I Can Multiply My Daily Gacha by 100x

He took her wrist and tapped it twice with two fingers. She went still. Her eyes met his, and the sleepiness in them cleared a little. She understand what is happening and nodded.

On the other side of the room, Yenna had pulled the blanket over her lantern. She floated just above the floor with her ears pressed down, and she lay down beside Miso and closed her eyes.

Miso lay across the door with his head on his paws.

Esabella settled against Dante’s side and rested her head on his shoulder. Her breathing slowed. After a minute, she was perfectly still.

Dante lay back and let his own breath go long and even.

’Don’t Sleep. Just look like you do.’

Then Hours passed. The lamps outside went out. The forest began to murmur again, voices drifting between the trunks. He didn’t listen to them.

Then he heard some footsteps. They were soft and many, and they stopped outside the door.

A hand tried the latch. The bar held. Someone whispered very low.

”Move it.”

A knife slid through the crack and lifted the bar. It scraped across wood and fell. The door opened, and air rushed in with the smell of sweet smoke.

Miso didn’t stir. His eyes were also closed.

”The wolf first,” Hessa’s voice said. ”Rope the legs. Then the girls. The man last.”

Boots crossed the floor. Hands closed on Dante’s wrists and pulled them behind his back. A rope bit into his skin and tightened, once, twice, three times.

He didn’t move.

’Good.’

A lamp flared. He felt its light through his eyelids.

”Check the girl with the lantern,” Hessa said. ”Take it off her.”

”It won’t come off.”

Dante’s eyes stayed closed for now. Footsteps came to a stop in front of him. Small, light ones, from the doorway. They stopped a pace away.

”Are you tired yet?” A girl’s voice whispered, almost sweet.

Dante kept his eyes closed. The ropes bit into his wrists. Around him, boots shuffled across the floor, and someone grunted as they dragged Miso’s front paws together.

”Hush, Lira,” Hessa said sharply. ”Go back to the shed.”

”Ye–Yes”

A small pair of feet pattered away. Dante heard the door scrape.

”Lift him,” Hessa said.

Two men took him under the arms and hauled him up. His head rolled forward, and his hair fell across his face.

”Is he out?”

”Dead asleep.”

”The rest?”

”The cat’s still on the floor. The big woman’s tied. The wolf’s roped and hobbled.”

”Good.” Hessa sounded pleased. ”Cael.”

”Y–Yes, Mother.”

Cael stepped out of the dark. A fresh bruise showed on his cheek where she had slapped him earlier. He stood there, hands folded, eyes on the floor.

”You did well,” Hessa said, and patted his shoulder. ”Now go and help your sister lock the shed.”

”Y-Yes, M-Mother.” He turned for the door.

Dante let his eyes open the smallest crack. He saw Cael’s back. The boy didn’t look at him.

Then they carried him out of the house. He felt rope on his wrists, rope on his ankles, and the swing of his body between two sets of shoulders. Through his lashes, he saw green mushroom light and the dark outline of low roofs.

Behind him came more footsteps. Heavy ones, wet breathing, and a scrape of claws on dirt. Miso, dragged on a sledge.

”Where do we take them?” a spearman asked.

”The shed first,” Hessa said. ”The children are inside. We keep everything together till morning.”

”And after?”

”The Elders decide.”

Dante’s fingers moved a hair’s breadth. He flexed them, then loosened them.

The shed was long and low. A bar lay across its door.

Inside, thirteen children sat on straw mats along the wall. They looked up when the door opened. They stared at the three bound figures and the wolf on the sledge. Nobody spoke.

The men dumped Dante on the floor.

’These disgusting monster try to touch me with there dirty hands!! Only my king is allowed to touch me, i will kill them all’ Esabella landed beside him, still tied, with her hair across her face. Yenna was last, with her wrists in rope and a cloth over the lantern.

”Watch them,” Hessa told the guard at the door. ”If they wake, knock them out again.”

”Yes.”

”Lock it.”

The bar scraped across the wood. Steps moved away. A lamp somewhere outside went out. And the shed went dark.

Dante lay still Then he heard a small voice in the dark.

”Are you sleeping?” It was the girl. Lira. She had crawled across the straw until she sat a foot from his face.

Then dante opened his eyes.

”I knew you weren’t asleep,” she whispered. Her eyes were large and bright in the gloom. ”You breathe different.”

Dante didn’t answer.

”Are you going to hurt us?”

”No, i don’t think it’s necessary–.”

”Mother says you will.”

”She is wrong.”

She tilted her head, studying him. ”Cael says you saved him and he also said that you are strong ”

”...”

She was also quiet for a moment. Then she held up a small, hard thing and showed it to him. A tiny knife with a chipped edge.

”I can cut your rope.”

”....Why do you want to help me?”

”Because I want to see what you do.”

Dante looked at the knife. At her face. She wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t hopeful either. She was only curious.

Across the shed, Esabella’s eyes had opened. Yenna’s too.

”Cut it,” Dante said.

Lira slid the knife under the rope and sawed. It parted in four strokes. He rolled his wrists and sat up.

”Thank you.”

”You’re welcome.” She smiled. ”But please don’t tell Mother.”

Dante cut the last rope with Lira’s chipped knife and eased Yenna’s wrists free.

”Don’t move yet,” he whispered.

Esabella was already sitting up, rubbing her hands. She looked at the door, where a guard’s shadow showed in the crack, and her fingers curled.

”One attack,” she breathed. ”He won’t even scream.”

”Not yet”

”But-, My King...”

”If he dies, they know we’re awake.”

She pressed her lips together and lowered her hand. Thirteen pairs of eyes watched them from the straw. Nobody made a sound. A small boy near the wall had pulled his knees to his chest and was shaking, and the girl beside him held his hand.

Cael sat at the end of the row with his head down. A bruise showed on his cheek.

”You’re not tied,” Dante said.

”No.” Cael didn’t look up. ”Mother says we don’t need it. Because We never run.”

”Why not?”