Shield Vessel Rewrite

by WriterForU

Under mysterious circumstances the Cardinal Shield Hero is placed into the body of a sickly slave, Atla Fayon as she is tended to by her brother Fohl.

2. Chapter 2

This story is inspired by Journey of the Shield Tanuki By Thebobman6059.

---

"I suppose that narrow's down your purchases." Beloukas grumbled as he fumbled through a few worn parchments on the surface of a large wooden desk, it spanned almost his height in its length and about half in its breadth. Well okay, it wasn't that big but it was a sizable amount for the stubby man.

He stared attentively at the ink written on the parchments as though he was in deep thought, "Well I see, there are a few in your price range. Actually, that's an understatement seems like most of the shop is on sale here." The portly man clicked his tongue before craning his head upward at a taller individual positioned behind the desk, "But that's not a surprise this place is where I keep all the worthless ones."

Beloukas pressed his gloved fingers down on the parchment, driving it towards the man opposite him, "Sorry about the legibility of the parchment, though its quality poor matches most everything in the tent. You'd be hard-pressed to find a slave that doesn't have any chronic illness or mental defect." The other furrowed his eyebrows at Beloukas,

"It is not like you to describe your products in such a negative fashion." The man commented, keenly observing Beloukas' quite frankly peculiar behavior. In response, Beloukas laughed; readjusting his monocle that sat crookedly on his face.

"Take it as a token of respect from one merchant to another." He answered cheekily, a wry grin spread across his face, "I'm only saying this, to be honest, you'd have better luck elsewhere." He tapped his gloved finger against the desk in a rhythm while waiting for a reply from the merchant.

He smiled kindly, a fierce boredom in his eyes contradicting his mask of happiness, "Let's see what you have got." He stared at the sheet for a great wild before meeting the slaver's gaze once more, "I see fault in your logic, my friend. There are plenty of beast-men suited for competition use here." This statement, caused Beloukas to chortle even harder than before.

"As I've said all the beast-men here are either chronically ill or mentally insane. You'd have to be to purchase one." He mocked, shoving his arms around his waist to cope with what he thought was a hysterical comment, "Perhaps you may try another one of my residences in one of the underground arenas."

Keeping his composure the other man stood up straight, the smile on his face disappearing to be replaced with a frown, "You misunderstand me Beloukas." His voice was much more stern and serious than before, "I'm not purchasing them to win. They are being bought purely for the entertainment of an audience."

While Beloukas didn't drop the grin on his face, he lean in closer in intrigue, "Oh, do tell." The other merchant keep his stern gaze focused on him, he paused for a moment. Just staring the fat slaver in the eyes, it made him feel quite uneasy by the way he was staring at him: staring through him.

"I'm not inclined to tell you anything." He responded quite simply. Once again he paused as he surveyed the contents of the table, observing and glancing at each of the dirty parchments, "May I have a look at that one there please." He asked, pointing to a parchment on the far side of the desk. Beloukas followed the man's line of sight to his point of interest.

The man dressed in the ringmaster's uniform skimmed through its contents quickly before snatching it up into his grasp, "It is nothing important, it's just the cost of certain articles around the tent." He brushed it off lightly.

"I for one do not like this unprofessional attitude I'm being presented with. If it is the cost of the slaves' treatments I must get a firm grasp on that knowledge no matter how little their lives will continue for." He pressed on, not giving up any iota of information that he found to be necessary for him to know.

Beloukas could tell this merchant's mind wouldn't be changed regardless of what he had to say, he could tell just by looking at him he was as stubborn as a bull, "Very well." he obliged begrudgingly; handing the parchment over to the other merchant, who in response extended his hand out to receive it.

The man pondered it for a long while, his eagle eyes scanning its faded surface like a hawk, "It seems that a large portion of treatment has been funneled into a slave named Atla", He tapped at the portion of the paper, presumably where her name was. He looked up from the parchment, his beady eyes gazing at me, "Does this one mean something to you?"

Beloukas didn't respond, instead opting to bore his stare into the parchment in question, "Because I see no reason for you to waste so much on a Slave, if she was significant to you personally then she wouldn't be in shackles at all..." He continued, he walked forward toward the portly man, "Which begs the question, why to pay so much for a slave at all? It says here that she is only Level 1, not only that but she is a ten-year-old."

He placed the parchment back down on the table, and he swiveled it back to face Beloukas, "Look at it." He demanded.

Beloukas looked a slight bit shaken up, though only slightly, only to a keen eye would you spot symptoms of anxiety in him. He swallowed a lump in the back of his throat, "I think you'll find that information is out of date, I have since cut funds from Atla's treatment." He reassured.

"You are deflecting my question. Why pay for her treatment at all?" He interrogated.

"I do not see why this is relevant to your purchase of my products." Beloukas retorted, returning the offending parchment to the pile. The other extended his hand across the table, hesitantly Beloukas did the same meeting halfway and sharing a somewhat amiable handshake.

The man cleared his throat, "I apologize for my intrusions on your privacy, it was not my intention to cause offense." He wore his guilt on his sleeve as he spoke, "...Shall you show me your beast-men?" Beloukas nodded his head, withdrawing his hand he grinned a dimmer smile than before.

"Very well. Follow me"

The two merchants traversed through the labyrinth of cages before stopping in an isle towards the back of the tent, stacked high, arching into the roof of the tent were a multitude of different cages. Each one was smaller than the last as you ascended the stack, and each one producing a foul and vile odor. "Well, this is it." Beloukas stated, leaning on his cane with one hand while signaling to the enclosures ahead of them with a sweeping gesture with the other.

"I think this will do nicely." The man said, dropping down to the lowest level of cages, into a crouching position. He gently rubbed the cage bars causing the slave the iron-held prisoner to leap up at him, attempting to claw at his face. Though it was a frightful display the man stayed firm in his stead, refusing to move. Then following this attempted attack came the sight both men were familiar with: the violet electricity.

It blanketed him in a cover of pain, forcing him to retract his hand from between the bars, however, the merchant didn't him. Instead, the customer gripped him by the scruff of fur that jutted out from his chest, forcing him to stay still.

"Look at me." He commanded in his monotone voice, disdain dripping its way into his speech, "Remember this feeling. Because if you don't, you will not enjoy what will follow under my ownership." The merchant stared into the beast-man's dilated eyes, it let out a howl of pain before the merchant let go of him: promptly ceasing the electricity.

Beloukas giggled to himself, "Oh, that was magical. I feel all tingly inside, you, sir are the perfect client." He let out a squeal as he did an excited little dance on the spot.

"I'll tell you what, how about a special offer just for you? Buy them in bulk now and I'll give you fifteen percent off." He said, the other man stood up and turned to face him, his height towering over Beloukas. He nodded his head in acknowledgment.

"This one seems to be in good condition." He observed, "May I check the others as well?" He asked, Beloukas simply gestured to the other cages around him,

"Be my guest."

A good hour had passed, and the stoic man had inspected each of his potential purchases, none of which he could find any fault with. "All seems to be in order." He declared, smiling at the Slaver, "Thank you, my friend." Then he paused, "Before we shake hands do you mind if I browse your selection for a bit longer?"

"Not at all." Beloukas responded simply.

"You are too kind." He responded.

He through the isles of the tent, but nothing grabbed his attention. No cage had kept his attention for more than a few seconds before deeming them unfit or unworthy of much. It hadn't taken long for him to move toward the very back of the tent, still the same as everywhere else in the tent.

The man ummed and ahhed to himself as he proceeded to bulldoze his way through the remaining cages, one contained a wolfman with a broken arm and leg that despondently stared at the floor not willing to make eye contact with him. The next was a cage that contained a boy, he was young, on his body many bruises and cuts had been dealt to his body, and a pair of rabbit ears that drooped down either side of his head, having become submissive to gravity: as if all hope had been drained from them.

Still though not enough to grab his intrigue, then there was one cage left, it was some distance away from the other cages; it was somewhat obscured by the muted torchlight though not enough to completely cover it in a veil of darkness.

Draped over it was a thick piece of tarp that concealed whatever or whoever was underneath it, "It's better to be thorough. " He reasoned.

Pulling it back the cover revealed a bizarre sight to the man. The floor was two children, he assumed they were related due to the distinct features they both carried. The salt and pepper colored hair along with a similarly colored tiger tail and ears.

The younger girl of the two was hunched over her brother both of them pass out in a rather bizarre fashion. She was covered in a sea of bandages all over her body, only her face and an unraveled section of her hand allowed her skin to be visible.

They were both extremely pale, due to lack of sunlight and both were practically skin and bones. The man observed that the uncovered hand of the girl showed practically all of her skeletal structure.

The sheer abundance of bandages and wraps the girl had was quite frankly absurd to the man. He wondered if she could even breathe beneath that, "This must be Atla." He reasoned. His eyes turned to her brother, "And… this must be your brother."

A hand quickly leapt into his line of sight quickly covering the tarpaulin back over the cage. "I'm afraid they're not on sale."

"Is that Atla?" The man asked, turning toward him. The slaver nodded he shook his finger to show his discontent, "I had no idea that they were such a type of Demi-human." He said,

"Are they rare or something?" Beloukas asked, and the merchant nodded.

"Yes, yes they are. But not in a good way, if you're wondering if they'll fetch a better profit don't count on it. They are not well-liked among groups of Demi-humans." He stated, he chuckled a bit, "I've heard some of them consider them to be a bit of a bad luck charm after the Siltvelt-Melromarc war."

Beloukas sucked his teeth, his eyes focused on the crouched form of his would-be customer, "I have no interest in selling either. The girl is on her way out and the boy... well he is a very good source of revenue." He explained to the Slaver, he just laughed at Beloukas. It wasn't a malicious laugh but more of a playful one.

He peeped once more under the tarp before Beloukas slapped his hand full of the cover away. The customer smiled warmly at him once more, "This one is a fighter, isn't he? Judging by the cuts on him he was recently in a brawl wasn't he?" Beloukas looked uneasy once more, him being read once again by his the other man.

"You'd be correct on that assumption." He conceded.

"Then why if he is as good as you say not fully healed?" He questioned, his tone slightly more serious than before, "If he were a good source of income then why isn't he out fighting now?" The man stressed his words as he spoke, almost like a parent scolding them for misbehaving.

"He's too well known for now, I can't risk it without him being-" The Slaver started,

"Being killed? He is a Hakuko you know? No one, most certainly not a trader will forget his face." The man didn't raise his voice yet he entirely commanded the room, "He's as useful as a white elephant- which is what he practically is."

The man took a brief pause allowing the portly man to absorb the information before continuing, "If you were smart you'd sell him immediately and get your money's worth. Because if not, you're paying for a Slave that won't be able to fight without getting assassinated." He pressed onwards.

Beloukas looked inquisitively at the man, he took a step forward to get a better look at the man, "And what would you do with these two? I mean if they are as useless as you say they are." The merchant rose from his crouched position, he grabbed him by the shoulder in an assuring way.

"You misunderstand me, my fights are entirely self-contained, I can provide assurance that no one will try and assassinate him. I am doing this out of a token of respect, you and I both know that you can never enter him into another competition without him being killed." He reassured him, "Think of it as a kind gesture for these products I'm purchasing. I'll take this white elephant off your shoulders." He smiled once again at the portly man, he extended his hand out to the shorter individual.

Beloukas however didn't move. He just stared at his customer's outstretched palm, and he sighed.

---

Fohl sat slack-jawed beside the limp body of his unconscious sister as he just stared nervously while his mind, still catching up with his surroundings. His ghostly pale hands were shaking viciously, and so were his legs; in fact, his entire body was trembling in some kind of frenzy. Without even realizing it his breathing also quicked into shallow breaths, and his lips danced erratically as if trying to form a coherent sentence that wasn't incoherent babble.

The boy's mind may have briefly calmed but his worry had come back just as soon as it had dissipated, this time even greater. His disheveled tail smacked against the cage's dented interior continuously and relentlessly, this motion increasing in intensity within a matter of seconds.

Suddenly he snapped out of his repugnant haze as the pain his extra appendage felt became too much. As he came to he made a conscious effort to breathe in and out, in doing so his mind had too slowed down though only by a little.

He balled his hands into fists as he tried to grab ahold of himself, his knuckles transforming into a somehow paler pigment.

Though his efforts bared some fruits as his mind began to think straight once more. Shifting his eyes around the cage his gaze returned to the scattered bowls only an arm's width away from him, sitting within the bowls lay some of the refuse of the slop that once occupied them.

Going unobserved by him before, sitting in one of the bowls lay a small wooden spoon, it was of poor quality and crudely carved into something that resembled a spoon but still, it was a spoon nonetheless. Its body was caked in slop, taking a hold of the object he began gathering together all the slop into a single bowl. After a few minutes of scrapping and fiddling Fohl had pooled together a good few spoons full of 'food'.

Tilting her head up Fohl carefully fed the food to Atla, being extra cautious to make sure she didn't choke on it. After a few moments, he had successfully administered the substance.

On the last spoonful, a few drops flooded over the side and fell onto her arm. Grasping at his sleeve he went to go and wipe the mess from his sister's bandages so as to not get them too dirty, however, the food spilling had seemingly vanished into thin air, instead of expecting to see the muck he was greeted by a small metallic pentagonal-shaped shield, in its center an opulent emerald gem glowed brightly before dimming to a darker hue of green.

A wave of intrigue struck the boy, accompanied by this a feeling of safety gently washed over him; it was as if having the emerald eye of the shield stare into him gifted a feeling of comfort. Fohl unconsciously touched the green orb, and the feeling of peace seemed to magnify exponentially within an instant, he was surprised by how smooth its surface was, its quality had surely seen supreme craftsmanship. Its surface was the smoothest thing he had ever felt.

After hovering on the gem for a few more tranquil moments he lifted his hand from it begrudgingly. To the boy's bewilderment, the gem seemed to dimly illuminate, the glow dancing in its own gentle tune; he could have been imagining it but it felt like it was speaking to him.

He didn't know what to make of it.

Not only the buoyant sparks in the shield but also the entire shield itself. No sort of shield should be in a slaver's den, let alone one of such high quality.

Entranced by its ethereal glow once more he reached to grasp the shield, similar to the gem its surface too was polished even metallic almost identical to the gemstone. Its surface emanated a small warmth, as he grabbed hold of it he attempted to pick it up to examine it.

Along with raising the shield into the air so did he raise his sister's ghostly, skeletal arms. There were no straps attached to the shield, no leather, no metallic not even any wooden handles allowed it to bind itself to Atla's forearm.

He stared at it, bewilderment festered in the back of his mind. It was as if an invisible string pulled the girl's arm like some kind of puppet and puppet master.

Setting the shield down once more he sat in silence for a few moments contemplating what to do with this information.

'Where did it come from?'

"What are you doing here?"

It was a puzzling mystery, how a shield ended up latched onto his sister- especially an enchanted shield remained a mystery to him. Fohl thought he should have harbored some level of concern due to the mysterious item's appearance but instead, he felt more content- more secure strangely enough.

He looked inquisitively at the shield, the boy's calculating eyes scanned over its form.

《 APPRAISAL 》

《 Atla Fayon》

《 Demi-human》

《 Class:?》

《 Class:? (EXP: ?/?)》

《 Health:?/?》

《 MP: ?/?》

《 Attack: 1 [?] Magic:?》

《 Defense: 15 (?) [?] Magic:?》

《 Magic defense:? (?)[?] Magic:?》

《 Agility:?/p》

That was odd he was sure he went to appraise the shield, Fohl's eyes scanned over the information.

He sighed to himself.

He wasn't going to have another go at that spell for a while, not having his status replenished by a potion served to be to his detriment: he didn't have the strength in him to cast another.

Even if he did the boy doubted it would tell him anything, his knowledge of magic was barebones anyway. The only thing he managed to decypher was his sister's attack and defense ratings, which wasn't very helpful considering she wouldn't be doing either.

Wait.

Glancing back at her stats once more he saw that her attack and defense values had changed,

'I didn't think her attack was that low...' He thought, 'Nor did I think her defense was that high.' He returned his gaze back to the shield, 'Well I guess that explains the defense status, what happened to her attack...?'

Could it have been her illness taking a greater toll on her body? He didn't know how long she could go without any sort of remedy before sustaining permanent damage to herself. How much pain she must be in?

Could he have prevented this? Could all of this have been avoided if he had been better if he had worked harder?

He placed his gaunt hand over her forehead, sweeping aside the rouge strands of hair out of the way. It radiated a burning heat, it was unnaturally hot, he'd never seen his sister in such a condition before. Truth be told it scared him, for what felt like the first time in his life he didn't know what to do.

She shivered in her bandages, her teeth chattered rapidly as she broke out into a cold sweat. The conflicting symptoms of her fever perturbed him, what was he to do? Fohl's eyes scanned across the cage floor erratically, there was no medicine within the cage, nor was there food or drink.

Fohl grasped the coarse iron bars of the cage, he shook it with all his might in a futile attempt to break it, "Hey, you fat fucker where are you!?" He screamed, "Where have you gone, I thought you like mocking me you coward, where have you gone!?" The emotion which had started out as anger had begun to turn away, instead in its place desperation reared its ugly head; it began to flood into his voice: and then it began to gnaw at his mind.

The Hakuko couldn't help it, "...Please I need your help..." His spark of anger had been extinguished as quickly as it had come.

All thoughts and ideas that raced across his mind found themselves put to a halt as each idea was shut down with the growing realization that was dawning upon the boy.

That this time there wasn't anything he could do.

The Slaver had abandoned him, he'd gone and taken some other poor slave to fight for him. Fohl didn't know if they would be as lucky as he himself was, Fohl would be oblivious to whether or not the child had survived.

And it was his fault, had he not been defeated then this all could have been avoided. That single thought began to engulf his conscience: eating away at him.

As if on instinct Fohl found himself perched over his sister's vulnerable body. Wrapping his arms gently around his sister, coddling her, his defeated eyes just staring downward at her distressed facial expression. Sometimes he wished he could take on the burden of her ailments; to give her a moment to breathe, a moment to live once more.

The boy's gaze stayed unwavering, time slowly trudged by him; seconds stretched into agonizing eternities.

After who knows how long he noticed his sister's eyes begin to flutter gently, and her erratic breathing began to steady itself. While she still exhibited symptoms of her illness her body seemed to have become more sedated. Her endlessly chattering teeth had almost ground to a halt: almost.

Fohl nearly allowed himself to grin but quickly stifled that action. It wasn't the first time this had happened, Atla was stubborn and always tried to put on a brave face for him: perhaps it had become so engraved in her psyche that she did it subconsciously.

Gradually her eyes began to lever themselves open, revealing faded ocean blue hues that seemed to stare straight right past him. It was the first time in a long time since Atla had opened her eyes, with her glazed-over orbs she watched the cage ceiling which was obscured by a veil of abyssal black where the muted torch light couldn't reach.

She opened and closed her dried, cracked mouth as if she was trying to say something, one of her cocooned arms on where the shield sat gripped at her shaggy dress which covered her stomach, her nails digging deep into the fabric as she clutched it as tightly as she could.

So too did her other arm follow suit, though her strength soon failed her, as it always did. Her arms dropped back to the ground; the mysterious shield made a light clanking sound as it collided with the floor.

'No.'

That was all Fohl could garner from his sister's mouth movements; he was rather rusty when it came to being able to discern what a person was trying to say with just mouth movements alone. But this time he was almost certain it was what she had been trying to say.

The boy could see her quivering lips as she tried to force her mouth open.

"Save your strength Atla..."

Fohl's words seemed to go completely unnoticed by his sister, finally, after a minute's struggle she uttered,/p

"It's so dark."

---

It's been a few hours since Atla woke up, I think. I... I don't know what's changed in her... All of a sudden she just began crying- I've never seen her in this state before- what am I supposed to do?

I never expected this kind of this to happen- had her condition worsened?

Even if it had... I feel as though she'd have done her best to conceal it. Maybe all this time in the cage has finally gotten to her... I just don't know how I can comfort her. I've been by her side ever since she had woke up.

Her eyes have turned a deep crimson color - such a different look to the vibrant hopeful eyes I had seen when we were younger. Now all I see are eyes filled with nothing but hurt and pain.

Was she bottling this up all this time? Was she trying to be strong for me? Oh, Atla... was this all an act?

Her body was currently covered in best of the blankets in this cage, though it still wasn't of a good quality- but it was better than nothing. The runner-up blanket in terms of quality was folded - by me - for her to use as a pillow.

When I picked her up and placed her in this makeshift bed I had only just now realized how light she had become. I swore she was much heavier before - what am I thinking, of course, she was - before all of this she was getting fed properly and being given proper, real medicine.

A medicine that actually worked - a medicine that allowed her to live a somewhat normal life...

That's all gone now. It's not coming back...

There's nothing that can change all that.

I turned my attention back to my sister I could hear her stifled whimpers underneath the blanket, even from beneath the thick fabric of the cover I could still make out the distinct outline of the shield; still, its ethereal glow shining through the rough coverings fibers.

Parts of the shield's light had become suddenly muted as Atla shifted in her bed; I assumed the shield's gem had been covered by her fingers. Perhaps she too sensed its soothing qualities.

I don't know why but its presence imposed some hope onto my mind that things may be okay. It was a silly hope but still, it being with Atla made me feel... happy.

The light began to fade and reemerge brighter than before - once again it seemed as though it was talking - this time just not to me.

I didn't know whether to feel happy or not - I just can't put a pin on my emotions right now - I usually think I'm alright at masking my emotions.

Atla argued the opposite - she could be quite the contrarian... it's at moments like these that I just want her to tell me to stop being such a crybaby.

It's funny in a way- you never realize what you miss until it stops being a part of your life...

Until your life just changes for no reason... everything you ever knew, gone in a moment - like breath on a mirror.

I just continued to watch her, it pained me to no end knowing that I can't just help her... I sound like a broken record - over and over my thoughts just never seem to be anywhere else... I'm just tethered here.

Fixed to one cause.

Fixed to one place.

This is no way a child should be living, I gently raised my hand and stroked her face, "Stay strong Atla." I whispered, very softly - I felt my own voice begin to crack as I spoke.

"...It hurts..."

I wanted to help her... but I just couldn't, I-

I was taken out of my thoughts abruptly as the rusty lock of the cage began to turn; its hinges screamed as it was pried open by a familiar presence. "I do hope I'm not bothering you at this hour?" The voice of the Trader said.

I froze and turned to face him, "Where have you been...?" I asked, I should have been angry right now; I had a right to be angry, but I just couldn't muster up any fury as if all my anger had been diluted by my distress.

"Never thought I'd see the day when your flame had been extinguished. I mean your yelling earlier was really something else. How did it go... Ah yes, 'Hey, you fat fucker where are you' was it?" He commented, there was something different about his voice, it sounded less mocking than before.

His speech patterns had remained pretty much identical, however... but his voice sounded downright sorry, "You... heard that? Why didn't you come...?" I asked, still my anger evaded me.

"I was mulling over what to do... Unfortunately, I've come to my one and only solution." He shuffled nervously in his spot, his cane thwacking against his hand while his other orchestrated the canes movement, "Can you walk?"

I nodded my head, "Good. Bring your sister?" Then I stopped, I looked at him distrustfully, my hand stopped stroking Atla's head as I turned to face him.

"Why should I need to bring Atla along with me...? I questioned, the Slaver tutted, shaking his head.

"Don't ask questions, follow my instructions; I've found a better solution to our little dilemma."

I had no choice but to become compliant with the trader. I couldn't risk him shocking me or Atla, there was no guarantee we would survive if he resorted to it, while I don't have any semblance of trust in the slaver I recognized the fact that he could be quite volatile when it came to handling his slaves. "Okay... Just-just give me a moment..." I returned my gaze to Atla, I carefully scooped her up in the blanket and into my arms without any trouble or resistance from her.

The cage ceiling was low, I had to crouch in order to get leave the claustrophobic-inducing enclosure. After I exited the cage I rose to my full height, I readjusted my hold on Atla, gently hoisting her up into my arms similar to a newborn would be held. Her head limply rested on the crook between my head and shoulder.

"Walk." He ushered us forwards, through the tent. Once more we passed by the many rows of cages stacked upon one another, many different shapes took form in the darkness of the enclosures where the muted light of the makeshift torches hung; adults; children; both human; demihuman; beastmen all of them trapped.

Some of the more wild ones once again lashed out at me as we passed by them, their malnourished gaunt arms extending through the cages to grasp us. In a frenzied attempt at grabbing my attention.

One especially rebellious slave grasped at the blanket that loosely covered Atla's form, causing her to whimper loudly, instinctively I yanked the fibers of the cover from the grip of the obscured slave; reading myself to defend my sister.

Though before I could defend ourselves, the Slaver beat me to it, due to the disobedient slave's actions the portly man sought it right to shock the beast. Causing it to quickly recoil backing its cage with a loud howl of pain.

"That's the reason I don't put them with my top-notch stock; not many masters would buy something so primitive." The ringmaster ranted, "I mean there's no point in having them at a proper underground coliseum, they'd probably try and tear someone's arm off. How would I explain that to a potential customer? There's a reason why he was one of the stragglers even out of the ones I'd sold."

His rant seemed to go on until we reached the entrance of the tent. He poked and prodded at the manky fabric that was seemingly bound to the dirt and similarly disgusting things that wound up on the floor over the course of however long it was there for with his cane.

After a few moments, he snagged a fold on the exterior of the tent; pushing it outward with his cane so as not to get his hands dirty, he nodded his head to the side gesturing in us to step out into the open air of Zeltoble.

The air was cool; relaxing even; it definitely caused Atla to ease up a bit - her heavy breathing devolving into a more relaxed pace.

I did anything but. The unknown of what was to come had grown to the forefront of my mind. I felt as though my fight-or-flight instinct was about to kick in, yet I knew that if I ran that bastard would zap us to death or bring us to the bring at the very least.

It was dark out by now, the moon newly emerging from behind formidable grey clouds that circled about us. The wind whistled gently as it brushed against my bare skin, I guess I was oblivious to how much time had passed...

The slaver sauntered to his carriage that was placed adjacent to the tent, a lilac filolial securely fastened to the main body of the wagon via a few reigns that connected to its beak and plumage.

I recognized it as the same filolial that escorted me to and from my fights, the bird craned its neck in our direction; it attentively watched us approach before bursting into a chorus of chirps as we neared it.

It practically jumped with joy as it took notice of me, bobbing its head up and down and from side to side, pretty much rubbing up against my face with its abundance of feathers and fluff.

Well... I wasn't expecting that, it acted more like a dog than it did a wagon-obsessed oversized bird. This excitement promptly ceased when it took notice of Atla, it made a sort of whining noise at seeing her in this sort of state.

It brung its head down to her side, I stepped back but it followed me persistently. Its beak nudged a loose fold of the cover on Atla to a more secure position.

I stared at it bewildered for a good few seconds... Had it just attempted to help Atla? Well, that was a new one, reluctantly I ruffled its feathers in order to show my appreciation to it; while securely holding my sibling in the other.

In response, it cooed softly, "Right that's enough of that, get a move on, doors open!" The irritating voice of the slaver called from his perch at the front of the wagon.

With that abrupt interruption, I clambered into the carriage making sure to avoid harming Atla as I passed through the caged exterior of the wagon.

Out of one prison and straight into another.

I made sure to keep a firm grip on Atla, for all she talked about how robust she claimed to be; I knew that she was about as brittle as glass is.

The portly man tugged on the filolial's reigns, and not a second later the wagon began gaining momentum. I almost instinctively grabbed a hold of the side of the vehicle as to prevent any incoming injuries from occurring due to any overly excited birds.

But those injuries never came; instead, it was an unusually smooth ride: which was odd when an animal notorious for its love of carriages and speed was seated at the helm.

We passed along the streets without much trouble.

No one paid much mind to us as we tootled across town. Vendors still endlessly and relentlessly calling out to passers-by trying to swindle them out of any loose change they may have had on them from their near-empty stands, drunkards and the like making merry outside of taverns; chanting and singling shanties together filling the air with music.

I think I even heard Atla hum a little to the men's music. Speaking of Atla, something hard was digging into my shoulder from underneath her blanket.

Drawing back the fabric revealed the mysterious Shield. Only that can't be right; that thing was down in her forearm a minute ago… oh wait how could I forget, it was an enchanted shield wasn't it?

The center gemstone once again began to pulse; producing an opulent emerald bud every few seconds. It was a rather talkative object, wasn't it?

Seemed as though this time it was whispering into Atla's ear with how close it got to her face, or maybe it was trying to make her feel secure: I just didn't know.

Then then….

Thump!

"Damn it, are you incapable of pulling a cart with a little care!" The slaver yelped.

The force of that horrendous little slip-up on the filolial's end caused my face to smack directly into the shield. Though to my surprise instead of receiving a nasty bump from the impact I felt nothing.

Atla seemed to have felt nothing either as she still lay unfazed over my shoulder.

"These things can be quite the pain can't they?" The trader asked swiveling around to face me through the bars, I quickly concealed the shield as he turned to address me.

I didn't reply though, instead, I just eyed the floor of the wagon; the slaver grinned slightly, "Back to giving me the silent treatment, eh?" He chortled, "I've got to say I'm going to miss that rather dearly."

What.

"Care to repeat that?" I asked, this time craning my neck toward him as I shot him a piercing glare.

"Oops, I suppose I've said too much."

I frown, finding a newly festering rage deep inside me, "No!-" then I stopped, I felt my sister freeze up as I raised my voice to him. Hmmph, I grunted, "I don't think you've said enough." My anger was still present though it was suppressed as was the volume of my voice.

The slaver turned his attention back to the road ahead, "Well I guess you have a right to know."

"That's a first." I snarked.

He promptly ignored my comment, "You've having a… how should I say this- exchange of hands." He explained.

I bore holes into the back of his head with my glare, he could tell; each time I did that he did a little dance in his seat, "That glare's another thing I'm going to miss."

I hoisted myself to my feet, standing up fully; I inches closer to him in morbid interest.

"And why are you doing that?"

He sighed, he didn't turn to face me; instead keep his gaze steadily on the pavement far ahead of us, "I've had a couple of days to decide on this." He started, "You and your sister are becoming a drain on my business. I don't know if I just didn't notice it or didn't care but a hole has been burned in my purse."

He pulled on the reigns, trying to slow down the filolial before giving a hard tug to the side causing us the rear off in a different direction down a narrower path of houses.

"I fear I've become too soft, I reason you two are the cause of that fact. So I thought I'd get you out of my metaphorical hair." He joked raising his hat to reveal a bald, shining cap.

I looked at him with contempt, "Where to now then? Are you going to throw us into a fire now because we've served our purpose for you?" I asked, still shielding my anger from him. I concentrated not tightening my grip in anger on the very likely chance that I injured Atla doing do, "If we are that useless to you why don't you let us go?"

The Slaver laughed, "Easier said than done, at the end of the day I'd rather have a profit than have your freedom." He proclaimed, tightening his grip on the reigns to keep balance as the filolial continued to move through the nighttime landscape of Zeltoble, "No, you'll have a new home is all."

We spoke no more after that, I sat back down at the back of the cart, this time further than before; knowing that this was as far as I could get from a Slaver before being subject to a potentially much grimmer future. Atla was still out cold, her head buried into my shoulder, I didn't want to disturb her: especially not with these changing circumstances.

The shield emanated a warm heat from its gem, not a hot temperature but just enough for it to be noticeable. It had moved once again this time moving back down to its original position.

I stared out through the wagon, I stared upward toward the sky, watching the moon peeking out from behind a canvas of dark clouds; its diluted light covering the street in a dim yet calming moonlight.

I was so out of sorts that I hadn't noticed the cart come to a screeching halt. The filolial screeched in annoyance from the front of the wagon as its enjoyment was suddenly cut short, the fat man opened the side door to the cart, he motioned for me to get out, "Come on now, don't want to make it harder than it has to be." He said.

Before us was one of the coliseums of the Zeltoble, its wall stretched fairly high above us, perhaps a few stories tall. Its exterior was grey and dull not leaving much to the imagination; we were situated on the opposite side to the main door the public used to attend the matches that were held inside.

Adjacent to where the wagon was parked was a door, it blended in with the dullness of the brick walls, camouflaging it rather well, acting as a natural barrier even under the unlikely circumstance of a person finding this secluded section of the coliseum.

The Slaver nudged me forward, setting my step into motion, I was unable to stop myself from moving: as though some part of me wanted to know what was going to happen. Another part knew exactly what was going to happen, "How much did they pay you?" I asked spite clear in my voice.

"Money is an irrelevant factor in this situation." Beloukas chided, quickly shutting down the conversation, "I don't want you to think about that. Think forward." He stated. Think forward? To what- was his mind so corrupt and twisted that he thought this was all some game?

There was nothing to look forward to, some sort of me recognized that fact but another couldn't hunt myself accept it.

As we approached the door slowly opened inward into the building, it screamed as its full weight was transferred onto the rusted hinges it clung to desperately. The door opened out into a set of cobbled stairs that led down into the earth, I spotted a few dim lanterns at the bottom of the staircase. It didn't go far down into the ground, though it was enough to hide an entirely different world beneath it.

I swallowed a lump in my throat, the repugnant atmosphere clinging to my clothes, and my skin: as though the air itself was choking me. The many thousands of disheveled hairs on my tail stood on end, while the former stood erect waving stiffly from one side to the other.

The Slaver prodded me with his cane from behind end me, ushering me into the dark belly of the coliseum. Each step I took was met with the heavy sound of my feet reverberating off the floor, and with each step, the more uneasy I felt as we descended. My stomach was filled with butterflies as if it were about to burst onto the unkempt and grimy cobble stairs with the slightest touch.

It was dark, and the interior of this arched corridor continued to become more and more so as we followed the muted candlelight at the bottom, like moths to a flame I couldn't stop moving. It was as if I stopped moving my legs would give up and I'd be swallowed by the darkness around us. But I persevered, and soon enough we became level with the lanterns.

Another cobbled brick arch gave way to a vast excavated site beneath the coliseum, it truly was a different world. Its atmosphere held a suffocating presence that gripped me even harder than before. The vast space was well-illuminated, however, it was completely devoid of life, it caused me to stand even more on edge than before: there was something uncanny about it. Something was severely off-putting about it.

Different arches and doors led off into a number of rooms towards the side of the site. They weren't large but big enough for a reasonable amount of storage, my heart sank further and further as I gazed in horror at my surroundings, there was no doubt in my mind about what those rooms housed.

Center to all of this was a large cage, large was putting it mildly, it was much more accurate to describe it as an arena. A makeshift, crude arena, surrounding it was a multitude of seats and spectator stands.

"What do you think of this, your new home?"

"Fuck you." That was all I could say, I bit my tongue stopping myself from spouting any more profanities while Atla was here, I clenched my jaw, and an inextinguishable fire had been lit in my soul. Once again I had to prevent myself from physically attempting to murder the fat bastard.

"Oh, so eloquently put. I remember when you first arrived in my care." He began, "You were about yay high." The man placed his hand out flat in front of him just below his head, "You didn't talk like that back then, must've been all the blows to the head you've received- turned you into a beast." He mocked, he paced around me like a predator stalking its prey. He laughed for a moment before returning to his senses, proceeding to stifle his giggles.

"Now only a bit further to go, this way please- there's a good boy." He ordered, and the Slaver lead me into one of the side rooms, as expected it was small. Perhaps it was smaller than I expected, a variety of oaken shelves decorated the walls; there were a few chairs facing the center of the room.

Sitting in one of the chairs was a man, just like Beloukas he was bald, similarly, he was dressed in a suit; though it was much less lavish and much more practical. He looked up at the arrival of the Slaver, he smiled kindly at him, Beloukas laughed, "When you said Underground Coliseum I never realized you meant it so literally."

The other also laughed, "I like to go the extra mile for my clients." He said, "It didn't take long to do I'll have you know. Those skilled in earthen magics proved especially capable in this construction."

He turned his attention to me, he looked me up and down giving me a similar smile, it was a warm and kind one; one a father would give his child: one that was entirely fabricated.

"Now that you are awake I can tell you are a very capable young man." He complimented, he stood up to greet me, "If you wouldn't mind please stand here." He pointed to the center of the room, "May you leave Atla on one of the chairs for me."

I didn't budge- he knew my sister's name, I was beside myself- what did he mean? Had he seen her before? He must have… but how?

"Please do as you're instructed." He said again.

I kept Atla in my grasp not letting up my grip on her, the stranger frowned, "I suggest you do as you're told if you don't want Atla to be shocked to death. I may have bought the pair of you but I don't mind killing you off." His tone had dramatically switched to a much more grim and serious tone, "Your price was negligible to me." He reaffirmed.

"Do it."

I shook with great fury, one that I had not once experienced inside of the arena; he was threatening my sister's life. I stormed to one of the chairs, gently placing her on its hard-oaken surface before standing sentinel in the middle of the room- I balled my fists, tightly- to the point where I was sure that my nails would puncture my skin.

The stranger swiped a vial of clear liquid off a wooden table in the corner of the room, next to it sat a brush and a thicker, more rotund glass. It was sealed by a brown cork, and kept in the glass was an inky black substance, it was as black as the blackest black and emanated a dark yet familiar presence.

"Show me your seal." He instructed as he approached with the glass poised and ready in his hands. I hesitantly raised my shirt to reveal my slave crest, I refused to look at it. I was repulsed that such a thing was now a part of me.

"Do you want me to hold him still?" Beloukas asked, the other shook his head,

"That would not be necessary, I'm sure he will comply." He proceeded to pour the liquid onto my chest, it seared my flesh as whatever was in the substance ate away at the ink that bound me to Beloukas. I hissed in pain as it burned deeper into my muscles. The stranger stowed the now vacant glass inside his pocket.

For a brief time, I was free.

The bastard the mistake of turning his back on me, he's going to regret that. You're going to pay for threatening her you pathetic excuse of a man. I poised myself; ready to maul him, ready to teach him a lesson, ready to-.

The familiar crackle of electricity whipped into the air with its abhorrent tauntings, "I would be mindful if I were you. You may not but under a seal now but Atla still is." I snapped my head around to the fat Slaver, he looked at me with discontent, he motioned with his head towards Atla; surges of electricity pulsed around her body.

He wasn't punishing her, he was just warning me... Warning me of what was to come if I didn't follow my soon-to-be owner's instructions.

The stranger matched towards the table once more, snatching the brush and ink bottle into his palm. With one hand he removed the cork from where it squatted in the mouth of the glass, with his other he plunged the brush into the abyssal contents of the glass; pulling it out of the depths he turned back towards me.

I shivered as the ink made contact with my bare skin, the hairs of the brush felt as though they were piercing my soul. As the growing volume of the vile, putrid substance etched itself into my skin I felt my brief sense of freedom be ripped from me, as new shackles formed.

It didn't take long for the seal to be drawn, I felt a weight fall on my shoulder; one greater than before under Beloukas' ownership. I- I just didn't know what to do now, I felt the unknown of my future begin to slowly sink in.

"Would you like the girl crested next?" Beloukas asked.

"No!" I blurted out, "Don't do it!" I begged, worry beginning to set into my voice, "She may not survive it- not in her current state! She'd die!" I explained hastily, my breath was short and my speech was erratic and frenzied as I tried to get the stranger to see reason,

"I can't have done all this for nothing!"

He ummed and ahhed to himself before, seemingly coming to a conclusion- every cell in my body pleaded with him to see reason, every fiber of my nervously waiting for a response. The atmosphere became palpable, the silence following, deafening.

"No that will not be necessary. I have no use for her to have a crest, she'd not be participating. There is no cause for concern about disobedience in her state. Additionally, she'd be dead before long regardless." He spoke in a matter-of-fact, robotic tone as he delivered his verdict. He cast his gaze upon me, "If what you tell me is true, then there'd be no point in doing so."

Beloukas eyed the other curiously, "And what of my crest, surely you wouldn't want another person's belongings being involved with your business."

My new owner walked toward Beloukas, he grabbed him by the shoulders as the latter caught the former's ire, "You may keep it, let it be a reminder of your weakness and a reminder for it to not happen again. Watch it as what remains of her health dwindles and remember all those useless funds you put towards her. Do. Not. Make. The. Same. Mistake. Again." He stressed those last words the most, like a strict parent lecturing their child on their poor behavior.

"Very well." Was all the little man could say, "Well then, I shall take my leave. Good evening to all of you." With that, he tipped his hat before exiting the room, within a few moments the echoes of his steps could be heard rebounding off the walls of this underground coliseum as he ascended the stairs.

The steps soon ceased, and with that, the room was plunged into an unbearable silence. The man stood still, motionless as he stared at the door which Beloukas had exited from moments before, then slowly he turned his attention to me.

"Follow me." He ordered.

"...Ok-" I hesitantly replied,

"I don't want to hear your voice. I don't want to hear any noise from you or your sister. Do I make myself clear?" He interrupted, a frown emerging on his face. I nodded nervously, any and all strength that I may have felt before now had ceased.

"Bring Atla with you." He commanded, I quickly followed his instructions, hurridly scooping her up into my arms.

What was I doing? Why was I following his commands so subserviently? Was this fear I was feeling?

He marched through the door, I assumed he wanted me to follow suit- which I did, I kept my gaze on the floor as to avoid any and all eye contact with this man. Walking across the hallway we were met face-to-face with a door, there was nothing special about it, normal materials, normal handle, normal hinge; what lurked behind the door was anything but normal or natural in any respect.

As soon as he turned the handle of the door, my ears were met with the sound unholy torrent of abhorrent noises from what lurked within. Howls, cries, screams, grunts, and an entire dictionary of awful noises filled my ears; them only being amplified by my enhanced hearing. I winced as the sounds hit my eardrums.

I flattened my ears to the top of my head as to muffle some of the noises I heard. They were relentless, never ceasing; like a whirlpool of misery.

Poor Atla had too, flattened her ears to the top of her head, "Stop... Please..." She begged, I felt my heart sink further into my chest with every word she spoke. What an abhorrent way to awaken from sleep...

I only wished she fell back into the land of dreams, there she could retain some semblance of normality.

The room was dimly lit, the only thing preventing the room from plunging into total pitch-black darkness was a weak, meek lantern that hung in the center of the room.

Rough outlines and silhouettes of cages could be made out where the lantern's pathetic light waned, there were dozens of cages inside, they were stacked around the room in columns of two. Within the middle, just below the lantern itself were a multitude of cages that were placed tightly together in a rectangular formation. My owner stepped into the hell hole, and calmly marched through the cramped spaces between the side and middle enclosures toward a cage in the middle of the room.

I had no choice but to follow him, and soon enough I found myself gazing at the ceiling of the room as I followed his footsteps; I didn't know what I thought it would achieve, it was some childish attempt to escape from this place.

To escape from anywhere but here.

The feeling of despair was much greater here than within the fat man's tent, so much so that it became overwhelming. The audio violence I was being exposed to really began to clamp down on me./p

Before I realized it the cage had been opened wide, my master stared at me in disgust, "I want you to know one simple thing. There are no favorites within my care, there is nothing you can do to gain my respect nor my favor. You are to be treated like everyone else in here." He began, "You are no longer Fohl, you are now #142. Should you ever be bought that is what I shall refer to you as until you leave my care."

I nervously shifted on my spot, "...What about Atla?" I asked meekly, not trying to anger the man.

"For as long as she lives for, she too shall be referred to as #142." He said.

I did so.

The cage door clanked behind me, sealing me inside the prison. There was no way out.

Not for as long as Atla lived for at least...

---

Truth be told I couldn't tell if I were awake or not. If I was dreaming or not. When I opened my eyes I am presented with nothing, just and only nothing.

Whenever I try to move my body my limbs disobey me, they disregard my requests in favor of doing nothing. I felt like I was dreaming like I wasn't completely here nor there. And yet, my ears are bombarded with a discordant chorus of sounds I would have never expected nor wanted to hear. I feel as though I'm moving... But something else is taking me somewhere.

I cannot resist it like I'm subservient to my surroundings and whatever was lurking expanse of nothing. Sometimes I hear voices, only just barely making out words. One, the closest to me and the clearest of them, sounds like a young boy. I have no estimation of his age but he was young. There were other voices I'm sure but their words have long since escaped me.

I cannot seem to tell fact from fiction. I feel as though this is some kind of realistic dream you'd once in a blue moon. The ones where you can't tell whether you are awake or not, personally I haven't experienced one but I have had friends that had. One time they were convinced I had a pet dog, I can't remember the details but it took a lot of effort to finally convince them that they were wrong.

It could be one of those scenarios. I hope it was, for my sake.

But there was no way what I was feeling was anything less than real.

I hurt. All over. I could only describe it as my very body breaking down; dying while I was still alive. It felt like I was simultaneously burning and freezing, I felt too hot and too cold; all I could do was bare my teeth and hope. Hope that whatever is happening would cease. I couldn't even open my mouth to scream, my body stopped me from doing even that.

To add to my plight I began to feel an intense hunger well up from within me, it was one I had never felt before. It was excruciating; as if my stomach was eating away at my fat and muscle to stay alive.

My throat was dry. Very dry, It felt much less like a throat and more like someone had stuck a tube of sandpaper down my esophagus.

Where this overwhelming thirst came from remained a mystery to me, early today I had woken up to visit the library and browse selections of books. The stuff a guy does when he's bored; or at least that's what I did when I was bored, others including my friends were just getting wasted elsewhere.

I found a book, 'The Legend Of The Four Cardinal Heroes' it was titled. Then when I opened it I found myself somewhere completely alien to me, with an almighty thirst, ravenous hunger, and excruciating pain.

When I could muster up the strength to speak it took a lot of strength for me to do so, though I don't know if that was because all my strength was seemingly zapped from me or whether my chapped lips had seemingly sealed themselves shut.

When I spoke I didn't sound like myself, though the hoarse tones I cried out with I couldn't discern any semblance of my voice as I spoke. It was too high-pitched, too young, and too feminine. I couldn't make heads or tails of it, instead, my brain just began to panic, my mind was in such a frenzy that I was unable to calm myself down- instead, it raced fast, faster than it ever had before.

I had quite a monotonous and boring life, any sort of adrenaline I felt was few and far between; because of this, my state of panic was only heightened. If I was to measure it, it would be as tall as Everest.

Around me was what I assumed to be a blanket, or perhaps a carpet; one of the ones which were inconceivably itchy. Its surface was hard and felt quite the opposite of how a blanket should feel, it did a poor job of insulating me at all: the one job a blanket should do.

On my body and face, I was wrapped in an egregious amount of bandages, though I suppose it was warranted considering the excruciating pain I was in. By comparison to the blanket, these hardened worn bandages felt as soft as a cloud.

Considering the large amount of a whole lot of nothing in my vision I was very much surprised to notice a little green icon in the corner of my vision.

It was emerald green and circular in shape; within the circle were three dots made up of a lighter green, I kept my eyes focused on the peculiar sight, it was almost enough to cause me to forget my pain.

The circle reminded me of the icons I used to see in MMO games, which just further bewildered me. What was a game icon doing in the corner of my vision?

It was the type of thing you'd expect to read in a light novel I'd definitely read something with this concept before, and yet all the same I felt no amount of joy from this discovery.

Suddenly the icon expanded into a larger green stylized rectangular game menu.

《 Atla Fayon》

Shield Hero Lv 1

Equipment: Small Shield (Legendary Weapon) ▶

Status: Weakened, Status debuff

A cornucopia of various types of information stood out before me in bold, neon-green lettering. It listed different numerical values, and an array of skills and effects were listed alongside the large number of numbers displayed. I was puzzled, really I was, for my name wasn't my name instead it was a completely alien one, Atla Fayon.

My gaze was fixated on that name, it didn't sound Japanese but it did sound vaguely European, though my knowledge of Europe is fairly limited so I couldn't be certain.

Another curiosity piqued my interest and in turn my confusion as well, 'Shield Hero', one of the heroes listed in that weird book that I had picked up that morning. I hadn't a clue what had transpired after I had picked up the book; everything had turned all fuzzy and my memory seemed to have failed me. What had happened!? I didn't want to such stupid conclusions as the assertion I was about to make but-

What if the book had kidnapped me...?

I felt my stomach churn as I thought about that grim possibility, and my heart began to race at what felt like a million miles an hour; adrenaline felt like it had completely taken me over. Even causing some of my awful pains to be blocked out entirely.

That can't be right!

This isn't some kind of fairy tale, it couldn't be true... could it? Though that thought of that grim fantasy began to seep into the forefront of my mind- despondency seemed to override any semblance of common sense I was clinging to with dear life.

Despite my clear and utter state of panic and disarray, I focused on the drop-down menu next to the 'Small Shield',

《Additional Shield(s):

Bandage Shield》

I lingered on the Bandage Shield, unintentionally causing it to be equipped to me; all of a sudden I ever so slightly felt some of my pain be relieved, it wasn't enough to really to make any margin of a difference but it was at least something, furthermore, I felt the lightweight on my left arm; presumably, the shield to transform into something lighter and much sleeker as its bulk was turned into something much more streamlined.

As I felt my curiosity grow more and more restless I moved on to another block of text,

《 Party invitations avalable!》

View more details ▶

This time it was a smaller segment of the text, and despite its minute presence I recognized it to be a similar aspect to the games I had played in the past. Once again I focused on the little arrow, it expanded into a short list of names, or rather a name; it wasn't much of a list.

《Invitees are listed as follows》

Fohl Fayon ▶

His name and my 'name' share the same surname...

An idea crawled itself into my mind, though I refused to pay any attention to it... But what if... There was some relation.

I 'pressed' the arrow with my mind having no idea what else to do.

《Invitation Sent!》

The text appeared in my vision before fading into the darkness around me, leaving me to my thoughts. Though that silence wouldn't last as soon enough I heard a more than audible grunt close by, probably about a pace away from me,

"...What?"

It there was the young boy's voice gain, though I never really noticed how defeated he sounded it sounded tired and hoarse. The subtle shifting of fabrics following this was barely audible but not a moment later yet another text box appeared.

《Fohl Fayon has accepted your invitation!》

《Party of the Shield Hero Formed!》

Checking my peripherals a little hud had appeared in the corner of my vision. His name was listed above a near-empty health bar, its red hues barely clinging to the bar for dear life.

"I can see your health, I assume you can see mine. I just want to say that you may not be able to hear me but your brothers going to be fine." He assured... me?

It took a lot of courage and strength but I managed to blurt out, "I can hear you!", there was that feminine voice yet again- it mimicked my voice, and my thoughts as well. I suddenly felt a wave of fatigue hit me like a truck.

The boy's(?) grin was practically audible, "That's good to hear..." yet all the same the tone of his voice was quite the opposite, portraying a much more tired and exhausted child, "Get some rest Atla."

There was that name again, Atla, presumably my name, but it wasn't my name, nor was this my voice. Not only that, but my entire body felt smaller, weaker, and much more alien to me than ever before.

What had that book done to me?! I felt as though I was no longer myself- no! That's not accurate- I knew that I was no longer myself; more like I was someone completely different.

This name forced upon me by some outside force... I felt sick, both physically and mentally. But there was nothing I could do about it.

This isn't me!

What had I done to deserve this? I had been a bit of an ass at certain parts of my life- but who hasn't? Without sounding too arrogant I feel as though I had been a good influence on those around me- what had I done to warrant this?

I felt a hand grasp around me, I somehow managed to flinch at the unexpected touch. For a moment I didn't quite register what it was, his fingers were much too thin to think it was a hand; they were more akin to needles.

Fohl shifted me around slightly, adjusting my position, then after a few moments he released me from his careful grasp. To his credit, I felt much more comfortable than before though it didn't really matter all that much due to the amount of pain I was in; I continued to clench my jaw muscles as tightly as I could as I tried to cope with it.

"I know you're hurting but I cannot do anything at the moment... I wished that I never had to say this but you need to put up with it for now..." Fohl said.

Much easier said than done, I felt the adrenaline begin to wear off as the pain began to become much more apparent than before. He was sadly right, that was all I could do; I couldn't move much at ease, nor did I feel confident that my being able to somehow stand would cure me of this... pain.

So I lay there, no moving, completely unflinching; but all the same, I was scared, I was completely without sight and without my wits.

Instead, I returned to my incessant search for any and all information to help me, my eyes lingered on 'Shield Hero', it was no coincidence that the text displayed those words.

I was no fool, the book had taken me; I didn't want to admit but I knew the truth. I was somewhere completely different and entirely alien.

…

My eyes snapped to attention, my eyelids drowsily pulling themselves apart as I felt a wave of fatigue overtake me. I must've not realized that I had passed out, my mind was all fuzzy and clouded over.

At the forefront of my vision was another green text box,

《Atla Fayon has reached Lvl. 2!》

The smaller text box then suddenly expanded into a larger more extensive screen, it listed the increases to my 'stats' due to this unexpected level-up. It was kind of surreal in a way, with game rules and logic existing outside of a digital landscape.

Though I was disappointed to notice that the stat improvements I had received were minute, only a couple of points into each of the allotted aspects.

《Warning!: Due to status ailments Debuff -
Shield Hero will experience lower and more diluted amounts of experience.》

While I had gained nothing substantial I still gained something useful, if only slightly useful. It was the best news that I had received so far in this limbo world I have found myself in, a quick glance up to the top of my screen I had noticed that whoever my party member, 'Fohl' was, he too had received a small chunk of experience as indicated by a yellow line beneath his 'health bar'.

God, it felt odd thinking in this mindset of it being like a game, it sure as hell didn't feel like it.

"...Fohl?" There was no response, nor was there any sort of friendly sounds coming from nearby- at that point rather quickly I realized I was alone.

I, however, was ignorant to the sounds of footsteps roaming around my surroundings, there were multiple pairs of feet moving around me,

"'Ere, whose buyin' this one? Five gold for what? A little girl wrapped in bandages?"

I could hear the sound of a man's voice practically right next to me, he was practically straining himself to speak, gasping in between words as if he were out of breath merely by speaking.

He took a big gasp before continuing to speak, "What's this one supposed to do then? Just looks like a useless brat to me!" He mocked, I felt my heart sink further into my chest- if that were even possible,

'I'm not a girl... I'm not Atla Fayon...'

"Goddamn, ridiculous if you ask me!" I felt my surroundings shake as the metallic sound of iron resonated in the air, I found myself complacent against the sudden force applied to me, "Come on do something you little bitch, show me why you are worth Five glorious gold coins!"

Each time I was rocketed into a different direction I felt my bones practically shatter and break as I collided with the iron surface of the ground, in my vulnerable state, I did something I hadn't done for a while, "Waaa..."

I cried with that oh-so-alien voice that I had been forced to adopt as my own, much more silently and weakly than I had ever done before; I knew that I wasn't capable of anything more than that; since I had become Atla my strength had long since left me never to return.

A burst of uproarious laughter erupted from the man, "If I wanted a slave to purely hear it cry I'd purchase a much cheaper, louder one, your nothing special!" He ceased the relentless assault, leaving me to lie on my back sobbing to myself.

Slave...

I'm a slave, am I...? Oh god, I felt sick to my stomach, physically sick- not some rhetorical or figurative sickness. I felt it well up in my chest, I felt my mouth begin to water uncontrollably, with no chance to hold back the floodgates, I can't, I'll choke on my own vomit if I don't move now.

Exerting all the energy at my fingertips I flipped myself onto my side, unto which I unleashed an eruption of bile from my mouth. None of which was solid, from the entirely liquidy-sounding splash that followed practically spewing my entrails across what I now assumed to be a cage.

I couldn't think straight, everything became fuzzy, as I faded in and out of consciousness, my brain falling out of tune with the sounds around me as my numbness began to overtake my nervous system.

I 'blinked' only a couple of times and suddenly most everything had fallen silent aside from a few groans of other people I'd assumed to also be slaves. Their cry's similarly mimicking my emotions perfectly.

"Atla!-" A familiar voice yelped in worry,

"Do not speak." Another voice chided, he stressed each word pouring disgust into each syllable. The unlocking of a bolt chimed rather loudly next to me, followed by a series of hurried movements cyclically followed by the repeated sound of the bolt- this time of its locking.

"What happened here...? Give me a moment..." I felt myself once again being moved by Fohl's grasp, laying me in a much more comfortable position. Despite my rather dark state of mind, I was grateful to the boy, it felt nice to be cared for by another person in this place.

Wait... But he wasn't doing this for me, was he? He was doing it for Atla... not for me, a random person who snatched his sister's body. Just like that, my brief sense of joy had been swiftly wrenched from me.

Suddenly I felt guilty, while it was unintentional I still felt as though I were using him for my own gain, as silly as it sounds.

I knew I couldn't do anything about it either, it wasn't as if I could say, 'Oh hey Fohl I'm not your sister I'm actually a twenty-year-old man who stole your sister's body, please believe me, and continue to look after me'.

"What am I going to do about this mess?" He pondered to himself,

"Sorry." I said meekly, Fohl dismissed my comment,

"Don't worry too much about it, you're not getting any better just yet." His tone was filled with empty optimism as if he were trying to convince himself of what he was saying.

Didn't fill me with much hope, trapped in a little girl's body now with the much more real threat of death due to illness.

"...At least I reached level two." I said, it probably didn't mean a whole lot but I hoped that it would reassure Fohl, or at least somewhat relieve some of his stresses.

He made a hmming sound before letting out a little giggle, "So you have! Did we share experience points?" I could practically hear his smile with the amount of happiness he felt at this revelation. It sounded like some hope had returned to him at the very least.

"Always good to have some good news isn't it? We don't get enough of that..."

---

Fohl scanned his sister for the mysterious shield, finding that it had suddenly disappeared, it may have not been a massive object but it wasn't exactly a thing you could easily miss especially with the rather opulent gem that was stuck slap-bang right in the center of it.

Yet it seemed to have gone missing, "Where did your shield go?" He asked himself, though Atla took it as her opportunity to answer in my stead not fully understanding I wasn't addressing her.

"...Left arm"

He raised an eyebrow at her, shifting my gaze his observed once again that her arm was entirely void of the aforementioned shield.

'Wait a moment- is that what I think it is?' Sitting in its stead was a small bundle of bandages, at its center was the signature gemstone of the shield. Gingerly Fohl grabbed hold of the bandages and gently unraveled some of them, barring his teeth he ripped his segment from the main body of the bandages.

The boy eyed it curiously, "What the... I've been meaning to ask where did you get this from?" he questioned her, it was Atla's turn to be confused now, she scrunched her face up as if in deep thought,

"I don't know it just appeared..." She replied, Fohl pulled and stretched the bandages testing it's elasticity,

"Things don't just appear like that- especially not a magical shield." He commented, once he was satisfied with his test on the bandage's quality he began to reapply some of the bandages his sister had ripped off a few days prior.

There were no potions to dip the bandages in but it would have to do for the time being, Fohl doubted he'd be given any sort of medical supply- this new slaver was much too dissimilar to the fat slaver. He didn't really seem to care about his possessions as much as Beloukas and that was saying something.

Implementing his rather limited knowledge of first aid Fohl began to coil the bandages around his sister for how felt like the millionth time. He noticed that he'd gotten more proficient over time, the first time he did this it took exponentially longer than it did now as he'd grown much more proficient with this craft.

But using the bandages of a shape-shifting shield was a first for him, it was simultaneously a really bizarre and really useful development.

The boy didn't know whether his sister was lying to him or not, shields don't just appear on one's arm- but he'd trust his sister in good faith.

After all, there was no reason for her to lie about how it somehow appeared here. Why would she lie about something so beneficial?

"I'm just going to need you to rest." Fohl said, for what felt like the one-millionth time.

Atla shook her head in refusal, "No. I'm not tired…" She argued, Fohl sighed; tightening the last knot of the bandages he fell back to look at his handy work,

"It's not a matter of being tired it's a matter of you keeping your health as good as you can get it." He lectured, Atla raised an eyebrow,

"Then why don't you rest then..." She asked, her eyes looking straight through him, "…Your health bar is nearly depleted."

Fohl didn't respond, instead choosing to lean himself against the cold bars of the cage.

"You need to look… After yourself first… then me…" She struggled to get her words out, as she gasped for breath after each and every word- clinging to the oxygen in the air.

She patted the tattered blanket beside her- displaced after the taunting and jeering from the loud man earlier in the day.

"Use it… You've more need for it than I do…" She said.

Fohl screwed up his face in annoyance, "You use it." He fired back rather childishly, Atla grunted in exasperation, turning onto her side with a great effort,

"I refuse."

Facing away from Fohl, not looking him in the eyes and in turn bringing the argument to a close.

Under the mask of Atla, Naofumi was ever so slightly grinning to himself, Fohl reminded him of his little brother- really it was like he was right there with him. As such he had experience dealing with this sort of childish behaviour, especially later on when he started to hang out with the wrong crowd.

Just give it a few minutes- he'll come around.

Naofumi thought about his brother- sure he was a little bit of a bastard to begin with but he'd softened out into a better person later on. Though he didn't know when he'd see his face again- it saddened him to think about that prospect.

He could only hope that his parents weren't being even harsher on him due to Naofumi's sudden disappearance.

Fohl glowered at his sister, it wasn't the first time she'd done something like this- despite her condition she could be quite stubborn on things she was passionate about.

He knew that if he were to put the blanket on her she'd just shrug it off herself. He sighed,

Fine, have it your way.

Grumbling to himself he picked up the blanket and draped himself in its rough fabrics; despite its uncomfortable exterior, it was surprisingly good as an insulator. Leaning against the bars his exhausted eyes stopped on Atla's form.

He could tell she was smiling to herself, she was proud of herself- Fohl couldn't tell whether he should be happy that she was still as mischievous as before or disappointed that she refused his kindness.

Repositioning himself he felt a sharp pain surge up from his rib cage, biting his tone he prevented himself from yelling from the sensation.

One thing she as right about though- he did need to take better care of himself; because that chest pain was not the only one he felt, all over his body he experienced a more diluted numb feeling similar to his chest pain.

Grunting to himself he finally relaxed his body allowing himself to become subservient to gravity as his arms drooped idly at his sides.

Fohl's focus soon shifted absentmindedly to the breaks in the iron, just looking outward into the muted torch light. His azure eyes surveyed his surroundings. All he could make out was a wall of cages not but a few feet away from him.

The whites of the eyes of the residents hiding within the farthest side of the cages concealed their figures, though he just needed to look at them to know that they were watching him how a predator would watch its prey.

The boy hated their gaze, it was discomforting- disturbing to an extent. The nonblinking eyes just watched him and his every move.

He stared back into the abyss before him, his tired eyes looking for any sign of friendliness or familiarity only to turn up empty-handed.

Opening his status menu to escape those scathing glares his eyes wandered to his own health bar, red- a deep crimson red. His MP bar faired no better either.

Had he really been that hyper-fixated on Atla that he neglected his own well-being? He was practically knocking on death's door.

Or was it that he had just ignored everything that didn't revolve around his sister? Actually, he couldn't even claim that there were so many aspects that he'd been foregoing for this monstrously difficult goal.

Even compared to his sister's health bar his was low, had his own health always been at such a pitiful number?

"You still awake Atla?"

Silence.

Not tired, huh?

Speaking of which.

He felt dust begin to collect in the corner of his eyes as his eyelids began to grow in their weight, his shoulders began to slouch and his neck arched downward into the floor like a spring.

He refused to fall into a slumber just yet, groggily scooting his way across the cage he reach for the shield(?) on his sister's arm. Pulling at one of the bandages tearing it clean off as not to disturb her sleep.

Pulling up his tunic revealed a multitude of bruises and cuts across his body, one significant one being situated at the side of his rib cages, defined claw marks that slowly seeped a crimson ichor were engraved into his flesh.

Some of the blood had dried around the ridge of the cut causing it to hurt a hell of a lot more when he pulled the shirt fabric which found itself fused to his skin, breathing in and out he ripped it like a band-aid causing him to hiss in pain.

Fohl then decorated the injury in the cotton of the bandage causing its pristine white color to become tinted with a red hue that seeped through it.

It felt wrong taking some bandages from Atla without her permission… But he'd rather not think about that right now.

He found himself some relief in his newly bandaged injury, falling unto his back in a wave of laziness and exhaustion.

Wait.

He discretely threw the blanket around his sister, both because he cared about her but also because he wanted his own back after her shutting the down the conversation abruptly.

"Sweet Dreams."

Soon enough he fell into a deep slumber himself.

…

The muffled noise of iron rubbing against iron could just about be made out in the deafening silence. Fohl felt as powerful, large hands had grabbed into him, but in his groggy state, he was unaware of what was fully going on around him.

His brain was running much too slowly to keep up with his surroundings which were running at a noticeably quicker pace, being rather hastily and forcefully hoisted to his feet his unprepared knees buckled under his weight as his body tried to coordinate itself in a vain attempt to stop getting tangled in its limbs.

His vision was fuzzy and undefined, only a flurry of fast-moving colors could be seen with vague shapes being able to be made out from the different shades of oranges and reds as he was dragged along the floor as he stumbled to his feet to try and regain some semblance of normality.

Fohl blinked and all of a sudden found himself somewhere completely different, a new array of faint sounds were filling his eardrums with their clatter. The screams and cries of excitement from an enormous amount of people, but still he couldn't make out any of his surroundings, yet all the same, it had a perturbing familiarity to it that caused him to stay on edge despite his dazed state.

"Get….There… ready"

Fohl ease was only able to ascertain a few of the words being drilled into his ears, missing out on the large majority that would allow him to piece together even a small fraction of what was going on. All he knew was that the voice's demeanor was one of utmost seriousness, the colossal hands that brutally dragged him out of the cage had migrated to his shoulders, their firm grip devolving into a much more tight and painful grasp.

The boy yelped a bit at the sudden touch,

"… Open…"

Once again he couldn't understand what was being said to him, Fohl tried to verbalize his confusion only to be met with the cold rim of a glass bottle pressed strenuously against his mouth. His head was then wrenched back as the contents of said bottle flowed down his throat.

Its sweet taste was something he wouldn't forget no matter how disorientated he was.

《120 Points of health restored!》

Suddenly he went from not comprehending the situation to being hyper-aware of what was going to happen, how stupid was he- no how dazed was he that he couldn't work out why he was being dragged from his cage like a ragdoll?

The visceral sound of iron scrapping against the floor fill his ear with an abhorrent din. It made a crunching sound as it dragged along parts of the gritty textured floor beneath his feet, folwing this the vague silhouette of a man could be made out ahead of him. Then suddenly he was flung into the enclosure, without so much as a warning.

Then with the grace of a drunk man, he brought himself to his feet tightening his fists as he swayed from side to side on the balls of his feet; concentrating hard not to fall onto his ass.

How long had it been since he had fallen asleep a few hours, a few minutes even?

He squinted as he peered forward due to the harsh light attacking his eyes, not quite acclimating to the comparatively blinding light of this underground stadium whereas the light within his little holding was a much more pitiful flame.

Ahead him stood a tall, hulking man hunching over, Fohl could just about make out the closed fists that stood alert and pointed in his direction.

"#142... #98... Go!"

---

It had been about two weeks since arriving in Zeltoble, and so far not much luck- each time I think I've found a lead its trail runs cold rather quickly. I feel as though I'm just chasing my own tail at this point, just running around in a circle with no sign of slowing down. It was a vicious cycle, each time it happened I felt a part of my soul being wrenched from my body.

Today I'm on yet another one of my soon-to-be failed endeavors, I just hope that I will prove myself wrong- just for my sanity. Personally,

I wouldn't hang around here as long as I have been but the host of this place has specific times in which he allows the purchase of his 'wares.'

Slurp

All the same though, the beer here is pretty stellar though it's still not enough to do anything for me though- not much of a surprise. I smashed my glass down on the table in front of me triumphantly; sitting adjacent to me was a man who if I had to describe him I'd say he'd been dragged through a hedge backward. Poor guy was struggling to not fall off his dinky little stool- he was actually sweating as he tried to stabilize himself.

He let out a couple of gurgling sounds as he tried to down the last few drops of his glass.

How many drinks in were we by now? Ten? Fifteen? Either way, I was impressed by him, I got rather excited at the start of this little game, I thought he would be able to match me in his drinking ability.

"Anuthurrrrr...!"

Yep, he'd definitely had enough, I'd say he was about one drink away before putting one foot into the grave. Both luckily and unluckily for the man, one of the many spectators of this competition graciously donated a full mug of beer to the man- though as he reached for his somehow managed to stumble over himself despite he himself being static- causing the cup to tip over.

I wasn't going to let a drink go to waste, and as such, I took it upon myself to rescue the rouge beverage. Extending my arm as quickly as I could I snatched up the mug while it was in free fall.

"I think that we are in agreement here that if you can no longer physically pick up your glass then you lose by forfeit, no?" I asked.

Most everyone around us agree to that, and if my competition wanted to oppose my claim then he'd have to work hard at it as I doubted he could open his maw that stunk of beer.

I proceeded to finish off the other drink in my possession before reaching into the center of the table a scooping up a small pile of coins, "It was fun boys but you've got to try harder next time~."

After comfortably securing my victory I decided that I had enough of that for one day. I saw to it that I took my leave there and then, letting some other participants have a chance at winning.

A loud crack echoed across from a rather large crowd that seemed to be huddled around a similarly massive cage, almost every one of them seemed to be less than pleased with what was going on inside there.

"Do something!"

"Fight back you brat!"

And a larger array of colorful language spewed from the crowd's mouths, craning my neck toward the crowd I looked to see what the commotion was about. I traversed my way across this arena toward what I assumed to be a fight.

After closing the distance between the crowd and myself I noticed the distinct height and weight difference between the two, one was much shorter and skinnier than the other- not to mention the age difference between them. How anyone saw this as a fair fight was beyond me.

I mean for God's sake the boy looked so sleep-deprived he looked like he was about to pass out on his feet, I doubted he needed encouragement from his much scarier opponent.

"Stay back..." He warned, backing up into the corner of the arena. Not realizing where he had walked he was suddenly jolted forward back into the center of the arena by the extreme physicality of the crowd.

It was like pitting a small dog against a wolf.

He stood hunched over as if trying to gain any iota of energy he could, he bent his arms at a 90-degree angle forward, and he just waited there- unmoving. He is opponent charged him like a raging bull, trying to capitalize on his height difference on the much skinnier child.

In retaliation, he ducked the large mass of his opponent throwing the giant off balance now was the prime opportunity to strike back against his foe. Yet he didn't despite going through all the paces to do so.

I doubt I was the only person who noticed it but I watched as he cocked his fist back but then suddenly tensed up and backed off from his opponent.

The boy looked more stressed than before as though he was reliving a bad memory. No doubt he has been in fights before, the way he dodged was in no way a fluke or any sort of luck that was certain.

It stands to reason that he may have had a similar bout to this one, hence his demeanor. The way he weaved and ebbed between his opponent's attacks, just further cemented in my mind that he was adept at fighting.

Still though despite the marginal difference in skill, the boy refused to attack back- I couldn't decipher whether it was due to his lack of awareness or for some other reason. His mind was most likely elsewhere not fully focused on the fight.

"Hit him!" I encouraged from the sides, some spectators averted their gazes from the fight to meet mine, "You kidding? The guy can barely stand on his feet, if you think you could muster any profit out of this fight you'd be mistaken."

What an insulting notion, why would I want to bet on any fight involving a child? I would rather not be here but one of the slavers I need to investigate runs this place, so I really don't have much of a choice in the matter.

I ignored the spectator's comments instead choosing to continue to give my full support to the boy in question who gradually seemed to be slowing down his pace, "Do you want to lose? If you don't start fighting back you'll be beaten to a pulp!"

The boy's attention was drawn from the fight toward me, and that was when I got a good look at his face. He was a demihuman- not just any demihuman but a Hakuko as indicated by the exotic coloring of his hair and his animalistic features. His eyes a sky blue containing a deep black slit, darker still where the bags that lay under his eyes- he looked more dead than he did alive.

I gasped, he looked so worn out, in a way I felt vindictive trying to get him to keep fighting; though I knew that if he didn't, and if he gets knocked to the floor God knows he won't be getting back up.

"Just hit him with all that you've got!" Once again I pressed and pestered him- I relentlessly tried to drill my words into him in order to try and invigorate him.

The Hakuko, narrowly avoid an incoming fist from his opponent- sluggishly dodging out of his way below finally delivering him a formidable punch to his solar plexus winding the large man. Following this, baring his claws he scratched the man across the face- painting five thin lines across his gargantuan head.

My heart skipped a beat watching these matches, never before had I felt such concern for a person I had no connection to in the slightest- I had no idea what to make of these feelings- it was an instinctual feeling I was all too familiar with when the kids back at Luralona got themselves into trouble; or more accurately Keel roping the others into something stupid or dangerous: usually both.

It didn't take much longer for the bout to end. There were a few more back and forths though this time it seemed more one-sided on the kid's side. It was like watching a dancing between two drunken people what with the sloppy footwork and slothful half-assed punches from both combatants.

It ended in the unlikely conclusion of the boy winning, he sat hunched over his opponent's unconscious form- breathing in deeply; I could tell he was fighting relentlessly on the inside. It was indicative of his impending collapse.

"#142 wins! What an unexpected finish! I suspect there will be some very disappointed faces in the audience tonight!" A man just now entering the ring announced to the less-than-pleased audience.

"What's this bullshit, this has to be rigged right?!" A voice from nearby called out.

I did my best to ignore them as well as I could- instead, my gaze focused entirely on the fatigued and sorry state the boy was in.

I couldn't make heads or tails on what to feel at this very moment- but a rather prevalent feeling I was experiencing was gratitude, gratitude for the diligence and fortitude of the boy.

A boy I didn't even know mind you, but there was something about him that emanated familiarity and nostalgia.

Keel.

---

Sorry for the long wait, I hope you've enjoyed the chapter!

Feedback is always appreciated!

I hope you have a fantastic rest of your day :)