In Ten Crows territory, slaves rarely tried to escape. It wasn't that they were slaves to the bone; it was simply that their chances of surviving after running away were far, far lower than if they stayed put.
If they didn't run, they could at least scrape together a meal. But if they chose to run?
Heh—
The first problem they faced wasn't pursuers, but the wilderness, where fierce birds of prey and beasts roamed year-round. The next was the lack of food and water.
Slaves were worth so little in Ten Crows that, rather than waste manpower and resources searching for them, the tribes might as well just buy more.
Slaves knew how to weigh the pros and cons, too.
Naturally, they wouldn't run away lightly.
So the tribes didn't keep a particularly close watch on their slaves.
Strangely, at that moment, a group of more than a dozen slaves was fleeing together across the wilderness. Their leader led them to a rock and, under everyone's watchful eyes, dug more than a dozen sets of thick winter clothes out from beside it.
The clothes came in men's and women's styles, and in all sorts of sizes.
Some of the fabric was far too fine for slaves to be allowed to wear. The leader handed out the winter clothes one by one. The other slaves were anxious, but still managed to restrain themselves from rushing forward all at once.
They had been dressed so lightly that the cold wind had nearly blown their wits away.
Once they put on the winter clothes, their body heat slowly returned. As warmth spread through their stiff, frozen limbs, a tingling itch began to prickle through them.
The leader asked, "Did everyone get a set?"
One after another, the slaves answered, "We did."
"Everyone's