Bound To The Silent Laborer's Bed

Chapter 3

Word Count: 736 | Released on: Today at 15:18

e dark. A heavy, throbbing ache that seemed to pulse in time

ushed herbs, dry dirt, and old smoke. She tried to shift her leg, but a stiff resistance stopped her. She looked do

ed to her, hunched over a wooden table. The man was grinding something in a sto

. The silent watcher fro

e, the bone-snapping fall. She should be dead. The re

d. Her voice sounded like gra

alm, utterly unreadable. He didn't answer. He picked up a chipped clay bowl filled with water and wal

ted. But the raw, burning thirst in her throat overrode her pride. She parted her lips, letting th

, maybe in his early twenties, but his eyes held a stillness

her voice gaining a

turned his back on her again

some semblance of control, some spark of her former power. She searched the void in her chest. Nothing. Just a dea

ascade of fragmented memories. The trial room. The cold

his face carved from marble. "Eve Salazar, your arrogance led to the

at happened in the snow, her mind hit a blank wall. She couldn't remember. She only remembered th

d, severing her connection to the

dden movement sent a bolt of white-hot agony through her broken

d the pestle and reached out, his hand movin

he snapped, her voi

ression unchanged. He turned away, opened a rickety cabinet, and pulled out a relatively cl

r body. He gently placed the damp

up at him, her breath coming in short, angry pants. She was entirely at his mercy

Chapter End

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Bound To The Silent Laborer's Bed

Luo Jiuyuan Fantasy

“I was the youngest Paladin in history, the absolute pride of the Azure Blade. But after a disastrous mission in the snow, I was falsely accused of slaughtering my own squad. Grand Master Bernardo Rowe didn't just exile me; he surgically severed my connection to the magic Aether, turning me into a crippled mortal. Desperate to survive, I tried to climb the Holy Stairs to reclaim my legendary sword, "Rebellion." Instead of answering my call, my own blade shrieked in absolute rejection and blasted me down the thousand stone steps. My bones snapped like dry twigs, and I was left in a pool of my own blood. The pilgrims laughed at me. The guards declared me a lost cause and left me to rot in the dirt. I should have died there, betrayed by the Order and the holy magic I once served. But a silent, massive laborer named Cato Sims dragged my mangled body into the shadows. He healed my shattered skeleton in mere days with impossible skill, yet he allowed lowly servants to spit on him and beat him just to keep my presence hidden. I didn't understand why my holy sword had abandoned me, and I understood even less why this stranger was protecting a condemned criminal. When I finally snapped and demanded to know his price for saving my life, he didn't ask for money or my body. "The mountain does not forget its debts. I am reclaiming what was taken from it." Staring into his unyielding eyes, I realized my exile wasn't the end, but the beginning of a terrifying truth.”