The Sword Of The Fire Dragon

The scorching midday sun blazed overhead as the mighty sun perched high in the sky. A group of about 30 people was seen walking along a narrow path, heading into a forest. Leading the group were two individuals on horseback, with two others riding at the rear.

Among them were 15 men dressed like warriors, occasionally kicking at eight young men who walked unsteadily. Their feet were bound together, making their steps awkward and labored.

A cart followed behind, carrying a metal cage in which five young women sat huddled. Their faces were etched with overwhelming fear, and their eyes were swollen from crying incessantly.

“Our haul these past few days has been impressive, Restu. The boss will be pleased with what we’ve captured,” said a burly man wearing an earring on one ear.

“You’re right, Barda. Looks like we’ll be rewarded by the boss, hahaha!”

Restu smiled broadly, his gaze fixed on a handsome young man walking at the back of the eight captives with bound feet. “We’ll sell the others to the usual buyers, but that young man—we’ll take him to Nyi Ratih. She’ll surely be pleased and willing to pay a hefty price for him.”

“That’s a good idea, Restu. For him, we’ll tell the boss the price is the same as the others, and we’ll keep the extra for ourselves,” Barda replied, his sly grin widening at the thought of the profit they would make.

“You’re always the smartest when it comes to making money, Barda,” Restu said with a broad smile.

The young man they were referring to was indeed striking. He had a strong physique, shoulder-length jet-black hair, and piercing eyes like those of an eagle stalking its prey.

Though he appeared stoic in the face of his current predicament, exhaustion was evident in his expression. The relentless journey left his clothes drenched in sweat that refused to dry.

“Stop daydreaming, Arya! Keep your eyes forward!” A sharp command rang out, followed by the crack of a wooden branch striking the young man’s back.

The blow made Arya wince in pain, but not a single cry escaped his lips. Instead, he glared sharply at the man who had struck him.

“You dare to defy me?!”

Thud!

Another harsh voice accompanied a brutal punch to his solar plexus, forcing Arya to double over. For a moment, his breath was knocked out of him, and he spat fresh blood from his mouth.

The cruelty didn’t stop there. The man rained more blows on Arya, one of them hitting his forehead with such force that it sent him sprawling to the ground.

The impact left Arya dazed, his vision spinning wildly like the wheels of a carriage. He could no longer discern the faces around him; everything appeared as shapeless shadows.

The group halted at the edge of the forest when Arya collapsed.

“What are you doing, Darsa? Stop it!” Restu barked from atop his horse, halting Darsa, who was about to kick Arya again.

Sharing Restu’s fury, Barda leaped down from his horse, joining Restu as they approached Darsa with anger etched on their faces.

Restu and Barda couldn’t risk their valuable “asset” being damaged. If the young man sustained injuries, his value would drop significantly, thwarting their plans. After all, they knew Nyi Ratih only purchased healthy, strong men to satisfy her desires. Darsa’s actions jeopardized their deal.

Darsa looked bewildered by Restu’s rebuke, especially as both men dismounted and strode toward him with fiery expressions.

Meanwhile, Arya, lying on the ground, felt a flicker of relief that someone had intervened. If not, he might have lost consciousness entirely. Hunger and fatigue had already weakened him, and the blows to his solar plexus and forehead had taken a severe toll.

“Why did you beat him, Darsa?! Do you want his price to drop?!” Barda growled. Darsa had nearly ruined the plan he and Restu had devised.

Darsa was puzzled by their reaction. Usually, they never protested or reprimanded him for punishing captives. But this time, their behavior was entirely out of character.

“Why are you two defending him? He’s just a slave we’re going to sell!” Darsa argued.

“If you defy me again, I’ll make sure you’re the one we sell!” Restu snarled.

“You’ve always had a habit of beating the captives, Darsa. Don’t you realize their value decreases if they’re injured?” Barda added.

Darsa fell silent, unwilling to argue further. Not only was his position within the group below Restu and Barda, but his martial skills were also inferior to theirs.

“We’ll rest here before continuing through the forest,” said another man who had just joined them. His gaze shifted to Arya, still lying on the ground.

“Let him rest and recover his strength! And you, Darsa, as punishment for what you did, you’re responsible for taking care of him!” the man added.

Barda and Restu nodded in agreement. The group of more than 30 people then decided to rest at the forest’s edge.

Grumbling in frustration, Darsa begrudgingly complied. He unchained Arya’s feet and helped him toward a large, shady tree.

Feigning weakness, Arya staggered as Darsa supported him. In his mind, the removal of his chains was a golden opportunity to escape. All he needed was for Darsa to let his guard down while he regained his strength and clarity.

“You’re such a nuisance!” Darsa muttered angrily.

“I’m sorry, sir. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did earlier,” Arya replied softly. “I was just thirsty and hungry, and it made me react impulsively.”

Darsa was slightly moved by Arya’s words. Despite his temper and cruelty, he still had a shred of sympathy. “Stay here and don’t go anywhere! I’ll get you some water and food.”

Seizing the moment, Arya began formulating his escape. Watching Darsa walk away, he took a deep breath to steady himself. Then, he slowly rose to his feet and broke into a sprint.

“Darsa, you fool! The boy’s escaping. After him!” Restu shouted. He had caught a glimpse of Arya darting into the forest.

Darsa spun around and ran after him, followed by five other members of the human trafficking syndicate.