Chapter 5: Freedom Under The Moonlight
"W-what!?" Ciro stammered, his voice cracking under the weight of disbelief. His wide eyes flicked between the shattered sword in Ri-hyun's hand and the eerie calm that surrounded the man.
"That energy just now... It felt more overwhelming than Kaiser's. Maybe—just maybe—it's possible with this man," he whispered, a flicker of defiance igniting in his heart for the first time in years.
The brief moment of awe was fleeting. Celebration turned to routine, and reality crashed down like a cage of steel. The cartel wasted no time in assimilating the newcomers, Baek Ri-hyun included, into the daily grind of forced labor. No exceptions. No mercy.
They marched Ri-hyun to the sprawling, pesticide-drenched farms hidden deep in the valley's cradle—vast plantations blooming with the cartel's prized crop: the Nyx flower. Its sickly sweet scent filled the air, a perfume of madness that clung to the lungs like tar.
"So this is the plant," Ri-hyun murmured, crouching to examine the unnatural bloom. The scent was intoxicating—cloying and almost sentient in its malevolence. "Just breathing this in for long enough would drive someone insane."
A brutal kick interrupted his thoughts, sending him sprawling into the dirt. A nearby guard, sneering behind a cigarette-stained mustache, cracked his whip as a warning. "No talking. Work."
Ri-hyun grunted, eyes narrowed, but rose without complaint. He played the part of the obedient laborer well. Behind that stoic mask, however, his mind was in motion. Every step was calculation. Every face—a name, a weakness. His gaze swept the farm, committing it all to memory. Positions. Schedules. Shifts. His instincts, honed over centuries of war, were already laying the groundwork for revolution.
The cold mountain air bit through their tattered clothes, gnawing at exposed skin. "Even the temperature here is used as a weapon," Ri-hyun noted. He reached out with his inner energy, discreetly channeling warmth into the bodies of those closest to him. The villagers flinched at first, then relaxed, a ghost of relief washing over their hollow expressions. It was subtle, almost imperceptible. But it was hope—and that was a dangerous thing.
They worked without rest. No break. No food. By mid-afternoon, the moans of the exhausted echoed across the field.
Cries broke the grim rhythm. Ri-hyun turned to see a commotion near the hunting party.
"What's happening?" he asked, stepping beside Ciro.