Standing at the entrance, Solaan heard the other slaves whisper.
Some even pointed at him.
He could guess what they were saying. Anyone would, a slave who had been accused of being an associate in mutiny come back alive.
In this Empire, that was news that would raise many eyebrows.
Ignoring them, he stepped into the courtyard of the chambers, locating his room by memory.
Entering the room, everything felt familiar and comfortable. As though he had always lived here.
He even had the urge to fall onto the small mattress in the corner and go to sleep.
It was a small room that would barely be able to contain three people at the same time, the room had no windows or anything special about it.
Who am I, Truly?
It was a fact that Solaan Khan had passed away… There was no doubt there, however, so had Solaan the slave.
His life force had been drained clean.
He doubted his identity because of two things. From the slave's memory, this wasn't the same world he was from.
At least that's what he theorized.
The languages, the air, the energy, the very rhythm of life—it felt foreign.
Secondly, because his memories of Solaan Khan carried great knowledge and power, moreover, his Neili Sense, he felt that even if he was truly Solaan the slave, his other identity was too strong for the meek mind of the slave to tame.
Even if he was truly the slave boy, the other self had consumed him.
A case of one body, two minds. But one mind, two lives.
"Why am I so distraught about this?" He laughed.
Solaan shook his head as he found himself a place to sit.
Regardless of who he was, both Solaans were dead.
One was the son of a powerful clan that ruled vast lands and controlled the lives of thousands. A descendant of the great Khan who stood above others. And yet, he died.
And then the other was born a lowly slave, framed and died as a lowly slave.
Apart from their name, the only other striking thing they had in common was that they both died.
"Regardless of who I am, it is unbefitting for either of the Solaans to remain a slave. And as for my other life… holding on to grudges from that life might affect my cultivation."
Solaan paused.
Some things were easier said than done. His family, Gillard… all that he had achieved, compared to the life of the slave where it was easier to let go when he had nothing, it wasn't the same for the descendants of Khan.
"Cultivating to the peak should be my priority. And also, proving my innocence. This world seems to be more dangerous than the other one." He muttered.
At the moment, Solaan didn't want to think much anymore. He folded his legs and continued cultivating his Blood Pulse method.
His ancestor, the great Khan, had created seven levels to the Blood Pulse Method.
Solaan had stepped into the First Pulse, the first stage of the Way of the Khans.
Since I'm starting again… should I try using the Blood Pulse Method on the other organs?
This was an idea he got long after he began cultivating. At that time, he was at the sixth level of the Blood Pulse Method and his body was already too strong for him to attempt such.
The Khans were rigid, sometimes way too deep in their own box that they refused to think outside of it.
It's feasible, but dangerous. It's still unfamiliar territory. I'd better continue with the heart for now. I'll have to secure healing herbs before using the art on another organ.
With that thought in mind, he pushed all thoughts away and focused on cultivating his heart.
…
That was how an entire night went by.
When it was an hour before dawn, a bronze bell, fixed to the center of the courtyard of the Slaves' Chambers, rang.
When the noise reached Solaan's ear, he could already tell what it was.
The slaves all woke up before their masters. To eat, clean, fetch water, and prepare all that would be needed to make things easier for their superiors.
This was the norm.
Every slave had their duties assigned to them, and Solaan's own had always been to sweep and scrub the floors of Prince Lioren's chambers.
Even though it had only been a night, Solaan had reached the peak of the First Pulse stage. Especially since he was able to reap a good amount of life force from that emblem, it wasn't a hard thing to accomplish.
He could have even stepped into the second stage, however, he didn't want to ruin his chances of testing out his idea of using the Blood Pulse Method on other organs.
Walking out of his room, he stepped out to a crowd of male slaves, some already dressed and ready for their duties.
Many were naked, with a wooden bucket in their hands. They were making their way down the mountain path, to a stream where most slaves of the Eastern Wing bathed.
I'll have my bath later.
The thought of being around hundreds of naked men, while also being naked, didn't sit well with him. Going back into his room, Solaan had a bowl of water in his room.
Looking into this bowl, he saw his reflection and was immediately stunned.
The face in the reflection looked a lot like that of his other life. If not for the fact that this body had been malnourished, he was certain that his current features would be an exact image of his previous one.
Also, he noticed a diamond-shaped mark on his forehead.
In this world, that was the mark of a slave.
Quite unrefined.
He knew what it meant. It was a mark, but also a leash, one that made it almost impossible for slaves to run away, or betray their masters.
Solaan washed his face with a wet towel and changed his clothes.
The slaves of the Imperial Palace had a uniform, a light green attire, and each wing had an embroidered symbol on their uniforms.
Stepping out of his room once again, Solaan paused.
Sweeping the floor…
Something he had always done, and had never done before. Nonetheless, he shrugged his shoulders, not looking down at the duty.
Just when he had taken a few steps forward, he saw a slave pointing at him.
Beside this slave were two men who were dressed in bronze armor.
"Solaan?"
One of the men asked.
"Yes?"
"His Majesty, The Emperor has ordered that you attend the Morning Court today." As the guard said this, they both turned and began walking away.
As for Solaan, he felt as though trouble was heading his way.
A Third Tier slave attending Morning Court? Never heard of it before.