CHAPTER 39: CH 39: GUESTS FROM OUTSIDE - PART 6

Fredric left the cages with hesitant steps, clutching the blanket Berry had tossed to him earlier.

He glanced back once, almost guiltily, before hurrying off to the small hut that had been assigned for his rest. His figure soon disappeared into the mist that curled low in the valley air.

For a long moment, silence lingered in the cage.

The only sound was the faint rustle of the sprouting grass beneath their feet and the muffled trickle of water running somewhere deeper in the valley.

Then one of the bound men let out a breath.

"...Did you see the way they treated him?"

Another scoffed, though not with conviction.

"Of course I saw. They’re treating him better than any team leader ever treated us back home."

"Better than the higher-ups too. Food. Shelter. Even a blanket for the night. When was the last time we weren’t seen as disposable?"

Another muttered, shifting uncomfortably.

Their voices were low, but their eyes shone with something none of them had dared show in years—hope.

"It might not be a bad idea. Turning over a new leaf... staying here."

One whispered.

"Food’s abundant. No snow choking the land. And that boy—whatever he is—he’s got power. Protection."

"It feels like...like they actually value the people under them."

The first man searched for the words.

Before anyone could nod, a sharp voice cut through their mutterings.

"Idiots. You think you can just walk away from Everette Settlement? You think the higher-ups haven’t accounted for this? Our lives are their assets. The moment you break contract, you’ll be hunted down. You’ll drag your families into ruin."

Jamie sat rigid against the bars, her eyes like flint.

Her glare swept over them, freezing their brief warmth.

"So tell me—do you really think the scraps you see here are worth throwing away everything we clawed and bled for?"

The others shrank under her tone, silence pressing thick between them. For a moment it seemed she had killed their wavering hopes.

Then, one of the younger men spoke, voice heavy.

"Captain... after all these years of clawing and bleeding, tell me—what did we gain?"

Jamie’s eyes flickered.

"Where did it get us? We’re still pawns. Sent to freeze and starve, scraping for supplies. Disposable. Forgotten."

He continued.

His hands tightened on the rope binding him.

"You ask if this risk is worth it—but is clinging to empty promises worth more?"

The words sank into the group like stones dropped in water. Several of them nodded faintly, shame and truth mixing on their faces.

Jamie’s lips parted, but no words came. For the first time, her confidence cracked. The truth struck deep, carving into the wound she had long ignored.

Her chest rose and fell unevenly. She turned away, unable to argue.

The prisoners fell into uneasy quiet. Each man’s thoughts spun in silence, but the seed had been planted.

—

Morning came with pale light spilling over the valley. Mist drifted across the fields, parting just enough to reveal rows of green shoots swaying gently despite the cold season.

The cage door creaked, and footsteps approached.

It was not Fredric who appeared this time.

Lucian stood there, a small wooden tray balanced in his hands. Steam curled from bowls of thick stew, the scent of herbs filling the chilly air.

He set it down in the center of the cage without a word.

The prisoners exchanged wary looks. The boy—if he truly was a boy—carried himself with such calm gravity that none of them dared move first.

Lucian’s golden eyes swept across them, unreadable. Finally, his voice broke the silence.

"Did you think about my offer?"

The men shifted. Then, almost as one, they nodded.

One spoke with surprising firmness.

"We want to sign a contract with you."

Another chimed in.

"We’ve decided. This valley... this life... it’s better than what waits for us back there."

There was no hesitation this time. Their voices carried sincerity, a sharp contrast to the hollow excuses they had given before.

Lucian’s gaze lingered, measuring. The system’s silent confirmation pulsed at the back of his mind.

He gave a slight nod.

"Fine. You’ll be freed."

Relief flickered across their faces as Berry moved to cut their bonds.

But when Jamie stepped forward, expectant, Lucian’s gaze snapped to her.

"And me? Will I not be given the same choice?"

She asked, trying to sound calm.

Lucian’s voice was steady, but cold.

"No. You’re still not certain of yourself. Until you are, you’ll remain here."

Shock flashed across her face.

"You’re going to keep me locked up while my men are freed?"

Lucian did not flinch.

"A contract requires sincerity. Yours is still absent. You’ll have more time to think."

Jamie’s mouth opened, then closed. For once, she found no leverage in her words.

Lucian turned his back on her and faced the three freed soldiers instead. His presence seemed to press down on them as he spoke.

"Understand this clearly. Once you sign a contract with me, betrayal is no longer an option. Do you still agree?"

The men exchanged looks, uncertainty flickering across their expressions—but it was quickly replaced by grim determination.

"We agree."

One said, the others nodding.

But then, almost hesitantly, another added.

"On one condition."

Lucian’s eyes narrowed slightly.

"Speak."

The man drew a breath, shoulders stiff.

"We want to bring our families here. Only then will we sign."

Lucian’s gaze didn’t waver.

"If your families matter that much, then bring them here. Once you’ve signed the contract, you’ll be free to return and guide them back. No one will stop you."

The three men froze, as though waiting for some hidden catch—but there was none in the boy’s calm tone.

One by one, their hesitation melted away. Relief replaced the tightness in their shoulders, and they nodded without another word.

Jamie let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head.

"Fools. You think it’s that easy? Do you really believe you can just walk away and nothing will come of it? Mark my words—you’ll regret this."

Her warning hung in the air, sharp as ice, but the men no longer looked at her. Their decision had been made, and for the first time, they carried the faintest hint of hope in their eyes.