Arthur walked through the wide stone gates of the port city, after he paid the entry fee to the guard who offered a bored nod and let him pass.

The city was called Navarre, one of the major port cities of the Virelia Kingdom which was involved in trade with other kingdoms. Crates of exotic goods were being hauled onto merchant ships that were berthed in the harbor.

Arthur scanned the area and went deeper in the city, then he walked up to a small food stall manned by a bald man, who was stirring something thick and steaming in a pot.

“Excuse me,” Arthur asked the man. “Where can I find the Merchant Guild?”

The man looked up at Arthur, “Ah, the Merchant Guild, sir? Head straight down that road till you see the big stone arch with a golden emblem above it. Can’t miss it really.”

Arthur smiled and placed a silver coin on the counter.

The man blinked at it. “Wha…Sir, this is too much for…”

Arthur had already turned, waving over his shoulder. “For your trouble.”

He made his way through the streets until the looming guild building came into view.

He pushed open the doors and stepped into the reception hall. Several people were already sitting on the cushioned benches, mostly middle-aged men in expensive robes waiting with their ledgers, hoping to get an audience with the guildmaster.

At the desk stood a young receptionist with soft brown furred ears twitching in time with the noise around her, clearly showing her beastkin heritage. Her tail flicked as she looked up and smiled politely.

“Welcome to the Merchant Guild. How may I assist you today, sir?”

Arthur didn’t waste time. “I need to speak with the guildmaster.”

The catgirl tilted her head slightly. “Do you have an appointment, Mister…?”

He shook his head. “No appointment.”

She offered an apologetic smile. “In that case, I must kindly ask you to wait. The Guildmaster is very busy today.”

From the row of seats, a smug voice piped up.

“Lad, what makes you think the guildmaster will see someone like you without an appointment?” a rotund man scoffed, leaning back with arms crossed. He elbowed the man next to him. “Kids these days don’t even know their place.” And started laughing loudly.

But seeing Arthur ignoring him, the man stopped laughing and got a bit angry, but before he could say anything, Arthur reached into his dimensional storage and casually took out and placed a heavy bag on the counter, it made clinking noise as it landed.

The receptionist opened it slightly, revealing a bag full of gold coins. Her eyes widened seeing them. 

“I believe the guildmaster will want to make time for me,” Arthur said without looking at the mocking voices coming from behind him.

The air in the room shifted. Even the smug merchant shut his mouth as the receptionist straightened instantly, her ears perking upright.

“O-of course, sir. May I have your name for registration?”

“Theodore Belmont. I am a merchant from a faraway place,” he replied, while giving a fake identity.

She bowed slightly and gestured to the stairs. “Please follow me. I will inform the Guildmaster immediately.”

And before the wide eyes of the onlookers the receptionist took Arthur to the upper floors to meet with the guildmaster.

The upper floor was quieter, with red carpets and polished brass fixtures lining the walls. The receptionist disappeared through a door after telling Arthur to wait for a moment, before returning with a smile.

“She’s ready to receive you, Mister Belmont.”

Arthur nodded and stepped inside.

The office was elegant, a long mahogany desk stood at the center, with bookshelves flanking either side. Behind the desk sat a woman in her early thirties with auburn hair tied into a high bun, she had sharp eyes and her posture was confident.

“Welcome, Mister Belmont,” she said, offering her hand. “I’m Isolde Vostel, Guildmaster of Navarre Port city’s merchant guild. Please, sit.”

Arthur took the offered seat and returned her handshake with a professional nod.

“I appreciate you taking the time.”

“Well,” she said, folding her hands over a notebook, “I find that people who drop a bag of gold at my receptionist’s desk usually don’t come to waste my time. So, what business brings you to my guild today?”

Arthur leaned back slightly shrugging off the light jab. “I’m looking to purchase a bulk of supplies. Mainly grains, rice, wheat, corn and any other you have. I would take ten tons of each type.”

Isolde raised a brow but kept her expression neutral. “That’s quite a haul. Might I ask the nature of the venture?”

“I’m building a new settlement further down the coast, on an uninhabited island,” Arthur said. “We’re growing rapidly in number, and I need both food and seed stock to ensure long-term sustainability.”

Isolde nodded and scribbled a few quick notes. “We can manage that quantity. Might take a day or two depending on how fast the warehouses can clear your order.”

“That’s fine,” Arthur said. “I’m also looking for saplings, fruit trees, in particular. A few hundred of each variety if possible.”

“Hmm,” she said thoughtfully. “Apples, oranges, grapes, citrus, berries, those I can manage. Some exotic varieties might take longer depending on demand. But you’ll have options.”

“Good,” Arthur replied. “I’ll also need cloth, tools, cooking supplies, and basic amenities in bulk. Think of it like outfitting a large village.”

Isolde looked up. “And how do you want them delivered?”

Arthur shook his head. “You don’t need to worry about that. Just have them prepared and brought to the port, I’ll handle the rest.”

He continued, “Oh and can you please prepare some food supplies of two days worth for around a thousand people immediately.”

Her brow twitched slightly but she didn’t deny his request. “Alright. I’ll begin coordination with the warehouse managers. And you can check the ordered supplies the day after tomorrow in the morning.” Then she gave him a copy of the receipt.

After that Arthur paid the amount in platinum and gold coins, then stood and extended his hand again. “A pleasure doing business.”

She took it with a firm grip. “Likewise, Mister Belmont. Please wait for a moment, I will inform the receptionist to guide you towards our warehouse to collect the food supplies. And if you need anything else, don’t hesitate to contact us.”

Both of them then left the office and after Isolde told Arthur’s request to the receptionist, she guided him to collect them.

…

Arthur stepped out of the Merchant Guild after procuring the supplies.

He then moved into a narrow, quiet alley between two shops. Glancing once over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching, he reached into his dimensional storage and pulled out three fist-sized spherical probes.

Since he was already here, he was going to investigate if there were any slave traders in this city. 

He activated the probes, they started emitting a low hum before rising into the air and zipping into the sky. A second later, they flickered and vanished from sight, they turned invisible and started to scour the city using its scanners.

<Scanners activated. Commencing wide-area surveillance.> the AI’s voice sounded in his earpiece.

Arthur opened a small holographic window projected from his wristband, showing a multi-layered grid of the city. The probes immediately began sweeping through the area, mapping the above-ground and underground structures.

Most of the underground facilities were storage vaults, cellars, or empty facilities under houses owned by nobles. But then one scan flickered red, an auction house near the western district, with a large subterranean area under the main building, the probes detected clusters of heat signatures from there.

Arthur zoomed in, he found there were a total of fifty three heat signatures that looked humanoid in shape. He didn’t need to guess too hard, he knew what that meant.

Slaves. If it was just workers, they wouldn’t be huddled together like they were bound in a cage and all of them should not be stationary at the same time.

His eyes narrowed. “Of course. These places always have something rotten beneath the surface.”

Still he was not sure, he would have to infiltrate the place to know that.

Without wasting time, he removed his ear piece and pulled out his combat armor. The sleek black plates unfolded with a hiss and snapped around him, locking into place. He activated the invisibility module and launched into the air, his form disappearing into the night sky.

…

Beneath the Auction House

The air in the underground facility was musty and damp, the stone walls were also covered with molds. Dim torchlight cast long shadows between the iron bars of several cages crammed into the chamber.

Inside one of the cages, a young man of around twenty years old sat with his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles had turned white. His face was streaked with dirt, but his eyes were burning with fury.

“I’m going to kill them all when I get out of here,” The man hissed between clenched teeth and teary eyes.

His older sister, who sat beside him, gently reached out to brush his hair back from his face. Her fingers were shaky, but her voice was calm.

“Don’t say things like that,” she said softly. “You’ll only drive yourself mad.”

“They killed our family, Syara. And they sold us to slavery,” Sylas bit back, his voice cracking.

“I know,” she said, her voice trembling just slightly. “But… what choice do we have?”

She looked down, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the faint mark on her wrist, the slave seal. Her lips trembled as she spoke again.

“We’re already marked. Even if we escape, they’ll find us. They can track us using the seal, and if they catch us…”

Syara didn’t complete her words, but she can see her brother was still not convinced. 

Syara looked at him, her expression softening with pain. She never blamed him, not even once, for what happened to their family, for she knew it was not his fault.

They were the Sylas Everhart and Syara Everhart siblings, the last of House Everhart, once a respected minor noble family from a neighboring kingdom. The two siblings have always been exceptionally talented in magic. 

They were living peacefully, until Sylas beat a duke’s son in a public duel during a competition at their academy.

And that had wounded the pride of the duke’s son. The man’s humiliation sparked a chain reaction of political games and forged accusations. In less than a month, their household was raided, their parents executed, their lands seized, and the siblings were sold off to slavers under falsified debts.

Now they were here, in this filth, awaiting to be sold to the highest bidder.

Syara leaned her head against the cold bars and closed her eyes. “Let’s just pray our buyer doesn’t have cruel hands.”

Around them, there were many others with their own circumstances who were captured and branded as slaves. The same hopelessness echoed in the faces of the other captives, men, young women, even children barely twelve years old. 

Some had been sold into slavery for failing to pay off their debts in time. Others were simply poor but beautiful, commodities for the twisted desire of the rich.

The room was quiet except for the sound of chains rattling and the occasional sob that no one tried to hide.

…

Above the Auction House

Arthur hovered above the large estate, his armor allowing him to blend perfectly with the night sky. He opened his ‘Map’ as he scanned the building again, trying to find an entry to the underground facility. 

After he scanned and marked the path he descended quietly, near the back gate. Seeing there was no trap embedded in the gate and sensing no mana from it, he touched the gate and attached some nanobots.

After the nanobots ate away at the lock, he opened the gate slowly so as not to make any noise and slipped inside. He started navigating through marked corridors until he located the descending stairwell leading to the basement.

He moved while avoiding the guards patrolling the area, stopping just outside the heavy iron door leading to the auction house’s holding chamber, where he detected the life signatures.

From inside he could hear hushed voices, Arthur took a deep breath and opened the door.

***

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