Chapter Four: The Slaver’s Mistake

  Word of Ash Village’s transformation spread like a virus.

  One day, a slaver caravan approached—a brutal company known as the Iron Chain. Dozens of scarred men, armed to the teeth, with wagons filled with shackled slaves. They saw the battered state of the village and smelled opportunity.

  Their leader, a towering brute named Haskel, smirked as he surveyed the villagers bowing and scraping before a single man.

  "This will be easy," he sneered.

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  They entered without challenge, laughing and barking orders. Some began dragging women from their huts. Others kicked over cooking fires and stole supplies.

  Lucien watched from the ruined temple’s remains, silent.

  Only when a slaver dared lay hands on one of his newly-trained children did he move.

  The attack was swift and surgical.

  Lucien descended like a reaper, his daggers a blur. Throats opened. Spines shattered. Men screamed—briefly. Within seconds, a dozen slavers lay dead, their blood soaking into the cursed soil.

  Haskel roared in rage and charged, wielding a massive war axe enchanted with crude, pulsing runes.

  Lucien met him head-on.

  The duel lasted all of twenty seconds.

  Haskel’s head rolled into the mud, his body collapsing a heartbeat later.

  The surviving slavers threw down their weapons, begging for mercy.

  Lucien offered them none.

  He gave the villagers the pleasure of revenge—allowing them to tear the slavers apart with bare hands and jagged tools. Screams filled the night.

  Lucien harvested the Iron Chain's weapons, armor, and slaves.

  The slaves—broken, hopeless—were given a choice: kneel and serve or join their masters in death.

  Most knelt.

  By the time dawn broke, Ash Village had doubled in size—and Lucien’s army was born.