The metallic sound of chains was barely fading in the confined air of the training room, giving way to a heavy silence, punctuated only by the panting breaths of exhausted slaves. The smell of sweat and stone dust permeated every corner of this underground space, creating an oppressive atmosphere that clung to the skin like second nature.
Mordred was already approaching Adrien, his measured steps echoing faintly on the worn stone floor. Livia, absorbed in training the other slaves, barked her orders in a hoarse voice, whipping the air with her riding crop without paying the slightest attention to the silent exchange brewing in the shadows. Her piercing eyes swept over the moving bodies, searching for the slightest weakness, the slightest hesitation to correct with a brutal gesture.
