Jael's eyes snapped toward the cave entrance.
The faint crunch of footsteps against snow echoed softly, deliberate and unhurried. Two shadows stretched along the cave wall before their owners fully entered, their silhouettes distorted by the pale moonlight bleeding through the opening.
"How much do you think that child will fetch us?" one of them asked casually, as though discussing livestock.
Jael's heart skipped.
"Hm." The second voice was deeper, calmer. "Following the exchange rate of the colosseum… one war slave goes for about a hundred darys. An awakened one?" He chuckled. "Five hundred. Minimum."
Five hundred.
Jael's fingers curled into his palm as a cold dread settled in his chest.
They're talking about me.
His breathing slowed—not out of calm, but survival instinct. He pressed himself further behind the rock, keeping his presence shallow, his mind racing.
A war slave.
He knew what that meant.
The worst kind of slave. Thrown into blood-soaked arenas, forced to fight beasts or other captives for the amusement of nobles. Survival meant pain. Death meant entertainment.
His jaw clenched.
No… not like this.
The two men stepped fully into the cave now. They wore layered leather armor darkened by age and bloodstains. Their faces were rough, scarred—men who had lived off violence long before tonight.
Jael lowered his gaze and scanned the cave floor.
A stone.
Small enough to throw. Heavy enough to make noise.
If I distract them… just for a second…
His plan formed quickly.
If he threw the stone deeper into the cave, their attention would split. Confusion. One heartbeat. That was all he needed.
Slowly, carefully, Jael lifted the stone.
His arm trembled—not from weakness, but from fear.
Then he threw it.
Clack—!
The stone struck the far wall and bounced sharply, the sound echoing loudly through the hollow cave.
Both men froze.
Silence stretched.
Jael held his breath.
"Heh."
One of them laughed quietly.
"Well I'll be damned," the first man said. "The brat can either see us… or sense us."
The other clicked his tongue. "That makes him even more valuable."
Jael's blood ran cold.
"Lysine," the first said, smiling darkly. "Let's go inside."
They moved.
Fast.
Too fast.
Jael didn't wait to see more.
He bolted.
Snow crunched under his boots as he sprinted toward the cave entrance, adrenaline flooding his veins. His lungs burned, his heart thundered in his ears.
Just a few more steps—
Thud.
Pain exploded across his forehead as his body slammed into something invisible. The impact sent him sprawling backward, stars bursting across his vision.
"What…?" Jael muttered, groaning as he rubbed his head.
There was no wall here.
His vision blurred, then sharpened.
The air in front of him rippled.
Like heat distortion.
Slowly, a figure emerged from nothingness—as though peeling itself out of the air.
A man.
Tall. Lean. His presence felt wrong, heavy in a way Jael couldn't explain. His eyes gleamed faintly under the hood of his cloak.
The man smiled.
"Jon was right," he said calmly. "You almost fooled us."
Jael scrambled backward, panic tightening his chest.
"W-what are you?" he demanded.
The man tilted his head. "Someone who knows tricks when he sees them."
Behind him, the two men approached leisurely, their footsteps slow, confident.
Jael's eyes darted desperately.
System—!
The screen flickered into existence.
[WARNING: TARGET POWER LEVEL TOO HIGH]
[DREAM WALK — FAILED]
His heart sank.
No.
The hooded man raised a hand.
The air around Jael suddenly felt heavy—like invisible chains pressing down on his body. His limbs stiffened, refusing to respond.
Jael gritted his teeth. "Let me go!"
The man chuckled softly. "Relax, boy. Struggling will only make it worse."
The deeper-voiced man stepped forward, crouching to meet Jael's gaze.
"You're unlucky," he said. "But also fortunate."
Jael spat weakly. "Fortunate?"
"Yes." The man smiled thinly. "You're awakened. That means you won't die immediately."
Jael's stomach twisted.
Cold iron cuffs snapped around his wrists, glowing faintly with runes etched into the metal. The moment they locked, a sharp pain shot through his arms.
He gasped.
"Binding cuffs," Lysine said. "Suppress mana flow."
Jael felt it instantly.
Something inside him went quiet.
The faint hum he hadn't even realized he could feel—gone.
Panic surged.
"Don't worry," the hooded man said as he turned away. "You'll fetch a good price."
Jael was dragged to his feet, his boots scraping helplessly against the snow.
As they pulled him from the cave, he looked back once.
At the darkness.
At the place he'd thought was shelter.
The forest stretched endlessly before him, silent and uncaring.
His reflection in the icy river flashed briefly in his mind—bloodstreaked face, hollow eyes.
Not again.
Inside his head, something stirred.
Not words.
Not a voice.
But a presence.
Watching.
Waiting.
And for the first time since awakening, Jael understood something clearly.
This world was not hunting him because he was weak.
It was hunting him because he was valuable.
And that realization terrified him more than death.