A Theory on Godhood: An Overlord Story

Chapter 44: Bloodletting

Drummesburg, close to midnight

Anderson stood guard that night, up on the village wall and watching outwards into the darkness. He yawned, sleepiness creeping its way into his awareness. He should've been asleep hours ago, but, through an unfortunate luck of the draw, he was picked to replace Henderson for the midnight shift.

It wasn't so bad, as he was able to enjoy the crisp air, but his annoyance came from the complete randomness of being chosen to take on the night watch.

Nothing would placate him more than a belly full of mead and some good rest and, given he was only chosen to do tonight, he could enjoy such pleasures for the rest of the week. All that stood between him and his reward was this insufferably long and boring night watch.

"I wonder what the others are up to," he muttered to himself, absent-mindedly scratching his belly. He lazily leaned his spear against himself, allowing his thoughts to wander and recall what exactly led him to tonight.

From the beginning, he was told he was expendable, not in that his life was worthless, though he very much believed it was to his higher-ups, but in that he was to be replaced by some other poor lad in desperate need of some coin.

He didn't know all the details, but he knew that the camp he was stationed in, Drummesburg, was meant solely as a holding ground for the "servants" that would one-day serve the nobility of Re-Estize.

To call the poor souls "servants" was a nicety he required to sleep better at night. True, they were maintained enough that they were not decrepit and useless by the time they were "trained" to reach their future masters, but neither were they subject to the privileges afforded to basic human beings.

Slaves. Slaves would be a better term, though Princess Renner's attempts to outlaw the practice were well underway, so camps like Drummesburg had to be kept hidden by his employers. It was a precaution, meant to secure their business.

Lower rank and file like himself were not allowed to see the slaves as they were kept in the mud pits near the center of the camp, but he'd heard more than enough from them over his tenure working at Drummesburg to last him several lifetimes.

Rumors spread amongst his co-workers as to the identity of his employers. They all knew that some nobility had to be involved, since a massive amount of coin was needed to bring in a steady stock of slaves stolen from their villages, but there were suspicions that other groups were involved in order to acquire said slaves.

Whispers of shadowy organizations were prevalent, who secretly controlled larger villages to grow illegal crops used in the making of Black Dust, and to scout out potential slaves to be kidnapped and sold off to the highest bidder. Anderson never bothered listening beyond that, merely wishing to get on with his shift and make as much as he could before returning home.

Sometimes, pangs of guilt at the plight of the people detained in the camp tore at him, only to be muffled by an apathy built up over years and years of this kind of work. Him merely being a guard at Drummesburg was simply the latest in a long line of shady but profitable business.

Off in the distance, he could see a small, red light burst into existence, a pair of them actually. They were not so bright that they lit up everything in front of them, but focused and intense enough to be noticeable.

If he had to guess, it was likely about a hundred meters out. He squinted his eyes, before remembering he had a lantern placed next to his feet since he was standing there on the camp wall.

Anderson picked it up, quickly igniting the oil so that he could have a better view of the strange phenomenon. It was held up to his chest level, readjusting his spear to have a better grip on it.