Path to Dominance in the Demonic Realm

Morning came quickly, faster than Zrathos had wanted.

His sleep had been brief, but deep, so much so that when he woke to the sound of the door being violently opened, he briefly felt as though he was still dreaming. But the sharp cold that struck his skin quickly brought him to reality.

At the entrance stood three guards, all heavily armed, their eyes cold with the usual indifference of those who treated slaves as worthless objects.

"Get up, you scum!" one of them barked in a harsh voice, then kicked one of the slaves with his foot, causing him to fall to the ground in pain.

The others immediately woke up, some still exhausted, but the fear of punishment was enough to get them moving quickly.

Zrathos stood up calmly, ignoring the pain in his frail muscles. It wasn't as though he wasn't used to pain, but he hated the feeling of helplessness.

This body was still too weak, even after realizing his high potential. He had to work on developing it quickly, or he would remain just another slave in the eyes of these guards.

They all moved quickly outside, where the sun had barely started to rise behind the distant mountains. The air was cold, causing some to shiver, but there was no time for rest.

They were all pushed toward the large wooden carts waiting in the palace's backyard. Each cart was enormous, reinforced with iron, and covered with thick cloth, indicating they were meant to transport slaves over long distances.

Zrathos carefully observed the situation.

There were four carts, each with a driver and two guards standing next to them, along with armed horsemen surrounding the entire group.

"They don't want any trouble... that means the destination isn't a normal place."

He already knew that Lord Karon was taking them to the Shadow Mines, a place even the guards feared, but this heavy guard detail made him wonder: Was there something else unknown about this place?

He didn't have time to think further, as one of the guards shoved him forcefully, making him climb into one of the carts without any choice.

"Move, we don't have all day!" the guard shouted.

The rest of the slaves climbed into the carts one by one until each was filled with an appropriate number.

Inside the cart, the air was stifling, everyone sitting close to each other, each person looking at the other with eyes filled with fear or resignation.

But Zrathos was not like them.

He was staring at the thick cloth covering the cart, the small gaps between the wooden planks, and every detail that might prove useful in the future.

After a few minutes, the caravan moved.

The wheels creaked lightly as they rubbed against the rocky path, and the horses moved forward with steady steps.

"So, the journey begins now."

He breathed slowly, closing his eyes for a moment. He wasn't planning on relaxing, but he needed to organize his thoughts.

If he wanted to survive in the Shadow Mines, he first needed to understand the nature of the place.

He needed to know who the people in charge were, who the strong and weak were, and most importantly... who the real enemies were.

Because in the end, he would not allow himself to remain a slave forever.

This journey might be just the beginning... but it was the start of his plan to regain his power.

...

The carts moved along the rocky road, rattling slightly with each bump, and the sound of creaking wood filled the air. The cold air persisted, even as the sun's rays began to filter through the thick cloth covering the carts. None of the slaves spoke, as if everyone had already resigned themselves to their fate, but Zrathos was not like them.

He sat in the corner of the cart, his back leaning against the hard wood, his eyes observing every small detail. He could see the dim light seeping through the gaps between the planks, and he could hear the guards outside speaking in low voices.

"How long will the journey take?" asked one of the slaves sitting near him in a low voice, as if afraid the guards might hear him.

Another man, a frail one, but with a voice that carried clear experience, answered, "A whole week... if we don't run into any problems on the way."

A week.

Zrathos hadn't expected the journey to be this long, but he wasn't surprised. The mines were located in a remote area, far from towns and villages, meaning it was the perfect place for dirty work that the nobles didn't want anyone to see.

But if the journey was going to take a week, that meant he had enough time to study the situation, and maybe even plan something.

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to clear his mind. He wasn't the type to rush into decisions, but he needed to learn more before he could come up with a real plan.

The hours passed slowly, and the road became rougher. The cart jolted sharply with each turn, causing some of the slaves to groan from the uncomfortable sitting positions.

As day began to fade, the caravan finally stopped.

"Stop here, we'll camp for the night!" came the voice of one of the leaders from outside, and moments later, the doors of the carts were thrown open violently.

The slaves disembarked one by one, their bodies exhausted and their eyes pale from fatigue and hunger. Zrathos also got down, but unlike them, he wasn't mentally drained—he was carefully observing the situation.

They were in an open area, surrounded by trees on three sides, while on the other side, a small river flowed slowly. The place wasn't ideal for rest, but it was sufficient for the guards who started setting up a simple camp.

"Sit here and wait for the food!" one of the guards shouted, pointing to a spot near the river.

The slaves moved toward the area without argument, while some guards began starting fires, and others took positions to watch the area.

Zrathos sat on the ground by the river, but he wasn't thinking about food; he was studying the guards.

There were about fifteen guards, all well-armed, but it was clear that some of them were more skilled than others.

"This might come in handy later..."

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his eager mind. He had to be patient; rushing now would do him no good.

After a few minutes, one of the guards came with a large wooden bowl filled with soup, which he poured into smaller bowls and distributed among the slaves.

When Zrathos received his portion, he stared at the food for a moment. It was nothing more than warm water with a few pieces of vegetables, but for Adryas' frail body, it was better than nothing.

He took a slow sip, while his eyes continued to watch everything around him.

"The journey is still in its early stages, but I won't be just another slave in this caravan."

To be continued...