The People Forgotten by History

In the dark hall, Semir listened blankly to Little Barney. His gaze swept over every skeleton in the prison, but his eyes held nothing except emptiness and confusion, like a prodigal son who had left home many years ago and returned to find he had nothing left.

"Seven..." he murmured.

For some reason, as Tales listened to their conversation, he also felt empty inside, unbearably miserable.

Fuse coughed lightly among the crowd, then hurried to Ricky's side and pointed overhead:

"Up there. My people can't keep control for much longer, and we also have to guard against possible accidents..."

Ricky ignored him, but Fuse drew the prisoners' attention.

"Semir, who are those people who came with you?"

Little Barney moved closer to the bars, put away his mournful expression, and narrowed his eyes at the distant Calamity Swords, warningly saying:

"They don't look like officials. Not one of them looks like a noble in charge, and none looks like one of the soldiers from Bladefang Camp. They look more like... mercenaries?"

Ricky frowned, waved Fuse away, and signaled for him to stay calm.

Belleti, in another cell, also grew alert. "They don't look like people escorting you here or bringing escaped criminals to justice, either."

Belleti seemed to recall something and hardened his expression.

"How did you get down here, Semir?"

Semir furrowed his brow slightly, hesitating over how to answer.

In another cell, Cannon had been cowering with his head in his hands. Seeing so many people outside the cell, he suddenly shuddered and leaned against the wall, moaning in pain.

"They're helpers." Semir finally spoke, calmly facing the scrutinizing gazes of his former comrades.

"When I was desperate back then, they were the only people willing to lend me a hand."

Semir glanced at the Calamity Swords, his