The name echoed in Ethan's mind, disbelief folding into a dark, sharp realization.
David, the once-proud prodigy from the academy. A noble. A dueling champion.
Now here… reduced to nothing more than a slave.
Ethan watched as David staggered slightly, the firewood slipping from the basket. A lean goblin, dressed in patchy armor and carrying a rusted whip, screeched something in its guttural tongue before swinging the whip forward with a snap.
Crack!
The sound echoed sharply through the air.
The whip lashed across David's back with brutal precision, tearing through his ragged shirt and drawing a bright, angry line of blood. David tensed but didn't cry out—he merely clenched his jaw, pain flashing across his face before disappearing under years of learned stoicism.
Then, he turned.
Their eyes met.
And for a moment, everything else faded.
