"So we are finally going back. This is nostalgic. We are almost at where those fang wolves attacked us. I can't believe we almost died back there, and now we have hunted dozens of them," Sturm reminisced.
Edgar subconsciously looked at his arms. It had been his first time to really use magic. While not as talented as Sturm in the arcane arts, he had come a long way since then as well. Still, he did not know if he could calmly cast a spell with ferocious magic wolves trying to tear him apart. The merchant was good with people, numbers, and manipulation, with magic beasts, on the other hand, not so much.
Not like that was necessary; after all, he did handsomely pay a guard captain, albeit that title was questionable as he had still not hired any other guards. The genius magic and combat slave was not to be trifled with either. They still tried to hire Daga, as hunting beasts and defending against beasts while protecting a non-combatant could simply not be compared.
The assassin was on another mission and not available this time around, but under the insistence of Reinhardt and Sturm, the merchant gave up on hiring additional mercenaries. Except for Daga, most of them could not be trusted anyways, and they were on an important mission.
While traveling on the cart, Edgar had plenty of time to go into detail about their exact plans. It was no complicated grand scheme but a rather simple plot to take care of current circumstances. The primary income of the Siren Song Merchants was the supply of food and tools for all slaves, slavers, guards, and other personnel of the slave camp.
The number of people in the camp matched the towns. Even if the slaves only ate small quantities of the lowest quality food available, the sheer bulk still provided an impressive profit. All of these goods had to be transported, and this is where the Sirens encountered increasing problems.
Mercenaries were cheaper to hire than professional guards, but that lack of professionalism brought its own complications. Over the last years, the beasts had been slowly migrating towards the town and slave camp, condensing the magic beast territories and causing the merchant caravans to face magic beast attacks with a much higher frequency. Most mercenaries had already been avoiding going deep into the forest and would only hunt grassfoxes or ironmaw bears... if even that.
Only the increased security of a large caravan, combined with the easy pay, made those mercenaries accept the guard mission. Disaster struck the Siren Song caravans during their last three deliveries. Multiple mercenaries died, something which never happened before. Magic beasts were smarter than animals, and even animals would know to avoid a large and guarded caravan.
Not this time around. People guessed that the caravan simply crossed the territory of a fang wolf lord, who took their transgression as a challenge to his authority. Twice they tried to change their route afterward, with the same outcome both times. Not everyone had a slave with enhanced perception, being able to sense incoming danger, and even if they did, a large caravan hardly had the means to avoid it. Unsurprisingly, the mercenaries stopped accepting that mission, causing the Siren Song Merchants to turn towards professional guards.
They had no other option if they wanted to keep their slave camp business afloat, but the professional guards demanded substantial pay in view of the current situation. Even if their profit was close to none, the Siren Song Merchants had to accept their terms. The whole ordeal was heavily pressuring their leaders, especially since it was unknown how long they would be able to keep this up.
Edgar's plan was to capitalize on their crisis. To accomplish that, they had to provide the Overseer in the slave camp a better deal and more secure transportation. Even though the Thunder Merchant Group had been on the rise, they still did not have the capital nor the manpower to provide both the materials and necessary caravan escorts.
When you can't accomplish something by yourself, you can always look for partners who can fill in what you lack. And that partner was the Mercenary Association. As a neutral organization, present all around the continent, they had both the means and the influence to take over the slave camp trade. Obviously, not all members of the association maintained neutrality. Favors and corruption were common, but only as long as it did not hurt the organization's interests.
Through Geronimo's recommendation, Edgar managed to meet the local branch manager, and the two of them worked out an agreement. The Thunder Merchant Group would take care of the logistics, the business connections, and Reinhardt would personally lead an expedition to get the wolf threat under control.
Unknowingly, Sturm and Reinhardt had already accomplished thinning out the wolf population the previous day, which further demonstrated the Mercenary Association their capabilities, reinforcing the deal. With the association's cooperation, not only would the transportation route be secured, but the Siren Song Merchants would also refrain from striking back in fear of angering the powerful organization.
The journey went surprisingly smooth, with fang wolves often stalking but never actually attacking them. Half an hour before schedule, the forest trees gave way to a wide patch of grass in front of a tall wooden palisade.
<
The guards, having already been informed of their arrival, waved them through after a quick check. The place was still the same, endless rows of tents on sandy ground and the smell of sweat and blood permeating through the air. Few slaves could be seen walking through the tents, as most were in the quarry at this time. The ones they did saw though, looked just as miserable as Sturm remembered.
It was hard for him to look at them and realizing he had been the same. Under different circumstances, that would have been it. All the magic, adventure, and battles he had expected from this world would have been forever out of range. Edgar gave Mike everything, and now Sturm would pay it back for the rest of his life. Maybe the divine voice that had brought him to his world had expected all of this, or maybe not.
Only one thing was for sure, Sturm was truly happy here. Despite the slave status, despite being looked at by most people as nothing more than a piece of dirt, the care Edgar had given him outweighed any outsider's shunning. Likewise, Reinhardt had taught him how to hunt magic beasts, survive and prioritize. Always respecting him as a human, just like the merchant did. Being with those two, learning magic, and fighting magic beasts, was more than Sturm could have ever asked for.
As the three traversed the sea of tents, they approached the ocean to the south. Next to the cliff was the only building made out of stone in the entire slave camp. The metal fence surrounding the property reminded Sturm of the ones fancy rich people had in all those movies back on Earth. In front of a massive metal gate stood a contingent of ten guards, resembling those he had seen in the special section of the pit the first time he entered it.
Those guards were all nobles, albeit low-ranking ones. Most were at the sixth step, while their captain was at the seventh. This also explained their exaggerated strength, lifting massive tower shields like they were cups of morning coffee. The captain approached the cart carrying Sturm, Edgar, and Reinhardt with a diplomatic smile. Strangely, that smile did not turn into disgust when looking at Sturm.
"My men will take care of the cart from here and unload the goods for you. Please be assured that you will get it back in perfect condition when we send you on your way back. I also have to request you to leave all of your weapons with us. You surely won't need them for a simple deal with the Overseer. Additionally, your personal slave will have to stand by in a designated shack inside the compound. We don't want it to dirty the Overseer's mansion. Thank you for your understanding."
<
Reinhardt wanted to protest, but Edgar held him back. Unlike a few in the town, the Overseer knew exactly that Sturm was a slave. The man was also famous for his general disgust of the, in his eyes, subhuman species. Slaves were tools to be used until they broke and then to be thrown away. Sturm would survive being alone for a while, there was no reason to cause trouble.
The guard captain understood what his boss wanted to convey and reluctantly handed over his two axes and Sturm's hirschfanger. Edgar had no weapons on him; in the case of trouble, lightning bolts would be far more devastating anyway. As the two adults were being escorted to the mansion, another guard led Sturm to a nice-looking wooden shack. The shack was well maintained, without any holes or scratches visible anywhere.
<
[Black Room]
Edgar and Reinhardt were still just a few meters away when Sturm's senses spread out through the surroundings to recreate them in the [Black Room]. The wind touching his skin, vibrations through the earth, the smell of sweat, and the sound of movement were all picked up by the Nine Pillars of Awareness. As the black space in Sturm's mind expanded, new information was constantly processed.
<
Sturm turned around, screaming at Edgar and Reinhardt at the top of his lungs.
"IT'S A TRAP!"