Knights and Magic Wand

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...The next day.

Li Ang, or rather, Leon, was jolted awake amidst a commotion of piercing screaming and crying.

Rubbing his bleary eyes, he sat up and looked toward the source of the argument.

A good number of mercenaries had gathered outside the cage at some point.

These Kantadar soldiers, protecting a man of obviously higher stature in a military coat adorned with a white bird pattern, might be an officer or noble of Kantadar. The man looked on, impatiently, at the quarreling inside the cage.

Two soldiers inside the cage were roughly holding a woman, trying to drag her outside, while a young boy angrily yelled, clinging to her, kicking and resisting against the mercenaries.

On closer inspection, it was the pair of siblings.

"You bastards!... Let go of my sister!... Let her go! Let her go!!!" The boy's voice was ragged with anger, yet the helplessness and sobbing could be heard in his cries.

But his sister was already crying hysterically, only able to plead in a broken voice for her brother to let go, not to provoke the mercenaries any further.

The Kantadar mercenaries clearly had short tempers. After throwing the girl to the ground, one of them grabbed the boy's hair and yanked him backward, while another mercilessly raised his boot and kicked the boy to the ground.

(Uria Language) "Damn pigs!" the mercenary cursed in foreign profanities, his rage drawing his Armed Sword.

Leon watched, his eyelids twitching reflexively. Any Earthling with a basic sense of morality would be touched by such a sight, and the vivid memories of the original body's parents' gruesome death ignited an uncontrollable anger in him.

However, his reason was warning him that at this moment, he was just an unarmed young man who could do nothing.

His shoulder was pressed down by another hand; turning his head, he saw it was the boy he had met yesterday.

"Better just to take the beating... we can't help him," Azeryan calmly advised Leon.

The pitiable lady thrown on the ground was on the verge of collapse. Seeing the Mercenary Sword pointed at her last family member, her vision blurred with tears, she crawled to the feet of the mercenaries and clutched their ankles, begging them to forgive her relative, "No, no, no... Please don't hurt my brother, I beg you, merciful sirs, I'll go with you... I'll go, just don't hurt him, I beg you..."

The drawn sword of the mercenary halted his step, as he was about to angrily reach and grab the woman's hair. However, his brutal act was stopped by his comrades, another mercenary's head gesturing towards the slave traders outside, which meant the angry mercenary had to temporarily curb his cruelty.

He sheathed his sword and then, grabbing the woman's arms, he yanked her up and continued dragging her outside.

"Cough... Sister... Sister... You Kantadar bastards! Ahhhh!" The struggling boy coughed up blood, his mind clouded by hatred as he charged once more with a roar.

The mercenary blocking his path swung a fierce punch toward the boy, but, unexpectedly, the boy ducked his head and evaded it.

The boy's body slammed directly into the mercenary's embrace, and Leon saw him, despite being shackled, deftly grab for the Sword on the mercenary's waist.

Unfortunately, the mercenary unflusteredly gripped his own Sword, sidestepping while his right leg raised into a knee strike right in the boy's abdomen.

The armor resounded with a thud, and the forceful blow knocked the boy backward, his battered body curling up on the ground.

His weak body couldn't withstand the surge of excitement, and as the mercenary mercilessly stepped forward to add another kick, the boy lost consciousness completely.

"... No!... Please, don't hit him anymore... Sirs... I beg you..." Outside the cage, the brother's sister's heart-wrenching sobs faded farther away as she was dragged off.

(Uria Language) "You little runt, if you weren't worth some money, I'd cut you to pieces..." the mercenary spat at the boy lying unconscious on the ground from the heavy blows, no longer in the mood to linger, and left the cage grumbling.

Finally.

Once more, the surroundings fell into a suppressed silence.

The captives looked back to the ground, numb or sympathetic; no one could help him, nor themselves. People had grown accustomed to such tragic experiences.

Moreover, in a sense, that boy had been luckier than most of the captives, for most of the people here had lost all family members in previous slaughters.

As the mercenaries finally moved away, Leon sighed, stood up, and approached the unconscious boy to briefly check his injuries.

The mercenary's beatings had left a mix of black and blue marks on the boy's body, but luckily there were no deadly wounds, and the boy's robust body was still breathing evenly in his unconscious state.

Leon turned him over, letting the unconscious boy lie on his side.

Beyond that, there wasn't much more he could do.

...

When the unconscious boy came to again, it was already the afternoon.

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The boy opened his red-rimmed eyes, his throat raspy like a wild beast, full of sorrow and anger, as he struggled to rise again, but the pain in his chest and abdomen made him clench his teeth and his body began to twitch.

The pain instinctively made the teenager curl up even tighter, and the mournful howls gradually turned into sobs.

Leon watched the boy, who had buried his face in the ground and was shaking all over, and could only maintain silence, knowing that no pale words would be comforting if he were in the same situation.

After a long time, so long that even the boy's low moans gradually ceased.

As dusk fell, it was time for the mercenaries to feed the prisoners again, and this time Leon was not as slow to react as he had been the day before; he got up promptly to pick up the thrown food.

The half-piece of food that the boy named Azeryan had shared with him yesterday did not last until now in his stomach. Perhaps the memory of gorging on delicious food before the cross-over was too vivid, hastening the intensity of his current hunger.

Whether it was because there were fewer people or the mercenaries were just throwing food in haphazardly, this time there was a little more food thrown in than there were people in the cage.

Leon picked up a piece, looked back at the boy who had lost his sister, who was still curled up motionless in the corner, and so he picked up an extra piece from the ground.

Walking back to the corner, Leon placed the extra piece of dry food in front of the lifeless-looking boy, then sat down and started eating on his own.

By the time he finished eating the coarse, unappetizing food, he still hadn't seen the boy, who now had a vacant look in his eyes, make any movement, like a soulless puppet.

"If you want to starve to death here, then you will never see your sister again," Leon couldn't help but urge.

But the boy still didn't move.

Admitting he wasn't good with words, Leon sighed helplessly, "If you don't want to eat, then I won't be polite. I don't want to stay in this cage forever."

After he finished speaking, he reached out for the piece of dry food. The days before the cross-over, filled with lavish meals, were still fresh in his mind, and now he was so dizzy with hunger that he preferred the unpalatable food to starving.

It was unclear which words had struck the boy, but before Leon's hand could touch the food in front of him, it was suddenly snatched away by the boy with a swift motion.

The boy grabbed the dry food with tight knuckles, his face coming to life with ferocity as he began to gnaw at it.

Seeing this, Leon just shrugged his shoulders, realizing he couldn't have a second helping.

The boy wolfed down the food and then painfully struggled to sit up straight, his eyes staring intently at Leon.

"...?" Leon felt somewhat puzzled under his gaze.

The boy was silent for a while, then moved closer and whispered through clenched teeth, "You said you don't want to stay in the cage forever... Do you... have a way to escape?"

Azeryan, who was nearby, seemed to overhear the conversation, and his gaze drifted over involuntarily.

Leon then understood what had stirred the boy to think there was something behind his words.

"I don't want to become a slave, but I also don't have a way to escape right now," Leon could only shake his head regretfully to the boy.

Seeing the boy's eyes fill with disappointment, Leon frowned and added, "As long as you are alive, there will always be a chance to get out."

The boy slowly lowered his head, looked at the dirty ground beneath him, and after a long time, murmured, "...as long as you are alive."

Dragging his scarred body, the boy leaned against the corner of the bars next to Leon.

Leon, looking at the silent boy, suddenly asked, "My name is Leon, what's yours?"

"...Lokhak," the solidly built boy answered gravely.

Leon glanced at the bruises covering his sturdy body and advised gently, "Don't do anything foolish like that again."

"...What?"

"Do you want to be killed by them before getting a chance to escape? At least stop getting hurt," Leon said, eyeing his injuries. "If you die here, who will be there to save your sister?"

At these words, Lokhak looked deeply at Leon, did not argue, and just nodded silently.

Leon sighed for what seemed like the umpteenth time, his gaze dropping to his own hands firmly shackled in irons.

Pretty words were easy, but reality was still despairing, and any chance one had to rely on was so elusive. Not to mention, leaving aside everything else, just how to get these irons off was a problem in itself.

Leon closed his eyes in resignation and continued to rest.

No matter what, just as he told others, one must conserve enough strength and spirit to survive until a possible opportunity arises.