Trafficked: Reborn Heir's Revenge-Chapter 29: A Heavy Burden

Chapter 29: A Heavy Burden

Only after the declaration he made, and the murmurs of the slaves — did Oliver, frozen in shock, realize what he had just agreed to.

A child against a man in his thirties?

'Shit!'

Even ten of him wouldn't be enough to do anything to the hulking commoner called Barka.

As Barka walked away, whispers filled the cages, and Oliver cursed at his own big mouth inside his head.

Oh the dread that weighed heavily in his chest.

One glance at Barka, with the figure of a man who had lived a hard life toiling the earth and doing backbreaking labor, and Oliver knew — he was going to receive the pounding of his life.

What had happened to the other poor man against Garron's fist would be nothing compared to what was waiting for him.

His skull would likely shatter with a single punch.

The thought alone made cold sweat trickle down his spine.

And yet, beyond the doom that loomed, Oliver understood something else.

This wasn't a simple fight between a man and a child. It wasn't even a contest of strength.

It was Royalty vs Commoner — a symbolic battle.

Garron had succeeded in twisting the narrative. A narrative these people had been itching for.

If Barka crushed him, it would be seen as Common Blood triumphing over Royal Blood.

Basically, it was indirect campaign...?

Yes, it was. Garron most likely knew that their future would be anything but easy, and he was taking full advantage of this moment.

Garron was a monster.

Oliver caught a glimpse of Garron's side-eyes — sharp, ever-calculating, filled with cold intelligence.

A chill ran down Oliver's spine. To think that Sir Bolton died but such a person lived.

'What kind of monster have I just unleashed into the world...?'

But before he could spiral further, Velma yanked him roughly by his good arm.

Without warning, she slapped him hard across the cheek.

SLAP!

"Idiot! What were you thinking?!" she snapped, her voice shaking with emotion.

Her brows were furrowed, her face flushed red with a mixture of fear and anger.

Tears brimmed in her furious eyes as she continued to rant, her words spilling out without pause.

"Why did you do something so stupid?! For me? You could have died, you fool!"

Oliver blinked, his cheek stinging. He knew she was worried, but was slapping him really necessary? Or was it because of the way he hit her the last time? And lastly, wasn't he suffering enough already?

Before he could voice his confusion, Velma's anger crumbled.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Her lips trembled.

And then she pulled him into a desperate embrace, her arms tightening around him as if she never wanted to let go.

Tears spilled freely down her cheeks, soaking his shoulder.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." she whispered, clutching him tighter.

At first, Oliver stood there stiffly, unsure.

But then his good arm rose on its own, slowly wrapping around her.

The moment he returned the hug, he felt her warmth seep into him — and with it, the heavy worry he carried washed away.

'It's worth it,' Oliver thought.

Holding his sister close, feeling her trembling with worry and love, he knew — he would face Barka a thousand times if he had to. Even if death was sure.

His love for Velma was the anchor that kept him moving forward.

In many ways, it was the very fire that pushed him towards his goal for revenge.

A focused look entered Oliver's eyes.

He had come this far — challenging fate, signing a contract with a cunny greedy demon, surviving against odds that should have crushed him.

Surely, he could survive this too.

Finally, Velma pulled away, sniffling and wiping her cheeks.

When they returned to their corner, she gently popped his dislocated arm back into place.

The pain was sharp and sudden, but afterward, the relief was immediate.

While helping him, Velma noticed something — the diagonal scar across Oliver's back.

That scar was too focused, too wide to have been from the earlier fight. And in her experience, it was at least from a beast. But there was more.

Her eyes widened in shock. The scar... it wasn't bleeding.

In fact, it was healing —slow–but still far too quickly for any normal wound.

Her mouth opened slightly as realization dawned, but before she could speak, Oliver hurriedly shifted to cover the scar, feigning ignorance.

She didn't press the matter, simply sitting closer to him with a troubled frown.

Surprisingly, another figure had joined them — sitting not too far away.

It was the broken man.

The other slaves shifted away, isolating the three of them as if they were cursed.

Oliver turned toward the man, his voice low and sincere.

"Thank you," he muttered.

The broken man didn't respond, still muttering incoherently, his mind remained damaged by Seraphina's torture.

But Oliver made a mental note to remember him.

Kindness in a place like this was rare — and precious.

Velma eventually turned toward Oliver, her voice cautious.

"What are you going to do about... him?"

Oliver sighed.

"I'm not sure yet. Right now, all I can do is rest. I need to conserve my strength."

Velma didn't say anything more, but Oliver could read the look in her eyes.

She wasn't going to sit back and let her little brother be crushed.

No matter what it took, she would act if it came to that.

Oliver smiled faintly.

He didn't need to ask to know that.

But right now, he had his own plans.

Interface, he commanded silently in his head.

The familiar blood-red glyphs appeared in the air before him.

---

Bloodline Abilities (Locked/Partially Unlocked):

Blood Absorption [Passive]: Converts absorbed blood into energy. [Level 1]

Nightmare Veil [Active]: Temporarily shroud in illusionary red mist. [Locked]

Nightmare Gifter [Active]: Inflict nightmares upon contact. Damage from nightmares can affect the body physically. (Depends on target's mental endurance.)

Thirst of Vengeance [Passive]: Stat boost when experiencing emotional rage. [Dormant]

Blood Sense [Passive]: Can faintly detect hostile intent through blood resonance.

Oliver sighed as he skimmed through the list.

Blood Absorption was useless if he couldn't make Barka bleed — and honestly, by the time he managed that, he might already be dead.

Nightmare Veil was locked.

The thought irritated him.

Why give me a skill I can't even use? he grumbled mentally.

Even if it was an illusion skill, being able to hide would have been very useful.

Then there was Nightmare Gifter — the same ability he had used the first time against Barka.

It had been effective, making the man bleed through the nose.

But it had serious flaws: he needed to maintain contact with the opponent's head for it to work — something Barka would definitely guard against this time.

Oliver's thoughts drifted to the time he had killed Sir Fen Bolton.

Back then, it hadn't been him — it had been the Bloodline's Will, seizing control to exact vengeance.

Could he call upon it again?

Curious, he whispered inside his mind:

"Hey... Bloodline Will? Hey, bloody skull thing? You there?"

No response.

Not even a whisper.

Figures.

It seemed the Bloodline Will only acted when it wanted to toy with him.

Without it, Oliver was back to his own strength.

Thirst of Vengeance was also uncertain.

It had no direct offensive power.

Maybe it had helped him when he first attacked Barka, but he wasn't sure how to consciously trigger it.

Lastly, Blood Sense — helpful for detecting danger, but no use in a straight fight.

Another sigh escaped him.

This bloodline, which was supposed to be some grand power, felt more like a scam at the moment.

Read 𝓁at𝙚st chapters at ƒrēenovelkiss.com Only.

Was all of this really worth it...?

Yet, this was the so called power rumored to have been able to challenge the Somara empire. This was really frustrating.

At that moment, something at the bottom of the interface caught his eye:

[Blood Shard of the Bellied Desert Bloody Scorpion]

Oliver froze.

His heart skipped a beat.