Sins of the Forefathers: A LitRPG Fantasy Isekai

My breath hitched in my chest. Oh…fuck. What the hell was he doing here?

Lord Magnus of House Savoy was much as I remembered him to be. Dark of hair and beard, both were worn long and elaborately styled. Shorter than Azarus, he was dressed in fancy-looking green and gold robes, complete with a fucking mantle. Even from where I knelt in the wagon, I could see the malevolent glint in his pale, golden eyes.

Azarus took a deep breath before speaking. “I…appreciate it, cousin.” He said between gritted teeth. “But I don’t need one. I’d prefer to just get back home after my long trip.”

Magnus chuckled to himself in the dead silence of the square, before walking forward to stand an arm’s length before Azarus. He shook his head. “Oh no, I don’t think so. After all, I wouldn’t want to be seen as unwelcoming, would I? No, no, that wouldn’t do at all.” He paused for a moment before meeting Azarus’s eyes. “I couldn’t possibly be seen to be less welcoming of my blood than that Florens harlot.”

That made Azarus tense up even more and take a step forward to Magnus. Before he could take more than a single step, however, every guard in the square reacted. All of them reached for their weapons at once, creating a cacophony of clanging armor. Azarus paused while Magnus barely reacted, beyond a slight widening of his smile.

“Oh yes.” Magnus nearly purred. “I heard about your grand entrance to Rhoscara.”

I felt the blood drain from my face, leaving me feeling light-headed. He knew about that? He knew about the whole scene in Elysael’s throne room?

But…

That was where I had boasted about not having a complete slave bond…

While I was panicking, Magnus had continued speaking. “I have to say, cousin, I didn’t know you had it in you. I’ve always thought you were too unspeakably dull to conduct such an act before a court. However…” He suddenly lurched forward closer to Azarus. “I DON’T APPRECIATE YOU STEPPING ON MY TOES!” Magnus screamed, an inch away from his face.

Stepping back and straightening his clothes, Magnus wasn’t smiling anymore. “You know I’m using those filthy knife ears to supply the slaves I need.” He hissed. “Father won’t send any more, and I don’t have the coin to buy them at market rate. I will not be denied my entertainment if I’m to be consigned to this filthy backwater.”

Wait, what?

He was only pissed about the elf thing?

From where I knelt, I could see that Azarus was slightly confused as well.

Magnus must have noticed as well, because he sneered. “Oh, do wipe that pathetic look off your face. There’s no use pretending innocence in this matter. My agent in that strumpet’s court supplied me with a full transcript of your so-called ‘welcoming ceremony’. I know all about how you flounced around that dingy little hall, practically weeping about the poor humes being enslaved at the border. How the nasty knife ears have been snatching up the peasants, and how you supposedly drove them off.” He threw up his hands in frustration. “Father expressly forbade such interference! How did those gullible dunces fall for such drivel!”

Azarus glanced over at me while Magnus was throwing a temper tantrum. I think we had both realized what was happening by now. Somehow, Magnus had either received wrong information, or his information had been doctored before he had received it. Everything that I had done in court was being attributed to Azarus instead, excluding everything to do with me. I tried to hide the relief on my face. Azarus smirked at me slightly before blanking his face and turning back to face Magnus.

“As it is,” Magnus continued after calming down, glowering at Azarus. “I intercepted a report that the band of rabid dogs I’d contracted have been driven deeper into the Barren Forest by Rhoscaran troops. So, how do you intend to atone for your actions?”

Azarus was silent for a moment. “I’ve made my stance on slavery quite clear in the pa-” He tried to say evenly.

Magnus interrupted him with a sharp gesture. “Spare me from your bleeding heart, fool. I don’t care.” Suddenly, Magnus turned to face me where I knelt in the back of the wagon. “Besides, your stance has clearly changed. You’ve been gallivanting around with this cattle for some time now. I’ve no idea how you smuggled it into the city, wearing one of my collars.” He said, striding over to the wagon. In one smooth motion, Magnus jumped up onto the drivers bench that I was kneeling behind, in order to stare down at me. I flinched away from his stare, lowering my head in the way I’d learned to act as a slave. “Well, slave? How did my cretin of a cousin hide your presence in the most vehemently anti-slavery city in the Principality?”

I flicked my eyes up to meet his briefly, only to lower them again at the disdain I found there. I worked my mouth soundlessly for a moment, shaking my head. I didn’t know what to say.

He didn’t like that.

In a movement faster than I could follow, Magnus darted a hand out and grabbed me by my hair. I cried out in pain as he lifted me effortlessly and dangled me off the side of the wagon, shaking me by my hair. “Answer me, maggot!” He barked.

I scrabbled at the arm holding me fruitlessly, barely able to think through the pain of my entire body weight being held up only by my hair. “I don’t know! I don’t know!” I cried out.

“Magnus!” I heard Azarus bellow off to my right. “Put him down!”

Magnus looked over his shoulder and sneered. “Well, if you insist.” With a heave, Magnus swung me around and tossed me as if I was a sack. I flew through the air, flailing in panic, only to crunch into the dirt at Azarus’s feet on my left side. The impact stunned me, driving all the air out of my lungs. I felt large hands on my shoulders that then rolled me onto my back. Above me Azarus was trying to say something with a worried look on his face, but my ears were ringing too loud to understand him. Azarus looked to my left side and grimaced. Sluggishly, I swiveled my head to follow his gaze and saw my left arm.

Oh.

That was a bone.

The fall onto my left side must have badly broken my upper left arm about midway down. Underneath my arm, I could see a grey protrusion of stone sticking up out of the earth. I had landed right on it. The bloody, broken end of my left humerus was poking through the skin in a gruesome manner. Suddenly, the pain of the break hit me all at once and I let out a strangled cry. Instinctively, I tried to grip my left arm with my right, only to flinch away at the heightened pain. I began to hyperventilate, my vision narrowing.

Abruptly, I felt hands grasp my head and drag my gaze up. Azarus met my gaze with grim determination. “Can you hear me?”

I stared at him blankly for a moment. Fighting through the pain, I shakily nodded at him.

“I need to set the arm,” Azarus told me soberly.

I felt animal panic grab hold of me at the thought and began to struggle weakly against his hold.

“Calm down. Calm down!” Azarus raised his voice, trying to fight through my panic. “I have a healing potion, and it’ll be over quick. It won’t heal the break completely, but it needs to be done or you’ll bleed out.”

In a haze of pain, I didn’t even register Azarus’s words for a moment. Finally, I registered what he had said. “O-okay.” I said, weakly.

Taking a deep breath, Azarus looked around for a moment. Reaching over, he grabbed a stick out of the dirt off to his right. “Bite down on this.” He told me grimly, putting the stick up to my mouth. “I’ll go on the count of one.”

Craning my neck up shakily, I bit down on the stick, dimly aware of the taste of dust in my mouth now. I nodded at him, barely able to focus.

Azarus nodded back at me and then reached down to grab my left shoulder with his left hand, and my arm with his right. His grasp sent a fresh new wave of pain through my body. The stick muffled my moan. “Alright.” He said ominously. “Three-”

Suddenly, in a brutal move, Azarus yanked on my arm below the break, hard. Then, he immediately shoved downwards on the bone protruding through my skin, causing it to slip back inside. The entire time, I was blinded by excruciating pain, nearly blacking out. Through a haze, I felt a hand grab the stick out of my mouth and shove a bottle up against my lips. I was barely aware of this, so I couldn’t make myself drink it. I felt my head being tilted backward, and then a cool liquid poured down my throat.

I laid there, insensate for a while. Gradually, I became aware the pain was starting to dull. Where before it was agonizing, easily the worst pain of my life, it slowly became bearable. But it didn’t completely go away. My arm was still on fire, it just wasn’t screaming at me like before. I opened my eyes, unaware that I’d closed them in the first place, to find Azarus hovering over me anxiously. I blinked slowly at him.

“How do you feel?” He asked me, concerned.

I tried to take a deep breath, only to break into a coughing fit. “I-” I started haltingly. “I don’t-”

“As touching as this whole scene has been.” I heard a sarcastic voice speak off to the side. “We’re not done here, cousin.”

Azarus’s face hovering about me own hardened. Slowly, he straightened up to face Magnus. I sluggishly turned my head to face him as well, still laying in the dirt.

“No,” Azarus said quietly, menacingly. “I think we are. We’re leaving.” He visibly dismissed Magnus, and turned back around to help me sit up. As I did, I let out a hiss of pain. My arm was still on fire, but it didn’t feel like it was still completely broken at least. Once I was on my feet, Azarus slung my right arm over his shoulder to support my weight. It was probably the only way I was going to be able to walk, with how weak I still felt.

“Don’t you dare…” I heard Magnus say behind us, in a rising tone. “TURN YOUR BACK ON ME! STOP HIM!”

Two of the armor-clad town guards stepped in front of us, their swords still barred from earlier. This time, those swords were raised directly toward us.

Azarus stopped, tensing up. All I could do was hang off his shoulder, a cold sweat rolling down my back. Slowly, Azarus turned the two of us to face Magnus again.

The look on his face chilled me. His aristocratic, dwarven features were twisted into a mad rictus of hate. He was baring his teeth at us like he was an animal, with a crazed glint in his gleaming golden eyes. “I am your LORD!” He howled at us. “That is my PROPERTY you are carrying!”

Azarus ignored him, cutting his eyes to take in the guards that had slowly surrounded us. They had encircled us, weapons barred. I could see him visibly weighing our, or rather his, odds against them. By the grim set to his face, they weren’t great. He cut his eyes back to Magnus. “What do you want.” He said stonily, more a statement than a question.

“What do I want, what do I want.” Magnus mocked, still sneering at us. “I want to not be sentenced to this pathetic backwater, with its backward peasants. Alas, I need to suffer this hovel for a while longer. So, I’ll need to manufacture my own entertainment. Do you care for this slave, cousin? Have you, perhaps, grown attached?” He said, a horrible smile stealing across his face.

Alarm was growing on Azarus’s face. “Magnus, don’t.” He said, almost pleadingly.

Judging by the glee in Magnus’s eyes, he didn’t care. Slowly, he lifted a hand to point directly in our direction. Specifically, at me. “Take him.” He commanded the guards. “It’s time for a hunt.”