Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Wha-what? What is going on?

I was appalled by what was unfolding before my eyes. The beasts circled Eckles, salivating as if they were starving. His hands and feet were bound, the shackles on his feet connected to a chain that limited his movement. All this, and he was given only a single wooden sword to defend himself. He wore no armor, naked except for the rough drape of cloth covering his lower body.

This isn’t fair!

My heart sank. At this rate, the starving hyenas would tear him to pieces and make a meal out of him.

What do I do?

I wondered if I should intervene—stand up and shout that I’d buy the slave. The snarling of the beasts broke through my fretting. Mid-prowl, the biggest of the animals suddenly launched itself at Eckles. He rolled and stabbed the hyena in the eye with a lightning-fast motion, and followed up with a powerful kick.

The beast whimpered as it was launched backward. It slid across the ground and slumped, lifeless. With a cacophony of growling and barking, the remaining hyenas lunged at him all at once.

“Oh, god!” I screamed. He may have been able to take down a single hyena, but it seemed obvious to me he couldn’t fight all of them at once.

I needn’t have worried, however. Without wasting a single movement, he avoided the creatures’ sharp claws and teeth, killing them one by one with nothing but his wooden sword. In no time, two of the hyenas slumped to the floor, dead. Only two remained.

While Eckles was occupied with one beast, the other lunged at him from behind. He snapped the neck of the first, then spun, sword in hand.

The last hyena let out a high-pitched yelp. The wooden sword plunged into its belly as it leaped on him, even though it was just a practice sword with a dull tip. The final animal fell to the ground, splattering blood everywhere. The fight was over.

Eckles huffed, gasping for air. His shoulders were heaving, and bright crimson blood was dripping from his hands. The entire auction house had fallen silent. Then someone clapped, and the applause soon grew to a thunderous din as others joined in.

“Thank you!” shouted the auctioneer as light flooded the room once more, the showcase complete.

Eckles let out an almost inhuman growl. He seemed deep in a state of bloodlust, wildly swinging the wooden sword still in his hand. He swiped threateningly at the workers that approached him, but suddenly his body seized up, and he slumped to the ground, twitching. His limp form was dragged offstage. It seemed security measures had been taken to prevent the slaves from getting out of hand.

“He’s a feisty one... Not easy to handle through normal means,” the auctioneer said with a chuckle, calming the uneasy crowd. “Now, then! Shall we start low? Five hundred thousand gold!”

The bidding for Eckles was finally beginning. Compared to the previous slaves, the starting price was steep. I focused on the bidding, feeling tense.

“Six hundred thousand!” shouted one voice.

“Nine hundred thousand!” exclaimed another.

“A million! We have a million!”

The price was rocketing upwards at a frightening pace. At this rate, it would easily reach 10 million, which was the price I had expected the bidding to reach.

“Two million! Ah, we have four million over there!”

Thankfully, the fierce competition had gradually died down. Eckles was a slave from a conquered enemy nation, and he couldn’t perform services in bed or be used for other enjoyments any time soon, given that he was so dangerous. Not many were willing to pay over five million in gold for him, not unless they were crazy.

“Five million! Six million! We have six million!”

You could buy a small house with that amount of gold. Only two bidders remained: an old woman, whose mask obscured her face but not the prominent wrinkles on her neck, and a large man. Their eyes glistened with greed and desire. There was no doubt in my mind what they both wanted Eckles for.

“Nine million! We have nine million!”

The old woman drove the price up an additional three million—it was no doubt her final bid.

“Ten million! We have ten million!”

The man wasn’t giving up. The auctioneer stared slack-jawed, seemingly shocked by the amount of money they were offering.

The woman viciously slung her bidding paddle aside. She had lost.

“Ten million! Do we have no more offers? Going once!”

The countdown had begun. I looked around carefully, trying to scope out any potential rivals that might appear to bid against the man.

“Going twice...”

When I was certain no one else would bid I raised my paddle.

“A hundred million!” I shouted.

The auction house fell completely silent once more. If the gazes that flew at me could produce sound, I would have drowned in the deafening deluge of noise.

“One hundred...” The auctioneer’s jaw dropped. He stammered, as though unable to believe his ears, before hollering gleefully, “A hundred million! A hundred million gold! Do we have any more bids?”

As I expected, there weren’t any. Not that it mattered, of course. I’d decided to bid ten times the amount offered by the final bidder. My life depended on this, and I would gladly pay any price, be it a hundred million or even a billion.

“Sold to the lady over there for one hundred million gold!”

* * *

“Th-this way, please.” Following the auction’s conclusion, the auctioneer himself guided me through the building. It seemed he wasn’t simply the auctioneer, but someone of importance within the organization.

I followed him to the cells where the slaves were kept. Eckles was held in solitary confinement deep in the prison. I heard the sharp crack of a whip. Several workers lashed out at the same time, whips violently impacting Eckles’ bare skin.

Purchased slaves were immediately moved to fortified carriages and transported to the address of the buyer. Eckles was also to be delivered this way it seemed since he was being taken toward the carriages. Another crack of the whip and blood sprayed from the now open wound on his back.

My god.

He was in such a terrible state that I could barely look at him. I frowned. In the game, the duke had bought Eckles at the height of the festivities. He’d seen the knight while they’d been transporting him and paid a premium to take him off the buyer’s hands. To beat the duke to him, I’d snuck out on the first day of the festival, consequences be damned. I was relieved I’d managed to win the bidding in the end.

“How will you pay, my lady?” asked the auctioneer—or rather, the slave trader—in a greasy, groveling tone.

“Here.” I passed him the blank check.

“Oh my!” he gasped at the sight of it. His eyes gleamed greedily as he asked, “Which house shall I bill this to, my lady?”

“The House of Eckhart,” I said confidently.

The duke would be upset to learn that I’d spent a hundred million gold on a slave, but I’d already thought of a suitable excuse. The trader looked surprised, before eying me suspiciously.

“Uh... If you don’t mind, my lady... Do you have any proof of your identity?”

“Are you saying you don’t believe me?” I asked coldly.

The trader balked, waving in denial. “O-of course not! That would be absurd! However, it is usually a different member of House of Eckhart in attendance at our auctions...”

Left with no choice, I rummaged around in my pocket. I threw the small round object I found angrily at the slave trader.

“Bring that when you come to collect the payment, then.”

“Oh, good heavens! I-I beg your forgiveness, my gracious lady if I seemed doubtful!” The trader bowed deeply at the sight of Derrick’s gold button which was unmistakably marked with the symbol of the House of Eckhart.

He pulled something from his pocket, offering it to me. “Please take this, my lady.” It was a ring set with an enormous, glimmering ruby.

“What is this?” I asked.

“It’s a... token of sorts. It’s meant for the owner of that slave.”

With little choice, I took the ring, staring at it since I didn’t know what it did. The slave trader pointed at Eckles.

“Do you see the leather around his neck?”

There was a leather choker adorned with a yellow marble nestled against his throat. I nodded.

“That choker has been imbued with paralyzing magic. If you press the ruby on this ring it will cause the yellow marble to produce shock waves. It will let you restrain the slave if necessary.”

It appeared that this was what the auctioneer had used to subdue Eckles earlier.

“Try not to use it too often, however, as you may fry his brain,” the trader warned.

Fry his brain?

That was so cruel. I frowned at the ring in my hand.

“Please keep that ring on at all times. He is too dangerous for just anyone to handle easily. Go on, try it on.”

Thanks to the mask, the slave trader couldn’t read the distaste in my expression. He continued to insist I try the ring. Unable to refuse, I slid it onto my index finger. Suddenly, I heard a panicked scream.

“Aaargh!”

My head shot up, searching for the source of the commotion. Eckles’ thighs were clenched around a worker’s neck, choking him. The chains previously restraining his ankles lay discarded on the ground.

“See here! Contain him!” screamed the trader, his face draining of all color.

The workers, too afraid to approach the vicious slave even as he killed their companion, lashed out with their whips. Eckles’ victim gasped for air. The worker was slowly dying, all while Eckles’ skin tore open from the continuous whipping. I couldn’t stand by while a man died. After a long moment’s hesitation, I pressed the ruby mounted on the ring.

“Ugh!” Eckles stiffened immediately, quivering as if he were having a seizure, and slumped to the floor.

The worker gasped, huffing and gulping for air. Purple-faced and freed from Eckles’ clutches, he dashed away. I approached Eckles where he was trembling on all fours.

“M-my lady!” the slave trader called out in warning, but I ignored him.

Eckles groaned, glaring at me with eyes full of hostility, despite the pain he was no doubt experiencing.

The closer I got, the brighter the threatening letters bobbing above his head glowed. They read, “[Affection Score 0%].” I crouched in front of him and gripped his chin to lift his drooping head.

“Eckles…”