The underground tunnels were cold and damp, with the occasional water droplets falling from the ceiling and greeting the necks of the prisoners they landed on.
And yet, aside from the habitual squeals of a few rats frequenting the place, only the rugged huffs of some of the nearby slaves entered Cyrus's ears, prompting the guard carrying him to turn around and shout impatiently
''Keep walking!''
Cyrus's mind was still foggy, but he could finally see what was going on around him as his condition began to stabilize. At the very least, the pain around his neck didn't get any worse, and despite the potent taste of iron in his mouth, he had stopped vomiting blood a long time ago. His blurry vision had also turned back to normal, allowing him to get a clear view of his new surroundings.
He had no idea how long he'd been carried for, but judging by the tiredness of the slaves around him, it must have been at least a couple of hours since they'd descended into the tunnels.
And yet, the iron warden didn't seem exhausted in the slightest, the cold plated steel underneath his legs clanging rhythmically as he continued to march forward.
As he turned his head to the side, Cyrus was stunned when he noticed that 298 had passed out, his unconscious body still slumping over the guard's massive arm. However, from the subtle contractions and expansions of his chest, it was clear that the long-limbed youth was still alive.
Regardless, Cyrus didn't have a chance to observe the older youth much longer, as a bright ray of moonlight suddenly drew his attention. He wasn't the only one who noticed it, either. Raising his head, the guard threw a glance at the open space in the distance where the rays of moonlight could freely seep in, and realized they had finally reached the end of the tunnel.
His footsteps then halted, and without a warning, the man dropped both Cyrus and 298 on the ground before he turned to look at the two other guards behind him.
Cyrus barely managed to cushion the fall using his palms and knees, the forceful movement causing his neck to flare with another wave of pain. However, 298's situation was even worse than his own. The unconscious youth slammed on the ground face first, before he collapsed listlessly on the rocky ground below him.
Meanwhile, the second and third guards were both stationed at the rear of the group, making sure that none of the prisoners were acting out of line before they stepped forward and joined the first one.
They didn't even spare a glance at the bleeding youth whose wounds had just reopened and just turned to the first guard, as one of them asked solemnly
''What now? We can't stay here, but we can't go outside either. There is no way we can hide this many slaves without being noticed by the city guard.''
The first guard however unhesitantly shook his head, the gleam in his eyes just as cold and merciless as ever, as he responded
''We can't stay in the tunnels. It's only a matter of time before the Order of Zephyr bastards find the entrance and trace us all the way here. We have to move. We'll take the slaves and wait near the Amethyst forest until reinforcements arrive.''
Cyrus could see the other two guards falling silent momentarily, almost as if they were contemplating the man's 'suggestion'. Unfortunately, little did they know that the armored giant had already decided on their course of action and wasn't going to waste any more time convincing them.
Turning his gaze towards the slaves, the guard continued coldly
''Listen here, rats. You will follow us to the entrance of the Amethyst forest and you will be very quiet while doing it. I'm sure many of you have realized this already, but anyone who defies my orders will die tonight. I have no qualms about killing a bunch of trash, so keep your mouths shut and fall in line! We are moving, now!''
Cyrus could hear disgruntled groans all around him, as the prisoners stared at the man with dismayed expressions.
Even the second and the third guards couldn't conceal the looks of disbelief from showing on their faces. However, perhaps it was due to the first guard's seniority over them, or maybe it was due to his overwhelming physical features, but both of them chose to remain silent in the end.
Cyrus didn't doubt it was probably the latter.
Still, despite their hesitation, the two guards merely looked at each other before they resumed their positions at the rear of the group and shouted coldly
''Move out!''
Seeing how 298 had yet to recover, the first guard shook his head and muttered what Cyrus thought he heard was a ''useless trash'', before picking his limp body back up and making his way towards the wooden staircase where the moonlight gleamed from.
As for Cyrus, it was clear that the guard had already noticed he was awake and decided to let him make it back on his own.
Gritting his teeth, Cyrus followed after the man along with the rest of the prisoners as they got out of the tunnels.
..
The cold night breeze was the first thing Cyrus felt as he left the tunnel, his tattered clothes fluttering in the wind as his steps halted. Cold… It was so cold and yet, the frigid air wasn't what stunned him and caused his heart to nearly stop beating. No, it was the boundless greenery Cyrus hadn't seen for 3 years, along with the endless starry sky that he could only look at whenever he stepped into the Bloodpit.
This… was the world outside the Red Arena that he had almost forgotten!
While more and more prisoners climbed out of the pit, Cyrus struggled to contain his raging emotions and that 'evil' thought that was forcefully trying to take root in his mind despite all his logical reasoning!
On one hand, he knew it was hopeless to try and escape. He knew that the first guard was an Ironbound warrior who surpassed him in every physical aspect, especially in strength and speed! Even if Cyrus wasn't wounded, he wouldn't be able to make it more than a few dozen meters from his current location before the guard caught up to him and executed him on the spot.
On the other hand though, staring at the not-so-distant city gates of Morwyn, or the entrance of that forest with those unique, purple-colored trees, he couldn't help but wonder… what if he could make it? No, even if he was tired and gravely injured, wasn't it better to die trying than continue to live in misery and let the Red Arena profit from his suffering?
Even if the chances of success were infinitesimal and even if certain death was the only thing that awaited him on the other side, Cyrus couldn't stop these self-destructive thoughts from taking root in his mind.
And for better or worse… he wasn't the only one either!