savior epic

Chapter 96 Theft
There is no sun here, only slightly brighter times, and very dark times.

What the boy saw every day when he looked up was a black mantle.

Old Fige said that he would leave the precious candlestick to him. In the past few days, the boy tried to reach out to touch it, but Old Fige stared back.

"You can't touch me baby until I'm dead," said old Figg.

The boy had to give up the idea of ​​touching the candlestick.

In his incomplete memory, the boy remembered that his mother said that he should always be kind.

So he went to see the girl with the severed hand a few times and brought them some bread, which, of course, was stolen.

The boy became friends with the girl, and by mistake, he also became friends with a kid named Roman.

When the boy told old Fige about this on the bed, old Fige was very worried.

"Son, you are still young, I don't want you to make so many friends." He said.

"Why, old Figg."

"Because in this slave den, friends are easily consumed." Old Figge worried that he didn't speak clearly enough, and said, "They may disappear without knowing it one day."

"Oh? Dead?"

"Hey, you are so direct, maybe I shouldn't worry about you."

Old Figg coughed violently as he spoke.

He is not in good health, and sometimes he wakes up with a cough in his dreams.

After coughing for a long time, Old Fige managed to recover his breath and said, "You're not far from touching the candlestick, boy."

The boy felt sad for a while, but didn't speak.

"Don't worry, it's not the first time he died." Old Fig said, ordering the boy to close his eyes.

Old Figg didn't have to, he had no eyes.

Early the next morning.

When the boy got up he saw old Figg praying as usual.

Old Fig had no holy image in front of him, only the candlestick, which he said he didn't want to use, never filled a candle or lit it.

The boy had never seen candlelight either.

Old Fige said that he had seen hundreds of candles in a noble's house, which were always brightly lit.

The boy tried to imagine the scene, probably a dozen bonfires piled together.

Old Fig touched the boy's head and said, "When I get clean water to baptize you, I will light this candlestick for you to see."

Originally, the priest should come to baptize, but there are no true priests here, and old Figg doesn't mind presumptuously.

Anyway, he did something more presumptuous—composing scriptures.

The boy nodded, just not expecting it.

This has been said for a long time, many times.

It's just that it is too difficult to get clean water in the slave cave.

Old Fige walked out of the residence, and those slaves who couldn't work were waiting to die here, or went to stand in the market, waiting for passing nobles to look at them.

Old Figg sat among the crowd, and even though he was blind, he could sit there accurately.

Apart from talking about the scriptures he made up, what Old Figge likes most is to brag about his deeds back then.

Especially when he was put to work in the manor, he said that he inspired a group of brave slaves to fight against the nobles together.

"Oh, that riot." A slave said ignorantly.

Old Figg turned his face to the source of the sound, squeezed his eyes, and tried to make a "stare".

"It was an uprising," he said sternly.

"An uprising with only a dozen people? It doesn't even count as a riot."

After the slave finished speaking, he realized what he had said wrong, and carefully looked at old Figg.

He had expected old Figg to be furious.

However, old Fig hung his head dejectedly.

"I was too young and people were too numb."

The boy had heard it many times, and he was throwing stones at statues.

The statue of the hero Mariel who inspired the slaves to work.

The god on the side looked at the statue.

He knew that the hero Mariel not only oppressed himself, but also oppressed others after his death.

Everyone respected the heroes who were respected by the princes and nobles, even if they occasionally scolded those high-class slaves or nobles, but when it came to the so-called heroes, there was always nothing bad to say.

And it is the same when it comes to King Andri.

Old Figge scoffed at other people like this.

He would always tell the boy in private how many statues he had smashed during the uprising.

"Is that hero bad?" the boy had asked him.

"Of course not! It can be said that no one is more evil than him. He was bewitched by those princes and nobles, as well as priests, and mistakenly thought that he was making offerings! He is a bitch! That is not the will of the Lord!"

Old Fige reviled the so-called heroes like this.

The boy made friends, and of course he had to do something for his friends according to his ideas.

Especially the girl with the severed hand, the boy felt that she and her mother were so pitiful.

She starved to death before, and their family starved to death together.

Now his father is dying, and she and her mother are still suffering from hunger.

So the boy and another friend, Roman, ran out of the slave den and went to the market for slaves.

In the chaotic market, most of them are slaves, dressed well, some are servants of nobles, some are high-class slaves.

The bad thing is that some are ordinary slaves. They may sell something in the market between work. Of course, the law does not allow ordinary slaves to own private property, so as long as their masters want to, they can spend their savings. Stuff it in your pocket.

Others, like the boys or the people in the slave caves, are masterless slaves, old Fig told the boys, they don't enjoy freedom, but they are actually free, but there is a small problem, it is easy to be free To die free.

Therefore, slaves without owners are often eager to stand in the market and sell themselves at extremely low prices, grateful to the noble priests.

"There is a priest over there, and he preaches there." Roman pointed to the priest of the Temple of Suffering who stood on the high platform and was dressed in black.

"What will he say?"

"I remember something...that is, the more suffering we Shanbu people suffer now, the happier we will be when we return to the human world in the future.

Moreover, we Shanbu people are the nation that can endure hardship the most, superior to other nations. "Roman said according to the memory, and finally, he was very excited.

The boy vaguely recalled the words of old Fige, the Shanbu people from the Republic, and said, "Really. But old Feige said that Shanbu people are not born to endure hardship."

Roman didn't agree with the boy's words. What he admired most was the hero Mariel.

God looked at all this and understood that this was the oppression Mariel gave to the Shanbu people.

However, what Mariel brought, or rather, what King Andry, who was high above him, brought was a kind of widespread numbness.

Everyone worries about surviving.

No one wants to die again, because that would be a real blow to the soul.

The boy and Roman were walking through the market, and they saw slaves executing slaves on the high platform. If they committed a crime, only one of them could live, and they had to fight each other.

When the heads of the slaves were chopped off by the sword, the Shanbu people burst into cheers.

As if the parasites between them were really executed.

God followed behind the boy.

In this hell, no ancient sayings can be recited.

God watched all this quietly.

He felt that this picture was very familiar, as if he had seen it somewhere.

Have the Shanbu people always been like this?
He looked at the tower, which had begun to be built anew.

The worm behemoth fell asleep with a full meal.

Those strong, high-class slaves took advantage of this opportunity and began to build the tower that could return to the world.

The taller the tower, the harder it is to build.

King Andri, as they called it, has devoted countless efforts to this tower.

The royal family of this hell, for this tower, has exhausted several generations of kings, even if it will be destroyed by giant beasts every time.

He shook his head.

What is the cure for salvation?
Carl asked at the time.

How can I verify the answer in this hell where I can't recite ancient sayings?
The boy saw, too, the great tower which had begun to be built again.

Old Feige often said to him: "Everyone only remembers how many generations of kings were exhausted to death, but they don't remember how many generations of Shanbu people were exhausted to death."

However, the old Fig also said that he did not know how they would return to the world if they did not build the giant tower.

The boy stared at the giant tower for a long time.

Until Roman pulled him and reminded him that he had found his goal.

The boy looked in the direction Roman pointed.

Those are a few noble carriages with exquisite shapes.

Several servants packed boxes of bread into it.

In this hell, there is a special kind of rye that does not need sunlight, but the yield is small and needs to be planted in large quantities. It is wheat specially eaten by slaves.

The bread made from rye was also far harder than the bran bread the boy had eaten before.

"As long as we steal a box, we can eat it for a long time." Roman said greedily.

The boy also nodded. The slave knows the value of food better than anyone else.

However, the boys were also worried about whether it would be difficult for them to steal a whole box of bread.

He told Roman about it.

Roman didn't think so.

"Don't be afraid," Roman just wanted to say his name, but quickly remembered, "I wanted to call you by your name, but I almost forgot that you don't have a name."

The boy shrugged helplessly.

Rolling his eyes and thinking about it, Roman asked, "As a friend, do you want me to give you a name?"

The boy shook his head and said, "No, old Fige said, one day he gets clean water and baptizes me, he will give me a Christian name."

Roman didn't say much. He pointed to the carriage and said, "You are more skilled than me. I'll attract their attention. You secretly move a box. If you can't move it, just throw some bread away."

The boy agreed to the plan.

　Thanks to the Beacon of Destiny for the reward of 3000 starting coins, 30 black iron alliances, it should be considered a brass alliance.

　　Thanks to CrEeD for the reward of 500 starting coins, 5 black iron alliances

　　Thanks to the book friend 20211129180009955 for the reward of 1500 starting coins, 15 black iron alliances

　　Thanks to St. Gallen's sigh for the 100 starting point reward, crowned the Black Iron League.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)