Verd remained silent, merely shifting to get more comfortable, lacing his fingers behind his head and fixing his gaze on the ceiling as if Kael didn't exist in the room at all.
Kael showed neither anger nor any attempt to reprimand the youth. Instead, having closed the door behind him, he slid inside soundlessly. His steps were almost inaudible, his long robe dragged along the ground, and a small bag swayed rhythmically with his movements.
The old man sat down beside him and held out the bag, but Verd didn't react. As usual, having been ignored, Kael placed the bag on the makeshift storage shelf where three other identical ones lay.
By his present nature, Kael was a good man, all because he was tired of countless battles and killings. Having lost everything, having slain thousands, he had discovered a simple truth. No matter how much you fight, no matter how much stronger you become, in the end, another person will come, thirsting to destroy you. This simple circle of madness.
And another reason for his unshakable calm was his understanding of the turbulent teenage years — a time when a chasm of misunderstanding lies between generations.
"Maybe you'll tell me why you did it after all?"
Kael sat motionless, his hands folded on his knees, and peered into the youth's face with patient sadness.
Understanding that the old man still wouldn't leave him alone, Verd reluctantly opened his mouth:
"You know the answer. Almost every time new people appear here, the same thing happens. And you always ask the same thing."
"And you really don't feel anything after all this?" — his voice sounded somewhat sad and disappointed.
Verd let out a heavy sigh and, without changing his posture, pulled a hardened piece of bread from the bag and, lying down, began to chew it.
The answer to this question had been formulated long ago and mercilessly. Every time he killed a person, he felt nothing. He did it without even thinking about anything, just as a cat doesn't think before going to catch a mouse, just as raindrops fall from the sky.
His own life, freedom — that was what stood above all else. And if it meant taking the lives of others — he would do it without flinching. Though somewhere deep inside, he felt a vague sensation, remotely resembling an ancient instinct telling him that one shouldn't take a person's life so simply.
"Yeah, basically, it's all as usual," he uttered carelessly.
Verd, finally having chewed and swallowed the dry bread, fixed his gaze on Kael. His gaze was sharp and cold, as if he were looking at his enemy. The old man, however, showed no reaction to this and continued to smile.
And then Verd asked an unexpected question:
"Listen... Where do all these new people come from?"
All these years, Kael had insisted that the outside world was destroyed, that hordes of monsters had broken free, exterminating humanity and its creations. At first, Verd had believed him unconditionally and asked no questions, but after new people started appearing, he became convinced that something was being kept from him.
"You know the answer," Kael repeated Verd's phrase with a smirk. "I found them near the mountain."
Verd felt displeasure because, to some extent, he was being mocked right now, but he restrained his emotions.
"That's not what I mean. You've said many times that the world was destroyed, but I just can't understand the connection. How can new people appear if they simply have nowhere to live?"
Verd squinted, trying to catch Kael in a lie.
"Well, it just happens," Kael shrugged. "Who knew that anyone could be lucky enough to survive in such a world."
Hearing nothing new, nothing that could shed light on the truth, the guy sighed wearily.
'Again, exactly the same answer. Why is he so stubbornly trying to hide information about the outside world?'
Unexpectedly, Kael, almost in passing, touched Verd's forehead with the tip of his finger.
Taking another small bite of bread, Verd simply stared intently at Kael for several seconds until the old man felt uncomfortable and abruptly stood up.
'What was that?'
"Alright. Get some proper rest because tomorrow you'll have to gather materials in a new path."
Hearing this, Verd was surprised and raised an eyebrow.
"A new path? I thought we didn't start new ones until we finished the previous one."
Verd, seeing more free space on the bed, sprawled out on it again. And Kael considered these actions rather... strange... First lying on the bed, then sitting up, and then lying back down. Truly strange.
"Well, alright. I'll drop by tomorrow to check on your progress."
Without answering the question, the old man hurried to leave.
After Kael's departure, there was nothing left to do. So Verd simply went to sleep.
***
The next day, as Kael had promised, Verd and about a dozen other people were sent into a new passage, completely unfamiliar to Verd. They walked like guests invited into the unknown, each step echoing hollowly in the impenetrable darkness.
Even taking a step was a difficulty, as there was no illumination of any kind. The only source of light was the weak, barely smoldering flame of a torch in the hands of a warrior.
He immediately caught Verd's attention because he was vastly different from the ordinary people who protected them. Steel armor sat firmly on his body, beneath which was something resembling a mantle. His face was not visible due to the wide hood on his head.
'Could there really be such a person here? I'm seeing him for the first time.'
Almost immediately, Verd was sure this man definitely possessed some kind of magic, which even the weakest local warriors wielded.
But he knew nothing about the ranks that determined strength, nor about the abilities they possessed. Only occasionally had he seen someone illuminate a dark place with a weak flicker of light emanating from their hand.
Based on this scant knowledge, his understanding of the possibilities had formed in his head. If fire magic existed, then there must be water magic and other basic elements as well.
Having walked another few hundred meters, they reached strange gates. Their appearance inspired horror. Instead of ordinary wooden beams, enormous, meter-long bones were used here.
It immediately seemed strange to Verd. Such a structure, in theory, shouldn't be able to support the weight without something collapsing. However, in reality, things were different.
The thing was, these weren't quite bones in Verd's usual understanding. Although he suspected something like this, he still lacked sufficient knowledge.
The warrior abruptly turned towards the dragging crowd, cleared his throat, and said:
"A narrower section of the path is about to begin. So don't rush and walk one after another."
His voice was authoritative and loud, yet quiet enough not to provoke a collapse.
After his words, people began to line up almost back-to-back so as not to fall behind. Verd was luckier than some and ended up standing almost at the very front.
'I think I got very lucky.'
He glanced back and saw that those standing far behind had no light source at all. They could only rely on their weak human adaptation to darkness and hold onto the person in front of them by the hand.
'Too lucky.'
Continuing at a slower pace, they descended a stone slope that spiraled in a ring. For greater safety, some people walked along the wall. So, moments later, Verd did the same as they did. The path was steep, and from time to time, unexpected stones appeared underfoot, which could easily twist an ankle. Fortunately, being at the front, this didn't threaten Verd because the light, though weak, illuminated the path, and he could see what was under his feet.
Finally, they managed to emerge into a more illuminated place. However, the light did not come from the usual torches, lamps, or even fire magic. The source of light was small deposits of purple ore, deeply embedded within the stone. Despite the ore being encased in rock, the light was so strong it broke through to the outside.
'What is this?'
Verd hesitated whether to go forward.
'These things don't even have a hint of any metal. Can it really glow?'
Taking a step back, he bumped into the chest of the man standing behind him. The man's face was transfixed by the strange ore, and he didn't even pay attention to this collision. Looking at the other workers, Verd saw that everyone except him was mesmerized by this ore.
The warrior seemed to notice this but showed no particular reaction. He stepped forward a bit, positioning himself before the passage to the ore.
"Enough of this nonsense!"
After his shout, almost everyone snapped back to consciousness and became afraid they would be punished.
This didn't happen often, of course, but when a worker once tried to disobey a warrior or failed to follow an order, he was publicly punished in front of everyone.
Such treatment resembled the treatment of slaves. This irritated Verd immensely, not because he felt sorry for the people, but because from the very moment he opened his eyes, one of the few things he had possessed was taken from him. His freedom. But what angered him even more was his own weakness, the impossibility of reclaiming his freedom, of doing what he wanted. The desire to kill everyone who kept him here burned him from within.
"Start digging already!"
When everyone had more or less returned to normal, the work began.
These stones and the ore they were mining were ten times harder than iron or even diamond. On top of that, instead of strong and experienced miners, weak, emaciated slaves who had never been trained in such a craft were extracting it.
After five strikes, most people's hands began to shake, and holding the pickaxe became increasingly difficult. It took Verd nine strikes before the pickaxe clanged to the ground, and he himself sank to his knees, looking at his scraped palms.
'Damn it... even our pickaxes are dull. We can barely mine iron, let alone something like this...'
While the warrior wasn't looking, Verd, seizing the moment, hid behind a rock and took a short break, snacking on a piece of bread from his bag. He still had about ten pieces in his supplies, so today he could afford to treat himself a little.
Some people watched him intently, hungry and exhausted, looking at him with envy. Some already wanted to complain to their guard, but remembering the scene he had caused yesterday and the uncertainty that he would be punished, they abandoned this idea and, after resting a few seconds, continued their work.
Hearing a few detached footsteps, Verd stood up and resumed hammering at the stone. The warrior walked past him, their eyes meeting.
It lasted only a fraction of a second before he moved on, inspecting other faces.
A few more times, Verd repeated a similar situation. After several strikes, he would sit down and rest, endure the hateful glances in his direction, and then continue working. And even so, after three such repetitions, he became the first one to manage to extract anything.
A large purple shard fell out of a stone split in two. As soon as Verd bent down and picked it up, the warrior stood before him with an open bag, looking at the youth.
'What, I can't even get a good look at it?'
Just as he was about to place the shard in the bag, the wall beside them began to crack, and everyone shifted their attention to it.