Chapter 70: Tools and Trash
The warehouse today was different from others.
For one, it was packed full. Roderick had gathered the others from different warehouses.
While the slaves had no choice but to bunch up together for the lecture, one person had a free spot.
Of course, it was Oliver.
Roderick had him dangling from the hooks that had been plunged into his ankles—upside down.
There were many that pitied him. But many more, especially the new slaves—after hearing his offense from the others—felt proud of him.
"It's high ti soone stuck it to the so-called Vaelcrest masters... I like that kid."
"Yeah... I only wish I had as much balls as he does, to pull such a stunt."
"Don't make laugh... look at how he is suffering. They say he has been that way for two days now. If it was you, you would have died by now."
The slaves whispered amongst themselves. But just like so praised him, there were others that looked down on him.
"Yes... he deserves it. Master Roderick is even nice. If it was , I would have already put the little trash out of his misery."
"I agree... who does he think he is? How dare he raise his hand against a noble of the empire? Does he not know that they are heaven's chosen? All he has to do is repent with his blood... yes, he has to repent with his blood."
No doubt, the training that the Vaelcrest provided had already begun working on the minds of the slaves.
It had only been a few weeks, but there were already those that practically worshipped the floor that the Vaelcrest stepped on.
They saw themselves as nothing but tools for their masters.
To these people, looking for the favour of a Vaelcrest was their new life goal.
As such, if not for Roderick’s orders for all to stay put, they would have run up to Oliver and torn him limb from limb.
But Oliver did not care about the continuous whispers. How could he?
His mind was on sothing else. It was on sothing that he could not believe was happening.
In his forr life, this part of the training did not happen until during the last week of training.
But they were barely a few weeks into the program and the Dungeon tutorial classes were already taking place.
If the classes were taking place, then it ant one thing—Dungeon exploration was close.
From what he rembered, the first exploration for dungeons was compulsory for all the slaves.
—This exploration would take anywhere from three days to a week.
After which, the slaves were allowed to choose whether they would want to continue exploring the dungeons or explore other options of serving the Somara Empire.
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Roderick stepped up to the podium in the center. There were two slaves beside him. But these were not the usual slaves—no brown sackcloth.
One of them was fully in armor and even had a spear in hand, and the other had full light orange robes and a staff.
Roderick cast a sideways glance at Oliver, who remained hanging not so far away.
For so reason, his ear—the one Oliver took—tingled a bit.
He hated it. And truly, he wanted to tear Oliver to shreds—a re slave—that dared raise a hand to him.
But then he had to maintain authority and composure in front of the slaves.
And so he began.
“Your lives are all useless. Your dreams, even more so.”
His voice rang clear through the warehouse.
“You are born of mud and shit and pitiful desperation. Do you know what gives aning to your breath? Do you know what redeems the insult of your birth?”
He stepped down from the podium slowly, walking among the gathered slaves, looking from face to face.
“Service. Loyalty. To the Somara Empire.”
His tone was cold. Righteous.
“Your existence has no purpose beyond it. The only value you possess is how well you serve the hand that feeds you. The only honor you will ever know... is obedience.”
He pointed toward the armored slave.
“This one beca a Wrapped because he understood that.”
Then his finger moved to the robed man.
“And this one, too. Although not a Wrapped, he chose purpose. They chose to abandon their filth-stained past and beco sothing useful.”
He walked calmly to the man in robes, standing just beside him.
“And you... all of you... could follow that sa path. And the glory you shall enjoy...”
Roderick slowly raised his hand and placed it atop the robed slave’s head.
Imdiately, a hush fell over the warehouse.
From the man’s body, light shimred.
Aether began to swirl—flowing visibly, drawn like a current from the slave’s fra into Roderick’s palm.
Gasps broke out among the crowd.
Even the air seed to hum.
And then—
The robed man staggered a little.
Roderick willed it, so that the slaves could hear the alerts.
Ding!
[Slave Sigil Active: Master Roderick has taken points]
[—2 Strength
—5 agility]
Oliver saw this and frowned. This was it. This was the use of the slave sigil behind their necks.
It was said that the Somara empire had conquered the dungeons, and that their economy bood because of it.
This was the reason for that boom. Slave masters did not need to explore the dungeons. As long as they had compatible slaves to serve their bloodlines and trained from ti to ti, they could infinitely steal the points and achievents of those that explored the dungeons.
This was it. This was what made the Somara empire the force it was.
You don't know how to fight with the sword?
What a joke. There is no need to take years practicing it. Just steal the sword skill from a dungeon slave.
What about blacksmithing? Very easy. Just find a slave with the skill, and take it.
In fact, in the empire, it was even possible for so jobs to be paid with Dungeon achievents, instead of money.
Of course, it was not entirely so simple. All born citizens of the somara empire had the Master Sigil that allowed the function of 'harvesting' slaves.
This was why slave trade was the most booming business in the empire.
But gaining from the dungeon itself was not so easy for most people—especially slaves.
Those of Common bloodline had it worse. Those of noble bloodline had it easier to absorb the gifts of the dungeons, and those that were of royal blood had it best.
For this reason, royal blooded slaves were very valuable. And were left for the elite of society.
Of course, even for this, they were various conditions, including the Bloodline Absorption capability of the 'Master' involved, but that was the foundational gist of it.
Oliver sighed at this. He did not even need to listen more. He already knew all this—especially about the Armoured slave that stood not far away.
That one was a 'Wrapped.'
Wrapped were dungeon slaves that had shown exceptional capabilities, as a result of their bloodline, luck, and of course, effort. But the reason they were called Wrapped was because unlike the others, no one was allowed to feed off their dungeon achievents until a set day after their imnse growth.
This was why they were called Wrapped—like a Wrapped gift, waiting for a set ti to be unwrapped.
aning that they were allowed the freedom to grow as much as possible—just like green fruits on the way to red–ripe.
Even amongst slaves they were many that admired Wrapped slaves. However, according to what Oliver rembered of them, they always had very unfortunate endings.
The reason for this was because after a slave was unwrapped, they were drained of practically everything they could offer—so of them, even their youth.
There was no happy ending for them.
And yet, to be a Wrapped was Oliver’s goal.
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