Chapter 706 The Problems Of The Eighth Earth 2
Old Meg made his way through the dimly lit passages of the underground hideout, the flickering light from the occasional candle casting elongated shadows on the walls. His steps were purposeful, each one bringing him closer to the room where his family awaited. The air was cool and damp, a constant reminder of their subterranean refuge.
He arrived at a special chamber, its atmosphere distinctly different from the rest of the hideout. The room was aglow with the soft light of white candles, their flames dancing gently, casting a warm, comforting glow. The wax-laden tables around the room bore witness to countless hours of vigil and prayer, the candles meticulously replaced to keep the sacred space illuminated.
At the center of this sanctified chamber stood a statue of a man, a heroic figure captured in the midst of battle. Shirtless and wielding a sword in each hand, the statue depicted him in the act of slaying a demon. This was more than a mere sculpture; it was a symbol of hope and resistance, an embodiment of their fight for freedom. The figure was none other than Saint Lenny Tales, a man whose legend had grown to mythical proportions among these people.
Around the statue, a group of worshippers knelt in reverence, their prayers whispered in the flickering candlelight. Old Meg, however, viewed the scene with a mix of respect and frustration. His journey through the semi-dark caves had been to reunite with his family, not to partake in the worship.
He navigated through the gathering, his eyes set on a woman who knelt at the forefront. She was Jasper, the priestess of this congregation and, more importantly, his wife. Old Meg leaned in, whispering into her ear. She nodded in understanding and rose, stepping away from the group to join him.
As she emerged from the gathering, Jasper immediately wrapped her arms around Old Meg, her relief and love evident. "Praise be to Saint Lenny Tales, Husband, you have finally done it," she exclaimed, her voice a mix of awe and gratitude. She peppered his cheek with kisses, her emotions overflowing. Her appearance, though marked by the scars of a harsh life, held a beauty that was undiminished by the trials she had faced.
Old Meg welcomed the affection but couldn't hide his irritation at her attributing their potential salvation to Saint Lenny Tales. "It is my hard work, sweat, and blood that did this, Jasper, and not your so-called Saint Lenny Tales. Now hurry up, get the kids; we leave this night!" he urged, his tone firm yet filled with an underlying current of concern.
Jasper's surprise was evident. "This night?" she echoed, her voice tinged with fear. "But the demons are out there. If we go, they will..." Her words trailed off as Old Meg gently placed a hand over her lips, silencing her worries with a tender gesture.
"Just trust me, my love. I promised to give you a free life ten years ago when I stole you from that Gladiator pit," he said, his eyes briefly lingering on a particular scar below her shoulder. It was a harsh reminder of her past, a brand once used to mark her as property, now a symbol of their shared struggle for freedom.
"I will not stop until I give you true freedom!" Old Meg declared, his vow sealed with a kiss that spoke of his deep love and unwavering commitment. The kiss ignited a renewed love in Jasper's heart, a testament to their enduring bond.
"Okay! Go get our daughter, and meet me at the gathering point. We leave for Glenn's territory immediately!" he instructed. With a nod, Jasper hurried off to gather their child, her steps quickened by the hope that now flickered in her heart.
In the candlelit room, amidst the silent prayers and flickering shadows, Old Meg stood resolute. The night's escape would be perilous, but their chance at freedom was within reach, and he was determined to seize it. The underground hideout, with its mix of despair and hope, had been their sanctuary, but now it was time to leave it behind and journey toward a new beginning.
Jasper returned swiftly, the urgency of their departure evident in her brisk steps. In her arms, she cradled their daughter, a girl whose appearance belied her true age. Born only months ago, she already looked to be around ten years old, a testament to the gladiator genes inherited from her mother. The rapid growth was a remarkable trait, one that made their child stand out in a world where the ordinary had long since been left behind.
Along with their daughter, Jasper also carried a miniature statue of Saint Lenny Tales, a symbol of her steadfast faith. Old Meg noticed the statue and, despite his personal feelings towards this object of worship, chose not to comment. Time was of the essence, and he understood all too well his wife's unwavering devotion. Her faith had been a source of strength in a life marred by hardship and suffering, a beacon in the darkness of their existence. He respected her beliefs, even if he didn't share them, recognizing that everyone clung to whatever hope they could find in these dire times.
Together, they made their way through the dimly lit caves, a labyrinth of passages that had become their home. Their destination was the rendezvous point where they would meet Gonvo and the others who had decided to embark on this perilous journey to freedom.
Upon arriving at the designated spot, they found Gonvo waiting for them. He was not alone; twenty others stood with him, each person a story of resilience and defiance. These were individuals who had chosen to risk it all for a chance at a better life, away from the tyranny of the Blood Demon and the horrors that plagued their land. They were a diverse group, united by a common goal: to reach Glenn's territory, a place rumored to be a haven in a world overrun by darkness.
Gonvo greeted them with a nod, his expression serious yet hopeful. The atmosphere among the group was tense but determined. Each person knew the risks involved in their escape. The journey would be fraught with danger, and there was no guarantee of success. But the alternative—remaining in a land devoid of freedom and filled with fear—was no longer an option.
Old Meg looked around at the faces of his companions, each one set with resolve. He felt a surge of solidarity with these people....
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