Chapter 1413: The Rebellion of the Human Slaves on Wala Star (1)

Wala Star, one of the slave farms of the Broken Bone Empire.

This planet was once a Human colonial world, where three billion people farmed on fertile plains and lived in bustling cities.

Later, the Orcs invaded, cities were destroyed, farmlands were burned, and a vast number of Humans were slaughtered, leaving two hundred and seventy million Humans to be reduced to slaves.

Even now, there are approximately two hundred million Human slaves on this planet.

They are scattered across Orc mines, farms, and factories, struggling to survive under the Orcs' whips.

The scorching sun is high in the sky.

The sacrificial plaza of the Broken Bone Tribe is under construction.

A massive stone platform is being built; the Orcs are to hold a sacrifice here, offering tributes to their God of Blood and Skulls.

The stone platform is about twenty meters high, its base constructed from solid rock, its surface carved with crude Runes.

Thousands of Human slaves are laboring at the construction site.

Some are hauling stones, some are mixing mortar, and some are standing on scaffolding to lay bricks.

Orc overseers stand at high vantage points, holding long whips in their hands.

The whips lash against the Human slaves, tearing skin and flesh.

A one-armed, one-eyed man carries a thick wooden beam, walking toward the scaffolding.

His left arm is empty from the shoulder down, and his right eye has been gouged out by something, leaving a gruesome, scarred socket.

His left eye is cloudy, yet still sharp.

His name is Ruike; when the Orcs invaded, he lost his left arm and right eye, was captured, and reduced to a slave.

Over these years, he has stubbornly survived, carrying hatred for these Orcs.

Ruike carries it on his right shoulder, his right hand gripping the front end of the wooden beam, his body tilted slightly to maintain balance.

He walks beneath the scaffolding and passes the wooden beam to the two people above.

The people above take it, pulling upward with force.

"Hold it steady, don't let go."

Ruike says.

The people above nod, their hands gripping the wooden beam tightly.

The sound of a whip lashing comes from nearby.

An Orc overseer is whipping a young Human slave.

That slave is so thin he is skin and bones, the clothes on his back already shredded, revealing streaks of blood.

"Faster! Faster! You lazy Two-legged Sheep! If the sacrificial platform isn't finished, none of you get to eat!"

Listening to the Orc overseer's roar, the young slave grits his teeth against the pain and continues to move stones.

Ruike's gaze sweeps over that Orc overseer, the anger in his left eye nearly overflowing.

Until the sky grows dark, the Orc overseer blows a horn.

"Stop! Eat!"

The slaves put down their tools and walk toward the temporary canteen at the edge of the construction site.

Calling it a canteen, it is merely a few large iron pots filled with thin porridge, so watery one can see their own reflection.

Each slave is allotted one bowl, along with a small piece of bread made from a mixture of dirt and flour.

Ruike carries his bowl and walks to a corner to sit down.

A young slave walks over and squats down beside him.

His name is Weike; when the Orcs invaded, his entire family was killed, and only he survived.

He is ten years younger than Ruike, and his body is still quite sturdy.

"Brother Ruike, the things are ready."

Ruike lowers his voice.

"How many?"

Weike says.

"Three thousand people, distributed in every corner of the site. The weapons are hidden in a secret compartment under the base of the sacrificial platform; they are all stones and iron rods, plus a few broken blades the Orcs discarded."

Ruike nods and asks.

"What about the Orcs' armory?"

"The wooden shed east of the sacrificial platform; inside are Energy Guns and ammunition. There aren't many guards, two Orcs, working in shifts. In the middle of the night, there is only one."

"When does the sacrifice begin?"

"Tomorrow at dawn, the Orc chieftain will come, along with several hundred Orc warriors. They will tie the tributes to the stone platform and then hold the ceremony."

Speaking to this point, Weike's tone becomes hesitant.

"Brother Ruike, there are so many Orcs, we..."

Ruike smiles as he looks at the young man.

"What? Scared?"

Weike lowers his head.

"To say I'm not scared would be a lie. After being enslaved by the Orcs for all these years, how could I not be scared?"

Ruike pats Weike on the shoulder and says earnestly.

"Even if you're scared, you have to do it. Over these years, how many of us have died? It's impossible to count. The Orcs treat us like livestock; they beat us when they want and kill us when they want. Do you think if you obey them, they will let you go? They won't. They will only squeeze you dry and then throw you into the Ten Thousand Sheep Pit.

If we don't resist, more of our kin will only die. Tomorrow during the sacrifice, all the slaves will be gathered in the plaza. The Orcs will be there too, and the armory is east of the sacrificial platform, not far from there. We act, seize the weapons, kill the Orcs, and then run into the mountains. As long as we get into the mountains, we will have a chance to fight the Orcs."

Hearing Ruike say this, Weike asks again.

"How long can we survive if we run into the mountains? Without food, without weapons and ammunition, we won't last long."

"Only by living to see tomorrow can one be qualified to ask these questions, right? Weike."

Weike nodded solemnly and quickly finished the food in his hands.

"I'll go notify the others."

Five minutes later, an Orc overseer shouted from a distance.

"All Two-legged Sheep! Get back to work! The sacrificial altar must be finished today! If it's not finished, you'll all die!"

Night fell, and the torches on the construction site lit up.

The Human slaves were working overtime, while the Orc overseers stood on high ground, holding long whips in their hands, mocking these Two-legged Sheep with their colleagues.

"Hahaha, these Two-legged Sheep are truly useful! They only need to eat a few food scraps to do so much work; they would certainly be good labor if sold to other factions."

"Indeed, even if these idiots are beaten until their skin is torn and flesh is mangled, as long as they can still move, they will continue to work! How base!"

"However, those good-looking female Two-legged Sheep do have more delicious meat."

"Not just delicious, there are other ways of cooking them that are also tasty."

The two Orc overseers looked at each other and burst into loud laughter.

When Ruike finished moving the last load of stones, Weike walked over and whispered.

"The weapons have been distributed, everyone has a tool. There are still some left in the hidden compartment, saved for those who come later."

Ruike glanced at the two Orc overseers who were chatting idly and lowered his voice.

"Good, when the shift changes at midnight, you lead the people to the armory, and I will provide support here."

Weike nodded.

"Understood."

Ruike looked at the busy slaves on the construction site; their eyes were all numb, and over these years, he had seen too many eyes like these.

No hope, no anger, only numbness; he wanted to make these eyes light up again.

The moon rose to its highest point, the sacrificial altar was finally finished, and the Orc overseer blew a horn.

"Work's over! Sleep! There's other work to do tomorrow!"

The slaves put down their tools and walked toward the camp.

Inside the camp were rows of crude wooden sheds, each housing hundreds of people, with straw spread on the ground.

The stench of sweat, excrement, and rotting wounds mixed together.

Ruike walked into his wooden shed and found a spot in the corner to lie down.

Weike lay beside him, closing his eyes to rest, his slightly trembling hands revealing the tension in his heart.

At midnight, the camp grew quiet, with snoring rising and falling.

Ruike sat up gently and saw that Weike was already sitting up.

"The time has come, prepare to act."