Lina's POV, 1th of the month of Dance, year 68,996 of the Solar calendar, in the town of Bersidon, Mountainhome.

 

Mom and Dad leave to check on the preparations for the Dance Festival, so Fuda and I are left alone, a rare thing since there's always someone taking care of the shop.

"Want to see Dad's books?" He immediately asks the moment the door closes.

I frown at him, and he shows a naughty grin, but I don't think I can say no, so I just glare, hoping to convince him not to drag me into this.

But he insists, "See, the other day I got a glimpse of a hidden book under his bed. It's called 'Nojus, Lord of Fire and Brimstone.'"

"Wow…" I mumble.

That sounds so awesome!

Then I glare harder, and he rolls his eyes. "Stop being such a stone."

"It's hidden for a reason," I quietly reply.

He smiles from ear to ear. "Yeah, because it's an adult book, and those are fun!"

"Hmmm…" I grumble hesitantly.

He suddenly grabs my hand and drags me to their room. I could use [Spirit of Gaia] to stop him, but I just pretend to resist so that I can claim innocence if we're caught.

 

Nojus' worth was the same as a pile of coal.

 

"Wow, starting good," Fuda comments with a snort.

I groan loudly, and he continues reading after another snort.

 

The villagers of the Infernal Outpost of Hal didn't use coal for lava was abundant, and Fire mages were aplenty, so nobody needed this "dirty" source of heat. It was also not worthy to export as the Venerable Ones in the heart of Mountainhome had sources better than the heavy mineral that came from the incredibly deep and dangerous Infernal Underground, so coal was thrown away as trash to give room for Fire crystal mining.

Noju's worth was at the same level as trash.

And the young man watched slack-jawed as the fire he started by accident quickly spread all over the peat, disrupting the mining operation in this section of the Bosse Caverns.

The miners shouted and ran out of the dungeon as every Infernal dwarf knows that underground fires are the deadliest poison there could be. They create a completely imperceptible gas that invades the mind, accumulating there until it's almost too late to activate [Spirit of Gaia] to cleanse oneself from it, so fires caused more victims than monster attacks even in the untamed Infernal Underground.

 

"Not really a problem on the Surface," I mumble, and Fuda shushes me, so I flash him a glare.

 

Nojus had no energy to move, the weight of his mistake bearing down upon him like chains. He even felt the desire to jump into the peat fields for the loss of his life would be just as impactful as that of the peat.

But hey, at least once the Water mages controlled the fire they might reveal new Fire crystals born from the flames. You just have to ignore all of the loss in profit from the downtime in mining and the cost of the mana spent by the mages.

Maybe he had actually done something good in the end. At least the Water mages would have work to do… though his fellow miners would feel a bit the loss of income from not being able to work in this section of the Bosse Caverns… Nah, it's not like the Bosse dungeon had been depleted, so the miners of the other sections could share some space with them until the fire here was controlled.

"Yes, that's right, I didn't fuck up," Nojus concluded to himself. "But I did fuck the Boss." Then he snorted and collected his equipment, his conscience free of guilt.

Now the only question was: did someone see him?

The sudden blue light that started to shine from behind him gave him a clue to that answer, and it wasn't in his favor.

Nojus sensed a very frightening flavor of mana, but before he could react, a plank hit him in the stomach, forcefully expelling all the air in his lungs as he was punted away.

His back suddenly hit something, and his mind took a few seconds to understand his body's new orientation, which was laying on the ground, dangerously close to the mound of peat that was starting to catch on fire.

"FUCKIN' BASTAR'D!" A gruff voice with a thick accent blasted in his ears, then a big, booted foot stomped onto his stomach, almost making him puke, but it kept him pinned against the floor. "I SHAW IT! I SHAW YOU D'ROP THE FI'RE G'RUB! BOSSH WILL SKIN YE AND SHELL IT TO THE SCO'RCHED!"

 

I hum in thought and ask, "Do we really speak like this? I don't like how silly our accent sounds in writing."

Fuda snorts and answers, "Of courshe not. The autho'r is a Vene'rable One, and you know they like to make fun of ou'r acchents."

Of Gods, I can hear it! Make it stop!

 

The pleasant fellow on top of Nojus looked like a ghost as his enchanted Runic skin glowed with mana, making the already muscular man stronger than two orcs together. The poor and scrawny Nojus didn't have the [Stonebody] to compete, and even if he did, his MP was already low from using [Spirit of Gaia] to mine all day.

So all Nojus could do was moan in pain and pray that the Watchman would let him go, but the person that hit him was the very same one who's responsible for keeping order in the mines, and Nojus understood that he was inside a crumbling tunnel.

So he begged, "PLEASHE! I DIDN'T… I DIDN'T MEAN-… I T'RIPPED!"

"OF COU'RSHE YOU DID, YOU FUCKEN G'RUB MEAT!" The Watchman bellowed back, then his big hand grabbed onto Nojus' filthy shirt and effortlessly pulled the smaller man up. "SHO I'LL GIVE YE SHOME ADVANCHE PUNISHMENT!"

Nojus froze in fear, then he felt the heat at his back increase, and the ice melted into fiery panic. "PLEASHE, NO! PLEASHE! PLEA-… AAAAAH!"

The miserable miner's back boiled and melted as the burning peat clung to him, the pain so great, so horrible, that he quickly passed out, and he thanked the Gods for this small mercy, but it only left the Watchman unsatisfied.

 

"Oh, Gods!" I exclaim in horror, and even Fuda makes a disgusted face.

 

A bucket of cold water was poured onto Nojus' face, and he immediately woke up after an agonizing second of drowning, but the first thing he did was scream in agony from the pain of his burned back.

He screamed until his throat hurt, the pain making every second last an eternity, so he didn't notice the group of people gathered around him, or how the fattest and wealthiest among them quickly grew annoyed by the screeching hurting his ears.

"Just give him the potion already, you bog-breath," a snooty man ordered with a sneer.

A blue ghost appeared on Nojus' vision, scaring him so badly he pissed himself, the memory of the Watchman burning him obviously fresh in his mind, and now the evil man was back to torment him further.

But then a thick, greasy hand grabbed his filthy face and shoved down a warm, tasty, glowing red liquid down his throat, and the pleasant sensation calmed him enough to begin understanding what was going on.

His vision suddenly turned dark as he was forcefully spun, then the Watchman splashed the HP potion on his back, and Nojus moaned in delight as the burning pain immediately cooled a great amount.

"Now he's pissed himself… ugh. Next time, keep the punishments for after I'm gone. I pay you to do this distasteful work for me, understood?" The increasingly repulsed snooty man chastised.

"Sho'rry, Boss," the Watchman grunted, and Nojus realized the rock was about to fall on his face. The fear of his Fate was so great, he immediately forgot all about the pleasure from the HP potion working to heal his burns.

And so he was forcefully spun again, now giving him a view of The Boss, a fat man with a big beard to hide the folds of his neck, but his robe was awkwardly wide and his very chubby fingers revealed the extent of his laziness. The only thing worse than a fat human was a fat dwarf as they surely had trouble moving, some even requiring the undignified use of crutches just to live.

 

"Wow. Have you ever seen a fat dwarf?" Fuda asks in wonder.

"Why would they come to the Surface? The book just said how hard it is for them to even walk."

"You're right…" He hums and nods.

"Hmph…"

Of course, I am.

 

The Runes on the Watchman's skin stopped glowing, allowing Nojus to see his scarred, rugged, tattooed… and considerably ugly face. Definitely not a man with a good inheritance. Nojus wasn't pretty, and he definitely didn't have a good inheritance to keep his face young and cute as he aged, but at least he wasn't like the Watchman, though Nojus found it quite sad that this was something that comforted him.

And the contrast created by the fat, sneering Boss standing beside the ugly and muscular Watchman was complete once Nojus noticed who else was in the room. He saw his family, the scrawny, dirty, rust-haired trio of Loving Mother, Kind Father, and Affable Sister.

The way the three looked at him had more impact on his mind than even the Boss. Their eyes were tired, disappointed, and cold. Everything Nojus wanted was to see them try to cheer him up, to feel like they enjoyed being in his presence, to have someone that would give him support, like how a real family should, but all he had was disappointment.

Oddly enough, their faces made him feel nostalgic. For as much as they lacked warmth, they still represented home, so he found a minimal amount of comfort and safety near them.

"Nojus, we can't pay the compenshation this time," Father shattered his delusions, the usual fire in his voice gone, now only a casual air that made obvious his lack of concern.

"We almost have enough to pay for you'r shiste'r's [Fire Magic] training," Mother added, her tone so apathetic that Nojus was once again reminded that he held as much worth as trash.

Then he turned his eyes to his younger sibling, the only one who gave him the same look as always, scorn, and he didn't even fault her as Nojus never had the chance to be an older brother for her. She was the cuter of the two, and the only one of their family that could be called "competent," but not only that, she held so much potential within her frail frame that he almost felt compelled to call her Grand Sister… but he might as well since there was only one path his Fate could take.

 

"You're not as bad as her," Fuda casually comments.

I almost smile, but then it hits me. "What do you mean 'not as bad'?!"

"Hehehehe…" He just chuckles and ignores my questions.

 

"You'll be my debt slave until you can repay for the damages," The Boss announced apathetically, then he turned to the Watchman. "Don't give him any important jobs as I don't want a repeat of today to happen again."

The gruff man grunted and nodded obediently, then the fat one waddled his way out of the room, leaving the miserable one with his new Master… and the three who had abandoned him.

Nojus stared at them, and they simply stared back, the four of them in complete silence. What was even there to say? Father was content with the deal, Mother just couldn't muster the energy to care, and Sister just wanted him to disappear from her sight. But Nojus…? He didn't know what to feel.

"Why have I been forsaken?" He thought to himself, his internal tone completely monotonous as he had already resigned himself to his Fate. "Why have I been made to suffer so much?"

The Watchman was growing increasingly uncomfortable with the awkward silence, so he simply grabbed Nojus by the arm and dragged him away like a small sack of mushrooms.

Nojus didn't know that his Fate is his fault. He didn't know how many mistakes he made to get to this point, how many choices there were that could've taken him somewhere better, or even how to escape the overwhelming weight of his debt. There was no light at the end of the tunnel for Nojus.

He was thrown away by his family just like coal, just like thrash.

 

Fuda and I keep quiet. We have a couple of friends who became slaves because their parents couldn't pay a debt, so the story isn't funny anymore.

 

The broom moved back and forth, dragging the soot along with the bristles as they made a dry, scratching sound. Nojus continued to sweep with boring, monotonous movements, slowly stepping to the side as he brought the pile of soot towards the edge of the smithy.

He didn't notice the small jar of sharpening oil that he slowly came closer to, his mind so heavily drawn inwards that a summon would be more aware and lively than the poor young man.

His dirty boot hit the jar, tipping it over, then it shattered as it hit the floor, spreading mildly valuable oil everywhere, which mixed with the soot he was brushing, creating a disgusting gunk that Nojus knew was going to be a pain to clean up.

But then he heard heavy footsteps behind him, and he instinctively protected himself, just in time to cover his face from the dreadful whip as it lashed onto him. Even though the Watchman didn't use his [Runic Enchanting], Nojus could recognize the sadistic man approaching just from his footsteps.

Nojus' mind returned only for a moment as the pain made it once again retreat inward. He'd be allowed to rest on the dirty floor for a minute, and any minute not having to deal with reality was valuable to Nojus.

"Lazy fuck. No seasoning for you again today," the Watchman grumbled, then left Nojus alone.

The others just walked around the miserable slave on the floor, completely ignoring him and his plight. It was like he was invisible to everyone, except the Watchman, and that made Nojus wonder how the ugly man always knew every single mistake that Nojus made.

It was like he enjoyed dishing out punishment…

He clearly loved to hurt Nojus.

And for once in his life, Nojus started to feel indignation. "He's evil. He's a monster born to torment me. And someone like that just can't be a fellow humanoid, right? He must be Wicked. He must, must, must be Wicked…" He thought repeatedly to convince himself.

His mind now fixed onto this belief, he returned to his previous demeanor and continued to monotonously clean the smithy's floor.

 

Once the bell finally rang, he made for the mess hall along with everyone else, but even the other slaves avoided him, believing him to be "cursed" by the God of Luck. He entered the line for the meal, still deep in thought, and took twice as much of the flavorless congee even if he wasn't allowed any seasoning. The feverish repetition in his mind giving him a hunger he never had before.

After eating his filling but boring meal, he took his towel bath, but he didn't return to his sleeping quarters. It was recreation time, so nobody would pay attention to an insignificant slave going across town.

The light from the crystals and mushrooms had died out as they shifted from emitting to absorbing now that Realm was bathed in the power from the Goddess of the Moons, which penetrated solid rock without issue, so it reached even the deep Infernal Underground. But there was still enough illumination to walk around in the dark as a few types of underground plant life reacted to the magical nights by emitting light, making the drab Outpost look like it was under a moonlit night just like in the Surface, and just this small amount of beauty was enough to stun Nojus in awe.

The Infernal Outpost of Hal was just a large cave where small houses carved from boulders huddled up at the floor, and more houses were carved directly on the walls, but the hundreds of scintillating cute little lights stimulated the mind in ways it was hard to explain.

Nojus was already feverish, but now his mind was put on overdrive. Why had he been deprived of happiness, of beauty, of wonder his entire life? What else was there to be seen and experienced that would take his breath away for much longer than this silly little view did?

And why did the slave collar suddenly feel so heavy on his shoulders…?

A sudden burst of laughter from the nearby inn ripped him away from his daze, and he scurried on towards the temple.

 

It didn't take him long to find the white half-sphere, not much bigger than the average house, and a source of jokes for the denizens of the Outpost with how small it was.

Nojus didn't know how large a true temple should be, so he simply moved on, then stopped at the small door and knocked.

"WHAT?!" A grumpy voice replied to the disturbance, making Nojus reflexively cow in fear, terrified of angering anyone.

The door was almost ripped open out of its hinges as an angry, rotund, and scraggly bearded priest pulled it open. Then silence befell them as the Priest failed to notice the small bundle of skin and bones shivering at the floor.

The priest looked to each side in confusion, then finally looked down and blurted out in surprise, "What ails you, little one? Tell this Brother how I can help you." His lack of accent told that he was either a learned man or from the Venerable Home, making Nojus even more intimidated.

But the Priest's gentle tone helped him overcome his natural fear of vigorous people, so he peeked at the bigger man from behind his arms, and the Priest noticed the slave collar, making him realize that he wasn't talking to a child, just to a smaller than normal slave, even for a dwarf.

"Eh? What's wrong with you, slave? Stand up properly and speak," the Older Brother kindly ordered, but Nojus made no move, so the impatient man grabbed his arm and pulled him up. The Priest wasn't particularly strong, so he found it bad news that the slave was so light it was like lifting a broom.

Nojus misunderstood the other's frown, and he engaged "obedience" mode, immediately blurting out whatever he was thinking, "P'riest, what makes one a Wicked?"

"Eh?" The scraggly man hummed nasally again. The oddities of this slave were keeping him off his balance. "You have to commit one of the Sins, which are Torture, Rape, or Reckless Murder," he scholarly answered.

"To'rtu're? How isn't beating slaves To'rtu're?" Nojus asked, bewildered. The sudden shift in demeanor surprised the Priest once again, but the experienced holy man had these talks many times before.

The Older Brother grabbed both of Nojus' shoulders, but didn't rest the weight of his large hands on the smaller man for fear of making his knees buckle. "Young one, are you being punished for your mistakes, or is your Master hurting you without reason?"

Nojus hesitated as he feared physical contact, but a strange warmth came from the Brother's hands, and it penetrated the miserable slave's heart, giving a second wind of bravery. "Without reashon?" He calmly inquired.

The other man nodded and grunted, "Yes. Punishments need a reason, and without one it's Torture."

For the first time in a long while, Nojus stood his ground and stared at someone in the eye. "He has a reashon, but he's still punishing me too much."

"Hmmm…" The Priest grunted impatiently and frowned. Though the young man's pathetic appearance was suspicious, the holy man had seen far too many slaves building wild tales for him to take Nojus at face value.

The gruff man's appearance didn't scare Nojus anymore as the fervor of his conviction returned. He simply couldn't believe that the Gods would allow someone like the Watchman to stand at a greater level than Nojus. The Watchman didn't deserve to be called Grand by Nojus for he was evil, and if Nojus' worth was at the same level as trash, then the Watchman was even lower. That vile man was waste, a disease, a parasite, a plague that needed to be removed from society before it did any more damage.

There was something wrong here, and Nojus was determined to find out. He didn't believe anymore that the Watchman had the right to whip him, for he was no fellow humanoid.

After a couple of seconds of thought, the Priest took his hands off of Nojus' shoulders and started the lecture, "Young one, the difference between punishment and torture is a complex thing. It's common for slaves to be overworked, making them prone to fail or make a mistake, and the Masters simply punish them instead of looking for a real solution. I can go to your Master and discuss your treatment, but I doubt very much it's Torture."

But Nojus wouldn't accept that.

Now that his body was unsupported, he started to sway on his feet as if his legs turned to slime, prompting the Priest to grab him again.

Nojus wouldn't accept this resolution.

He slowly regained the strength in his body as something new and powerful was lit within him, and the Priest frowned as he sensed the thin slave tense up.

Nojus wouldn't accept that the Watchman was simply misguided. He wouldn't accept that the pain he suffered was going to be pushed to the side and thrown away like soot. The trauma in his mind was so fresh he even felt his back burn as that Fateful day flashed in his eyes once again, and how was that not Torture?!

And once Nojus' mouth opened, he couldn't stop himself as his grievances poured out like a flood, "How is it not To'rtu're to always be the're, following me day afte'r day, watching ove'r my back in the da'rkness like a stalking monste'r, waiting fo'r the exact moment that I fail sho that he can launch anothe'r whip at my back, caushe me mishe'ry and pain, and then enjoy it?!

"They give me the wo'rst jobs, the ones that pay the least and numb my soul the most just to d'rive me fu'rthe'r insane! My 'Shanity' is at sheven! SHEVEN! How am I shupposhed to wo'rk my debt off if they neve'r give me the oppo'rtunity to rest and g'row st'ronger or recove'r my MP sho that I can ushe [Spi'rit of Gaia]. HOW IS THAT NOT TO'RTU'RE?!"

The rant left him short of breath, yet he wanted to say so much more, but his mind just couldn't find the words to express his mounting rage, so the two just stared at each other, Nojus' heavy breathing sounding deafeningly loud in the quiet of the night.

The Priest saw the truth in Nojus' words, he knew that this wouldn't end here, but the Infernal Underground wasn't named like that just due to the ever presence of lava. The holy man felt shame at his own impotence, but he needed to make the grim situation clear to the distraught slave, so he steeled himself and prepared his speech.

"My kin, I have to ask you to be strong. I'm the only priest here, and I'm just a healer, so I don't know [Detect Evil]. I can call for a Templar, but it'll take time for one to come. I can shelter you until then, but if your Master came to reclaim you, I wouldn't be able to stop them, and they'd likely even punish you further, so it might be best if you returned to your job and continued to work as if nothing happened until the Templar came."

Nojus suddenly felt cold, not depressed, just cold. His "Piety" was a mere 10, but that was simply the standard, and not enough for him to be considered ostracized by the Gods.

He had simply been abandoned… by everyone.

Without even saying another word, he turned around and ran.

He ran from the Priest, from the commoners making merry, the workers returning from home, his fellow slaves enjoying recreation time, his evil tormentor, his absent Master, his deserting family, and from the Gods that forsook him…

He ran out of the outpost and into the wild, dangerous Infernal Underground. The gates were open to keep the air circulating, and the guards didn't even move to stop him, they just watched as a crazy slave ran to their death.

Tomorrow, the Watchman would notice his absence, and the relentless sadist would then learn that Nojus was spotted running away the previous night, but he wouldn't even raise an eyebrow at it. No slave was worth delving into the Underground.

 

"Oh, Gods. This is horrible. This story is horrible. Why are we reading this?!" I exclaim, horrified.

"How do you think a slave became a Lord? This is just the beginning!" Fuda replies excitedly.

I really want to stop, but I can't for some reason, and it's not Fuda's encouragement. I hate this story… but I also love it.