it stood within them for countless moments, to the point of the blood hardening completely. ‘I’m sorry, Zyponia, I guess promises aren’t for me,’ he wondered to himself, his eyes gleaming distantly.

  Still, his state didn’t stay that way for too long, finally voicing his tongue. “Blood,” repeating the same word as before, he saw the wounds from the oath reverting back at an decisive pace. The pale skin of his, along with bluish strands across the top of his hands, reappeared as though nothing ever happened. With no scarred tissues, he brushed his gloved fingers over the area before putting the glove back on.

  At the same time, Lutiel looked at the city walls outside of the windows, his eyes travelling for the guards stationed at the very top. Quickly however, the carriage moved further before obstructing his sight.

  Going through the same lines as usual, he was about to ignore the words. Though, swiftly glancing over with his eyes, Lutiel stared intently at the guard’s unchanging posture, only the lips giving way. “Kozs is the reisu dlar vider?” The armored demon asked, making him scrunch his face whilst trying to decipher the full meaning.

  Nonetheless, immuring in place, he heard another set of words fall about. “Geas are chod’yr to pokuc reca dlar Lady Zyponia,” said the coachman in the front, only adding to Lutiel’s working mind before the carriage started to move beneath the sound of gates raising themselves.

  And, quickly getting stuck on the words, the man couldn’t notice the changing surroundings. Unmoving in the internal expanse of his, he no longer glanced over the working slaves, his sight overshadowed by the buildings on both sides.

  Similarly, he took no notice of the demons they drove past, as well as the different streets. Remaining ruminating, the man could only escape once Ravier’s voice guided him.

  “We’re here,” said the demon, making him break from his reverie. Briskly standing up, he didn’t walk straight for the doors however. Watching the sidewalk near the buildings right before the market, his arms started moving once he saw it relatively empty.

  With a quick step, he closed the doors before heading towards the stands in the distance. Yet, he covertly strayed off towards the right side, getting closer and closer to the buildings before finally turning straight for the wall in front of him. Or rather, what should have been a wall.

  Staring at the dark, empty space sprawling out all the way to the next street, he promptly glanced at the short, brick walls protecting the stairs downwards on the right.

  Rattling against the alley, the slave eventually stopped in front of the stairs, glancing at the shadowy doors they led to. Tensing his breath, the man walked through the three steps before opening the doors, his ears met briskly with a dull noise coming from the dark horizon ahead of him.

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  Staring at the darkness flickering from the meek, pale yellow crystals on the walls, he walked through the brick-riddled space. And, without needing to tire his legs, his pupils portrayed another set of doors, this time, much more imposing. Reinforced with iron, the dark brown wood was additionally protected by the two armored demons standing on each side.

  “Show your oath,” the right one spoke out immediately before both of their faces turned towards the human, inspecting every move of his. Watching through their black scleras, the red veins scattered around the eyelids tensed as they saw him take the glove away.

  “Blood.”

  Yet, hearing him and witnessing the changes around his left hand, the cusped teeth of the previously talking guard showed again. “Come inside,” he spoke, making the slave nod in response.

  Instantly, the doors creaked underneath no one's movement, releasing the din it barely kept inside. Rushing out like a waft, the familiar words brushed Lutiel’s ears before his feet battled through. Closing once again as his body entered the dark shroud, the flickering of lights repeated itself in the short path ahead, one he fully walked through before even knowing it.

  Enlightened dimly, however throughout, the vast expanse of the short cellar made him look at it twice. He had already witnessed it a few days ago when they kidnapped him, however, it still made him wonder whilst looking at it. Walking through, countless gazes fell upon the man, which he easily reciprocated.

  A man with one of his eyes gouged out kept staring at him, sitting on one of the many barrels around the wall. Regardless, sharpening his sword, he swiftly took more attention around his weapon rather than the exotic, human slave.

  Yet, there weren’t many like him. More often than not, as he walked through the open space of the cellar-like structures, the people stopped doing their task to stare at him, doing so without stopping. Even as he went out of their sight, moving constantly ahead of him, their vision still lingered around.

  ‘It’s even more potent than that of the demons. How ironic,’ the man thought to himself before focusing on the table he was headed to. Surrounded by tens of well-equipped people, few of whom kept to themselves by wearing deep cloaks, he swiftly saw the familiar faces, whose looks at him brought further attention over.

  Coming closer all the way towards the large, round table, he finally stopped before the merchant and the leader of the place.

  “Alright, he’s here,” said the other Lutiel after turning around to his men, only for their interest to deepen even further.

  Feeling an eerily potent gaze falling from the side, the man of intrigue turned to it, looking at the bald man standing in deep brown leather armor, metallic plates covering his most vital areas. Quite burly in stature, he crossed his arms before a broken grin fell on his scarred face. “So he’s the one that ripped your mouth apart, huh?”

  Though, as the statement scattered through the space, the man’s light brown eyes couldn’t help but turn away from his sudden laughter. “Really? He looks like he’s never fought in a battle,” amidst the shrouding laughter, he spoke, only for the few around him to share the emotions.

  “Say whatever you want. You would have fallen even quicker than me,” the leader replied without batting an eye. Focusing around the man, he followed on. “And don’t even think of testing him right here. We have to talk things out.”

  “Tch,” a click of the tongue followed soon after, the man’s face no longer as jubilant. Taking on a slightly grim twist of eyebrows, he simply listened while another figure barged in with a glib tongue.

  “How about you inform us first before calling for the meeting? Why is a slave of a demon even allowed to come in here?” With ears covered by blond strands, the man donning leather solely started speaking. Even if his pale face conveyed softer than most there features, the well-built body of his made others shrink in comparison.

  “Why shouldn’t he be allowed?” This time, the demonic merchant spoke back, only fuelling the man’s awry presence. “He’s taken the oath, just like all of you did. There would be no way for him to reveal the hideouts.

  “He’s a slave of one of the demon lords. How are we supposed to know you aren’t playing us when you have a single horn?” The same man asked, free of emotions, the soldiers around him sharing his opinions.

  Yet, the demon merchant looked at him blankly, staring directly into the blue eyes for a few silent moments. “Don’t worry about that. I’ve already devised a brand that she couldn’t notice was faulty before. Zyponia won’t see anything about the oath either,” beginning to smile whilst talking, he shut the man quickly, making him take a step back before he tried to speak up.

  “Everything clear?” The leader asked suddenly, making the heads turn towards him. “I called all of you here precisely because of him.”

  “What? Then, what about the plan?” Raising his furrowed eyebrows faintly, the bald man asked, others following in his reactions.

  “We will talk over it, but I wanted to introduce him first. He will be one of our biggest fighting powers for it.”

  “He’s just got here, yet you treat him as one of us already?” Talking through the moans of indignation, the blonde man filled his face with puzzlement.

  “Precisely. He will create a distraction before we take over the mines, so it’s natural for him to be regarded highly of,” he kept speaking, despite the turning faces of the people gathered there. Looking to his left, the leader stared at the man for a brief moment. “Tell them your real name, if you even remember it,” he added.

  ‘The real one, huh? Should I use Kanthier? No, they must have heard of Zyponia using it.’ Musing whilst taking in all of the glances digging into him, the man waited for a while before parting his lips. “Thomas Mer,” he exclaimed, making the leader nod after a brief moment of hesitation.