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  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

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  ??????? ?? ???? ??? ?????? ????? ???? ?? ????? ????? ?????? ??? ?? ???? ???? ????? ?????? ?????.

  We began descending from the mountain's base, where the ground was full of sharp rocks and steep slopes. The air was cold and grew colder with every step we took. The moon dimly illuminated the sky.

  The pounding of horse hooves and the soldiers' low, curt conversations filled the air. I felt the restraints tightening around my wrists, and every movement of the horse caused pain to shoot through my body. The paths were narrow and winding, making travel difficult and dangerous.

  From the soldiers' conversations, I learned I was an escaped slave and that we were heading to some palace. It seemed I had gotten myself into a huge mess.

  When I thought about my previous life, I didn't see much difference. I mean, aren't we all slaves to something, even if we're kings?

  We crossed rickety wooden bridges over deep valleys, where the sound of rushing water below was terrifying. Tall, dense trees blocked part of the moonlight, making the path even darker and more mysterious. The wind rustled the dry leaves, creating a sound like whispers, adding to the sense of danger.

  With every mile we drew closer to our destination, I could feel the palace looming ahead. Finally, we reached a cobblestone road, where the ground was relatively even compared to the earlier part of our journey. In the distance, a small castle appeared on the horizon, with its stone towers and black walls, radiating an aura of fear and foreboding.

  At the castle gate, the horses stopped. The soldiers pulled me down harshly from the horse and dragged me toward the large gate, which opened slowly with an ear-piercing sound. The cold stone floor beneath my feet sent chills through me.

  They dragged me through the dark corridors of the small castle. The cold, damp stone walls grew more humid as we approached the main hall. Strangely, the castle seemed almost empty. We arrived at a large wooden door, which one of the soldiers opened, revealing a vast, dimly lit room. In the center of the room was an imposing man who looked important.

  The man was dressed in luxurious clothing, and his face exuded authority and experience. His cold eyes examined me intently, as if searching for something.

  The same soldier who had whipped me shoved me into the room and closed the door. Suddenly, a man emerged from the shadows. Bald and with a thick black beard that hung unevenly, he looked like a dark version of Santa Claus!

  The soldier removed his helmet, revealing a face distinguished by a thick mustache and a long scar stretching from the corner of his mouth to his left cheek.

  The soldier spoke in a hoarse, gruff voice.

  "Sir, we returned him as quickly as possible, but we don't know if he met anyone… He should be killed."

  Wait a second! I just got here, you idiots.

  "Tyrion!" the bearded man spoke.

  "Are you the one responsible for all these injuries?" he asked the soldier firmly.

  "And what of it? Boundaries must be set, or these Luminions might think they're our equals," the soldier retorted defiantly.

  "You fool! They may just be batteries, but we need them alive and healthy."

  I didn't understand a thing! I just watched silently. But personally, I supported the black Santa.

  "But perhaps we don't need this Luminion," the bald man said.

  "Wait, what? Is he referring to me?" I finally spoke for the first time.

  "Shut up, slave!" the soldier barked, hitting me on the head. A grin spread across his scarred face as he added, "Give me the order, sir, and I'll slit this brat's throat."

  I had completely forgotten there was a third man in the room. He must be the king or something. I silently prayed for mercy… What a miserable situation.

  Before he could speak, I felt a sudden movement beside me.

  Suddenly, a girl rushed into the room. Her long hair flowed behind her, and her eyes sparkled with joy. Without hesitation, she hugged me tightly, as if she'd known me for a long time. I was confused and unsure of the situation, but the warmth of her embrace made me feel strangely safe. The atmosphere in the room shifted noticeably.

  "White! Where have you been? I was so worried about you!" she said.

  Her voice was childish yet sweet. Her wheat-colored skin, blonde hair, and light blue eyes were stunning. Her body was perfection itself, and her pink dress only added to her beauty.

  "Liana!" the important-looking man finally spoke.

  She replied sharply, "Uncle? Please don't kill White; he's my favorite."

  Yes, Uncle, don't kill me. Don't kill poor White.

  "But my dear…" the man struggled to find the right words. His authority would become a joke if he had to listen to his niece.

  But the girl was as stubborn as a bull, puffing her cheeks and crossing her arms.

  "I hate you, Uncle! I won't continue the rituals!"

  "Fine, fine. I'm sorry, my dear," he finally relented.

  "And heal his wounds," she demanded.

  Oh, Liana, how kind you are! Now, please, someone get me a doctor.

  The important-looking man scrutinized me for a moment before raising his right hand, which glowed with a faint blue light. He approached me with confident steps and placed his hand over my wounds. A gentle warmth spread through my body, as if magical energy was flowing from his hand into me.

  The blue light intensified, and I felt the pain gradually fade away. My wounds began to heal miraculously, and the scars disappeared. The man whispered incomprehensible words, like ancient spells enhancing the healing power.

  After a few moments, he lifted his hand, and the blue light vanished. I felt completely restored, with no trace of the wounds that had tormented me. The man looked at me with a faint smile.

  Well, it seems this world is magical!

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