Chapter 26
Chapter 26
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 26
Chapter Title: Mercado: Heart of the Slave Trade
-----------------------------------------------------------------
If you folded the Cardia Continent horizontally, to the north lay the Forest of Beasts and the Holy Empire. To the south were the alliance nations resisting the Holy Empire.
And looming over the southern seas like its own sovereign nation was the Punish Archipelago.
Just as the harsh northern climate contrasted sharply with the bountiful south, their systems inevitably differed as well.
The most prominent difference was the institution of slavery.
The Holy Empire, which prioritized the faithful subjects of the Papal Court above all, openly operated a slave system.
The justification was that they could not treat heretics—such as beastkin or prisoners from the alliance nations—on the same level as the empire's own citizens.
It had been about thirty years since then.
The alliance nations condemned the Holy Empire's policies as barbaric and abolished slavery on a massive scale.
They argued that failing to respect all those under the kingdom's protection as free-willed commoners would make them no different from that devilish Holy Empire.
Of course, people's mindsets didn't change as easily as words.
Be that as it may, for these reasons, the status of slave had ostensibly vanished from alliance territories.
Yes, at least on the surface.
But as human psychology goes, the more something is suppressed and controlled, the more it rebels—that's human nature, after all.
Besides, unlike the north, the milder southern climate had fostered advanced agriculture.
In some ways, the south had an even greater demand for slaves than the north—never less.
Once the overt slave markets like those in the Holy Empire vanished, shadowy slave markets began sprouting like poisonous mushrooms in the underbellies of alliance nations, more secretive and grotesque than ever before.
These spreading slave markets coexisted symbiotically with those in power, who covered for them, growing to unfathomable depths.
The scale and insidiousness of these markets, when later exposed, even left the Holy Empire speechless.
How extreme was it? After conquering many kingdoms on the continent, the Holy Empire adopted those very methods for their own slave markets.
Among these, Mercado in the Sharon Kingdom was overwhelmingly the largest slave market in the alliance nations.
"Ugh, fuck. This place... I never get used to it, no matter how many times I come. Makes me sick every time."
"What? 'No matter how many times'? You bastard, I thought you only liked dolls, but you have a taste for slaves too?"
As I subtly put some distance between me and Saladin while retorting, he barked loudly.
"What bullshit! I've only come and gone a few times for commissions—nothing like that taste!"
And with a voice full of conviction, he added,
"For me, there's only Mimi and Nene under this sky. That kind of misunderstanding is offensive!"
"...Y-yeah. Sorry."
Overwhelmed by his intensity(?), I suddenly understood Viscount Edwin's feelings a bit.
I wanted to keep some distance(?) from Saladin for entirely different reasons, but unfortunately, with Ash looking like he was about to lose his mind from anxiety beside me, I couldn't achieve that goal.
"Sh-Shield Family's Third Young Master. I-is it true... that our princess is really here?"
Ash asked me, his wide hood covering his ears.
We hadn't exchanged any private words during the journey since that slap, only official matters.
This was the first time I'd seen this elf with such a bloodless face.
"Mm. Don't worry too much. If your princess is as beautiful as you described, she's probably not getting that kind of treatment."
The reason Saladin's face soured and Ash's paled after arriving at Mercado?
It was because the streets revealed themselves in stark brutality upon arrival.
Hmm, yeah... it's still not a pretty sight, even on a second look.
As someone who had once run one of the continent's top merchant groups, I couldn't avoid a major market like Mercado.
Then or now, it was as wretched as ever.
Mercado's streets were lined endlessly with iron-barred cages.
And crammed into those cages, shackled hand and foot, were slaves—sometimes a few, sometimes dozens tangled together.
It was impossible to tell when they'd last eaten or bathed; filthy didn't begin to cover it. They were gaunt, skin and bones.
Treated worse than dogs or pigs sold in ordinary markets.
Even that ruthless Holy Empire provided slaves with three meals a day and a bath every three days at minimum.
The old alliance nations had done the same, of course.
But after official slave markets vanished and underground ones became mainstream, such records survived only in history books.
Someday, if the chance arises, I should uproot this damned spectacle.
Not here and now, though.
This was the foreign Sharon Kingdom, and I was just a scion of a foreign noble house.
"Wh-what do you mean? That the princess won't get that treatment? D-do you have some idea?"
Ash, still pale as a ghost, shot back at me.
Well, elves living in the forest—when would they have seen such shocking scenes? These images probably wouldn't fade easily from their minds.
"Simple. Calm down and look around slowly once more. Among all those iron cages, are there any elves or dwarves like you?"
Only then did the elves start noticing the oddities at my counterquestion.
"Huh?"
"C-come to think of it...!"
Of course there weren't.
The rarer something is, the higher the price—that's Merchanting 101.
"The slaves here are mostly imperial soldiers captured in skirmishes with the Holy Empire or sailors from pirate ships seized in naval battles with the Punish Archipelago. All humans."
I continued, sweeping my gaze over the elf rangers.
"Fundamentally, intelligent non-humans like you command entirely different price brackets from them."
At my words, one of the ranger squad members whispered into Ash's ear.
"Captain, it's true—only humans in the cages, and mostly men."
I could see Ash's ears twitching under his hood.
"Hear that? You're elves, famed even among non-humans for your beauty. You couldn't get that beastly treatment even if you wanted it."
I added as I slowly made my way toward Mercado's central plaza.
"So, what happens to rare non-humans like you? For maximum hype and top dollar, nothing beats a high-profile auction."
"......!!"
"Yeah, ended up treating you like merchandise again without meaning to. That's just how human society works."
As I slowly explained to Ash and the rangers, how far had we walked?
The slaves' conditions began to improve noticeably.
Their ragged coverings evolved into proper attire.
The number per cage dwindled.
Unlike the entrance side packed with human males, women, non-humans, and specialized slaves for assassination or ambushes started appearing—optimized for clear uses beyond mere labor.
How much farther did we go?
Before long, we arrived at the most ornate and massive domed building in Mercado's heart.
The auction house, Cossacks.
It had shared Mercado's long history from the start, a testament to how thriving the underworld slave trade had become.
"Our princess is in there...!"
As Ash seemed ready to charge in, I grabbed his nape and held him back.
"Wait. This is Mercado's core spot. Every slave traded here is leagues beyond street goods."
Ash violently shook off my grip on his collar.
"Naturally, they're managed with utmost priority. Charging in like an idiot will get your princess whisked away before you even see her."
Ash straightened his clothes and spoke in frustration.
"Then what? Come all this way just to twiddle our thumbs?"
"Twiddle thumbs? Pfft."
I slowly pulled my ID from my breast pocket and dangled it before Ash's eyes.
"We walk in as proper customers and scout the situation first."
Buyers at Cossacks paid prices befitting the wares—mostly nobles or wealthy merchants.
And I was the son of one of the pinnacle noble houses among them.
As our group approached the Cossacks entrance, the guards crossed their massive halberds to block the way.
"Halt! This is the Cossacks Auction House. No entry without verified identity. New faces—please state your identity?"
For mere slave-market guards, they had discipline rivaling elite territorial troops.
Cossacks lives up to its name, huh.
I approached one guard casually, offering my ID along with a small pouch from my pocket.
"You've got a tough job. I'm Jerome, third son of the Carviot Count family from Ikenia Kingdom."
"Carviot... Shield Family?!"
The guards swiftly verified my ID and uncrossed their halberds.
"Forgive our ignorance and offense!"
"Hahaha, no harm done. Good to see hard workers. By the way, I've heard..."
I smiled to ease their tension, then slipped in a subtle question.
"Nothing much—just that an absolutely stunning elf just arrived, so here I am."
"Heavens! Word travels... No, sorry. Can't discuss auction items."
Slide.
I offered another pouch, expressing my friendliness(?).
Did the guard get the hint? His face relaxed bit by bit.
"Whoa! Thank you, young master... Ahem, normally I shouldn't say, but since we were rude... just between us."
The guard glanced around and whispered.
"An elf of beauty rare even in Cossacks—no, Mercado's—history is up for auction."
"Oh ho? Is that so?"
Bingo. Found her.
"Yes. The boss is already giggling about how high her bidding will go. You'll have your work cut out if you want her, young master."
Liking my gesture(?), the guard spilled even unasked details.
"Oho. Guess I'll have to empty my pockets. Thanks for the intel."
Slide.
Couldn't ignore such a helpful guard.
As I showed further appreciation, he reciprocated.
No ID checks for my group—he waved us right in.
Relationships between people? You've gotta show to receive.
Entering the auction hall, attendants handed out masks to cover faces at the entrance.
"At Cossacks Auction House, we guarantee bidders' identities thoroughly and prevent status-based discrimination."
They said this to those protesting the uncomfortable masks.
But no gullible fool here bought that line wholesale.
Truth was, it was just...
To hide the sleazy desires of those with shady backsides.
After our group sat, the remaining seats filled with masked figures.
The ceiling lights dimmed gradually, all spotlights converging on the platform.
"Esteemed ladies and gentlemen from all walks—welcome to Cossacks Auction House today. I'm Norman, your auctioneer."
The broker introducing himself as Norman bowed gracefully to the audience, met with polite, unenthusiastic applause.
"Heh heh heh, thank you for the warm welcome. Today's auction is packed with exquisite items for you bidders—expect great things. Let's begin!"
Clank!
As Norman's intro ended, lights shifted toward rattling chains.
"GRRAAAAAHHH!!"
Startled by the blinding lights, the first item—a lycanthrope—roared savagely, straining against its chains.
To judge those who dared make a great child of the moon mere spectacle.
But...
Not a single bidder flinched. Not even Norman right beside it.
On the contrary.
"Yes! Our first item: a lycanthrope, ruler of the southern Dragon Mountains' mid-slopes! Captured with great difficulty—flawless top-grade as you see!"
The more it thrashed, the harder Norman pushed it as a selling point to drive up the price.
"Known as the moon's kin, lycanthropes tear through orcs and trolls with unmatched combat prowess! Properly tamed, they'd outshine any mercenary as guards! Starting bid: 100 gold!"
"150 gold!"
Bidders began raising cards one by one.
"180 gold!"
"200 gold!"
"Yes! 200 gold! Any higher bids?"
"......"
"......"
"Sold! Final call: 200 gold, 200 gold, 200."
Thud!
With the gavel signaling the sale...
The chained lycanthrope was dragged off somewhere.
No different from any common art auction.
Except the 'item' was a living non-human.
And so began the auction—possibly featuring the elves' princess.