"Move it, slaves!" The knight's strong voice boomed powerfully, cutting through the march of slaves of various ages and genders walking with their hands bound in chains.
Among the group of slaves, a figure stumbled for a moment, pulling on the chain, causing his scraped skin to be cut and burn from the cold.
"You little shit! I'm going to kill you!" shouted a slave much more corpulent than the fragile-looking young man, whose eyes were wide with pure horror, confusion, and fear.
The man behind the young man let out an amused chuckle at that threat.
"Why bother? That kid will be dead before we cross the mountains. Before they even send us to die."
"You will die, he will die, and I will die too. We have no say. After all, we are slaves who committed crimes, being thrown to our deaths to kill monsters," the man sighed.
"Speak for yourself, I plan to survive this hell and reclaim my freedom!"
Soon the conversation was interrupted by the presence of a knight. He wore simple leather armor, armed with a short sword and a spear. The most striking thing was his appearance: he was attractive.
"What's going on here?"
The soldier's voice showed no signs of annoyance or anger; instead, it had a tone of slight concern.
No one spoke for a few seconds before the slave behind the young man spoke up.
"It's nothing, sir. We're all just tired and cold. Especially the young boy, this journey is hard for someone so young."
The soldier looked at the young man, who had a downcast expression. His body was thin, barely covered by simple, old, poor-quality clothes that did nothing to ward off the cold.
His black hair was full of dirt and grime from not having been washed in a long time.
The soldier, upon seeing the young man, removed a canteen from his belt and handed it to the slave.
"Endure a little longer, boy. We'll stop to camp for the night soon. Here, drink some water."
The young man extended his thin, cold fingers to grab the canteen and relieve his dry throat, but he felt an enormous pain that made him scream, falling and pulling on the chain to the annoyance of the larger, stronger slave.
Without even giving a glance at the slave, another soldier, older and angry, stopped his horse a few steps behind. The whip that opened a wound on the young man's back belonged to him. The soldier, possibly the superior, looked at the younger one with an annoyed frown on his face.
"What do you think you're doing?"
The younger soldier's face darkened a little.
"I was just giving this boy some water."
"He'll get water along with the rest once we make camp!"
"But..."
"Shut your mouth! These slaves aren't people. They are animals, understand? If you treat them like people they'll start imagining things."
The younger soldier looked at the slave, whose back was starting to bleed from the wound, and put his canteen back on his belt.
"I don't want to see you making friends with slaves again, rookie. Or next time it will be your back that tastes my whip!"
As if to drive the point home, the older soldier brandished the whip in the air and rode past them, radiating his anger. The young slave gritted his teeth against the pain he felt.
Forced to his feet, the young slave continued the death march along the icy paths.
---
Elpis was initially confused about where he was. Just moments ago he had been run over by a drunk driver, and before that, he had been on the happiest day of his life, because he had finally finished the work he had invested four full years in.
Work that was rising, gaining recognition and fame, to the point where he had deals with interested companies.
However, everything fell apart when he was run over and arrived at this place.
Somehow he knew the identity of this body: his name was Elpis, and he was a slave. His parents had sold him as a slave for a thousand Oriun coins, to be used as cannon fodder in the death zone.
Upon having that knowledge, Elpis stumbled over his own steps, causing his wrists to reopen the wounds from the iron shackles.
Pain shot through his body.
He was confused, cold, and felt a lot of pain in his body. He wanted to go home. He heard a conversation between two people in the background, but couldn't register it.
When he stood up, a young rookie knight offered him some water. As he was about to take it, he felt an enormous pain start from his back and spread throughout his entire body. A scream escaped his mouth as he fell, feeling more pain than before.
He could only feel pain, cold, and silent anger towards the older knight. Elpis got up and the caravan continued its journey. The wound still hurt, and he felt much colder due to his scant clothing.
He had transmigrated, possibly to another world, as a slave.
He was not a hero, not a noble, not an orphan: he was a slave destined to die. However, something seemed familiar to Elpis.
The snowy surroundings, the mountain in the distance, the knights' armor, and from the fragments of information he heard, they rang a bell somewhere, but he couldn't remember.
Elpis stopped his internal reflections and decided to focus on his current situation, which was very unfavorable.
The slave caravan was slowly advancing toward the mountain, with more and more slaves stumbling and falling to the ground periodically. A couple of times, those who could no longer walk were untied from the chains and unceremoniously tossed off the road, into the abyss located to the left of the mountain path.
Elpis watched this but couldn't say anything. The fear of receiving another lash settled in his mind, and the idea of getting another one displeased him completely.
The idea of becoming a slave in a different world as a transmigrator was simply too much to process quickly, and he was just beginning to accept his current situation.
The first step he would have to take would be to survive in order to understand his situation.
The hours passed until the sky began to darken. The sun hid behind the mountains, and Elpis noticed he could see clearly despite the darkness, a strange trait, but he didn't pay much attention to it.
Finally, the caravan stopped by order of the older soldier.
"Halt the caravan! Prepare to make camp!" he ordered.
After the order, the slaves fell to the ground exhausted. Elpis also let himself fall; his body was tired and aching all over. The small clearing where they were was protected from the wind by an outcrop of rocks, but it was still too cold to rest comfortably.
The soldiers busied themselves grouping the slaves in a tight circle, forcing them to share body heat, and lit a large bonfire in the center of the camp, though not before tending to their horses. The heavy cart carrying food, water, and other supplies, which held the main chain, was pushed forward, so that it acted as a wall lessening the icy wind.
When the large bonfire was lit, the stronger slaves tried to get closer to receive more heat from the fire; the weaker ones, like Elpis, were pushed away, forced to sit at the edge of the circle, huddled to generate enough heat to not die.
The slaves had been given a piece of hard, moldy bread along with some cold water. Elpis, who was hungry, began to eat it silently. After finishing the bread, he felt even hungrier than before.
"Damn it!" growled the slave next to Elpis, clearly irritated.
"By the gods, even in the dungeons they gave me better food than this shit!" he spat, annoyed.
"And most of us, innocent men, waiting to visit the gallows!"
Elpis didn't know if the slave was irritated or furious about his situation. Generally, those who went to dungeons were those who had committed crimes, from simple theft to murder. Elpis wondered where they were taking him through the mountain.
"What kind of crimes did you commit, boy, to end up a slave?" asked the slave from before, looking at Elpis.
Elpis opened his mouth before closing it, thinking carefully about his words.
"I was sold by my parents," he noted that his voice was somewhat hoarse from not speaking for a long time. Even uttering those words irritated his throat.
"Hmm. So you were sold for a few coins. I pity you, being sent to a death zone at such a young age," said the slave.
Elpis, who had been calm before, froze. His eyes widened like plates, his head turned so fast he swore he heard his bones crack.
"Did you say death zone?" he asked quickly.
The slave nodded, pleased with the boy's fearful reaction.
"You must have heard of it. It's one of the regions with the highest number of monsters. Where scum like us, slaves, are thrown to die in exchange for the promise of freedom," he explained, taking a bite of his bread.
Elpis felt his heart shrink and fear invade his body. He finally remembered. He knew why everything seemed so familiar, however, he needed to check.
Turning his head towards the slave, he asked his question.
"We are heading to the other side of the Black Mountains, right?" he asked uncomfortably.
The slave nodded, confirming his suspicions.
'Shit,' thought Elpis upon finally comprehending his terrible and very bad situation.
'I am in this place... but how? How did I end up in the world I myself created?' he thought, dumbfounded.
For the rest of the night, Elpis couldn't sleep. Now that he looked around he could see the features of the other slaves; he also observed the mountains and the knights' armor.
He was in the world of The Ascension of the Blood and Iron Hero. The web novel he had finished and which had become incredibly famous. Somehow he had arrived in this world, and his situation was terrible.
He was a slave sent to a death zone, a place where not even the strong survived for long.
Now he understood the words of the slave from hours earlier.
"Why would you bother to kill the boy? He will die, you will die, I will die and we all will," now those words carried even more weight.