"Wake up! Hey, you! Wake up!" A deep, tired voice called. An old man in a suit of fine silk called; his dried throat hurt, but it didn't matter, not when he could see the blood gushing out of the youngster's cracked skull.
"Where… am I…" The youngster barely managed to open his eyes, and the pain was far worse than it was before. "My head!" He growled and punched the steel ground. "That ugly mug… I'll remember this." With such a hit, he should've died already. That man was trying to kill him, and such a thing can never be forgiven.
As the youngster sat up, the old man sighed. "Are you all right? All that blood… I wish we could get a healer here." His skull was caved in from the back, blood had coagulated with his black hair, and now, he looked more like a dead man than a living one.
Looking around, they were locked inside a massive steel cage, and the two of them weren't alone. Several other people were sitting in the corner, their faces as pale as snow; men, women, even a few children, and some elderly people.
"We're inside a bandits' camp. I'm a traveling merchant, and those are my crew and some travelers. We were attacked and captured on the road. I did hire two Blessed as our guards, but they got injured fighting an Abomination, and the bandits took that chance to ambush us. You're like us; they captured you in the forest, right?" The old man shook his head. "Poor lad, my crew and I are going to be put up for ransom, but you, I think they'll sell you to the highest bidder. What's your name? Do you have any family members who could pay for you?"
The Merchant then gave the young man a second look. He didn't look like he should even be alive with such a wound, and while that might lower his price for some, many criminals might find him a suitable bait or gladiator to face the Abominations. After the Abominable Invasion and the fall of humanity, people's lives had turned into a currency in this world where manpower was scarce. Especially for those who don't want to obey the world government, like those bandits.
Feeling the pain throbbing at the back of his head, the rage and blood rushing through his veins, his name finally came back to him, and it felt so good to finally remember what he was called, as if his name was an integral part of his soul, and with it came a whole new rush of power.
"Dante, I think that's my name." He mumbled, looked down at his hands, and then right back at the merchant. "Yeah, that's it. I'm Dante…" That was all he could remember, nothing else, but it was still better than when he ate his fill.
The pain riddling his head lessened a bit, and his entire body felt lighter. His blurry vision cleared, and his hoarse breath steadied. It was as if his name, in and of itself, was something that was integral to his existence, and just by knowing it, he could understand it wasn't complete.
He can ponder the meaning of his own name later on, but for now, he has more important business to take care of, and so he turned around, stared at the cage's lock, and smiled. "I'm going to make them pay."
That mere sentence, escaping his lips like a growl, didn't sound like human speech at all, but a simple matter of fact, a pure reality that couldn't be changed. The merchant had heard people speak like that a lot, like when a king declares war, when a holy knight swears to slay something, or when the Blessed stand off to face the Abominations.
The merchant saw the crazed look on Dante's face and immediately felt a shiver run down his spine. He had lived long enough to have seen countless outlaws, bandits, and murderers, and this kid here had a nastier glare than any of them. It might've been because of the pain, but such a face was already scaring the kids in the back.
It almost reminded him of the glare the Great Saintess makes when fighting.
"Dante, that is your name, right?" The merchant approached him with a worried face. "Please, sit down and rest. I'll get you ransomed with us. Don't do anything rash. You're injured, and we're locked in here; don't start a scene and make things worse for us."
Dante took a deep breath and then calmed himself down. He had to take his time and make sure he survived. That is the most important thing, and the old man was right; he can't act rashly and get killed.
Dante looked out through the cage's bars and counted the bandits around the camp; there were at least twenty of them. Most were decently equipped, but none seemed to wear heavy armor, just leather or gambeson at best, and none of them looked too muscular or strong.
Dante looked out through the cage's bars and counted the bandits around the camp; there were at least twenty of them. Most were decently equipped, but none seemed to wear heavy armor, just leather or gambeson at best, and none of them looked too muscular or strong.
Those bandits were just a bunch of poor, hungry, and unkempt ruffians and outlaws, not trained soldiers. They clearly didn't have any support and had to fend for themselves here in the wild.
He can defeat them and escape, as long as he doesn't get surrounded by more than two at a time. Of course, that is only the case if he wanted to deal with them all, but he only wanted to smash the head of the guy who hit him and then escape.
Dante could already see the bastard laughing beside the campfire, and he couldn't wait to pay him back. But for now, he can't do anything. Even if he gets out of the cage, he'll get swarmed by all the bandits at once and just end up dead or beaten to a pulp.
Sitting down, Dante crawled to the back of the cage and closed his eyes. He had to rest for now and recover a bit. The other people in the cage stared at him for a short moment, but then started ignoring him. The only one who stayed by his side was the old merchant.
The merchant sighed, "You're one tough brat. I've seen trained soldiers fall to the ground with such injuries. Not many can stay conscious with a cracked skull. Even the two Blessed I hired. One was a Mundane and the other Touched, yet they fell quickly. The Mundane got killed fighting the monsters when she ran out of bullets, and when the Touched one finished them off, the bandits swarmed us and took the chance to kill him." He had worked once as an army and expedition supplier and delivered goods to the front lines, and what he saw was harrowing.
"The pain is what keeps me awake." Dante forced a smile. "Don't worry about me, just shut up and let me rest." The pain won't let him fall asleep, but he can at least try to close his eyes and rest a bit.
Minutes passed, and that quickly turned into hours. While Dante kept his eyes closed and waited, he occasionally opened one of them to look at the bandits. Before going out and beating the guy who hit him, Dante had to first escape this cage, and to do that, he needed to open the massive padlock on the cage's door.
As he noticed the bandits all gathering around the campfire to eat dinner, Dante slid his hand out of the cage and scooped some dirt from the ground. It shouldn't take the bandit long to go to sleep, so he doesn't have much time to practice, but his plan should work just fine.
Another two hours passed, and finally, the bandits were going to sleep, but to Dante's bad luck, the bastard who hit him didn't go to sleep; he was on the first guard shift. Dante had wished to escape early at night so they wouldn't be able to track him, but it seems that he might not get away until the crack of dawn.
Four more hours passed by, and finally, the guard shifts changed, and the bastard went to sleep. It was Dante's time to strike. He had to move while the new guard was still sleepy, so he didn't waste any time and crawled toward the cage's door.