After finishing his work, Grey wandered aimlessly through the enclosure the overseers had nicknamed the "rest area."
He wasn't in the mood to watch the combat slaves train. He had already learned everything he needed for the escape. All that remained was to put the plan into motion.
Thankfully, most of the work was already done.
The tunnel leading straight to the kitchen was ready. All that was left was to prepare the sleeping draft, slip it unnoticed into the vat of wine, and finally escape the slave camp.
What could be easier?
The verbena had already been prepared. Grey made sure every stem belonged to the Somnis subspecies. All that remained was to cut, grind, and chew them into a paste, mix it with water, and leave it to steep overnight in a dark place.
The process was simple and straightforward. There shouldn't be any problems.
So why did Grey feel so awful?
Even his usual conversations with Sheryl brought him no comfort. The girl was worried about her best friend and kept asking if she would be alright.
"How would I know?" Grey felt like clutching his head.
He wasn't a doctor. He did know a few things about medicine from Grandma Cornelia's lessons, but he didn't consider himself all-knowing. He truly hoped Lily would come around after a dose of healing potions and some proper rest, but she hadn't woken up even by evening.
What was he supposed to tell her?
In a low mood, Grey left Sheryl, who had fallen asleep on the crates, and decided to stretch his legs.
He hadn't slept a minute either, and then had been forced to work all day, leaving him utterly drained. But no matter how hard he tried, he simply couldn't fall asleep as carelessly as Sheryl. Fatigue weighed on his shoulders, while thoughts of the coming escape and Lily's condition refused to let him rest.
It was in such a situation that Grey found himself facing five older boys.
He knew the names of two of them: Garren, a muscular, broad-shouldered guy with a square face, the leader of the local gang, and Reus, his deputy, a short brown-haired boy with curly hair who was always hanging around Lily. The names of the other three were unknown to him.
This was the very group that had beaten him on his first day. Or rather, not him, but that old monster who had occupied his body back then. No wonder meeting them now brought Grey little joy.
"What do these degenerates want from me? Don't tell me they've decided to test their strength again. I'm not as simple as that old monster. I wonder why he got beaten by a bunch of kids? Maybe he still wasn't used to my body at the time? Wait..."
"Should I thank these bastards for awakening my consciousness? Not a chance! That Garren really tried to take my bracelet! And Reus is always sniffing around Lily's skirt. Why do my fists suddenly itch?" Grey thought, staring silently at the group of teenagers, waiting for them to spit out what they wanted.
Strangely enough, their appearance distracted him from his dark thoughts.
Finally, Reus, who seemed to be the brains of the group, addressed him:
"Um, Alex... or rather, Grey, I'm not sure what to call you," he began, trying to sound as polite as possible. "Do you know what happened to Sheryl and Lily? For the past month they haven't been themselves, and Lily didn't show up at all today. What's wrong with her?"
Grey felt his head about to split from anger:
'Lily. Lily again! Why is everyone so concerned about her condition?! She's a grown girl and should take care of herself. Calm down, Grey, calm down,' he thought to himself, but said something entirely different out loud:
"My name is Alex Greyrat. Grey is a nickname that stuck for some reason, if you're really that curious. As for your question, Lily isn't feeling well. She has a fever, so Mister Gracchus allowed her to rest. Lately, we've been given too much work. I've been feeling a bit dizzy myself. If that's all you wanted to know, I'll be going."
Not a single muscle on Grey's face twitched as he delivered this nonsense.
Having finished with the routine explanation, he had already turned to leave when Garren himself called out to him:
"Wait."
"Do you need something else? Maybe you want some berries?" Grey asked with sarcasm.
"No, not that," Garren waved his hands in protest. "Reus, tell him what we agreed on."
"Um, Alex, we'd like to apologize," Reus began, and Grey raised an eyebrow in surprise at his words, but Reus didn't let him brush it off. "We understand that we were wrong to try and cause you trouble. Moreover, we're sincerely grateful that you didn't report us to the overseers, despite Quintilian's punishment."
At last, Grey found a chance to cut him off:
"There's no need for apologies, you really opened my eyes back then. And as for reporting you to the overseers… I'm sure Quintilian understood everything without my explanation. If he had wanted to punish you, he would have done so. But since you're candidates for soldiers, he held back."
"You're wrong, Alex," Reus objected. "If you had actually accused us, Mister Quintilian would have had a reason to punish us. He has… um… a certain fondness for punishment. But since you kept quiet, they believed we got injured during training. For that, we owe you."
Garren and the other boys nodded in agreement.
"And since when did you all become so polite?" Grey asked, still doubtful of their motives and sincerity.
Reus hesitated. "Well… um, Lily told me everything you went through because of us. And we… we sincerely ask for your forgiveness. We didn't think our harmless… um, prank on a newcomer would lead to such consequences. Besides, we genuinely respect your strength and want to ask you for advice on training."
Grey studied their faces closely, searching for the slightest sign of deceit, but found none.
'That Lily. She really… really gets on my nerves,' he thought. 'On the other hand, this might be for the best. I can't rely entirely on the success of the escape plan. The blind old man, Uncle Jack, and even that old warlock always taught me to have a backup plan. If I really end up facing the cultists of the Merciful Flame, the help of these five could come in handy.'
"Alright… you've convinced me," he replied under his breath, but by the end of the sentence his voice had grown more authoritative, his chest puffing out. "I forgive you and I'm even willing to help with your training, but…"
He made a deliberate pause to emphasize the weight of his next words.
"In exchange for my help, you must promise that when I give the order, you will obey me without question in one single matter. Even if it costs you your lives. That includes you, Garren… Do you agree?"
The boys tensed visibly and fell into deep thought, realizing the seriousness of the request.
Even slow-witted Garren understood that promises like that weren't something to throw around lightly.
Grey was glad to see their hesitation. If they had agreed without a second thought to such an unreasonable demand, he would have truly doubted their sincerity. On the other hand, their reaction proved they took promises seriously.
Of course, there were no guarantees, but it was better than nothing.
"If my guidance turns out to be useless to you, you're free to refuse my request," Grey added, so as not to sound too arrogant. "Moreover, I'm not going to make you risk your lives for nothing. But if my own life is in danger, I expect your support."
The boys thought it over, even holding a brief, improvised discussion before making a decision together, but in the end, they agreed. Their attitude genuinely pleased Grey, and he decided to teach them the fundamentals the villagers had instilled in him with sincerity.
Could it really be that the knowledge of so many Sky-dwellers that Grey had absorbed would be useless to a bunch of kids?
He didn't believe in such nonsense.
Maybe he really should gather an elite rapid-response team?
Grey understood he wouldn't be able to survive or even find his loved ones on his own. He knew his own condition better than anyone. He was a cripple without strength. Could a cripple in a world ruled by the stronger fist afford arrogance? Of course not.
He needed the help of others, and he already had an idea of how to obtain it.
Meanwhile, Garren decided to introduce himself again:
"My name is Garren. I'm the strongest, so I'm the leader. I use two axes and usually fight on the front line, while the others support me. This is Reus, he's the most cunning and stealthy, but he's got solid skills. This is Kai, he's an excellent marksman. This is Alen, a sword fanatic. And that tall one is Leo, he uses a spear."
Their team turned out to be surprisingly well-balanced.
It seemed Harmon intended to raise them as a single unit and sell them as a group.
Of course, they were far from the standard lineup of a successful adventuring party: a tank, a versatile fighter, a support mage, a marksman, and a healer.
But it was something he could work with.
Grey spent half an hour studying their strengths and weaknesses before beginning their training. It didn't take him long to come up with an optimal combat strategy for them, one they were already somewhat familiar with from the overseers' drills.
In his view, Kai should keep an eye on the entire battlefield and eliminate key targets in advance. Reus should act as a scout and assassin. Garren was, obviously, the team's tank, meant to draw all aggression to himself.
Leo's position should be slightly behind Garren, his task to control the flow of battle while staying relatively safe. And finally, Alen was to flank from Garren's side, support his advance, and finish off weakened enemies.
He only had to make minor adjustments to their battle tactics.
Fortunately, he was familiar with many formations from his training under Grandpa Robert, who, due to the nature of his profession, had often been forced to work in a team.
The next step in their training program was introducing them to a basic stance. The boys' fundamentals fell far short of Grey's standards, and they needed correction.
Unfortunately, he had barely managed to demonstrate a few movements before the rest period ended, and they had to return to their cells.
On his way back to his cell, Grey sank into deep thought.
He ran through possible scenarios in his mind, trying to determine which skills deserved the most attention in training the boys.
Survival in the wild? Stealth movement? Or perhaps the basics of tactical planning?
Grey understood that his time was limited, and every lesson had to be as effective as possible. If he did manage to carry out his escape plan, the boys would have to get out on their own.
Grey wasn't so callous as to remain indifferent to the possibility of his new companions dying pointlessly and prematurely. Moreover, wouldn't it be a waste if all his efforts came to nothing?
He decided to prepare them as well as he could, so they would be able to survive on their own when faced with danger. Ideas and plans swirled in his head as he searched for the perfect balance between essential skills and the time he had left.