Blood Legacy: New World Of Doom

Gasp!

Danchun jolted awake in a large wooden building, but a subdued darkness greeted her. It took several seconds for her retinas to adjust to the dim light.

It seemed they were underground in a tunnel intentionally enlarged and consolidated to provide a man-made cave large enough to build a small village. The only source of light came from a few rare torches and some holes puncturing the ceiling to let in the sunlight.

After getting up so abruptly, her vision blurred and she felt a slight dizziness coupled with a pounding headache.

'Have I been drugged?' She wondered as she furrowed her delicate brows.

Having already produced a Spark to convert the oxygen and nutrients she consumed into Spirit Qi, she had already restarted her cultivation the day before, but the improvement was negligible. For the moment, her body was as feeble as when she arrived in this world.

However, thanks to her status as a combat instructor to Ikaris and Malia, she was entitled to the best Rank 4 Meat the village had to offer, and her Vitality enjoyed a +10 which allowed her to metabolize all kinds of toxins quickly. She made a quick calculation and estimated that the other captured villagers would not wake up for several hours.

Calmly, she observed her surroundings and determined that she was currently in a cage with iron bars. The cage measured about two meters by two meters, and the dancer quickly noticed that she was not alone in it. Ling and two other passed-out villagers from Last Saint Village were trapped inside with her.

Looking around vigilantly, the young woman noticed that there were at least a dozen cages lined up against hers, and each of these cages contained three to five prisoners of disparate humanoid races. There were of course Last Saint village women, but also beast women, some elves, dwarves, goblins, pixies and other less common species sleeping soundly.

What they all had in common was that they were always relatively young women of childbearing age. As optimistic as Danchun wanted to be, she knew the nature of men, whether human or of another species, and she concluded that the fact that nothing had happened to them yet was not necessarily good news.

Studying the face of each prisoner she finally met the clear eyes of another awake prisoner.

She was a 16 or 17 year old girl with curly brown hair, slim with a narrow waist and slender arms. She was wearing a short-sleeved summer dress in fir green with floral patterns ranging from orange to brown. She had hardly any curves, but her pale skin appeared to be covered in glitter, giving her an alluring, otherworldly quality.

Beyond her peculiar skin, what made her stand out was her fluorescent green eyes glowing faintly in the dim atmosphere and the atrophied membranous and translucent wings that were tucked behind her back.

A Fae. A type of Fairy.

Danchun wanted to ask her a first question, but the girl shushed her as she put her index finger over her mouth. The dancer understood the message and swallowed her words.

The Fae then aimed her gaze in a certain direction and following it Danchun finally noticed the drowsy guard lying on the ground. He was an old lycan with greying fur and questionable hygiene, so famished that one could legitimately wonder when his last meal was.

The reason she hadn't noticed him earlier was that he was hidden by the twilight, but more importantly, the way he was lying curled up in a ball could easily be mistaken for a rug.

At that moment, the Fae mouthed a few words without much hope, but it was without counting on the vast experience of Danchun. She was quick to read her lips.

"Where are you from? My name is Plume Treeglow. I'm from Laepadu, in the Emerald Fields."

Danchun feigned indifference, not knowing if she could trust this young girl, but to get more information she mouthed back,

"Last Saint Village. Cutthroat Island. You can call me Danchun."

Plume was taken aback by her village name because it didn't ring a bell. As for Cutthroat Island, it was even more vague considering the size of the peninsula. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack.

Thinking that this human didn't trust her, the Fae didn't take offense and said carefully,

"If I help you escape, are you confident you can get reinforcements?"

Danchun did not answer immediately, becoming wary instead.

"If you can help me escape, why don't you run away by yourself instead?" She rightly retorted. "It makes no sense."

Plume put on a frustrated face and showed her wrists, neck and ankles. Unlike the other female prisoners who were caged but free to move, the young Fae was cuffed and forced to wear a metal collar covered with mysterious runic inscriptions.

"Because they know I'm a Fae and a Sorcerer...' She finally explained. 'Anyway, Laepadu is too far from here... Even if I escaped, they'd recapture me long before then."

"And what makes you think I'll have better luck than you? Why me and not another prisoner?" Danchun continued to be wary, even though inwardly she was already willing to take that risk.

When Plume was about to answer her, they heard footsteps and guttural grunts approaching in their direction and in panic the Fae whispered,

"Play dead and hide your face."

Danchun took her warning very seriously and too bad for the other villagers locked up with her, she lifted one of them and lay down underneath her. Without being advised by the Fae, she picked up a handful of wet dirt and spread it over her face, arms, legs and tunic to make herself as filthy and repulsive as possible.

A few seconds later, the huge Werewolf who had ordered the raid on Last Saint village came into the kennel with two other lycans. They had already reverted to their human forms and right now they were just three well-built dark-haired men with above-average hairiness.

Their leader could even be considered handsome if one had a fetish for hyper masculinity. Most women didn't have such a heavy taste.

To further enhance their caveman aura, the three lycans wore only a loincloth and a fur cape draped over their shoulders to avoid tearing their clothes every time they transformed. Their hair was long, messy and unkempt, a reflection of their bestiality.

Halting in front of the cages, the man in the center sniffed the air, then walked over to Danchun's cage. He scrutinized the female prisoners closely, even studying their heart and breathing rates, but he found nothing out of place except for that intoxicating scent.

Not finding what he was hoping to find, the Werewolf inspected the other cages, then with jaded indifference singled out two rather pretty prisoners, an elf in her thirties and a human barely of age.

"Her and her. Wash them, perfume them and give them food. Then bring them to the emissary."

The Werewolf did not sound happy to give these orders, but these were the instructions he had received. Before leaving, he glanced sympathetically at Plume and sighed,

"Don't take it personally. We're all doing what we can to survive in this cursed land."

The young Fae snorted but did not contradict him. She watched them coldly walk away with the two fainting prisoners not yet aware of the doom that awaited them. All along, the old sleeping guard who was supposed to be watching them had not woken up once and none of the three lycans had taken offense.

Once the three warriors were well away, Danchun stopped pretending and stood up to say with a straight face,

"Okay, I'm in. Tell me what I have to do to sneak out of here."

Plume suddenly broke into a radiant smile. She fidgeted with her fingers and a clay key popped up in her hand that looked very much like the lock on their cages.

"I thought this collar and cuffs neutralized your magic?" Danchun arched a brow, her suspicions returning with a vengeance.

"Hehe, almost." She smiled coyly. "It took me three days to craft this key by hand. Once I get you out of your cage, I'll cover you with my Fae powder to hide your scent, but the real obstacle comes after that."

The former Cultivator stiffened as she realized the reason. It was almost evening already.

"If you're bringing this up to me, then you have a solution to this problem, don't you?" Danchun urged her.

"Indeed... But I warn you in advance, it will be painful. Only Faulch's runes can fool the Black Fog. Without a brush or magic I know only one way to draw them, but even with these precautions it won't be safe. That's why I asked you if your village was far from here. If it's more than an hour's walk away, forget I said anything."

The dancer froze. Plume's solution was to scarify her alive by carving these inscriptions directly onto her flesh.

"How long have I been here?" Danchun then inquired sharply.

"A little before noon I think..." The Fae answered honestly.

"Then let's do it. I'll break out of this jail and come back with reinforcements."