“It is just that the process is... a bit unique. Have you ever used this magic on yourself? Who did you learn it from? Or did you figure it out yourself? This kind is quite rare,” she said, appearing to be genuinely interested in a rare skill.
“I just learned it haphazardly on my own. It is nothing compared to the priests of the Church.”
Bai Xuan picked up his staff and stood up. “Apologies, it is late, and I really must be heading back. We can talk again if we have the chance.”
He did not give Kami another opportunity to press him with questions. With a slight nod of acknowledgment, he turned and walked toward the tavern’s entrance.
He could feel her gaze following him until he pushed open the wooden door of the tavern.
The night wind was slightly cool, dispersing the stale heat of the tavern and clearing Bai Xuan’s mind.
He checked to ensure his coin pouch and potions were in their proper places, then gripped his coarse staff and began retracing his memory back to the White Lion Inn.
The cold moonlight spilled over the cobblestone road, outlining the jagged black silhouettes of the buildings.
The night in the Outer Town was not entirely silent, but pedestrians were much scarcer than during the day, with only a few scattered lights peeking through the cracks of closed doors and windows.
Bai Xuan’s pace quickened instinctively as he remained alert to his surroundings.
Just as he crossed a relatively wide main street and prepared to turn into a closer but somewhat secluded alleyway...
A cacophony of clashing metal and low shouts drifted faintly from deep within the alley.
Bai Xuan stopped in his tracks and listened intently, his body tensing slightly.
It sounded like... the loading of goods, but the atmosphere was exceptionally heavy.
He hesitated for a moment, curiosity battling with caution.
Ultimately, he chose to stay in the shadows of the wall. Guided by the moonlight and the few distant lights, he crept a few steps closer to the source of the noise and peered into the alley.
Deep in the alley, in an open space shielded by high walls where the moonlight could not directly reach, stood a large freight carriage covered with a thick, filthy tarp.
Around the carriage, several crude, rusted iron cages were piled on the ground or half-hung from the side of the vehicle, reflecting a cold light in the dimness.
The cargo inside those cages made Bai Xuan’s brow furrow instinctively.
It was not fur, nor ore, but people!
There were men, women, young and old, and he could even see several demi-humans with distinct non-human features: pointed ears, coarse skin, and pupils brighter than those of humans.
Most of them were dressed in rags that barely covered them, huddled together in the cramped spaces of the cages.
Almost everyone wore dark metal collars or handcuffs and shackles; these were Mana-Suppressing Shackles that could inhibit magic or physical strength.
Their eyes were uniformly hollow and numb, as if their souls had long since been extracted, leaving only husks behind.
In one smaller cage, three or four children were squeezed together, the oldest appearing to be no more than ten years old.
Emaciated and with deep fear etched onto their dirty little faces, they huddled tightly together, shivering.
Two middle-aged men wearing silk robes and possessing shrewd expressions were clearly the slave traders.
The two were standing by the carriage, conversing with a few customers.
Hay and filth were scattered across the ground, and the air was thick with the smell of sour sweat and despair.
A wave of discomfort churned in Bai Xuan’s stomach, and his fist tightened silently inside his sleeve.
Slave trade! This term, once a cold record in history books from his previous life, had instantly transformed into a sickening scene from hell right before his eyes.
A surge of hot blood rushed to his head, and the impulse to save them nearly made him step forward.
But in the next moment, reason doused him like ice water.
He quickly scanned the area: standing beside the two merchants were four guards with fierce gazes and bulging waists. Their panels identified them as 【Mercenary Lv. 3】.
Among the customers, though he could not see them clearly, two or three were dressed as adventurers. One was even a mage who had reached 【Shadow Mage Lv. 5】.
And what about himself? A Level 3 Classless individual. Even if he relied on a sneak attack, it would not work. Rushing out would result in nothing but getting himself caught as well.
Even if he somehow succeeded, what then?
Shelter, food, evading pursuit, confronting potential backers...
Alone in this unfamiliar place of Blackcreek Town, he was completely powerless.
He watched as a portly human merchant paid his coins and pointed at a sturdy male slave with a scarred arm.
“Be quick about it,” the merchant urged the slave trader. “The mine is waiting for labor to go down the shaft.”
The leader of the slave traders, a middle-aged man with gaunt cheeks and shrewd eyes, responded with a fake smile as he produced a dark gray metal plate engraved with twisted runes.
Without ceremony, he pressed the plate against the male slave’s forehead. The slave’s body trembled almost imperceptibly.
A mark, looking as if it had been burned on by a branding iron, appeared beneath the skin of his forehead before fading away.
“There, the Slave Mark is applied. I guarantee he will be obedient; if you tell him to go east, he won’t dare go west,” the slave trader said, clapping his hands.
The fat merchant hummed in satisfaction and reached out to grab the male slave’s arm. “Move! Don’t dawdle!”
The male slave was pulled into a stumble. His eyes remained hollow, but his body subconsciously followed the force of the tug, his movements stiff and slow.
“What are you dawdling for! You piece of trash!” Seeing his slow movements, the merchant’s temper flared, and he kicked the man in the back of the knee.
The male slave let out a muffled groan as he fell to his knees, hitting the gravel, but his face showed no expression of pain or anger.
He merely struggled to stand back up and continued to follow the cursing merchant, his footsteps uneven as they disappeared at the other end of the alley.
From beginning to end, his gaze never focused on anything, as if his soul had already sunk deeper into the earth than any mine shaft.
Bai Xuan forced himself to look away, suppressing the chill in his heart as he stopped watching the suffocating scene deep in the alley.
He took one last look at the pile of cold iron cages and the numb figures within before turning to melt into the night.
Deep in the alley, the slave trade continued. For both parties involved, it was just another ordinary night.
The next to step forward was a middle-aged man with a steady expression.
His gaze went directly past the strong adult slaves and landed on the cage holding the children.
He watched for a while before pointing at a thin little boy with black hair and black eyes whose back was held a bit straighter than the other children.
“This one,” his voice was low, raspy, and concise.
The slave trader was somewhat surprised. Children like this, who clearly could not serve as immediate labor, were not easy to sell and their prices were low.
However, he was happy to make a sale and quickly quoted a price.
The middle-aged man did not haggle and counted out the silver coins.
He did not use a Slave Mark. Instead, he signaled for the trader to open the cage.
He bent down and stepped inside. Under the boy’s terrified and cowering gaze, he used a small key he carried to gently unlock the collar around the boy’s neck.
Then, while the boy looked on in daze, the middle-aged man took a clean, thick gray cloak from his pack.
He gave it a gentle shake and wrapped it around the boy’s nearly naked body.
“Follow me,” the man said simply, then turned and walked out of the cage.
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