Chapter 14: Numbing
Stefan’s POV
I groaned, dragging myself upright off the ground, every joint in my body protesting the movement like I’d aged forty years overnight.
"Alright. Alright, big guy, time to get up." I patted my own chest weakly. "Time to go earn some of these damned points before the system decides to bankrupt you completely."
I grabbed the numbing salve first, rubbing it across my chest, down along my ribs, anywhere the deepest ache had settled in overnight. The relief hit almost instantly, and for a few blessed seconds I actually felt human again.
Then I remembered it wouldn’t last. A few minutes, maybe less. What I actually needed was the healing oil sitting tauntingly in that shop list, and I didn’t have nearly enough saved to touch it.
"Sixty points. For oil. Highway robbery is what this is." I hissed and shook my head.
I figured I would knock out an easy task first. Push-ups. How hard could that be?
I lowered myself down onto the ground, braced, and pushed.
My arms gave out before I’d even made it through the first full rep, pain shooting hot through my ribs, and I collapsed flat onto my face with a groan that probably scared something nearby.
"Yeah. Yeah, that’s not happening today." I spat sand out of my mouth.
I dragged myself back up, found my way to the bathhouse, rinsed off as best I could manage with my body screaming the entire time, and finally stepped outside into the early light.
The camp was nearly empty, which struck me as strange until I realized I’d simply never been awake this early before. Every other morning I’d either been unconscious or recovering. This was the first time I actually got to see what daily life here looked like before chaos found me.
Off at one end of camp, a handful of slaves crouched low over open fires, cooking something that smelled vaguely like the meat I’d eaten the night before, two warriors standing guard over them with bored, half-lidded expressions, like watching slaves cook breakfast ranked somewhere near watching paint dry.
The rest of the warriors had gathered just past the edge of camp, deep in the bush, working through some kind of group exercise.
I made my way closer, slow and careful, telling myself I was just scouting the area, just being cautious.
That lie lasted exactly until I got a clear view of them.
"Oh, sweet Jesus."
Dozens of warriors, moving in perfect unison, all that gold skin glistening with sweat under the early morning light.
Their bodies were bending and stretching in ways that should’ve come with a warning label somewhere on this planet. Every single one of those massive, impossible curves bounced and rolled with each movement, thighs flexing, backs arching, and I stood there absolutely drooling, completely useless, my cock twitching hard and insistent against the fabric of my slave cloth.
"No," I told it firmly, like that had ever worked on any part of my anatomy before. "No, we are not doing this. Twenty-four hours. 50 AP. We can survive one morning."
It did not seem convinced. Neither, honestly, was I.
However, I forced my eyes away, swallowing hard, willing my body into something resembling discipline.
"Where’s she?" I wondered aloud.
The General wasn’t anywhere in sight, which I counted as a small mercy in an otherwise miserable morning. At least whatever consequences were coming for Jonquil pulling me out of punishment hadn’t caught up to either of us yet.
One disaster at a time, I figured. I had a quota to fill.
I crept along the edge of the clearing, trying my best to be invisible, right up until a sharp voice cut clean through whatever plan I thought I had.
"You. Why do you lazy around? Have you no task?"
I spun toward the warrior glaring at me. The glare was cold enough to bury me six feet. That got me moving instantly.
I grabbed the nearest clay pot off the ground without missing a single beat, and hurried off in the vague general direction of the river like that had been my plan the entire time.
"Right. Water. Obviously. Exactly what I was doing, ma’am."
She didn’t look convinced either, but she also didn’t stop me, which I counted as a win.
My new route happened to take me directly past the training grounds, which I told myself, again, was a complete coincidence.
I spotted Wildrose first, sparring hard against another warrior, sharp brutal movements even in what was supposedly just practice. I winced just watching the impacts, my own ribs aching in sympathy.
Jonquil was nearby, working through some kind of jumping drill, and I watched her a beat too long, the memory of last night flooding back uninvited - how impossibly, embarrassingly fast I had finished, how mortifying the whole thing had felt curled up in my chest even hours later.
Then I remembered something that actually made me feel a little better.
She had no idea. No concept of premature, no concept of any shame attached to lasting ten seconds instead of ten minutes. As far as she knew, that’s just how it worked.
"Small mercies," I muttered, letting the shame go as quickly as it had crept back in.
None of the warriors seemed to notice me drifting along the edge of their training, too locked into their own drills to spare a glance at one random slave with a water pot.
I kept walking, scanning the clearing, when I spotted her.
A warrior off on her own, mid-exercise, who’d apparently just stepped wrong onto a cluster of long, thorned flowers growing low along the ground.
She was crouched, gritting her teeth, pulling thorns free one at a time, black blood welling up from a dozen small punctures along her shin and ankle with every one she removed.
I didn’t think about it. I just moved.
I dropped to my knees beside her, set down the water pot, and started pulling thorns out myself, faster than she’d been managing alone, working quick and steady through each one.
"Slaves don’t touch me!" she growled out, watching me with an expression that screamed irritation as if the mere touch of a slave would burn her golden skin.
"Hold still," I said, not looking up, totally ignoring her. I was focused entirely on the last few thorns buried deep in her skin.
Once they were all out, I sat back on my heels and looked around for something, anything, to stop the bleeding. Nothing. No spare cloth anywhere nearby.
I glanced at her face, then down at my own slave cloth, and tore a strip free without hesitating, wrapping it tight around the wound on her leg.
She stayed quiet through the whole thing, just watching me work with an expression I genuinely couldn’t read.
I bought a dose of numbing salve from the shop and rubbed it gently into the skin around the wrap. Her jaw dropped open slightly - the only reaction she gave, but it was enough to tell me she hadn’t expected relief to come this fast, or maybe hadn’t expected relief from a slave at all.
[DAILY TASK COMPLETE: Help a warrior.]
[+20 AP]
I smiled, genuinely pleased with myself for the first time since waking up in agony this morning.
"Something like that."
