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Rise of the Hegemon

From a miner to a supreme leader of a continental super power... this is the story of a former outcast named Carillus. Carillus is an ordinary 16 years old boy living an ordinary peaceful life in the United States.. Well, what would happen if said boy was mysteriously sent in a planet billions of light years away from Earth?... Stranded, lost, and above all else: alone, Carillus must learn to defend himself and adapt in this new lands ravaged by war, bloodshed, and deadly intrigue. Watch as he creates allies and enemies along the way, battle the elements thrown at him by this unforgiving world, and lastly, trades his sanity and innocence in exchange for survival and... path to power.

Tabs_Kebriel · 奇幻
分數不夠
31 Chs

Cloaks

Passing what appeared to be another group of armed miners, me and the old miner continued on our way, not even bothering to risk an eye contact.

When they were finally far enough, the old miner suddenly spins and spat on the ground below, halting me on my tracks.

I stared at him, a scowl plastered on his face.

"Cloaks" He suddenly said.

What?

Cloaks?... what the hell is that?

I rose my brows in confusion, hoping he'll understand my message.

As if in direct response to the questions swirling in my mind, he pointed his finger towards my back. Curious, I shifted my gaze and fixed my eyes on the diminishing silhouettes of the unarmed miners, their figures receding as they moved in a direction opposite from our own.

Is that what they're called? this brutal group of armed miners who thinks they're the guardians and restorer of order in this place?

"Cloaks.. is that what they're called?" I asked him.

"Yes, Cloaks" he pause before pursing his lips, seemingly in deep thoughts, "dogs" He added with a nod.

Cloaks.. dogs?

Shaking my head with a sigh, I began to wonder the things I have seen after arriving in this quarry.

This cloaks or whatever they are.. they're no different from the guards outside the mining area, maybe these two groups are working with each other? maybe they're just a gang of miners with their own agendas?

I guess I won't know until I find out...

With a sigh, I stare at the old miner in front of him, but just as I was about to remind him of continuing our way, he brought his hand up before pointing it to his chest.

"Gulfram" He said with a smile.

Realizing what he was trying to do, I didn't hesitate in introducing myself.

"Carillus, nice to know you." I introduced myself.

He offered his hand and I didn't hesitate in shaking it, feeling his rough and calloused hands tightly grip mine, I couldn't help but slightly flinch at the pain, my heart also beating nervously at the same time.

Is this his way of convincing people that he's an authority to be respected and... feared?

Well I admit.. it's damn effective.

After a few seconds, he let go of my hand and we resumed on our way as if everything had gone back to normal. Then again, was everything normal to begin with?

Finally, another few minutes of traversing in this crowded and maze-like environment, me and Gulfram finally finds ourselves in front of a small building, but this structure is different from the rest, not only is it made out of stones and bricks, there's also a group of miners hanging out outside, a few of them even playing what seemed like a card-game.

Upon noticing our arrival, all of them stood up with smiles on their faces and began exchanging words with Gulfram, I caught a few glances and pointed fingers aimed in my direction. I also then heard him mentioning my name twice or thrice.. It seems he's trying to introduce me to them, nonetheless, it appeared that none of them had any concerns about my being here.

After they were done talking, Gulfram then began to lead me inside the building as few miners watch me with curiosity as I pass by them.

The sound of creaking doors filled my ears as I finally entered the building alongside Gulfram. The scent of metal and oil quickly enveloped my nose, and my eyes began to wander. From the pickaxe-filled racks flanking each side of the room, they traveled downward to the cobblestoned floor below before settling on a small desk in the far corner, where a miner was seated.

The two men greeted each other before Gulfram led me closer towards him, now that I'm close, I finally got a good look on this miner's face.

He appeared to be in his fifties, bald with a short beard, sporting an average face. However, the most striking aspect of his features was the small scar that stretched across his right eye, leaving behind nothing but a vacant gray within his gaze.

"Carillus" I took the initiative in introducing myself first, offering my hand to shake. The surprised and amused look on Gulfram's face didn't also go unnoticed.

This miner however, didn't hesitate in shaking my hand before offering me a very gentle smile... "Roslik" he responded with a grin.

After our introduction was over, Gulfram said something to Roslik. And just like that, I once again find myself witnessing a conversation between two people, a conversation I wished I could understand or even join in if it wasn't for this fucking language barrier.

This is fucking tiring and frustrating...

After a minute, their conversation finally ceased before Gulfram turned his direction towards me.

"Pickaxe?" He asked, seemingly pointing out towards the pickaxe he had given to me earlier.

Now that he mentioned it.. I think I must have left it along the way, probably in the area where I stood when that accident happened.

Should I tell them? or should I just keep quiet?

So much for becoming stronger if I even failed myself to give a good impression on them.

"I lost it on my way here-" Before I could finish, Gulfram was already back at the door again, a tinge of annoyance plastered on his face.

What the fuck's with these old guys? It's just a goddamn pickaxe!

After that, he finally stepped outside, barking a few words to the miners outside as he left.

I could only hope he's not going to get himself in some kind of trouble just because of my carelessness. The sense of guilt and conscience are now growing within.

I heard a sigh from Roslik, a sad smile on his face.

"Do you speak En... Saragonian?" I ask as I turn to face him.

He nodded his head before responding, "Little, like Gulfram."

Hell yeah!

The more I befriend people who could speak Saragonian, the more people I could interact and share my thoughts with, not to mention the more fast I could learn Artanian with their help.

"Cool!" I paused, took a small breath before continuing, "Look, I know I made a mistake.. and I admit it was entirely my fault." When I saw he was intently listening with his remaining left eye, I continued, "But why would he go out there personally just because of a pickaxe, surely there must be someone he could send other than himself?"

It took Roslik an entire minute to take in or understand what I've just said before finally showing his reaction in the matter.

"pickaxe lost? means pickaxe use kill someone, warden angry, warden trace pickaxe, cloaks come harm." He explained, confusion plastered on his face.

Though his words came out in a jumbled mess, I could still understand the message he was trying to convey.

But tracing it back?

Surely they doesn't have the technology...

My eyes landed on a pickaxe sitting on a rack in a nearby wall, a pattern of symbols clearly visible on it's handle.

Fuck...

There's also the fact that murder and killing might be in common in here, just the fact of living in a place where humans kill another humans is just so fucking.. sickening.

More reason to make myself stronger, if the time comes when I'll be needing such skills to keep myself alive...

I'll just hope it never comes to that.

"I see.. thanks." I responded, scratching my head as I waited for Gulfram to return.

"Wait.." Roslik caught my attention again, "Gulframn tell me, Carillus give pickaxe." He admitted, and just like that, Roslik suddenly steps out from his desk and began to make his way towards a nearby rack.

I see, a replacement I guess.

He retrieved a smaller pickaxe, one measuring just half a meter in length and notably thinner than the one I had been given earlier.

Taking a brief moment to inspect it, Roslik approached me and then handed over the pickaxe. As I received the new tool using my free right arm, I noticed that while it was still weighty, it felt noticeably more lighter compared to the one I had before.

I tested it with a few swings, and upon realizing that I could wield it without risking an inadvertent tumble, I offered him an affirmative nod.

Roslik nodded in return before going back to his desk.

And just like that, we spent the next few minutes idling around the room until Gulfram finally showed himself, carrying the pickaxe that I had lost earlier.

Though he didn't said anything, I could still feel his disappointment over my actions.

Setting the pickaxe down onto the desk, Gulfram shifted his attention to me. His gaze moved between my newly acquired, lighter pickaxe and my injured arm. After a brief pause, he let out a sigh and then rested a hand on my shoulder.

"Work time.." He said, a defeated expression on his face.

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CHAPTER DONE!!