During one of my war expeditions, my men and I stopped in the forest to rest.

My men dispersed to perform their duties.

Five hours later I see one of my men approach me.

"Sir," he said, bowing.

"We found the ruins of an enemy base nearby. There was nothing there except a slave chained to the walls of the dungeon," he informed me, and I frowned.

"How do you know he's a slave?" I asked curiously.

"He's wearing an iron collar, Sir," he replied, and I nodded. "However... There is no sign of affiliation," he added, and I looked at him in surprise.

"There aren't?" I asked in surprise, wondering why the slave's previous owner had not marked him with his mark on the back of his neck, either by burning it or tattooing it.

"He's probably just an unfortunate person to be entertained," my man replied.

"Where is this slave?" I asked, getting up to go and see the unfortunate man.

"In the doctor's tent, unconscious. His health condition is not very satisfactory" he replied.