My name is Yutosai and I am a slave.

BAMP! SLAP! CRUSH!

A loud crash was heard from the corner of a wide dinner hall. Few men were fighting against each other using chairs, plates and spoons as a source of weapon on their rivals.

Not just each other, these few men were surrounding at the corner a little boy around age six who was holding a sharp knife on his bloody hands while standing against the trouble makers.

He was covered in wounds all over his body plus, his clothes all dusty covered in mud.

People in the hall seated in different benches could only watch at the mercy of the child.

In a great hall, built up with bricks, no paints, the floor all rough and tough covered in dust, the hall was 300 meters wide, arranged with benches and tables all around. On it, people dressed in poor clothes sat down to eat a single meal of the day.

A cook was busy cooking at the left corner stirring his spoon inside a big pot of potatoes soup. He was as fat as a potato sack, he was a man who enjoyed filling his own greed rather than others' need.

With his pot, steaming out tasteless steam, he watched from his side all the fight with a beaming smile on his fatty face.

The sour soup, prepared with only potatoes boiled and boiled onions with sprinkles of salt tasted horrible. Each bowl was severed by him according to the age and height of the person who wants to eat.

Regardless of this, the bowl serving was never given full. For children quarter bowl, for men and old 3/4 bowl soup, and women half bowl. All had to obey this rule in silence with no pain or complaints.

One ever tried for more scoop would reserve a penalty of hunger with due of three days.

One mercy was given that they could ask a second or third bowl still the fact would remain the same a hunger man always absorbs like a black hole.

The people eating in the hall weren't just people like humans. There were weak wizards, witches, elves, little beasts, dryads, ghouls, and many other spies. All were mixed in the humans inside this poor hall. This hall of mixed spies had living beings of all ages from young girls and boys, children, old age to adult men, women and they all shred one type of poor clothes.

Females wore long burnt brown dresses with full sleeves, covering them from high necks to the toes.

Males wore the same color pants and sleeveless shirts. These were their only clothing for all terms of weather, no matter the harsh summer or the freezing winter they had to survivor with their own clothing.

On the contrary, the other corner of the fight still went on growing hotter and hotter. The three to four men punched and kicked the little boy. This crazy boy swiped his sharp blade on every arm and fist like a wild cat defending himself. He blocked his back attack using the wall behind and fought with the only weapon on his hand.

The sharp knife…

Among the men, one of them said, while looking at his bleeding arms, "Why? No matter how much we try to bully him he always slashes at us back."

"DARN IT! He's so stubborn to lose." complained the other.

"But, on the other hand" spoke a sharp-looking man with his fist growing firm, "This boy can't stand for long. He's running out of energy too."

Unfortunately, this man was right. The little six years boy wasn't in fresh condition. He was covered in wounds and swollen, he exhaled and inhaled randomly plus his grip on his knife was growing to lose. His leg was wounded which didn't help him make a proper stand. His yellow hairs had half turned red by the blood bleeding from his head. It was dripping down his face which occurred due to a thrush hitting him on the wall.

"Bullying him…" hissed a thin man as he approached towards him slowly like a snake, "is the most exciting thing after work" he laughed out hissing like a python.

Exhaling in exhaustion, the boy could only curse the rival, "Darn it! You should die by my blade"

Once the hissing man got close to him he asked in a polite tone, "What…..is your name, kiddo?"

There was no reply.

To raise a confident answer from the kid the man spoke first introducing himself, "My name is Snakie that's what I am called. What is your name?"

When one introduces himself the other has to go next as a matter of respect for one another no matter the rank, class or place you are. This, the little boy knew and stood up straight breathing hard. He spoke up in anger, "My name is Yutosai and I am a Slave."