Ashen's thoughts churned with dread. 'Even if we somehow make it back, what happens when this line falls? Esperra won't stand a chance.'
Now that he wasn't so ignorant about the threats they were in, going back home and hoping for the best didn't sound so appealing anymore.
Images of his family surfaced in his mind—his mother's gentle smile, his sister's infectious laughter, and Alice's bright eyes. He saw their faces twisted in terror, their bodies broken, devoured by unspeakable monstrosities.
His breath caught.
'No.' The word cut through his spiraling thoughts like a blade. His fists clenched, nails digging into his palms. 'That can't happen. It won't.'
Cornelia, standing tall on the podium, seemed to sense the lingering fear among the survivors.
Her crimson eyes scanned the room, taking in their distraught faces. When she spoke again, her tone softened slightly, carrying an almost consoling note.
"Do not sell yourselves short," she began. "You have already proven your worth by surviving the past seven days. That alone shows you possess something others do not—whether it's adaptability, strength, resourcefulness, or even sheer luck."
She allowed her words to linger, then continued. "You will not be thrown onto the battlefield as you are. Over the next six months, you will train at a military academy funded by every human faction on Seravelle."
Seeing that her words abated the chaos to a certain degree, she continued.
"This academy is the best of its kind. With effort and determination, you will not only survive but perhaps even thrive."
The crowd's collective tension eased, if only slightly. Many sighed in relief, grateful for the promise of preparation and the fate of being thrown into a war as they are.
Cornelia pressed on, her voice steady. "And remember, you are not alone in this fight. Your predecessors are already holding the line, and your successors will join you in time. Together, we stand against the tide. Together, we will prevail."
Ashen noticed the subtle shift in the crowd's demeanor. Though fear still lingered, many seemed resigned to their fate, adopting a cautious wait-and-see attitude.
He really had to give it to Cornelia. Her charisma was out of this world.
But there was always that one guy.
A long-haired man with bulging muscles stood, his tank top and torn shorts giving him the air of someone who thrived on rebellion.
"Miss, I get where you're coming from," he said with a cocky grin. "But I'm not interested in playing war hero. How about you just send us back to Esperra?"
His words rekindled the dying embers of defiance.
"Yeah! Send us back!" Another shouted.
"And compensate us for what we've been through!" demanded a woman near the back.
"Do you think of us as your slaves?! We will never give up our freedom!"
This sentence seemed to fire the crowd up as more and more voices started adding to the chaos.
"YES! GIVE US BACK OUR FREEDOM!!"
"FREEDOM!"
"FREEDOM!!"
"FREEDOM!!!"
Ashen and his two companions watched the scene unfold in silence. Braun shook his head, muttering, "Idiots. Did they forget who brought them here in the first place?"
"They're just feeling brave because they're in a group," Ashen replied, his voice low. "Safety in numbers makes people say stupid things."
Seraphine, who had been quiet until now, pointed with her chin toward the podium. "Look."
Ashen followed her gaze.
Cornelia stood rigid, her fiery hair framing a face twisted with barely contained fury. Her eyes burned brighter, and her lips pressed into a thin line.
Then, as if a switch was turned, a voice cut through the growing clamor like a knife.
"Silence."
The single word carried such weight that the hall instantly fell still.
Cornelia now seemed to be a completely new person.
Gone was the understanding tone, gone was the sympathetic speech.
Her gaze swept over them. "I always try to be nice at first," she said, her tone laced with venom. "But niceties are wasted on ingrates. Allow me to remind you of your place."
She took a step forward, her presence more oppressive.
"Do you know why you were chosen?"
"..."
"Simple. We made our selections from the dregs of society. Addicts. Debtors. Criminals. Greedy fools who fell for a baited trap. The kind of people who will not be missed."
Her words struck like a whip, each syllable laced with contempt.
The crowd's expressions darkened, despair mingling with humiliation. Even Ashen felt the sting of her words.
Cornelia smirked, a cruel edge to her lips. "And let me remind you of the contracts you signed. They are not mere scraps of paper. They are Death Contracts."
Gasps rippled through the venue at the implication of that name. Fear seeped into the air, thick and suffocating.
Many couldn't help imagining the worst.
And it seemed their fears proved justified as they heard Cornelia's next words.
"Yes," she continued, her voice cold. "Do you think the law has any kind of power in this place?"
Now the sneer on her face couldn't be hidden any longer as she looked almost happy to drown them in fear. "Every breach of your contract will result in escalating pain until you comply—or until you die. So banish those foolish ideas of rebellion, complaints, or sabotage."
Her eyes glinted with dark amusement as she delivered her final blow. "Freedom? Fear is freedom. Liberation? Subjugation is liberation. Contradiction is truth. These are the realities of your new world. Accept them, you pigs in human clothing!"
Huff
Cornelia huffed, her chest rising and falling as if expelling the last of her frustration.
Then, without another word, she turned and strode away, her movements elegant, the perfect contrast to the venom she had just spewed.
The hall was silent, save for the shallow breathing of the terrified crowd.
Ashen stared after her, his thoughts swirling.
He wasn't keen on going back without first uncovering how much of Cornelia's words are true, but having a choice and choosing to stay will always be different from being forced, even if the result is the same.
In the end, he knew one thing for certain: there was no going back.