Slave Village…
Kent followed Beast Lady Dakini through the narrow, winding paths leading to the Slave Village. The further they walked, the clearer it became that this part of the capital was nothing like the grand ministerial towns they had passed earlier.
A pungent mix of sweat, damp soil, and burnt wood filled the air. The roads were uneven and dusty, with deep cracks in the ground as if even the land had given up on these people. Huts made of rotting wood and half-broken stones lined the streets, barely holding together. Small children with hollow cheeks ran barefoot, their eyes filled with hunger and curiosity.
Kent's gaze swept over the scene—men toiled under the sun, their backs hunched as they hauled massive wooden logs and sacks of grain. Their clothes were nothing more than rags, hanging loosely on their skeletal frames.
