Bab 873: A Small Problem

"Keep up," I said sternly, addressing the slave, ensuring he maintained a close pace with us. We moved with swift precision, but without using any Qi to boost our speed. It was essential to remain undetected. We had no idea where the enemy might be hiding, and staying low-profile was our only defense in this unfamiliar and hostile territory. Every step had to be measured, every breath quiet.

The slave, bound in his heavy chains, moved silently. His restraint wasn't just physical—it was mental, ingrained deeply into his spirit. He knew better than to make a sound. After all, he understood perfectly that his fate was tightly linked to mine. If I were to die, so would he. His survival now depended entirely on keeping me alive. It was a twisted irony, and part of me—though a very small part—wondered if it was too much, this life of enslavement I had subjected him to. But only for a fleeting moment. After all, he had coveted what was never his to take.