CHAPTER 70: GRAVE THREAT AT IVORY HILLS

Unfortunately, there was no way for Vi, even with the powers of a full-fledged Acranist Master, to teleport over three thousand people along with a vast quantity of supplies across a distance that normally took seven days on foot. The cost in energy would’ve drained her soul dry. So, the only option was to march, steadily and without pause, until, at last, the outer walls of Redwood Town loomed in the distance, seven days later.

During those long days of travel, Kaelor kept a close eye on the slaves. But despite his efforts, he felt no progress. It was as if their massive numbers only deepened the shroud of despair around them. The sheer weight of their shared gloom made it nearly impossible to draw even the smallest spark of life or hope from their eyes.

They were not just silent, they were absent, distant from the world and from him. Still, there was a flicker of recognition when it came to food. They noticed the change in what they were given. But whatever comfort that brought was often dashed by the looming, awe-striking presence of Titan, who, despite not harming them, managed to frighten the slaves simply by being near.

And then they saw it.

Gasps escaped from cracked lips. Eyes, once dulled with suffering, widened as they took in the sight of the massive structure ahead. A wall. Not just any wall, but an imposing, incredibly sturdy-looking bulwark in a land they had believed abandoned by all that was civilized.

Osric the architect, a man well past his prime, with streaks of grey lining his beard and the soft sag of age tugging at his cheeks, momentarily forgot the weight of his chains. His breath caught in his throat as he beheld the wall. It was unlike anything he expected.

He had seen stone fortresses, cold, grey things bolstered with mortar and sweat. But this wall was made completely of wood. Not a single slab of stone supported it. Towering, polished, reinforced timber beams were fitted with such precision and grandeur that it made the slaves feel as if they had stepped into another age. The design spoke of mastery, of a builder with vision.

The skies were dark, a thick indigo curtain overhead, long past sunset. But the wall was far from shrouded in shadow. Dozens of braziers lit the ramparts, casting dancing flames across the woodwork. Two massive torches, bound to ropes on either side of the towering gate, burned brightly, illuminating the entire entrance.

"It’s His Lordship!" a voice called out from atop the wall.

The massive wooden gate groaned and creaked as it was pulled inward by a team of unseen hands. And then they emerged.

Osric’s heart skipped a beat.

Out of the widening gate came men, no, beings, bearing torches. They were not ordinary soldiers. Their hulking frames moved with lethal grace, each stride filled with power. Their knees bent the wrong way, like beasts, and their eyes gleamed in the firelight.

They wore dark gambesons beneath reinforced breastplates. Each had a massive saber strapped to his side, sheathed in scabbards that suggested both form and function. Their very presence screamed strength and ferocity. They looked like the kind of warriors that could tear through entire ranks alone and Osric, like many, could not tear his gaze away from them.

Screams suddenly erupted behind him. Panic rippled like lightning. Slaves twisted and writhed in terror, some attempting to flee. The chains connecting them caused chaos, and Osric was yanked off his feet, crashing into the dirt with a pained grunt as others surged in fear.

Those at the rear, seeing the surge of movement and the strange guards, assumed the worst. More screams. More panic.

Hound shot Kaelor a sharp glance, one that said there would be serious matters to discuss. Then his voice thundered.

"Guardsmen!"

The bellow tore through the air.

At once, the wolf-headed guards moved. Twenty veered left, twenty veered right, separating the slaves like water parting before rock.

The sight silenced the screams.

Their very march crushed resistance. Those who still dared to twitch under their chains found themselves staring into unblinking, beast-like eyes and towering bodies forged by flesh and fur. Whatever courage they’d summoned vanished. The urge to flee turned to resignation.

There was no escape. No hope. The moment they had seen Titan, a three-headed beast, they should have realized. Wherever they had arrived, it was not a sanctuary, it was a place of monsters.

Kaelor didn’t pause. Without breaking stride, he rode Titan toward his residence. His back was straight, but his mind was frayed. Exhaustion wore on him like a second cloak. Every decision, every step, now came with a mental toll he could no longer ignore. He needed rest, just a moment of peace.

Titan lowered his heads, allowing Kaelor to dismount.

As his boots touched the earth, a subtle chime echoed in his ears.

[Town Loyalty reduced to 40%]

Kaelor exhaled heavily. He already knew the source: the newly arrived slaves. But he didn’t panic. He knew better than to throw speeches or bribes at them just yet. Time would wear down their fear. Water that never ran dry, food without mold or maggots, shelter, safety, these would do what words could not.

Still, something gnawed at him.

Standing just in front of his door was Damien. Efficient as always. Beside him, Mildred gave a nod and slipped inside to make preparations for Kaelor’s rest.

"You should be asleep," Kaelor said, voice low and weary.

Damien offered a faint smile. "I was wrapping up the day’s records. Nothing fell out of place while you were gone, but..." he paused, the smile fading. "There’s something you need to hear."

Kaelor’s fatigue sharpened into attention. He remembered Hound’s warning look. "What happened?" His voice dropped into cold gravity.

Damien’s tone followed suit. "The Giant Bats launched another wave of attack on the Bloodstone Archers while they were clearing the cavern. Two archers were slain. We received word early this morning."

Kaelor’s eyes narrowed. "How?"

"I’m told a new type of bat emerged. It tore through two of the Bloodstone Archers before the others even had time to react. They barely escaped. If not for quick withdrawal, we would have lost more than a dozen."