Chapter 175: A Shield for the Wolf
At 9 years old, your life as a slave took its darkest turn. You were assigned to a combat slave squad, a unit more accurately described as 'cannon fodder'. Your new partner was a Foxian girl named Saran. She was a whirlwind of reckless ferocity, seemingly possessing a death wish.
Whenever the harsh blare of the Borisin war horn sounded, you were both forced to the front lines, using your bodies as shields for the true Borisin warriors. The battlefield was a hellscape of flashing blades, sizzling energy bolts, and the constant, visceral sounds of slaughter.
Saran charged into this chaos with a terrifying, life-or-death abandon. She fought without regard for her own safety, her only goal to take down as many enemies as possible before she fell.
You, on the other hand, were a shadow. Your powerful [Abundance's Blessing] self-healing ability became your most vital secret. While Saran accumulated grievous wounds, you endured them. Swords that pierced your chest and arrows that found your body were agonizing, but the wounds would stitch themselves closed in a horrifying, rapid display of regeneration.
Again and again, you dragged Saran back from the brink of death, your healing power knitting her torn flesh back together while you fought off attackers. She never thanked you. She would just spit blood, glare at you with her wild green eyes, and charge back into the fray.
You never once revealed your other, more terrifying ability. The [Mystic Eyes of Death Perception] remained your ultimate trump card, a secret hidden behind the mask of a resilient, unkillable slave.
Within a single, bloody year, you and Saran had survived countless battles that should have claimed you a hundred times over.
At 10 years old, your joint performance—her as the insane berserker, you as the undying shield—earned you a grotesque form of recognition. The Borisin Warlord you served was promoted, largely thanks to the chaos his 'immortal' slave squad caused.
As a reward, he became marginally less cruel. He would toss you extra scraps of food or a few low-grade healing salves. "Here, my pets," he would sneer. "Don't die too quickly."
Every time, you would hoard these precious supplies. You would return to the dark, damp cell you shared with the others.
"Sister Saran, you're bleeding again," Jiang Li's small voice would tremble as Saran stumbled in, covered in fresh wounds. Your sister, now ten, had seen too much, but the light in her eyes had not been extinguished. It had simply hardened, like a diamond.
While Neergul, now nine, watched in grim silence, Jiang Li would gently clean Saran's wounds with rough cloth strips.
"If it hurts, just say so," Jiang Li would whisper, her touch surprisingly gentle.
Saran would just grunt, flinching away from the contact but ultimately allowing the child to tend to her.
You would quietly divide the extra food, giving the largest portions to Jiang Li and Neergul, and the last piece to Saran. Two years of life in the mining area had not broken your sister; it had made her resilient. And it had forged a strange, unspoken bond between the four of you.
At 11 years old, the promoted Warlord grew even more greedy. He summoned you and Saran to his private quarters.
"My two favorite dogs," he said, his voice slick with false camaraderie. "I have a big deal for you, a real bone to chew on." He unfurled a map, pointing to a heavily fortified location. "A Cloud Knights outpost. They've been a thorn in my side for months."
You knew instantly it was a trap. A fortified outpost? It was a suicide mission.
"I know it's difficult," the Warlord continued, his eyes glinting with malice. "But the rewards are great. If you succeed... I'll transfer your little sister out of the mining area." He leaned in, his hot breath washing over you. "She's getting to be a pretty little thing. It would be a shame if something... happened to her down there. But she'll be safe, of course. With me."
The veiled threat was as clear as a blade to the throat. You had no choice.
"We'll do it," you said, your voice cold and empty.
The battle was a brutal, bloody affair. The Cloud Knights outpost was more heavily defended than you could have imagined. Borisin combat slaves fell in waves, their bodies piling up in the snow. Finally, just as you and Saran broke through the main gate, a trap was sprung.
Dozens of Cloud Knights soldiers, fresh and fully armored, surrounded you. You were the only two left standing in a courtyard of corpses.
"Heh... looks like this is it, kid," Saran panted, leaning on her blade. She managed a bloody grin. "It was a good day to die."
"I'm not dying here," you replied, scanning the circle of enemies.
At that moment, Saran let out an inhuman roar! You watched in shock as her body trembled violently. Silver fur grew wildly from her skin, her nails elongated into razor-sharp claws, and her green eyes were completely engulfed by a blood-red light!
[Inorin's Note: Moon Madness is a specific racial trait of Saran's subspecies, a berserker state that grants immense power at the cost of sanity.]
"Kill! Kill all of you!" Saran, now a mad demon, charged at the Cloud Knights. Her claws tore through their advanced armor as if it were paper, her fangs ripping through their long spears.
The Cloud Knights, stunned by the sudden transformation, focused all their attacks on her. A volley of arrows rained down, and spears thrust from all directions.
"Saran!" You moved, planting yourself directly in her path. The arrows thudded into your back and chest. A spear pierced clean through your shoulder, pinning you in place. You didn't flinch.
As the wounds gushed blood, the [Abundance's Blessing] activated, flesh and sinew knitting back together at a visible, horrifying rate. You tore the spear from your shoulder and roared, your voice raw.
"I'll be your shield! GO!"
With you as her anchor, absorbing the fatal blows, Saran became an unstoppable killing machine. This bloody battle lasted for two full hours.
When the last Cloud Knight fell, his head rolling across the courtyard, you were a living pincushion, with a dozen arrows and three broken spears still stuck in your body.
Saran's Moon Madness had not yet ended. Her crimson eyes turned to you, her sharp claws raised high—
You didn't dodge. You didn't even raise a hand to defend yourself.
The sharp claws pierced your abdomen, lifting you off your feet. "Saran..." You endured the severe pain, grabbing her furred arm with your blood-soaked hands. "Wake up..."
The blood-red light in her eyes flickered. Reason returned. She looked at her claws buried in your gut, then at your calm face, and her eyes widened in horror.
"Orion...?"
Her strength vanished, and she fainted in your arms.
You pulled her claws out of your stomach, the grievous wound already beginning to seal. You methodically pulled the arrows and spears from your body, one by one. Then, you carried the unconscious Saran on your back and walked out of the ruined outpost.
When the Borisin Warlord saw you, his eyes nearly popped out of his skull. "You... you actually came back alive?! And the outpost?"
"Taken down," you said, dumping Saran's body at his feet. "My sister."
Amidst his ecstasy, the leader kept his promise. Jiang Li was transferred out of the mining area. As an unexpected "bonus," he allowed the quiet Neergul to be transferred with her, assigning them to the relative safety of the servant's quarters.
[Annihilated the Cloud Knights outpost, Villain Value +500!]
At 12 years old, your performance made you and Saran living "legends" among the slaves. But this also attracted jealousy and hatred.
"Traitors!" other Foxian slaves would hiss at you from their cells. "Serving the Borisin as dogs! You kill our own kind for those beasts!"
Whenever this happened, you and Saran would wordlessly teach those hateful 'compatriots' a lesson. Due to the repeated brawls, you were often locked in solitary confinement.
In the cold darkness, the two of you sat back-to-back, the silence broken only by the drip of water.
"Do you have any wishes?" she suddenly asked, her voice rough.
"Wishes?"
"Mm. My wish is simple... freedom." Her voice was low, filled with a biting hatred. "And to kill every last Borisin bastard on this ship."
"My wish..." you thought for a moment, the faces of Jiang Li, Neergul, and the wounded woman at your back flashing in your mind. "Probably... to protect the people important to me. Jiang Li... and you, and Neergul."
Saran was silent for a long moment. "...How... boring a wish."
"The feeling's mutual," you retorted.
In the darkness, two bloody, weary teenagers smiled at each other.