My God-Tier Beast Begged Me Not to Contract It

Life of A slave

High above Azra, the moon cast a cold silver glow over the royal palace, leaving dark shadows lurking between its pillars and corridors as Scott moved silently through the palace grounds, his breathing controlled, his footsteps light. He knew every corridor, every staircase, every blind spot. Years spent serving within these walls had taught him the palace better than most of the guards assigned to protect it.

He paused behind a pillar.

Two armored guards marched past, their boots echoing through the quiet night.

One...

Two...

Three...

Scott counted in his head.

The moment they turned to another corner, he moved in perfect sync.

Like a stray cat sneaking through a marketplace, he flowed from shadow to shadow, unseen and unheard.

A few minutes later, he reached his destination.

The palace storage room.

Relief flashed across his face.

He quickly gathered several loaves of bread and stuffed them into his tunic. His hands then moved toward a wooden cabinet near the wall.

Inside were several vials of Fever-Cure.

His eyes lit up and the thought of someone very important rested in his heart.

Mother...

He carefully slipped the medicine into his clothes and secured everything tightly.

That was enough.

Now he just needed to leave.

Scott turned toward the door.

Then a voice rang out.

"Lux."

The single magic word echoed through the room.

Click.

Click.

Click.

The storage room burst into light.

Every enchanted lantern hanging from the walls flared to life at once, driving away every trace of darkness.

Scott froze.

His heart nearly stopped.

It wasn't being caught that terrified him.

It was the owner of that voice.

A cold jolt shot down his spine.

His legs instantly gave out.

He collapsed onto the floor, trembling.

Sweat poured down his forehead as he slowly lifted his head.

Two figures stood before him.

One boy.

One girl.

Both looked at him as if he were something rotten.

Prince Franky of Azra.

And Sarah.

A triumphant smile spread across Sarah's face.

"Told you he was going to steal something tonight."

Franky sneered.

His eyes were filled with disgust.

"You filthy little rat."

Before Scott could speak, Franky charged forward.

Bang!

His boot slammed into Scott's stomach.

Scott cried out and folded over.

Franky kicked him again.

And again.

Each strike carried years of contempt.

"You worthless slave!"

Kick.

"How dare you steal from us!"

Kick.

"We feed you, clothe you, and let your kind breathe the same air as nobles!"

Kick.

"And this is how you repay us?"

Scott curled up, trying to shield himself.

Franky wasn't finished.

"Dirty trash. You're exactly what slaves are meant to be."

Kick.

"Nothing but thieves."

Kick.

"Parasites."

Kick.

"Animals pretending to be people."

Finally, Franky stepped back and pointed at him.

"Guards!"

The door burst open.

Night guards flooded into the storage room, surrounding Scott from every side.

Panic filled his face.

"My prince!" Scott cried, crawling forward. "Please! I beg you!"

He desperately pulled the medicine from inside his tunic.

"The bread and medicine are for my mother!"

His voice cracked.

"You know she was cast out from the palace because of her illness. She's getting worse every day. If I don't bring this medicine tonight..." His body shook violently. "She may not live until morning."

Tears welled in his eyes.

"I beg you, my prince. Please."

Franky looked completely unmoved.

Scott's gaze shifted toward Sarah.

Hope flickered in his eyes.

He crawled toward her and grabbed the edge of her long gown.

"Sarah... please help me."

His voice was barely above a whisper.

"Please I beg of you, help me."

He lowered his head.

"I'll accept any punishment. Beat me, lock me up, do whatever you want. Just let my mother have the medicine and bread."

Sarah stared down at him.

The look on her face was one of pure disgust.

She yanked her gown away as though something filthy had touched her.

"Your dirty mother should die for all I care."

Scott froze.

Sarah folded her arms.

"Instead of worrying about what will happen to you, you're worried about that sick woman?"

She laughed softly.

"What a pathetic family."

Scott's face turned pale.

The last bit of hope in his eyes shattered.

Prince Franky waved a hand dismissively.

"Take him away."

The guards immediately grabbed Scott by the arms.

"No! Please!"

He struggled desperately but it was useless.

"My mother!"

"Please!"

"She needs the medicine!"

His cries echoed through the storage room as the guards dragged him away.

Neither Franky nor Sarah spared him a second glance.

To them, he was nothing more than a troublesome slave being returned to his cage.

The heavy prison doors awaited him.

That serves him right.

Sarah watched as the guards dragged Scott away, a sly smile creeping onto her face.

The fool had actually trusted her, she thought.

Scott believed they were friends.

Earlier that day, he had secretly told her about his plan to sneak into the storage room and steal medicine for his mother. He had even asked her to keep Prince Franky distracted long enough for him to escape.

What a joke.

As if she would ever help a slave.

Scott never understood his place.

Prince Franky despised him, and for good reason in Sarah's eyes. The prince barely allowed him a moment's rest. If Scott wasn't cleaning, carrying things, or running errands, Franky found new ways to make his life miserable.

The prince treated him like dirt beneath his shoes.

Because that was exactly what he thinks slaves were meant for.

Dirt.

Sarah turned and followed Franky out of the storage room, her smile never fading.

---

The palace prison was cold, damp, and smelled of mold and rust.

Water dripped from cracks in the stone ceiling.

A heavy iron gate slammed shut behind Scott.

Clang!

The guards shoved him forward.

His chained hands struck the floor.

Pain shot through his wrists, but he barely noticed.

Mama...

His voice was weak.

"I need to save her."

The image of his sick mother filled his mind.

She was alone.

Nobody was there to take care of her.

Nobody to bring her food.

Nobody to give her medicine.

What if her fever got worse?

What if she didn't survive the night?

His chest tightened painfully.

Then another face appeared in his thoughts.

Sarah.

Scott clenched his fists.

How could she do this?

He had trusted her.

Believed her.

Thought she was his friend.

A rough voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts.

"Well, well. Look who we have here."

Scott slowly lifted his head.

A prisoner sitting against the wall was staring at him.

The man's wrists and ankles were bound in heavy chains.

The same chains now hung from Scott's own limbs.

A grin spread across the prisoner's face.

"What brings the prince's personal slave to death row cell?"

Several prisoners nearby looked over.

One of them laughed.

"He probably stole something from the palace."

"Wouldn't surprise me."

"Looks desperate enough."

Scott lowered his head.

His thin frame, pale skin, and tangled hair made him look more like a starving stray than a criminal.

The first prisoner shook his head.

"Boy, are you stupid or what?"

Scott remained silent.

The prisoner continued.

"Out of all the times to steal, you picked now?"

He clicked his tongue.

"The Summoning Ceremony is only two days away."

Several prisoners immediately nodded.

One scratched his beard.

"Why are you acting like that's a big deal?"

The first prisoner snorted.

"You serious?"

"What? It's not like some God-tier beast is suddenly going to appear."

A few inmates chuckled.

Another prisoner joined the conversation.

"The ceremony hasn't produced anything of such in over a hundred years."

"Exactly."

"We'll probably end up as bait for beast hunts before we ever see some God tier creature."

That earned several bitter laughs.

The prisoners continued arguing among themselves, tossing theories back and forth to pass the time.

Scott barely heard any of it.

His thoughts were somewhere else.

Far beyond the prison walls.

Far beyond the chains around his wrists.

He thought only of his mother.

Silently, he bowed his head and prayed.

Prayed that someone would find her.

Prayed that someone would bring her food.

Prayed that her sickness would not worsen before morning.

Because right now, there was nothing else he could do.