Adrian moved two steps forward, standing at the very edge of the raised platform. A smirk played across his face.
"Men," he shouted, his voice reverberating through the compound. "How does this feel?"
He raised the whip high into the air.
"To be traded like worthless objects?" he roared. "I offered some gold coins to your master, and he, without a moment's hesitation, decided to sell every last one of you."
Iklis' eyes bulged in shock. He had never agreed to sell them. He had been forced into this through poison. He could not understand where this man was going with it. Did he not already hold command of the Unsullied? What more did he want with these words?
The Unsullied, on the other hand, though trained to feel nothing and simply obey any person with a whip, felt a spark ignite in their chests. Human emotion could never be truly erased. It had only been suppressed, and Adrian's words were now reigniting those long-buried feelings.
"Do you even feel anything?" Adrian boomed. "That your master, your previous master, sold you all so easily. For a handful of coins?"
Iklis could no longer stay silent. He was about to rebuke Adrian, to shout that he had not sold them, that he had been coerced. But Adrian gave him no chance.
In a blink, the sword at Adrian's waist was unsheathed.
He spun sharply, and before anyone could react, the blade cleaved through Iklis' neck. Even the normally fearless and stoic Unsullied flinched at the suddenness of it. None of them had expected such a swift and brutal turn.
A thin line of blood appeared on Iklis' neck. His eyes went bloodshot as he raised his hands toward Adrian, filled with hatred in his final moments. Adrian stood there smiling as Iklis' head hit the ground with a dull thud, blood gurgling from the severed neck. A heartbeat later, the body collapsed beside it.
The Unsullied did not need to know the truth. If and only if Adrian could stir their feelings of being treated as worthless, of having no respect, he would be able to shape them into what he desired.
He wanted them to feel that pain of humiliation and betrayal. He knew many among them must already have felt humiliation at such treatment, and he needed to turn that spark into a blazing sense of betrayal.
Adrian turned back toward the Unsullied as if he had not just killed a man moments ago.
"I may not seem very different to you from this man," Adrian continued. "He sold you for coins, and I bought you with them."
"But" Adrian added, raising his hand before suddenly throwing the whip to the ground.
The eyes of the Unsullied widened in shock. Some of them were as old as fifty and had never, in all their lives, seen the whip that commanded them treated so contemptuously, simply tossed onto the ground. It had been always a symbol of authority over them. A symbol of their ownership.
And the greatest question echoed in their minds. Who commanded them now?
"I hereby declare you all free of your slavery!" Adrian roared, further stunning the Unsullied. They could hardly believe, could not even imagine, what they were hearing.
Freedom was not something they could associate themselves with.
"Confused?" Adrian's voice rang out, clear and steady. "Wondering what I mean by all this? What I intend to achieve? What my aim truly is? And what freedom might even look like for all of you?"
He paused, sweeping his gaze over the rows of Unsullied, faces disciplined into stone masks, but eyes beginning to flicker with something uncertain, something alive.
"I will admit it plainly," Adrian continued. "I would not hide that I have a selfish motive behind these words."
"I intend to take over this city of Lys," he said, and a ripple of shock moved through the ranks. Men who had stood unflinching through countless drills and battles now shifted ever so slightly, eyes widening. "And not just Lys. I aim to build an empire, an empire of my own."
"I hope that you will stand with me, help me make this dream a reality."
He paused again, then raised his voice, letting it grow with quiet intensity. "But does that mean you must be bound by chains of slavery? Does it mean you and countless others like you are forever condemned to live and die as slaves?"
His eyes swept over them; their expression still unreadable but the flicker of hopes burning in their eyes.
"I do not believe that," Adrian declared. "If you follow me, I want it to be by your choice. I want you to stand by me of your own free will to help build this empire because you wish it."
"That is freedom," he said, his voice dropping slightly. "If you wish, you can walk out of this compound right now. No one will stop you. Or you can remain here by my side."
Then his voice thundered across the courtyard.
"So—what will you do? Will you serve me? Will you march with me toward a dream of breaking chains and freeing all slaves?"
A hush fell. The Unsullied stood stiff and silent, but now there were faint signs of life, small, almost imperceptible movements, eyes that shone with questions long buried. Sparks had begun to kindle where once there had only been cold obedience.
Then it came. The first strike of a spear against the ground. Then another. And then the entire compound erupted, echoing with the thunder of spears pounding the earth.
These 900 Unsullied, no, these 900 free men had made their choice. They were going to follow the man who had given them hope. Maybe now, at last, they would have dignity and respect of their own.
They would serve, but not as slaves. As free men.
Adrian's face broke into a wide smile as he raised his hand, fist clenched high in a show of strength. He did not need to say a word now; his eyes alone spoke volumes.
And so, with a single raised fist amid a sea of freed Unsullied, a man named Adrian began his journey in this new world.
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