Elegy from Another World

Time slipped by in the dim light and numbness, it was hard to tell exactly how much time had passed. Then, heavy footsteps sounded again, and a man with fierce eyes and a burly aura walked over, surrounded by a group of bandits—presumably the leader. He sized me up through the cage, his gaze sweeping over me like an appraiser of merchandise, before finally ordering the guard beside him, "This one's alright, don't ruin her. Move her to the hideout, give her a good 'training,' teach her some manners, and she'll fetch a good price."

"Yes, boss!"

My heart sank. "Hidden hideout," "treatment," "selling for money"—these words confirmed my worst suspicions. Before I could think any further, a rag soaked in anesthetic was pressed against my mouth and nose. The familiar dizziness returned, and my consciousness quickly sank into darkness.

……

I don't know how much time passed before I slowly awoke to a jolt and a chill. I found myself in an even darker, damp cave or cellar, the air thick with the smells of mold and blood. The magic-sealing chains binding me were still cold and heavy. This was their so-called "safe haven."

Next came the so-called "training." It was nothing more than coercion and enticement to make me obedient and learn to please potential future "buyers." Although I was burning with rage and wanted nothing more than to tear them to pieces with my water blade, I knew that before the magic-suppressing chains were lifted, any resistance would be futile and would only invite more cruel treatment. I forcibly suppressed all my emotions, appearing both fearful and submissive. I mechanically did whatever they told me to do, putting on a show to avoid giving them any excuse to torture me further.

After some commotion, perhaps feeling that the initial "taming" had been effective, I was thrown back into my cell—a cage surrounded by thick wooden stakes in a corner of a cave. The chains were fastened again, and the bandits left cursing, seemingly to go drink or rest.

The cell fell silent for a moment. I carefully observed my surroundings and found that there seemed to be no fixed guards in this cell area. It seemed that they had absolute confidence in the magic-suppressing chains on me and believed that I, stripped of my magic, had no chance of escape.

The cell was rudimentary; dry branches covered the floor as makeshift beds, and several old, worn-out sacks, seemingly used to hold people, lay scattered in the corner, emitting a foul odor. In the cell opposite mine, I could vaguely see a dark figure huddled in a corner.

"Feed?" I called tentatively in a low voice, "Are you alright?"

There was no response. The dark figure remained motionless. I squinted, using the faint light filtering through the crack in the hole to examine it closely, and my heart tightened—the person had wrapped a chain around their own neck, their body twitching slightly, as if trying to strangle themselves!

"Stop!" I panicked, not caring if it would attract attention, and grabbed a branch spread on the ground, throwing it at the other side. The branch was too light and had little effect. I then found a small stone and threw it with all my might.

"Thud!" The stone hit the wooden stake on the other side, bounced, and hit the person.

She seemed startled by the sudden impact, her movements of wrapping her arms around her neck paused for a moment, and she let out a weak groan of pain.

"Wake up! Don't do anything stupid!" I continued to whisper, picking up another stone and throwing it at her, this time aiming at the open space next to her to make a louder noise.

After several attempts, she finally loosened the chains, coughed violently, and looked up at me in a daze.

"Who...who are you?" Her voice was hoarse and weak.

"Just like you, someone who was captured," I quickly said. "Why are you so desperate? If you die, you'll have nothing left!"

She shook her head in despair, saying haltingly, "I...I was in that carriage...My family is all dead...What's the point of me living...I have nowhere to go..."

It turned out she was a survivor of that mudslide, but was captured by bandits and suffered the devastating loss of everything. I understand her despair, but I cannot watch her give up.

"Giving up on life for such a reason is far too hasty!" My voice trembled with emotion, and images of my past life flashed through my mind, lying in a hospital bed, clinging to life with the help of medical equipment. "I still remember being terminally ill, lying on that cold hospital bed every day, barely surviving on IV drips and medication! Even turning over was a luxury! Yet I desperately wanted to live, to see the next day's sunlight! If you want to 'commit suicide' just because you've lost your home, then all my desperate struggle to survive makes me look like a ridiculous clown!"

I took a deep breath and almost shouted my last words: "Please! If you die, it's all over! You still have hands and feet, you're conscious, as long as you're alive, there's still hope, you can still fight to survive! Don't you want to do something for your family? Even just living on and remembering them is better than dying silently here!"

My words seemed to touch her. She remained silent for a long time, and finally, she began to sob softly, but it was no longer a desperate whimper; instead, it carried a hint of catharsis and... a faint glimmer of life. She slowly untied the chains binding her neck.

Having persuaded her, I breathed a slight sigh of relief. I quickly seized the opportunity to ask her if she knew anything about the bandit's hideout, such as the distribution of guards, the changing of the guard schedule, or whether these anti-magic chains had any weaknesses.

But she shook her head in frustration: "I was only recently locked up here, I don't know anything... They're keeping a very close watch on me."

It seems that intelligence sources are still scarce. We still have to rely on ourselves.

The primary task remains these damned magic-suppressing chains. I must find a way to break free of their restraints and restore my magic power in order to have any chance of escape and counterattack. I once again focused my attention on the cold metal binding my limbs, neck, and waist, and began to observe and think more carefully.