The next five days passed faster than Alexander ever anticipated.
In that time, Alexander had learned what it meant to have nothing. No name. No food unless earned. No comfort beyond cold stone and thinner sleep.
The illusion still held, barely. The glamour cast by the sacrifice lady muted their features, kept them just ragged enough to blend. But glamour could not dull pain.
Alexander worked in silence. His wounds were healing. The recycled essence in his body had stabilized his vitals, but the pain lingered. Every step tugged on his healing muscles. Every swing of the pickaxe was a lesson in humility.
"The gorge runs deeper than it looks…
Each morning, if it could be called morning in a place without the sun".
Bells rang from the watchtowers. Slaves scrambled from their dens, rough-dug hovels stacked on layers of scaffolding like nests of vermin. Work was demanded immediately.
Tunnels stretched in all directions, carved with blunt tools and bleeding hands. Ash fell like snow. Every breath tasted of soot and metal.
Alexander raised his head and stared coldly at the red men drinking leisurely on the watchtowers, his thoughts as silent as his voice.
"The guards only watch from above, their crimson armor stained with rust and dried blood. They didn't speak unless issuing orders. When they cracked their whips, it wasn't for discipline. It was a routine ritual.
We, the slaves, have our own system.
There were no leaders, not officially. But influence spread like mold. Power here isn't about strength. It was about favor.
Favor was bought with output, the amount of stone ore mined each week. The top ten slave groups in each pit were granted minor privileges: extra food rations, cleaner water, access to pain killers. A place closer to the inner wall, away from the cold tunnels where death was common.
It created competition. vicious rivalry among the desperate men. Fights broke out often, rarely stopped. The guards enjoyed the show and gambled on the life of folks here".
Alexander could finally say he had experienced it all, some slaves created broken alliances. But they never really last long, the system the guards have created is too flawless, cooperation can only be done to further damn one another.
The sacrifice lady stayed near, never calling attention to them, never breaking character. To the others, she was just another hollow-eyed girl, brittle and forgettable.
But in private moments, within the cold caves they nestled in, she became something else.
"Will and flow is the root of essence," she said to Alexander, her voice echoing through the cave.
She sat cross-legged, bags under her eyes, she rested her back on the cold walls, clearly exhausted from the long day.
She had several whip marks on her neck stretching far across her back, she held a dried bread, the only food portion they could get, with both their contribution points combined.
The bread was only a single slice, and tasted like a soaked mattress, although it felt like a rock. "How does that combo even make any sense, it clearly went against all the laws of power". She thought inwardly.
"Think of will as the core of your soul, and that core is what generates your soul sea, like a natural spring, your core will be the source of the water, which in this case will be your essence… If you can will your essence out of your core, then you've already stepped onto the part of being a sorcerer… or pathseeker as you called it…
Although from your descriptions, a Pathseeker seems more like a warrior than a sorcerer, but they both follow the same path, so my knowledge should be helpful to you regardless of what you end up as".
Alexander listened attentively, he never got any formal education in the real world, he realised how valuable this opportunity was to someone like him, and he savoured every lesson.
"What about the channeling process, the books I read always mention how valuable each unique process was to a seeker?". Alexander asked respectfully.
The sacrifice lady chewed, but after failing to break through the bread, she swallowed begrudgingly.
"The channeling techniques are useful indeed, some even say they determine how far and fast a sorcerer can grow. Come to think of it, the channeling technique you've been replicating from me is called the Tyrannical Saint Devil Technique …
The technique's raw aggression helps me make up for my soft and gentle fighting style, I am mostly proficient in illusion and deception after all".
Alexander's head slightly tilted to the side, what does she mean by gentle fighting style.
"Hmm. What's wrong?". She asked, seeing the slack jawed expression on his face.
"I saw you cut through dozens of trained men with swordsmanship and little spells… what do you mean by you are proficient in illusions… except if what I saw was the illusion".
The sacrifice lady smiled smugly. "No you saw right, I know my way around the sword, heck. Apart from that brat Maedros, I can confidently say that I am the best swordmaster around".
Alexander was rendered speechless. "The monarch known as Maedros, the hollow tongue is recognised as the most dangerous of the monarchs, his also recognised as the greatest swordmaster that had ever lived… and yet here is this forsaken princess, claiming to be second only to him, come to think of it. Just who is she anyway. She never introduced herself… not like I did as well…
Does she suspect I gave her a fake name?".
"You can continue using the Tyrannical Saint Devil Technique, but that would make me your Master, I did create it myself after all".
Alexander's mind returned to reality. "You're willing to have me as a disciple?".
The sacrifice lady was taken aback, she was sure Alexander would refuse. After all, that will further tie their fates together.
If he left, the queen wouldn't bother with him, but she was different. A princess condemned to death, there was only one path laid out for her, and that was to fight to the death.
"You do realise the situation I'm in, right Alex?".
Alexander nodded lightly, he wasn't the type to back away from a fair fight, and becoming her disciple will make every battle his in fair, at least give him a fighting chance.
What she was giving him was a chance for growth. Something he's never been given before, Alexander doesn't care if she was hated by the entire world, condemned by all the monarchs or even the devil, his more than willing.
"Yes, I do… so please accept me Master".