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Chapter 2: The Dream of Lakan and Panday

  The aftermath of the escape could be called a tragedy, but it was also a glimmer of hope for those who had successfully fled the war.

  Lakan, still groggy from sleep, felt his eyelids grow heavy as he forced them open, struggling to shake off the lingering haze. He slowly sat up and rubbed his temples.

  "What happened? Ugh, my head hurts..." he muttered to himself.

  Inside a makeshift tent made of twigs and leaves, Lakan slowly got to his feet.

  "You're awake! Are you alright?" Dalangpan asked as he entered the tent.

  Lakan’s eyes widened with worry. "What about my father? Is he safe?"

  Dalangpan averted his gaze. "He… he didn’t make it. Balagtas and Tumanod, too. They died protecting us when arrows rained down on our raft."

  Lakan took a deep breath, his eyes welling up with tears. He clenched his fists and steadied himself—he knew this was what his father would have wanted. A life of hardship awaited him after escaping the misery of slavery. Though still young, he understood the weight of their situation. From now on, the escapees would live in constant fear, pursued by those who sought to reclaim them.

  Outside the tent, the adults were deep in discussion, planning their next move to ensure their survival.

  "How are we going to survive from now on?" "What about the monsters? This is a forest—we’re bound to encounter them." "And the enemy? This is still their territory; we might run into them." "Is there even a way for us to make it?" "Shouldn’t we plan where to go? We need to find a place to hide." "Yeah. Tomorrow, we should set out and find somewhere safe—far from here."

  Fear clouded their judgment. They needed a leader—someone who could guide them and make decisions for the greater good.

  "We need to secure food before we leave. And how will we fend off monsters? And the baron’s forces? We need to be more prepared," Dalangpan said.

  "What we need is to escape this territory quickly. Can’t we deal with problems as they come?" another man argued.

  "If we move too fast, we won’t have time to hunt while they’re on our tail. We’ll just starve," Dalangpan replied.

  "Then let’s put some distance between us and them first. Once we’re safe, we can hunt."

  Hearing the commotion, Lakan stepped out of the tent and approached the adults. He raised his hand before speaking.

  "Uncle Dalangpan, that plan makes sense. I have a question—how long have we been stranded here? And how long was I unconscious after we landed?"

  Dalangpan thought for a moment before answering. "About one and a half days."

  Lakan furrowed his brows. "The Baron was never going to let us live, war or no war. We were never his slaves to begin with—we belonged to Viscount Beaufort. If war had broken out, he would’ve thrown us into battle. Now that it’s been postponed, he has even more reason to hunt us down before the Viscount learns what he did."

  Dalangpan frowned. "But what about food? We’ve only hunted two boars and three deer. How can we survive while being chased? And what about the monsters?"

  "We have no choice but to hunt while on the move," Lakan replied. "We might not catch much, but it’ll be enough to keep our strength up. As for the soldiers, they won’t enter this forest—it belongs to adventurers. And the monsters? We can fend them off. That’s what beastmen are good at. We were trained as hunters and used as bait for monsters. For now, that’s our only option. We should depart tonight."

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  A demonkin warrior named Baloga scoffed. "Are we really going to take orders from a child?"

  An orc elder and the eldest of the group named Ulganar stroked his beard and nodded. "But what he says makes sense. In my opinion, it’s our best course of action."

  "Elder Ulganar, you should lead us. Since Brother Panday has died, there is no one else capable of leading," a man suggested.

  Ulganar sighed, his weary eyes studying the boy before him. "You’re Lakan, right? Son of Panday?"

  Lakan hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yes, Elder," he replied, his voice steady yet uncertain. Then, furrowing his brows, he muttered under his breath, "Did I ever tell him my name? I’ve never met him before..."

  The orc elder let out a deep breath, his gaze heavy with the weight of experience. "Very well, I will take on the role of leader—but Lakan will be the one making the plans," he declared, his voice carrying both authority and resolve. "I will assess them and make the final decision. That is an order."

  As the murmurs of the gathered survivors faded, Ulganar turned away slightly, his expression darkening with thought. His voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible.

  "Panday, my friend… You spoke so highly of your son’s potential, but do you truly believe he can lead us?" His fingers tightened around the hilt of his staff. "Did you willingly throw your life away just to give us this one chance at freedom? If so, I will guide your son"

  Panday, despite being a slave, was no ordinary man—he was a warrior of legendary skill, his name whispered even among nobles and warlords. His strength, wisdom, and countless victories on the battlefield had earned him a grudging respect, even from those who enslaved him. It was this reputation that made the nobles listen when he spoke.

  The escape—the raft strategy—had been his plan from the very beginning. He had fought not just with his blade, but with his words, forcing the nobles to acknowledge the brilliance of his idea. He endured their skepticism, countered every doubt, and pressed on until they had no choice but to accept his proposal.

  With Ulganar’s approval, the remaining adults hesitated before slowly agreeing. Some nodded in unison, while others simply followed the majority.

  "Are you really going to accept my proposal, Elder?" Lakan asked.

  "Well, your idea is the most ideal, and they didn’t propose a better plan," Elder Ulganar said.

  Lakan was dumbfounded yet thankful at the same time. He was a dreamer at heart, willing to do whatever it took to achieve both his and his father's dream.

  "One last thing, Uncle Dalangpan—how many people are there from each race? And how many are adults?" Lakan asked.

  "I’ll start a headcount if you want," a dwarf girl named Thorgana volunteered.

  "Thank you! While we wait for the results, let’s move on to another topic," Lakan said.

  The meeting ended, though some remained doubtful of Lakan’s abilities due to his age. However, others acknowledged the logic of his plan, especially the orcs, who believed in Ulganar’s decision, seeing it as their best option.

  As the group dispersed, Elder Ulganar approached Lakan.

  "Boy, let’s talk," Ulganar said.

  "What do you want to talk about, Elder?" Lakan asked.

  "How did you come up with those ideas, young Panday?" Ulganar asked curiously.

  Lakan thought for a moment. "I just figured out the best solution given our situation."

  The elder chuckled. "Hah, you truly take after your father, Panday."

  Lakan lowered his gaze. "Do I? I can’t compare to him… He was a great warrior. That’s why he was respected."

  Ulganar nodded solemnly. "Indeed, he was. We spent thirty years imprisoned as slaves under Viscount Beaufort. Even past his prime, he was still sent to fight as a war slave."

  "My father was truly a great man," Lakan murmured. He clenched his fists with determination. "That’s why I will fulfill the promise I made to him."

  Ulganar raised an eyebrow. "And what promise is that?"

  Lakan took a deep breath. "I will end the suffering of the oppressed. I will free the innocent slaves and protect them from humans and elves."

  The elder let out a deep, rumbling laugh. "Hahaha… That is a grand dream indeed!"

  "Is it? Hehehe," Lakan said shyly.

  "Come here, boy. I shall bless you—to become a warrior, and to be a great one," Ulganar said.

  Lakan stepped forward and closed his eyes.

  Ulganar placed his hand on Lakan’s head and began to pray. "Oh, mighty Gorzhul… Guide this child along a warrior’s path. Bless his body with strength, grant him an unwavering spirit, and gift him a wise mind. Gorzhul, the Orc God, I pray you bestow your blessing upon this child."

  "Thank you, Elder," Lakan said gratefully.

  "I will pray for you to achieve your dream. Now, get some rest," Ulganar responded.

  As Ulganar left, he stumbled upon Dalangpan and spoke to him.

  "Dalangpan, guide and protect Panday’s child. He will grow to be a great leader—I can already see it in him. Some may accept him, but since he is still a child, many will oppose him. They only follow now because of their respect for me. You and your brothers were entrusted with guiding him, correct?"

  Dalangpan nodded. "Yes, Elder. I will do as you say. Despite his age, Lakan is wise."

  "Good. Now, I’ll take my leave," Ulganar said.

  As the sun dipped below the horizon, the tribe prepared for the night. A small feast was held—not a grand celebration, but enough to sustain them for the journey ahead.

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