The stench of the slave market assaulted Field's senses, making his nose sting. Those stingy merchants were like vampires, unwilling to spend even a single copper to bathe their slaves. Five or six slaves were crammed into tiny cages, forced to eat, sleep, and relieve themselves in the same confined space.
No privacy. No dignity. And thanks to the twisted education they'd received, not even the right to take their own lives.
In the cages displayed outside, many female slaves didn't even have a scrap of cloth to cover themselves. Their bare bodies were fully exposed to passersby, a grotesque marketing tactic that, unfortunately, worked well. Each day, toothless old men would wander by to gawk at the miserable displays.
"Sir, looking to buy a slave? Perfect for the farm—hardworking and obedient!"
"Rare elf slave, only one thousand gold coins!"
"Grand opening sale! Come take a look, sir!"
Field's well-tailored black robe, combined with the gleaming steel longsword at his side and his clean, refined appearance, marked him as an affluent customer. The slave traders' eyes lit up with greed. Nobles were their favourite type of buyer—not only because they had the means to spend freely, unlike the leering riffraff who came just to ogle, but also because nobles burned through slaves at an astonishing rate, often returning within days to purchase more.
To the aristocracy, slaves were worth less than hunting dogs. Killing one was as casual as snapping a twig.
Field's gaze swept over the iron cages housing the slaves. Their eyes lacked even the faintest spark of life. Dirty and dishevelled, it was difficult to distinguish male from female. Their bodies bore grotesque whip scars, and whenever one of them accidentally met Field's gaze, they immediately lowered their head and trembled.
"How much?" Field asked, his eyes scanning the group of slaves as he tracked the green dot on his map.
"Ah, sir, prices vary greatly depending on the race."
The merchant, a wiry man with a sharp, rodent-like face reminiscent of that character from Doraemon, rubbed his hands together eagerly. "Goblins, halflings, and pigmen are 10 silver coins apiece. Demi-humans are 20 silver. Orcs? 60 silver. But if you're looking for... entertainment, well, the price has no upper limit."
The merchant grinned wickedly, gesturing towards a large cage inside the shop. The most eye-catching slave was, without a doubt, the elf with a thousand-gold price tag.
She was stunningly beautiful, dressed in little more than sheer fabric that revealed her flawless, snow-white skin. But her vacant eyes betrayed her condition—she was little more than a broken shell.
"This elf? Played to death by goblins. Birthed at least twenty-six of their brats. Ha! And yet, she's still in high demand. I plan to send her to the auction house soon—she'll fetch far more than a mere thousand gold there. Interested?"
"I'm not," Field replied flatly. The green dot wasn't her, and he didn't have the funds to waste on such a frivolous purchase anyway. "How much for a human slave?"
"Humans are clever and more obedient," the merchant explained with a toothy grin. "Male slaves are 40 silver coins, while females are 25. But they're all for labour. If you're looking for some fun, I still recommend the elf. Even if you don't want her for pleasure, you could always kill her for her meat or use her to craft magical items. Both are excellent choices."
Field felt a wave of nausea wash over him.
In this world, nobles weren't the elegant, refined figures portrayed in television dramas. They were feudal tyrants, brutal and inhumane.
The elf's blood and flesh were said to enhance vitality and virility, which made her kind a delicacy on noblemen's dining tables—despite how similar they were to humans.
While chatting, Field finally located the green dot. His gaze shifted to an iron cage tucked away in a dim corner. The green marker, like a game quest guide, hovered just above the cage.
Inside was a demi-human—a white wolf demi-human, to be precise. She had striking red eyes, wolf-like ears, and a fluffy tail.
Dressed in coarse, tattered linen, she lay motionless on the cold, damp floor of the cage, her body barely moving. The only sign of life was her occasional glance at the keys dangling from the merchant's belt.
"A rare species from the grasslands," the merchant began, his tone full of pride as he recounted the grim details. "Our slaver team went through hell to breach their stronghold. Those damn savages—they fight like demons, with an unbreakable will to resist." His smirk widened. "If you plan to... enjoy a wolf demi-human, I'd recommend bringing help. Otherwise, you might end up with a broken neck—or worse. Heh, you know what I mean."
"Beast girl ears?"
Field's excitement spiked. As a long-time otaku back on Earth, he was utterly powerless against a red-eyed, wolf-eared girl.
Tentatively, he extended a hand through the bars, like one might when trying to pet a wary dog.
"Grrr..."
"Sir, I'd advise caution," Butler Kao warned, his brows furrowed.
The wolf girl growled low in her throat, a dangerous rumble. Her crimson eyes gleamed with a feral light. Captain Leona, ever on edge, placed a hand on his sword. "Baron Field, I'd strongly recommend against touching her. I'd rather we not have any accidents before reaching Nightfall Territory."
"Relax. She's adorable," Field said casually. Despite his words, he was someone who listened to reason. Retracting his hand, he adjusted his coat. In her eyes, he saw a mixture of stubbornness and sadness—cute yet pitiful.
"How much?" he asked.
"Just three gold coins!" The merchant, spotting the glint of desire in Field's eyes, shamelessly inflated the price.
One gold coin was equal to one hundred silver coins, and one silver coin to one hundred copper coins.
Field's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing. "You just said demi-humans cost 20 silver coins. Are you trying to make a fool out of a noble?"
"Oh, but she's special," the merchant replied quickly, his tone fawning. "Just look at her—she's stunning, isn't she? We only captured her recently, and I can guarantee she's untouched. Not a single filthy peasant's gaze has sullied her purity. She's destined for the auction house. With such exceptional beauty—if only she weren't a demi-human, that unclean species!—I wouldn't sell her for less than 300 gold coins."
"Fifty silver coins," Field said, crossing his arms. His tone carried a calculated allure. "Don't test my patience. I'm about to take charge of my territory, and I'll need more than just one slave or plaything. Think about it—one deal, or countless future deals? I trust you know which is more profitable."
"Hsss..." The merchant inhaled sharply, the temptation striking a chord deep within him.
After a moment of internal struggle, he relented. Building a connection with a noble who governed his own territory was undoubtedly a wise investment. Gritting his teeth, he conceded, "That depends on the size of your purchase."
Field's butler, Kao, cast him a puzzled glance. The Field of old wouldn't have haggled. He would have sympathized with the merchant's "hardship" and paid the asking price without question.
With meticulous selection, Field ended up purchasing 100 human slaves and 100 demi-human slaves, including 120 men. Alongside the wolf-eared girl, the total cost came to 53 gold coins.
"My lord, here are the soul contracts for the slaves. All have been verified by a Chosen One," the merchant said, handing over a bundle of parchment.
"Contracts?" Field took the sheepskin document, his eyes scanning the dense list of names scrawled across it.
"Yes, these are blood oaths sealed with the slaves' own essence," the merchant explained, his grin turning sleazy as he handed over the ropes binding the slaves. "Anyone who dares defy your will shall be incinerated by divine flames. So, feel free to do whatever you desire. Enjoy yourself, my dear customer."
"I will." Field waved dismissively. After all, once he reached the cursed land, if he couldn't find a way to enjoy himself, he'd probably end up being killed by the corruption anyway.