VOLUME 11: CHAPTER 3

VOLUME 11: CHAPTER 3

“How… surprising. Although your legs are broken, your body is surprisingly fine,” said a goat beastman. “A week of rest should do it. You’re good to go.”

After their battle, Van was taken to the infirmary to be treated. Currently, his entirely body was bandaged, and both of his legs were splinted.

“I’ve seen your match myself,” said the goat beastman. “And it was the first time I’ve seen a rabbit fight that way.”

The members of the Goat Tribe were renowned for their medical knowledge. Due to this, despite their mediocre strength, they were highly regarded within the Alliance.

“The entire arena was destroyed,” continued the goat beastman. “And it wouldn’t have been surprising if both of you died as a result. But—” he looked at Van, then at the massive whale beastman leaning on the wall, right next to the door. “—surprisingly, both of you are fine.”

Van’s gaze moved toward Hatch, who’d been silently waiting for the goat beastman to finish checking his condition. Although Hatch sustained innumerable wounds from their battle, most of them had been fully healed by now. Even the deepest cut Van had inflicted on him had now become just a scratch.

“It feels unfair, seeing how all of your wounds have already been naturally healed by your body,” said Van in a displeased voice.

Hatch grinned. “This much is a given. Even among the whales, my body is the strongest. My uncle, the Tribal Chief, said that I was born with a perfect body.”

Hatch said to the healer, “Hey, grass muncher. When are they going to resume the tournament?”

“Show some respect to your elders, brat.” The goat beastman frowned. “And why are you asking me? If you have any concerns regarding the tournament, just ask the damn snakes about it.”

The goat beastman opened the door. He spat, “If you were concerned about the tournament, you shouldn’t have destroyed the arena in the first place. Now, get out.”

Hatch and Van locked eyes with each other. Concurrently, they shrugged. Although the goat beastman was grumpy, his healing skills were topnotch.

“Thank you.” Van bowed his head to the healer. “We’ll be on our way then.”

The goat beastman snorted. “Good. Unlike that big whale, you have manners.”

The black rabbit and the massive whale left the infirmary and started walking through the coliseum’s corridors.

“Which inn are you staying at?” said Hatch.

“Why should I tell you that?” retorted Van. Seeing the whale’s expectant gaze, Van paused then added, “The inn near the statue of the God of Harvest. The one next to the plaza. That’s where I’m currently staying.”

“The inn managed by the Bull Tribe. The Big Mug, was it?” said Hatch. “It’s a good place. You should be safe there until you fully recover. Let’s go.”

Van said bewilderedly, “Wait, you’re coming with me?”

A rabbit and a whale. No matter who looked at it, it was a strange combination.

“That’s right,” said Hatch. His giant axe was still resting on his shoulder.

“It’s nearby. I can walk all the way there,” said Van.

Hatch let out a small laugh. “Are you sure about that? Look around you.”

As they walked through the corridor of the coliseum, Van noticed the wary gazes of the beastmen they passed by along the way. Most of these beastmen were warriors participating in this tournament, and they’d seen the fight between the black rabbit and the whale. Although they looked at Hatch with reverence, Van could feel their hostility whenever they looked at him.

It seemed that in the end, his status as a mere rabbit still mattered to these warriors. They probably found it insulting that a rabbit had managed to become this strong. Moreover, it appeared that he was now on friendly terms with the Bloody Whale.

Van looked at his splinted legs. He finally realized why Hatch waited inside the infirmary while Van was being treated, and why he offered to escort him all the way to his inn.

Had Hatch not been around, some of these beastmen warriors would have probably used this opportunity to further cripple Van.

“How pathetic,” said Hatch. “And they call themselves warriors? So what if you’re a rabbit? You’ve already proven your strength to everyone after our battle. At this point, which tribe you belong to should no longer matter.”

Tired of the unfriendly and hostile gazes thrown at Van, Hatch struck the shaft of his battle axe against the ground. He growled at the beastmen nearby, “What are you looking at? If I catch anyone of you staring in our direction, I’ll gauge your eyes out and feed them to the burrcats!”

The threat was extremely effective.

The beastmen around them lowered their gazes. None of them dared raise their heads out of fear of the Bloody Whale.

Hatch snorted. He matched his walking speed with the rabbit as they made their way out of the Magna Coliseum.

“Hey, I’m curious,” said Hatch. “Why did you join this tournament?”

Hatch felt that the black rabbit wasn’t after prestige or honor. He also felt that the black rabbit had no real intention of fighting against the Beast King after being crowned winner of the competition.

“Is it for money? For title, for land?” said Hatch.

Van remained silent.

Hatch grumbled, “You’re no fun. Although the time we’ve spent together is short, at this point, aren’t we friends already?”

“I’m not your friend,” said Van coldly.

Hatch brushed the comment aside. He laughed. “Sure.” He leaned his head closer. “So, tell me already.”

Van sighed. “I have no interest in the right to challenge the Beast King. Just winning the finals is enough for me. What I’m after is the auxiliary reward.”

“I thought so,” said Hatch.

“Fior of the Third Legion,” said Van. “Sounds familiar?”

“The strategist?” said Hatch.

Van nodded. “He’s my little brother.”

Hatch murmured, “I see. Last time I’ve heard, he’d been turned into a slave the moment he returned to this country.”

Although the defeat of the Third Legion rested mainly on the decision of General Urkawi, there were members of the higher-ups who pinned the blame to the strategist rabbit. It was a shameful defeat that followed the Rabbit Tribe, even now.

Van said, “Once I win this tournament, I’m going to use the reward to free him from slavery.”

Although it was possible to buy one’s freedom with money, it was an entirely different matter for those who’d been enslaved through the directives of the Alliance itself. Generally, for such cases, the beastman would have to rot away as a slave for the rest of his life.

The two of them finally got out of the Magna Coliseum. Outside, they saw several bear beastmen carrying thick slabs of stones and masonry tools. It seemed that they planned on fixing the destroyed arena as soon as possible.

“I see. Slavery, huh?” said Hatch. Everything finally made sense. He finally knew the reason why this rabbit what so desperate to win their duel back then. “Very well. If I win this tournament, I’ll ask for the freedom of your little brother.”

Van halted in his tracks. He asked in disbelief, “Are you serious?”

Hatch grinned. “When I was young, our Chief said to me that our rivals are basically our friends. It’s rare to meet one, so we should treasure them.”

How unexpected.

Despite his massive size, notorious reputation, and threatening appearance, the so-called Bloody Whale was surprisingly pure and innocent in this regard.

“And this much is natural for friends, right?” said Hatch.

A subtle smile formed on Van’s face. In a voice lighter than before, he replied, “I told you already. I’m not your friend.”

Hatch laughed out loud, “Of course! Of course!”

Hatch patted Van’s shoulder with his massive hand.

“Your inn should be nearby, let’s—”

Hatch, and everyone else around him froze. He stopped midway his speech and looked up. Even the bear beastmen who’d been transporting the slabs of stone were currently gazing at the sky.

“What’s… that?” mumbled Hatch.

Without warning, cracks started forming in the sky. The clouds started parting, and the rifts that had formed above started twisting and bending, as though they were alive. The sky screamed, and massive pressure swept over everyone.

“What’s happening?”

“The sky is breaking apart!”

“Are the Three Gods finally descending to this realm?!”

Panic naturally ensued as the beastmen witnessed this peculiar phenomenon. For everyone, this was their first time seeing the sky being ripped open apart.

The bells of the city rang, and the army started evacuating the citizens into their shelters. The battlemages readied their spells, and the archers nocked their arrows. The warriors unsheathed their swords. Hatch gripped the shaft of his battle axe tightly, as he warily watched the rifts in the sky.

They steeled themselves for battle, but to their surprise, after several minutes, the veins of mana started moving southward, eventually vanishing from sight.

The beastmen around them started heaving sighs of relief. They were glad that no catastrophe befell their city.

But Van was different.

With a grim face, he looked at the southern direction – at the place where the veins of mana disappeared to.

To the North of the United Grakas Alliance was the Kingdom of Lukas.

To the West was the Mullgray Islands.

To the East were the Kingdom of Thornforge and the Dukedom of Mauko.

To the South was the Iron Mountains – a mountain range rich in iron ore.

And further beyond the Iron Mountains was monster territory – The Wasteland.

“The iron mines,” mumbled Van.

Van was uneasy.

The iron mines was the place where his little brother, the former strategist Fior, was working as a slave.

***

[Iron Mountains]

The Iron Mountains was a massive mountain range that served as the border between the United Grakas Alliance and the Wasteland.

Despite its height and location, the Iron Mountains were arid throughout all seasons. It was a dry and barren territory where no animals lived, and no plants grew. A land filled with nothing but rocks and mineral reserves.

This place had been Fior’s home for the past three years.

“Damn mutts!” shouted the Foreman. His voice resounded throughout the tunnels of Zone F. “Dinner is ready! You have fifteen minutes! Those who fails to come to the entrance will have their meals forfeited!”

The Iron Mountains was divided into seventeen zones. And each zone was composed of over a hundred tunnels leading deeper into the mountains.

Temujin, a frog beastman, was the Foreman assigned to oversee the slaves working in Zone F.

“Hurry up! Where are the others!” shouted Temujin.

Numerous slaves of various sizes started coming out of the tunnels. Some belonged to the dog tribe, wolf tribe, rabbit tribe, goat tribe, and there were even those who belonged to the bear tribe and the lion tribe.

Although most of these slaves were criminals, there were also those who were sold off by their family to pay for their debts.

Although this system was cruel, the Alliance deemed the necessity of slaves in the Iron Mountains. For a militaristic nation, iron was a precious resource.

Fior silently queued in the long line of slaves. A steel collar, which rendered slaves like him unable to go against their master, was wrapped around his neck.

“Here’s your meal.”

Another frog beastman, who served as one of Temujin’s assistants, handed Fior his meal – a half loaf of bread and a single strip of meat jerky. His skin flask was also refilled with water from the wooden barrel nearby.

“Thank you,” said Fior in a low voice.

“Next!” said the frog beastman handing out the rations.

Without going back to the inner tunnels, Fior started eating the ration given to him. His years of experience in the mines had already taught him that nothing good would come out of bringing his food with him inside. Although they said that all slaves were equal in the Iron Mountains, Fior knew that reality was different. The slaves belonging to the stronger tribes would frequently take away the food and belongings of the weaker ones. And a rabbit like Fior was a tasty target for those bastards.

“Hey, you’re giving us only this?” A voice of protest was heard nearby.

The slaves who’d already received their meals, and those who were still in queue, froze upon hearing this. They all looked at the foolish beastman who dared raised such question before the Foreman. Those who were aware of the Foreman’s temperament started backing away from terror. There were even those who started entering the tunnels they assigned to them to seek refuge.

“What did you say, pipsqueak?” said Temujin.

To Fior’s surprise, the daredevil who spoke was a fellow rabbit. Judging by his clean fur and lack of visible injuries, this was the slave’s first day at the mines.

“I’m asking why you’re giving us only this!” said the rabbit. “You gave us only a single strip of meat jerky in the morning, you gave us nothing this noon, and now this! How are we supposed to survive in the mines with only this much!”

Groaning sounds were heard from the other slaves nearby. It had been quite some time before a stupidly foolish slaves had arrived in the mines. They couldn’t believe that the rabbit still couldn’t comprehend his current situation.

Temujin chuckled, “So, you’re saying that you want more food?”

The rabbit nodded his head resolutely. “Exactly.”

The Foreman laughed loudly. Although he was smiling, his bulging eyes were glaring at the rabbit.

“It seems that you lack manners,” said Temujin. “You damn toothface. Know your place.” He roared, “Kneel!”

The collar on the rabbit’s neck glowed, and excruciating pain started coursing throughout his entire body. The rabbit fell weakly on the ground. He clutched at the collar instinctively, but it did nothing but intensify the pain on his body.

“Didn’t you hear me!” growled the frog beastman. He started whipping the rabbit, making blood, flesh, and fur fly about. “Kneel!”

The rabbit cried and wailed. He squirmed in pain, still unable to understand what was happening to him. After a full minute of torture, he finally realized what he needed to do. He bent his knees and knelt before the Foreman.

“Good,” said Temujin. He condescendingly looked at the rabbit kneeling below. “I understand that it’s your first day, but there’s a fine line between foolishness and braveness.”

Temujin looked at the slaves around him. The entire tunnel had become quiet. “Listen well. All of you are nothing but slaves in this mountain.”

The slaves averted their gazes, afraid of earning the ire of the Foreman.

“No matter which tribe you came from, no matter what status you previously held,” said Temujin. “All of those are now meaningless. In this mountain, us Foremen hold all authority. We set the rules! If we tell you to crawl, you crawl! If we tell you to lick our feet, you lick them! If we tell you to jump and die, you jump and die! It’s that simple!”

The rabbit who protested about the food was still pallid from pain and fear. He remained frozen in place, his knees bent and his head lowered.

“Name?” said Temujin.

The rabbit stuttered, “A-Arlo, Foreman.”

The rabbit was clearly more subservient than before. Temujin smirked in satisfaction.

“Be glad, for I am in a good mood tonight,” said Temujin. “This morning, I’ve received news that my beloved wife had had just given birth to seven healthy frogs.”

“C-Congratulations, Foreman,” said Arlo.

No one knew who did it first, but when a slave clapped his hands, the rest immediately followed suit. Hearing the round of applause, Temujin’s face turned visibly brighter than before.

“For now, I shall let this pass,” said Temujin. “But I will remember you. The next time you make a blunder like this, I shall feed you to the monsters of the Wasteland.”

Arlo trembled. “Y-Yes. Thank you, F-Foreman.”

Temujin looked around him. His gaze landed on Fior.

“Fior,” said Temujin. “Come here.”

“Yes, Foreman,” said Fior.

“Teach this newbie the ins and outs of this place,” said Temujin. “You shall be responsible for him. You’re willing to do this much for a fellow rabbit, no?”

If Fior had a choice, he would have refused this outright. Just by that single interaction alone, Fior knew that the rabbit called Arlo wasn’t that bright. A stupidly naïve rabbit who probably wouldn’t survive in the mines for long. Still, Fior knew that he couldn’t voice his real thoughts out loud.

“I shall follow your will, Foreman,” said Fior.

Temujin nodded. “If only all rabbits are like you, Fior, there wouldn’t be any problems in Zone F.”

Fior was a well-known hard worker.

For some strange reason, he was the only slave who’d never once missed his quota for the day. The amount of iron he would submit to the Foreman at the end of the day was always the exact amount. His equipment was always kept in perfect condition, and although he was frequently bullied during his first year, from his second year onwards, he’d never been in a scuffle with the other slaves again.

Fior was the exact definition of a perfect slave. And had he been a frog beastman instead of a damn rabbit, the Foreman would have already appointed him as one of his assistants.