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Chapter 78
“Why do you look so surprised, Lady Amelia?”
Oscar asked me playfully.
“Oh, it’s nothing. Just…”
I forced myself to compose my expression as I answered.
“You move quicker than I expected.”
Oscar chuckled and shrugged.
“You have to know how to protect yourself if you want to live long.”
That was true.
At his words, Vincent showed a slightly intrigued look, then nodded toward the tent.
“Did you find it?”
Oscar nodded and pointed behind the tent.
“Yes, there’s a hidden door over there. The main guards are blocking every official entrance, but if we go through that secret one, we can slip inside unnoticed.”
“Good.”
Vincent gave me a brief hand signal.
“Amelia, stay close.”
Vincent gave me another order, and I nodded, carefully following him and Oscar.
In the darkness of the night, their footsteps were light but cautious.
Holding my cloak tightly in one hand, I kept my guard up.
When Oscar at the front gave a signal, Vincent guided me through the trees.
Circling around to the back of the tent, we really did find a small door.
It was too low to walk through; we’d have to crawl.
“Wow, how did you find that?”
Oscar lifted his shoulder once.
“That’s what skill looks like, haha.”
Vincent shut down his smugness immediately.
Oscar glanced at him irritably but stayed quiet, given the situation.
“Watch your head. Keep low.”
Following Vincent’s direction, we lowered ourselves close to the ground to pass through the hidden door.
Once I crouched down, a rush of mixed tension and anticipation welled inside me.
Among all those feelings was one thought — Sylvia.
‘She has to be somewhere in there.’
Just before I went in, Vincent, who had gone first, extended his arm toward me.
Without hesitation, I grabbed it tightly. I needed something — someone — to hold on to.
I exhaled slowly, feeling the solid strength in his arm under my hand.
He glanced down at me, and sensing my fear, gave a slight nod.
For a short moment, his eyes carried a quiet warmth that made me feel safe.
My nerves eased a little, though my mind was still full of thoughts.
And with that, we stepped into the darkness of the tent.
***
Inside the tent, she held her breath and scanned the area.
Her blue eyes trembled with unease.
Annoyed by her long silver hair, she gathered it roughly and tied it back.
“Ugh…”
The slave auction was worse than she’d imagined.
The air reeked of sweat, blood, and rot — so thick she had to cover her mouth and nose with her sleeve.
She swallowed dryly, forcing back nausea.
On the wooden platform they called a “stage,” the auctioneer was shouting with false excitement, waving a thick scroll.
Under the dim light, his oily face gleamed, and the gold chain around his neck clinked every time he moved.
His eyes were cold and greedy, showing not a trace of guilt as he sold human lives.
He shouted loudly.
“Next up, this man! Look at his strong arms and legs, his shoulders!”
The auctioneer dragged out a male slave.
He was middle-aged.
Thick iron chains bound his wrists and ankles, and it was clear he had been starved and overworked.
His hands and feet were ruined, his skin so thin that the bones showed through.
“He’ll make a fine farmhand or house laborer! And if not, you can use him for stress relief! Starting at 20 gold!”
“20!”
“22!”
Someone in the crowd called out, then others followed, shouting higher bids.
Seeing him treated like livestock, she gasped quietly.
The fear and resignation in the man’s eyes made her chest tighten.
‘I have to save them… somehow…’
She crept toward the back of the tent, keeping low.
Everyone’s attention was fixed on the stage, so few noticed her moving.
“And next, this female slave!”
The auctioneer’s voice rang again.
A young woman was dragged onto the stage.
Deep marks were carved into her wrists, and her clothes were worn and torn.
The auctioneer grabbed her by the chin, forcing her face up.
Her eyes, filled with terror, stared blankly at the ceiling.
“Look! Still young and beautiful! She’d serve well as a maid — or for other uses!”
The auctioneer laughed like a beast.
“Starting at 100 gold!”
“110!”
“113!”
The bids rose quickly, and a few men booed as they joined in.
“170!”
“Ha! 200! I’m taking that girl home today!”
“230!”
Her price skyrocketed, and the auctioneer looked more and more satisfied.
‘They’re insane… all of them…’
She clenched her teeth, forcing herself to calm down.
Losing control now would ruin everything.
Before causing chaos, she needed to locate where the slaves were kept.
As she crept farther back, she told herself firmly,
‘Focus. If you lose focus now, it’s over.’
She pulled at a flap of the tent, making a small opening.
She was planning to summon wind magic to spread a sleeping powder across the room.
But for that, she needed outside air.
Yet the night outside was still. There wasn’t a hint of wind.
If she waited, she might lose her chance.
While she hesitated, harsh laughter erupted nearby.
“Ahahaha!”
“What’s that? Are they selling that too?”
Sylvia looked toward the stage where people were pointing.
“Now, for a very special item!”
The auctioneer grinned as two figures were brought out.
A young man and woman — twins.
Their wrists were bound together, and their heads hung low in fear.
“Twin siblings! Rarely found! Perfect for all sorts of uses!”
He looked around the crowd and added,
“For your family’s service… or for secret pleasures! Whatever you wish, they’ll suit your needs!”
‘Twins…? Unbelievable.’
Sylvia’s fists trembled in the shadows.
Everyone here seemed possessed, lost to greed and lust.
And to think these same people walked the streets by day as if nothing were wrong.
The bids rose rapidly.
Then, as the auctioneer yanked on the twins’ chains, laughter filled the tent.
“Sold! Congratulations!”
Applause and laughter echoed through the tent, and Sylvia shuddered.
Overwhelmed by rage, shelifted her long magic staff.
But in that moment, her wrist was suddenly twisted.
“Well, what’s this? A rat sneaking around?”
“A mage, huh? Hahaha.”
While she’d been watching the stage, one of the guards had spotted her.
