Chapter 3

Aart felt that he was in a very long dream.

In that dream, he relived everything he went through at the hands of those people. He could see, hear, and smell. It was so really, even the pain seemed to be there.

His flesh felt like it was being cut and torn away again, and he could hear the laughter around him as if his pain and suffering amused them.

Was that his final punishment? Relive all those horrible experiences?

But what had he done wrong? He never asked to be born, so why would he need to relive all that?

Aart shouted mentally, but no one else seemed to hear him. And no one ever would again.

His body was freezing, and unconsciously he began to shiver when he saw the instrument, similar to na iron tongs, in the hands of one of the sorcerers. He gradually approached him, and his mouth was forced open. So when it finally touched his lips, he woke up.

Breathing rapidly, Aart felt his body sweaty and clammy. Aside from feeling heavy, it was almost as if he hadn’t used them in a while. But luckily, he felt no pain.

So that was it? Is his Purgatory over, and can he finally rest in peace?

“Hey, are you awake? “ A voice sounded beside him before a warm hand was pressed on his forehead.

That made Aart open his eyes instantly, only to close them again against the clarity.

“Hey, don’t open your eyes like that, you’ll hurt them. You’ve spent five days sleeping, your eyes need to adapt again “ the person next to you complained as if scolding him for being careless.

Mentally rolling his eyes, Aart waited a while until he could open them again. The first thing he noticed was that he was in a room. The place was airy, and despite not being large it felt comfortable and cozy. It also made him notice that he was lying on a soft surface, and a fluffy fabric was over his body which made lying down pleasant.

Turning his head stiffly, Aart took a good look at the person who had just been speaking. Black hair, blue eyes, or just eyes if you took into account the fact that one of them was covered. Sharp features, a square jaw, and thick eyebrows. In addition to appearing to have a defined physique. In short, he was beautiful.

And for Aart, who spent his whole life seeing people with genderless beauty, this guy was one of a kind.

The stranger brought his hand there your face when he saw him staring at him. Reflexively closing his eyes, he felt his eyelids being gently stroked.

“ did you see it? It wasn’t so bad to wait “ Hearing the smile in the other’s voice, Aart felt his mood turn sour. He didn’t like to be mocked!

However, in the next second, he completely forgot about the anger. That’s because a soft cloth began to be rubbed on his forehead and neck, trying to clean the sweat still present on his skin.

“ did you have a nightmare? “ the stranger asked softly “ I don’t know what happened but don’t worry. No one is going to hurt you while I’m here.”

Aart continued with his eyes closed, but internally wanted to look at him, thank him, and introduce himself. But unfortunately, it couldn’t.

His mouth felt empty, and he felt na overwhelming urge to cry. Those monsters took away the only thing he loved about himself. His voice.

Ziad saw that the elf didn’t want to talk. Well…he couldn’t blame him. The sorcerers did something truly unforgivable to him.

He discovered something was wrong when he went to feed him one hour and found that something important in his mouth was missing.

Ziad felt his heartbreak, but unfortunately, he couldn’t do anything. Not even paladins could make a limb grow back.

Setting aside the cloth in his hand, Ziad gently stroked the elf’s cheek once before getting up from the bed.

“ I’ll get you something to eat. “

Aart opened his eyes and watched the stranger leave before he closed the door.

Exhaling through his nose, he let his body sink into the soft bed. And now, what would become of him?

He was alive, which was great. But what kind of future could a mute half-elf expect?

His only skill was singing, his voice was beautiful and he expected to be able to earn a living that way. Now that that was no longer possible, he needed to see what other abilities he possessed.

Even though he was a half-elf, he had a strong bond with nature, so using it to his advantage wouldn’t be a problem. But that doesn’t benefit him at all.

Of course, he could try to join na adventurer’s or mercenary’s guild. However, his power was limited, and he couldn’t complete most missions alone. It was also unlikely that he would be able to join any group, even more so now.

So his only option was to try to survive by hunting, however, he was terrible with a bow and arrow. And even if it was good, his bow had been taken, and he didn’t have the money to buy a new one.

Well, it wasn’t like Aart couldn’t try to make a new one, it was just that… his “skills” as a craftsman were unreliable. Even more without the basic materials.

From the looks of it, her only option in the end was prostitution.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t thought of it before, but he steadfastly refused to adhere to that vulgar way of life.

Aart would rather die under a bridge than have to lie with men and women in exchange for money.

But after what he experienced, he felt that it no longer mattered what he did to survive. Being alive was enough.

He wouldn’t deny that he was thirsting for revenge. But what could a weak person like him do?

Nothing.

At least not for now.

Aart would grow stronger, and then one day he would hunt down those who made him suffer. Even if they weren’t the same, and even if they were different “demons”. He still wanted to do justice for those who couldn’t defend themselves. Just like him.

While he was lost in thought, the person who saved him, opened the door. Which made him look instinctively at her.

Raising his eyebrows in surprise, he saw him muddle with a bunch of things he was carrying in his hands.

He went out for a little while when he had a chance to buy so much.

Aart asked himself mentally as he slowly sat up. He wanted to get up and help, but he was weak, and he feared getting in the way.

So he could only watch helplessly as his savior awkwardly carried things into the room. Before throwing them on top of a small table in the corner.

The small table creaked under the unexpected weight, and Aart thought for a second that it was going to break. What the hell did that person buy?

Shaking his aching shoulders, Ziad looked at the person half sitting on the bed, who was looking at him as if a second head had sprouted from his neck.

After giving him a reassuring smile, and a wink. He walked out the door again, picking up the things that fell from his arms from the floor as he went.

Taking a walk down the hall, Ziad checked a second time to see if anything had been missed. When found out wasn’t, he went back to his room, closing the door behind him.

Turning his gaze back to the person on the bed, he saw that he was looking at the things on the table with a complicated expression.

Smiling, he walked over, causing the person to turn their gaze to him.

“Are you hungry?"