CHAPTER 157: AIRES PERSEUS

Darkness claimed him as the pain overwhelmed his senses.

When Aires’ eyes fluttered open, he found himself in a dimly lit cave, the flickering light barely illuminating his surroundings. Confusion gripped him. "Where am I?" he muttered, his voice echoing faintly.

"Where do you think?" a voice sneered from a shadowed corner.

Aires turned, his gaze landing on a gaunt man huddled in tattered rags, his eyes hollow with hunger. Beside him, there was a woman, her hair was disheveled, and her clothes barely covered her assets.

It wasn’t just them. Others like them filled the cave—malnourished, broken, their faces etched with despair.

’Where is this?’ Aires stood from his corner and walked by, unknowing of the gaze he was receiving. Some stared at Aires with pity, others with scorn, as if he were a fool for not understanding his fate.

But kept moving, his mind racing. ’I attacked a man for holding slaves, and now I’m here. How? Why?’ He didn’t understand.

Following a faint light, he reached the cave’s entrance, where two guards stood watch. Their armor gleamed faintly, their expressions hard.

"Where do you think you’re going?" one growled, his frown deepening.

"There’s been a misunderstanding," Aires said, his voice firm with conviction. "I’m not meant to be here."

The guards exchanged a glance. "He’s a newbie?" the second asked, and the first nodded.

Only a newbie wouldn’t understand their reason for being here.

"Listen, fool," the first guard said. "In case you don’t understand. You’ve committed a serious crime and your punishment is to work here... as a slave."

The word slave struck Aires like a physical blow.

’Me, Aires Perseus, a slave?’ The sole heir of the Sky Clan, reduced to this?

His mind rebelled, and he lunged at the guards, desperation fueling his movements. But before he could close the distance, an invisible force seized him. Pain, sharp and unbearable, tore through his body, forcing a scream from his throat. "Kuahhh!"

"This fucker actually tried to attack us," one guard sneered.

"Every newbie’s the same," the other laughed, delivering a kick that sent Aires crashing back into the cave.

He collided with another prisoner, who staggered to his feet, rage contorting his face.

"Fuck do you think you are?" the man roared, striking Aires with feeble but angry blows.

Seeing another situation to relieve their anger a bit, another slave came at him and joined in the beat. Soon, others joined in, their pent-up frustration finding an outlet in the newcomer. Fists and feet rained down, each hit a release for their own suffering.

Twenty minutes later, when Aires’ body was on the brink of collapse, the guards intervened, dragging him back to the dark corner of the cave where he first woke.

For a full day, Aires remained motionless, his body aching, his mind a storm of disbelief.

He had acted in the name of justice, only to be beaten and enslaved. He had sought to explain his mistake, only to be beaten again. ’What did I do wrong?’ The question looped endlessly in his head as he nursed his bruises. His body was tough enough to withstand those sorts of blows; however, he still felt the pain.

Then there was another issue.

’What’s happening to me?’ Since his attempt to attack the guards, his body had betrayed him, freezing under that excruciating pain. It was then he realized. He felt no energy in his body, like it had been sealed. He scanned the cave, desperate for answers.

Where am I? What does being a slave mean? Did I mistake an evil organization for the Temple of Light?

"Excuse me," a voice called, soft but insistent.

Aires snapped out of his thoughts, turning to see a young woman in her twenties, her blonde hair matted with dirt, her ragged clothes hanging loosely on her malnourished frame. Despite her condition, her faint smile seemed to light up the gloom.

"Y-Yes?" Aires stammered, instinctively guarding his battered body.

"Sorry about earlier," she said, kneeling beside him and gently massaging his sore leg. "Newbies are the only chance they get to vent their frustration."

Aires groaned, both from the relief of her touch and a dawning understanding. "So, why are you here?" she asked.

He hesitated, glancing around to ensure no one hostile was listening. "I’m from the Great Region of gods," he began, noting her shock. "A woman invited me to be a hero candidate. I accepted and came to this temple. Then I saw slaves, chained, and led by a man in red. I attacked him, because it was wrong..."

Laughter and murmurs rippled through the nearby prisoners. "Idiot! He attacked an inquisitor!" one scoffed. "What did he expect?"

"Inquisitors?" Aires asked, tilting his head.

The woman’s expression softened, though her shock lingered at his crime. "Inquisitors are the temple’s justice carriers."

"So, I attacked an official upholding justice?" Aires muttered, then frowned. "But why does the Temple of Light have slaves?"

Another prisoner answered, his voice flat. "Where did they tell you this place was? This is the Temple of Light, not the Temple of Justice. They serve Auriel, the god of light. Their mission is to spread his influence. Anyone who obstructs them becomes a slave. Simple."

The pieces clicked into place.

Aires’ attack on the inquisitor was seen as defiance, a crime against the temple’s authority, and his punishment was enslavement.

’If it’s a punishment, then there must be a way out,’ he thought, but a darker realization followed. He couldn’t help but think it.

’Is this why no one told me about this place?’ Naturally, if he were told this place took in slaves, he wouldn’t have come.

"How does... being a slave work?" he asked, the word bitter on his tongue.

"There’s a slave seal on you," the woman explained. "It prevents you from attacking anyone from the church. That pain you felt? That’s the seal."

Aires touched his body, searching for the invisible mark. ’That’s why I froze?’

"But why can’t I also feel my energy?"

The young lady shook her head, saying, "Slaves don’t have the right to freedom."

"Our time as a slave is measured in money," she continued. "We work for the temple, and the value of our labor is subtracted from our debt."

"How much do you owe?" Aires asked.

She smiled painfully. "Four hundred thousand gold."

His eyes widened. ’That is a lot.’

A single gold coin could sustain a family of three for five decades while living in comfort. Meaning she was to make five decades worth of comfort for over a million people.

Before he could ask what she’d done to earn such a penalty, she spoke again. "Anyway, you’re on the mining team now, and you’re welcome. What’s your name?"

Still dazed, Aires met her gaze. "Aires Perseus."