Dawn broke over Kharadun with the color of old bruises—sickly yellow light filtering through the perpetual haze left by the Void Eclipse. The red crescent moon still hung low in the sky, its black tendrils thicker than the night before.
Kaiser woke to the rattle of chains and the sharp sting of a boot in his ribs.
"Up, thrall! Graves won't dig themselves."
The same burly guard from last night—Kaiser mentally named him Scarjaw—stood over him, whip coiled at his belt. Two other guards waited outside the cramped stone cell that smelled of mildew and old piss. Five other thralls shared the space, all of them hollow-eyed and silent.
Kaiser pushed himself up slowly. Every muscle screamed. New cuts from the battle had scabbed over awkwardly during the few hours of fitful sleep, and the manacles around his wrists had rubbed raw rings into his skin. His back burned where the whip had landed yesterday.
He kept his expression neutral. Showing pain only invited more of it.
They were marched out into the fortress courtyard under armed escort. The air was thick with the stench of death—monster corpses were being dragged away by teams of thralls, their black ichor leaving corrosive trails on the ground. Imperial soldiers in cleaner armor watched from elevated platforms, crossbows ready.
Scarjaw shoved a rusted shovel into Kaiser's hands.
"Main burial pit, east side. Dig deep enough that the Void rot doesn't spit the bodies back up. You slack, you join them. Move!"
The work was back-breaking.
The ground was hard-packed clay mixed with shattered rock from old battles. Kaiser's shoulders protested with every swing of the shovel. Blisters formed and burst on his palms within the first hour. Sweat stung his eyes and mixed with the grime covering his body.
Around him, the other thralls worked in grim silence. One—an older man with a missing ear—muttered under his breath as he dug.
"Another tide like last night… we'll all be in these pits soon enough."
Kaiser kept his voice low while driving the shovel in. "How often do they come?"
The man glanced at the nearest guard before answering. "Every few weeks now. Used to be months. The Eclipse is worsening. They say the princess herself came because the border's about to break."
Princess Lirael.
Kaiser's grip tightened on the shovel at the memory of silver-white hair and golden magic flaring in the darkness. The System had called her a Fated Woman. Fragment Holder of the First Seal.
He needed to learn more—about her, about this world, about the bonds he was forced to forge.
As the sun climbed, the labor grew harsher. Guards patrolled the line, handing out casual lashes for anyone who slowed. One young thrall, no older than seventeen, collapsed from exhaustion. Scarjaw kicked him twice before dragging him aside.
"Useless. Throw him in with the monsters later."
Kaiser's jaw clenched. He wanted to speak up, but survival came first. He couldn't afford heroic stupidity yet. Not while chained and powerless.
Instead, he focused inward on the Warborn System.
A translucent panel appeared at the edge of his vision whenever he concentrated.
[Current Status]
Host: Kaiser (War Thrall #4472)
Warborn Bloodline: Dormant (0.7% Awakened)
Bond Count: 0
Affection Points: 5/1000 (Lirael Voss – Distant Observation)
Survival Probability: 11% → 9% (Physical deterioration)
[New Notification]
Daily Quest: Complete 8 hours of forced labor without collapsing.
Reward: Minor Stamina Recovery + 10 Affection Points (if observed by a Fated Woman)
Failure: Increased punishment + 5% survival drop
Kaiser exhaled through his nose. The System wasn't kind. It demanded genuine bonds, not cheap tricks. Affection points only seemed to tick up through real interactions or meaningful moments.
He dug harder.
By midday, his hands were bloody. The pit was waist-deep now, a mass grave for last night's dead—both human and monster. The smell was nauseating. Flies swarmed. Somewhere nearby, the bodies of fallen thralls were being tossed in without ceremony.
A commotion rose near the main gate.
Imperial soldiers snapped to attention. A small procession entered the courtyard: a dozen elite guards in silver-trimmed armor, and at their center—her.
Princess Lirael Voss.
She had changed out of her battle armor into more formal attire—a deep crimson cloak over practical riding leathers, the imperial crest (a golden sun pierced by a black crescent) embroidered on her chest. Her silver-white hair was braided with delicate gold threads, falling to her mid-back. Even from across the courtyard, her presence commanded the space. She looked young—perhaps twenty-one or twenty-two—but her eyes held the weight of someone who had already seen too much war.
She was speaking quietly with the fortress commander, a grizzled man with a missing eye. Her voice carried on the wind in fragments.
"…reinforcements delayed… monitor the seal fragment… if the border falls…"
Kaiser kept digging, but his gaze flicked toward her every few seconds. The System reacted immediately.
[Fated Woman in Proximity]
[Lirael Voss – Current Affection: Curious (slight interest sparked by last night's battle)
+3 Affection Points for surviving the night with notable combat contribution
Current Total: 8/1000
She hadn't noticed him specifically— he was just one dirty, chained thrall among dozens. But as her group passed closer to the burial pit, her eyes swept the workers. For a heartbeat, her gaze lingered on the fresh scars and the determined set of Kaiser's shoulders.
Their eyes met.
Hers were a striking violet, sharp and intelligent, with a hint of something colder beneath— the look of someone who had learned early that trust was a luxury.
Kaiser didn't look away. He held the contact for two full seconds, letting her see the fire still burning behind the exhaustion and grime.
Then he deliberately went back to digging, muscles straining, as if the brief glance meant nothing.
Lirael's brow furrowed slightly. She murmured something to her aide and continued walking, but her posture had shifted—just a fraction more alert.
Scarjaw noticed the exchange and growled, cracking his whip near Kaiser's feet.
"Eyes on the dirt, thrall! You don't get to look at royalty!"
The lash came down across Kaiser's back—harder this time. Pain exploded, hot and bright. He staggered but didn't fall, biting back a grunt.
Lirael paused mid-step. She turned her head slightly, watching the guard with clear disapproval flickering across her elegant features.
The commander beside her muttered, "Just thralls, Your Highness. Necessary for the wall work."
She said nothing, but the temperature around her seemed to drop a degree. Golden motes of magic briefly flickered at her fingertips before she quelled them.
Kaiser tasted blood where he had bitten his tongue. The pain was brutal, but the System chimed again.
[Observed by Fated Woman during punishment]
+7 Affection Points (spark of empathy / sense of injustice)
Current Total: 15/1000
A small, grim smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he straightened and drove the shovel back into the earth with renewed force.
Good. Let her see the cruelty here. Let her remember the face of the thrall who didn't break.
The rest of the day passed in a haze of pain and labor. By sunset, the pit was finished. Kaiser's body felt like it had been run over by a truck—twice. He was given a thin gruel for dinner and thrown back into the cell with the other thralls.
As darkness fell and the red moon rose again, he lay on the cold stone floor, staring at the sliver of sky visible through the high barred window.
Fifteen affection points.
It was pathetic. Laughably small.
But it was progress.
He whispered into the darkness, voice barely audible.
"I'm coming for you, Princess. Not with chains… but with something real. Something you'll crave as much as I do."
The System panel glowed faintly.
[Warborn Bloodline Awakening Progress: 1.2%]
Survival Probability: 14%
Kaiser closed his eyes, letting exhaustion pull him under.
Tomorrow would bring more pain.