Faust walked over to the slave, who was whining in pain but also had a shocked expression.
"Are they dead?" he asked, blood coming out of his mouth. He had heard the explosions, and now, seeing Faust bathed in blood, it wasn't hard to connect the dots.
"Depends. Do you have knowledge about this trial?"
The slave understood what Faust truly meant: "If you can give me information, then yes, they are dead. If not, then I kill you."
As a slave, he was already used to that type of thing. He could read between the lines.
"Y-yes… I do, but please help me."
His body was battered; he had been beaten to the point he couldn't stand, some of his teeth were broken, and he definitely had fractured bones.
Faust knew the slave wouldn't last much longer in that condition, so he threw one of the yellow stones to him. Unlike the others he had killed without a second thought, he had no reason to harm this one. The slave posed no threat… and if he had survived this long without any fighting ability, then he likely knew things Faust didn't.
"O-ohh! A sacred stone, thank you!"
The slave grabbed and broke it. A yellow light started to permeate his body as his wounds began to stabilize.
"So that yellow stone is actually called 'Sacred Stone,' noted."
Faust used the time the slave took to recover to scatter and hide more runes around. He also covered the traces of the detonations. The dirt had flown, opening some holes, but the wall made out of roots was apparently stronger than he thought—it showed no signs of being damaged.
The bodies were taken to the open area and thrown into a pile to the side.
Since he couldn't carry another man and stay on guard, he had to wait for the slave's recovery. He believed there was a low chance of someone actually appearing, judging by how loudly people had been chatting earlier without anyone intervening, that is, before Faust arrived.
He didn't want what had just happened to them to happen to him, but he had few options. He had already gone too long without information, and seeing how little he knew, continuing to step forward blindly wasn't bravery—it was foolishness.
And so, he sat on the ground and waited.
A few minutes later, the slave had recovered enough to talk, and thankfully, no one had approached them.
Faust stood up and walked over to him.
"So? What do you know?"
He asked, arms crossed as he waited for an answer.
"Sure, sure. You helped me, so now it's my turn. Well, what do you want to know?"
The slave's voice carried fear, but not nearly as much as before, like he was a different person now.
"First, what are these fruits, and why is everyone collecting them?"
Faust asked, holding one up and showing it.
"Wow, you don't even know the basics? Did your masters just bring you along for the first trial and you somehow survived until now?"
The slave's tone was laced with sarcasm, his voice with a tone bitter of fear. But then, his expression shifted, and he added,
"…Alright, since you're so eager to know, here it is: these fruits are called 'Soul Fruits.' Eat one, you pass the trial. Two, and you strengthen your soul. Three, and the effect doubles. Four, it doubles again. And so on. That's why people are holding off on eating them… they want to stack them up before taking a bite."
He paused, then continued, a slight smirk forming on his bruised face. "But they say you can't wait too long to eat them all if you've got more than one. Something about it not being good for you, or the effect being wasted if you don't take them in time. That's why they hold off, waiting to have enough, I guess."
He knows quite a lot for a slave... maybe he could come with me.
"I guess that makes sense. But what does strengthening the soul actually do? Answer that."
"To be honest, I'm not sure either. I heard some of the adventurers talking, but even they aren't sure. The higher-ranked people say it's good, so it must be. You should ask someone of your clan; they'll surely understand better than me."
The man in shackles looked puzzled the more he observed Faust but continued nonetheless.
"Ahem… If I could give you some advice, though, you should take someone with you to the third trial…"
"Why?"
"Hum… because… the third trial is hard to do alone."
"Why are you evading? Also, if you don't mind me asking, I'm pretty sure you passed the first trial. Why are you still shackled?"
"I'm not evading!" he shouted, eyes locked onto Faust. The puzzle pieces clicking into place in his mind were almost visible as he finally realized.
"Oh! You are the boy who passed with an intermediate score… I could ask you the same: why are you still wearing your shackles? I'm doing it for the same reason as you… I was lied to. Instead of freedom, they sent me here again as a sacrifice, heh... but if I survive this time, they promised to free me!"
Faust observed him with an intrigued look; he hadn't talked with someone this much for a long time.
"Why do you trust those who slaved you so eagerly? They lied once. Why wouldn't they lie again?"
Faust was trying to understand more about human nature, that was still one of his weakest aspects. He was too detached to truly feel what a normal human being would.
The slave looked up at him and gave a sad smile.
"Heh, what other choice do I have? Honestly? I'm still alive so I hope to one day be in a better situation, who knows. Living is tough but…"
The slave looked at the ground.
"Then why don't you kill yourself?"
Faust asked with a serious expression as he scratched his face.
The slave's eyes twitched as he slightly opened his mouth, before then letting out a breath, followed by a chuckle.
"Haha, you're a little direct, aren't you?" the slave continued to laugh in a sad tone. "To tell the truth, I don't know. Maybe I've lived too long, and now I just want to see it through to the end. You're young, so maybe you don't understand yet, but you will soon."
As Faust listened, a thought stirred in the depths of his mind… this unnatural, almost exaggerated clinginess to life. It was no different from greed; people were moved by it, conquered by it, enslaved by it.
But, in the end, that clinginess to life was just another natural aspect of humanity. Most would cling to it with bleeding nails and broken teeth, not out of love, but out of habit. As long as a body breathed, it clung to the illusion that things could improve or at the very least, that they would not worsen. Sometimes that illusion bore fruit, but more often, it rotted away, leaving only bitterness behind.
To live without reason, to pursue an existence stripped of meaning, to rot slowly in the absolute boredom of being—this was the true face of most lives. When one reaches that stage, they do not live; they merely persist. An empty cocoon drifting in the currents of time, hollow and echoing with forgotten dreams and past regrets. Yet even then, a small, stubborn flame clings to life inside.
They will smile. They will laugh. They will lie through their teeth and claim they are alive, because the truth is too heavy to bear. They persist, not because they wish to, but because death requires a kind of courage they no longer possess. 'Perhaps, just perhaps, things might get better. Or, at least, they think, it cannot get worse.'
But when even that last lie withers, when even the faintest ember of hope is extinguished—death is inevitable. When the will to move forward rots to nothing, a man dies long before his body falls.
Faust remained quiet for a long while. For some reason, he felt weirdly interested about that slave. What was the reason? Even himself didn't know the answer.
After several long seconds, he said:
"Hm… come with me."
The slave laughed and said, "Hah, alright, young man. But I'll need one of those…"
He pointed to a Soul Fruit.
"I still have more questions. Before I give it to you, answer them."
Faust asked a few more questions, mostly about the trials' contents.
Based on what the slave told him, they no longer needed to leave the trials—they could technically advance trial after trial until they reached the ninth and last trial. However, he wasn't sure about the contents after the fifth trial.
He also couldn't tell Faust what the purpose of soul strengthening was, or even what a soul truly was. His knowledge was basic, but still better than Faust's regarding the trials.
The third trial, the next one, involved speaking and working with a group—thus, most people had already formed parties by now to be ready. According to some adventurers the slave had overheard in the mountain camp, the third trial was often described as the easiest.
The fourth trial, on the other hand, was shrouded in mystery; everyone had reported different experiences with it, and no one truly knew what it was about.
From the fifth trial onward, knowledge was extremely scarce. Also, from what the slave knew, some had reached the ninth trial but none returned.
What intrigued Faust the most was how the slave had managed to get the Soul Fruits in the first place. According to him, a battle had broken out near a Soul Tree, and in the chaos, as people were killed, some fruits appeared. Seeing an opportunity, the slave said he had no reason not to try his luck. He stole two fruits and, by some miracle, escaped without being cut down by the adventurers. It seems his luck was absurdly great.
The slave also explained that the fruit wasn't simply eaten, it had to be absorbed. That was why it took time, and why people didn't just consume them on a whim to escape the trial.
He then made an offer: he could guide Faust to the location where the battle had broken out if Faust agreed to give him a Soul Fruit, maybe even go to the third trial with him.