The Selection, Part 1
Slam!
Half a day after Seya had been captured, the basement door finally swung open with a harsh bang, and three men walked in. Having learned that anyone's entry meant the start of another nightmare, the children scrambled in terror, scattering in all directions. Not that there was anywhere to hide in such a cramped room.
Moving along with the other children, Seya noticed that one of the men was carrying a child clad in rags. I must have looked just like that when they dragged me in here. Just as they had done to Seya, the man threw the child onto the floor. As the kid hit the ground with a dull thud and rolled, quiet whimpers and gasps erupted from the corners of the room.
Standing on either side of a scrawny man was the brute who had captured Seya. The scrawny man, his face a mask of sheer annoyance, pointed toward the wall. "All of you, line up against the wall."
At his command, most of the children scrambled in the direction he pointed. The newcomer, not entirely slow-witted despite groaning in pain, quickly dragged himself over to join them against the wall. Seya and Mir slipped into the crowd, blending in as they took their places.
The skeletal man scanned the terrified children clinging to the wall before speaking again. "Roll up your sleeves."
The children blinked in confusion at the sudden order, but only for a second. When the other two men barked at them to move faster, they frantically struggled to roll up their ragged sleeves. Seya, Mir, and Nihil were among them. Nihil, unable to keep up with the rapid turn of events, was looking around with a bewildered, anxious expression.
Their confusion quickly turned to raw terror. The man standing next to the skeletal leader drew a sharp, gleaming dagger from his coat. At the sudden sight of a blade, sharp screams pierced the air. The noise was instantly choked back, however, after one of the men brutally kicked a child as a warning.
Scratching his head in annoyance, the skeletal man stepped closer to the lined-up children. "Anyone who hesitates will get it worse, so don't try anything stupid. You first. State your age."
"E-eleven..."
As soon as the child answered, the dagger in the other man's hand flashed. A sickening slice of flesh was followed by a sharp shriek. A few children bolted from the line in sheer panic, but the men dragged them back with practiced ease. Ruthless violence rained down on two of them to serve as an example. Consequently, the screams died down, leaving only the sound of muffled sobbing. It was a brutal, blood-drenched display.
Mir bit his lip, his heart racing as he realized the man slicing the children's arms was the very same one who had dragged Seya in. Just as Mir feared, the man stopped in front of Seya, a sly smirk creeping onto his face. "Age."
"Eleven," Seya replied, staring straight ahead. The skeletal man looked up from his parchment and scanned Seya.
"Eleven?"
"Do I look a hundred and ten?"
Despite Seya's incredibly reckless, defiant retort, the man merely narrowed his eyes and studied him. Stepping in for the skeletal leader, the man with the dagger waved the small blade a mere inch from Seya's arm. The sharp tip hovered precariously close to the boy's skin, moving back and forth.
"I can't tell if you're brave or just stupid, but you should pick your battles, kid. Actually, since you've already taken a beating, I don't really need to cut you again. Tell you what. If you beg for forgiveness and lick my boots, maybe I'll let it slide..."
His sneer was instantly wiped away as Seya spat directly into his face.
"Dumbass. If you did that, your boss over there would have to do his job twice. You think he'd just let that slide?" Seya's mocking laugh rubbed salt in the wound.
Wiping his face, the man grabbed Seya's arm with brutal force. "You... I'm going to keep a very close eye on you. By the time I'm done, you'll be begging me to kill you."
To prolong the agony, the man drew the blade across Seya's skin agonizingly slowly.
The moment the men left, Mir rushed over. Seya waved his uninjured hand. "Mir! How's your arm? It's not too deep, is it?" Seya's cheerful tone faltered, his voice trailing off as he saw the near-tears expression on Mir's face.
"If he tells you to lick his boots, you should have just done it! If they tell you to bow, you bow! You do it perfectly fine in front of nobles, so why are you acting like this now?!"
"Hey, that's completely different. You're supposed to act like that in front of nobles."
"Then why can't you just pretend you're supposed to do it here too?!" Mir was a great friend, but he had a tendency to explode like this sometimes.
"I hate walking on eggshells around people who don't deserve our respect. We already have to crawl on the floor the moment we make the slightest mistake." Seya knew Mir's anger stemmed from worry, but he couldn't help grumbling back. "If we keep bowing our heads to every lowlife we meet, we'll forget how to look up."
At that, Mir's face soured, as if he had bitten into something bitter.
"Keep that up, and you won't have a head left to lift."
Seya turned toward the sarcastic voice. Nihil had slipped over and squeezed himself between Seya and Mir. Though he managed a snarky remark, his face was pale as a sheet. He was clearly trying to suppress his terror after witnessing the sudden bloodbath. Well, at least he's trying to act tough instead of just whimpering. Appreciating Nihil's grit, Seya shot back with his own sarcasm.
"What's this? I thought you were planning to live here forever."
"Who said anything about leaving? I'm just keeping an eye on what you guys are up to." Flustered, Nihil blurted out the first excuse that came to mind before turning to Mir. "You've been harping on about escaping since earlier. I take it you have some brilliant plan?"
Mir stared at Nihil's shameless face for a moment, then held out his hand. "If you want information, you have to pay. Did you think you'd get it for free?"
Nihil's eyebrows shot up. "Whoa, hold on! You already squeezed everything you could out of me earlier, and now you're pulling this?"
"Ah, but you spilled all of that voluntarily. Rule number one of business: never show your full hand."
Seya, who had been listening quietly, grabbed Nihil as the boy tried to take a step back. "Voluntarily, my ass! You threatened me!"
"Well, you chose to yield to violence. That's on you," Mir chimed in.
Nihil let out a frustrated growl, grinding his teeth before finally surrendering. "Fine, fine! I get it! I'll give you whatever, okay? But you have to let me in on the plan. Just so you know, the only thing I own is the rag on my back."
Mir had no interest in Nihil's dirty clothes. "Water. Give me your ration of water."
It was a calm, casual demand, but Nihil's face went pale again. "You're not just robbers, you're straight-up thugs! They only give us water once every two days! Are you trying to make me die of thirst?!"
Mir plugged his ears to block out Nihil's furious rant, then turned away. "Suit yourself. It makes no difference to us whether you're with us or not."
Seya threw his arm over the hesitating boy's shoulder, pressing down with a bit of force. "Hey, think carefully. Opportunities like this don't come often. If you miss this chance, you're putting your life on the line for real."
Pressed between one genius brain and one muscle-bound enforcer, Nihil stood no chance. It was a tag-team shakedown so practiced that he could easily picture how the two of them had survived on the streets.
With trembling hands, Nihil finally unhooked the water skin he had carefully kept at his waist and handed it over. The moment Mir received the precious water, however, he tipped it over without hesitation and poured it directly onto his own wound.
"Hey! What are you doing?!" Nihil shrieked in horror, dropping to his knees to try and catch the spilling water, but Mir ignored him and kept washing his cut.
"This is how it heals faster. You have to clean a wound if you want it to heal."
Once his arm was sufficiently washed, Mir grabbed the sleeve of Nihil, who was still sprawled on the floor in shock, and yanked it up. He then poured the remaining water over Nihil's cut. Only when the water skin was half-empty did Mir stop.
While Nihil stared blankly at the puddle on the floor, mourning his lost water, Mir pulled a small jar from his pocket. It was the honey Seya had brought from the Duke's castle. Mir scooped a small dab of it and smeared it directly onto his wound. Nihil could only watch in sheer bewilderment at what this annoying little brat was doing.
"Our goal is to heal as fast as possible and get out of here. So give me your arm."
While Nihil hesitated, Seya grabbed his arm and rolled up the sleeve to speed things along. By the time Nihil managed to pull away from Seya's grip, his arm had already been treated with a sticky, sweet layer of honey.
"Where did you even learn to do this?" Nihil asked suspiciously.
Mir didn't answer, his gaze fixed on Seya, who was sitting quietly and meticulously applying the remaining honey to his own wound. "Seya, put some on yours too."
When the honey was nearly gone, Mir snatched the jar from Seya's hands, scraped out the very last of it, and spread it over Seya's cut.
"...What? You made us put so much on, but you barely used any yourself?" Nihil grumbled again at the sight.
"I don't need it. Mir, you use it." Seya tried to pull his arm back, but Mir held it firmly, meticulously finishing the treatment. Looking at the wound—which the man had intentionally cut deeper than the other children's—Mir had to actively restrain himself from squeezing Seya's arm too hard in his rising anger.
Mir knew Seya didn't actually need this kind of treatment, but he couldn't bear to just sit by and do nothing. Even as his blood boiled with rage, one thing became absolutely clear to him: what these men were looking for were children like Seya. Children who were strong, resilient, healed quickly—children who were different from the rest.
When the Young Duke of Fides met Priest Vesper, the first thing he noticed was the broad smile plastered across the priest's face. Even if someone held a blade to his throat right now, he probably wouldn't lose his composure, the Young Duke thought.
"Thank you for making the long journey here," Priest Vesper greeted.
At his words, Tollin's eyebrows twitched upward. "...To think you would come all this way to greet us. We are deeply honored by your hospitality."
It was hospitable, indeed—far too hospitable. For someone of Priest Vesper's high standing to wait not at the temple entrance, but right where the carriages unloaded, was highly unusual. Tollin warily observed Priest Vesper, who was smiling serenely amidst an oddly tense, heavy atmosphere.
Without sparing Tollin a single glance, Priest Vesper slowly extended a hand toward the Young Duke. "It is my absolute joy to witness the moment the heir of Fides truly becomes a citizen of the Abaran Empire."
"Your words are too kind, Priest Vesper," the Young Duke replied.
Vesper's eyes crinkled into thin crescents. Feeling a cold shiver of unease beneath that polite smile, the Young Duke stepped past him, following the priest's lead.
The source of that unease was revealed almost instantly.
Clank!
Temple knights stepped forward, blocking Tollin as he tried to follow the Young Duke.
"Tollin!" Startled, the Young Duke cried out to his guardian.
"What is the meaning of this?" Tollin glared past the knights at Priest Vesper, who was watching the scene unfold.
"A sinner may not set foot inside the Temple," Vesper replied, his smile never wavering.
"A sinner? What on earth are you—!"
"The young master of the Selby family has gone missing."
A child, and a disappearance. As Tollin froze at the combination of those two highly sensitive words, Priest Vesper continued smoothly. "I heard he was on his way to the Capital to attend the 'training' hosted by the Fides family."
"What does that have to do with us? The Fides family has no obligation to take responsibility for every single occurrence in the Capital—"
"I do not believe that is for you to decide, Tollin."
One did not need to think hard to realize who held more authority than the Fides family. Tollin, not so blinded by anger that he couldn't read between the lines, was forced to shut his mouth in bitter frustration. There was nothing he could do. There were too many eyes watching, and they were standing right in front of the Temple. A single slip of the tongue could bring down unimaginable consequences. He felt utterly powerless.
Tollin turned his head and met the eyes of the Young Duke, who was watching him with deep concern. This was wrong. He hadn't prepared everything just to let the Young Duke walk into that place entirely alone. Unable to suppress his boiling emotions, Tollin glared fiercely at Vesper.
Meeting Tollin's fierce glare with casual indifference, Priest Vesper's gaze shifted past him. The frantic sound of horse hooves clattering against the stone ground drew near, kicking up a cloud of dust. It was a courier. Pushing through the crowd, the horse came to a sudden halt right in front of Tollin. The news the rider brought was devastating.
"Lord Tollin, you must return to the estate immediately. His Highness, the First Prince, is paying a visit to the residence."