"Clang, clang, clang..." The first rays of dawn slowly fell upon Lycaeus's dome. After half a day of labor, the miners dragged their exhausted bodies onto the train carrying today's ore and began returning to their camps.
"Whooo..." The steam locomotive continuously belched thick black smoke. As the steam train crawled along, the pitch-black smoke spread evenly over the tracks beside it, staining a black path across the ground.
At the same time, an empty train set out from the other end. What unsettled the train's armed personnel was that, after passing several camps along the way, not a single person boarded. The slaves who normally looked like zombies, their faces forever etched with exhaustion, seemed to have vanished into thin air.
"Ask about the situation on the other trains, and report this to the Tower." The Train Captain watched the train approaching on the opposite track. Only miners returning from their shifts stood on the platform. He knew this was trouble.
It was understandable if one or two camps were empty, but if every camp was empty, then the problem was enormous.
"Train Captain, this is bad! The other trains have encountered the same situation. There's nobody anywhere—it's as if all the slaves on Lycaeus have disappeared!" the communications officer reported in a panic.
"Has it been reported to the Tower?" the Train Captain asked with a deep frown.
"The moment I started confirming with the other trains, I reported it," the communications officer said.
"The slaves haven't disappeared. These slaves are on strike!" the Train Captain said through gritted teeth.
"Order the train to stop. All armed overseers are to disembark and assemble on the platform while awaiting orders from above!" After a moment of thought, the Train Captain issued his command.
In a situation like this, the Tower would certainly have the nearest overseers inspect the nearest camps. The returning trains had to escort the mined ore, and they were naturally the closest. The patrolling overseers, according to Tower regulations, would not set out until an hour later.
Sure enough, just as the train's armed overseers disembarked and began assembling, the communications officer received an order from the Tower.
"I don't care what these slaves are up to. Go to the camp nearest you right now and drive every last one of them back to the mines!" A violently furious roar came from the other end of the communicator.
"My lord, what if these slaves refuse to obey our orders?" The Train Captain had no choice but to ask for instructions. He needed to know how they were meant to handle this strike.
"Then they'll never need to mine again." With that, the other side cut off the communication.
"Find out which camp is closest to us," the Train Captain ordered.
"My lord, Camp 169 is the closest, but..." The communications officer wanted to say something, but swallowed his words in the end.
"Quit hemming and hawing. Speak!" the Train Captain snapped impatiently. He normally only handled the train's operations and did not know how the surrounding camps were distributed.
"This camp is the largest in the surrounding area—even in the entire East District. If we do as ordered from above, it'll be difficult..." Only then did the communications overseer reveal the truth to the Train Captain.
"Damn it, I forgot to check the almanac before leaving today!" The Train Captain clutched his forehead in misery. Right now, he truly wanted to call in sick and quit.
If he really followed the orders from above, every overseer on his train would end up on the list of people sent to mine, and he would absolutely be at the top of it.
Although these overseers had no access to information from above and knew nothing about politics, small fry had their own ways of surviving.
He had seen quite a few colleagues sent down to mine. But did those people ever get the chance to mine? The moment they arrived, they were torn to pieces by the slaves.
Pieces in the literal sense.
The miners of Lycaeus hated the Tower's lackeys with a hatred that even blood feuds could not describe.
Even overseers who were not responsible for daily patrols could be recognized at a glance by these slaves amid a vast crowd.
That was fate.
Led by the communications officer, the Train Captain took a group of armed overseers toward The Saviors' camp.
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"Stop. You—yes, you, come here!" Halfway there, the Train Captain suddenly called over the communications officer who had been leading the way.
"Train Captain, what are your orders?" the communications officer said, bowing and scraping in an utterly servile manner.
"Click..." The Train Captain said nothing. He simply switched the man's communicator to silent mode.
"Everyone, get over here. If you don't want to be sent to mine, listen carefully to every single word I say next!" The Train Captain swung the long whip in his hand. The slender snake-scale whip cracked through the air with a tremendous sonic boom.
Several dozen overseers who had been straggling along immediately gathered around the Train Captain at the sound.
"You all know the order from above. But there is one thing I need to emphasize: without my order, no one is allowed to fire. Do you hear me?" The Train Captain glared viciously at the overseers and roared.
These people were not a regular army to begin with. On top of that, they had grown accustomed to throwing their weight around on Lycaeus. Now that their lives were at stake, the Train Captain naturally had no intention of indulging them.
"Train Captain, don't worry. We know what to do. Even if we fire, we won't shoot at people. The brothers might be a little lax normally, but we all know the score. If we kill all these slaves, then when those above hold someone accountable, we'll be the ones sent to mine," said the leader of the overseers responsible for train security with a smile.
"And keep your mouths shut. If word of what happened today gets out, I'll make whoever leaked it wish they were dead. Move out!" With that, the Train Captain led the group onward toward The Saviors' camp.
Aside from the armed overseers assigned to the most unfortunate train, who had to travel on foot, the overseers from every other supply point were all driven out in a rush like ducks being herded.
For a time, Lycaeus, which had operated steadily for who knew how many years, descended into complete chaos.
The overseers who were accustomed to dawdling and slacking off were driven and cursed at as they hurried toward the nearest camps. Even the overseers who had just been preparing to change shifts were forced out as well.
"Train Captain, we're almost there. But the people in this camp are not easy to deal with. Please be careful." The communications officer pointed at the enormous camp two hundred meters ahead, surrounded by walls made from all kinds of stone.
"You call this thing a camp?" the Train Captain said as he looked at the fortress enclosed by thick stone walls.
The walls stood ten meters tall, covered with watchtowers, firing slits, and battlements. For a moment, the Train Captain wondered whether he had arrived at the castle of some ancient noble.