After what felt like an eternity, a guard finally showed up. The auction had begun, and in this world, slavery wasn't just tolerated—it was a shameless spectacle that nobles eagerly participated in.
"Tarik," the guard called out, his voice cold and indifferent.
"N—No, please, nooooo!!" Tarik cried out, his voice filled with desperation. But his pleas fell on deaf ears as they dragged him away. He was a bit older than me, probably in his prime, which made him a valuable commodity in this twisted market.
The rest of us in the cell could only watch in horror as Tarik and several others were hauled off to be sold like cattle. After they took twenty of us, the cell door slammed shut again, leaving the rest of us to wait in dread.
I stood up, my heart pounding in my chest like a drum. I approached the cell gates, my eyes scanning the scene before me. There were two guards right in front of the cell, their backs turned to me. Further down the corridor, three more guards stood watch. Beyond them, I could see a room where negotiations were taking place between the bastard who had given me the Seal and a buyer.
My heart raced even faster as I realized what I was about to do. I had killed before, but it was always one-on-one, and I had only taken three lives in my entire life. Now, I was facing more than five opponents, and I had to take them all out quickly and quietly. One wrong move, one slash in the back, and I'd be the one screaming and dying.
I gulped, feeling my throat go dry. But I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what was to come. There was no way I was going to let myself be sold like an animal. I had no intention of being reduced to that, and I was going to escape before it could happen.
I approached the keyhole and produced a key. It had cost me 50 gold coins to create, and it was a one-time use, but I didn't have many choices. I inserted the key carefully, my hands steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins. The key slid in perfectly, and I turned it slowly, the lock clicking open with a soft tink.
The others in the cell watched me in silence, their eyes wide with confusion.
I had done it.
The cell door was unlocked, and my escape plan was in motion. Now, all I had to do was take out the guards and make my way to freedom.
It was now or never. I took a step back and summoned Whisperfang, the beautiful blade gleaming in my right hand. The others in the cell gasped at the sight of it, their eyes wide with a mix of awe and fear.
Seizing the moment, I kicked open the cell gate with all my might. The guard right in front of it tumbled down, caught completely off guard. With the gate now open, I rushed toward the guard on the left. I pounced on him like an animal, my blade finding its mark in his throat. Blood spurted out, staining my clothes, but I didn't have time to worry about that. I spun around to face the other guard, who was already scrambling to his feet.
[Gale Step]!
In a blink of an eye, I was on him, my speed enhanced to the point where he didn't stand a chance. I plunged Whisperfang into his heart, the blade slicing through his skin with ease. It worked! I wasn't shackled by mana restraints, thankfully. They must have thought it unnecessary since I had the slave seal.
"W…what did you do…?" Gilbert whispered in shock. The others in the cell looked at me in shock, their eyes fixed on the blood-stained blade in my hand.
"I'm getting out of here," I said, wiping the fang on my clothes. "Stay here if you want."
Gilbert looked at me for a moment, then stood up and grabbed the sword from one of the fallen guards. "I might as well die fighting instead of getting sold," he said with a laugh.
To my surprise, another prisoner joined us—a woman, a bit older than me, with brown hair. She was an elf, and she picked up the other guard's sword. The rest of the prisoners chose to stay behind, their fear of fighting while still bearing the slave seals too great.
We moved forward, our footsteps echoing down the corridor. The three remaining guards were chatting and laughing, completely unaware of the danger approaching. It was impossible to take them all by surprise, but I had a plan.
"We'll wait for your cue, boy," Gilbert said, a grin spreading across his face.
I nodded and stepped forward, activating [Gale Step] once again. I rushed toward the first guard, catching him off guard, but he was just far enough away to block my attack with his arm. He groaned in pain as Whisperfang sliced through his flesh.
"You bastards!!" One of the other guards shouted, his voice filled with rage.
"Kill them!" Another yelled, drawing his weapon.
The guard I had stabbed reached out, his hand grasping for my throat, but before he could lay a finger on me, his head flew off, severed by a clean, lightning-fast cut. I widened my eyes in shock and looked back at Gilbert, who stood there with a satisfied smile on his face.
This man... he wasn't an ordinary man.
The other guy swung his sword at us, but the elf was lightning-fast. She blocked his attack with a unique twist of her blade, disarming him in a flash. Before he could react, she plunged her sword into his chest, ending the fight right then and there.
The last man standing looked at us with wide, fearful eyes. He turned tail and started running away as fast as his legs could carry him. But Gilbert wasn't having any of that. With a swift and powerful throw, he launched his sword like a missile, striking the man square in the back. The guy crumpled to the ground, gone in an instant.
"Who are you, exactly?" I asked Gilbert as he retrieved his sword from the fallen man's back.
"I was part of the royal guard of the King of Veridia," Gilbert replied.
Veridia... That name rang a bell. It was the kingdom I hailed from, which explained why Gilbert might have recognized me from somewhere. My father was a Duke in that kingdom, a man of high standing and influence.
But the question lingered in my mind: how did a royal guard end up as a slave? It was a mystery, but honestly, I didn't care enough to dig deeper. I let it go and focused on the task at hand. We all walked towards the door at the end of the corridor, our footsteps echoing in the tense silence.
"Be careful," Gilbert warned. "This one is dangerous."
If Gilbert said he was dangerous, then he must be. But dangerous or not, he had to die for my freedom. I kicked open the door the wood splintering under my foot.
"Wh...Who is it?!" The buyer jumped up from his seat, shock written all over his face.
"Hm? How did you get out of the cells, you three?" The man whose back was facing us glanced over his shoulder, his voice dripping with arrogance.
It was him. The one who had put that slave seal on me.
"Creston!" The buyer shouted.
"Shut up, I will take care of them," Creston smirked, standing up to face us. "An old man, a woman, and a brat still sucking his thumb. Now, who do you think I am?" He laughed, the sound grating on my nerves.
But I wasn't about to let him get the upper hand. I activated [Gale Step], darting towards him with blinding speed. He saw me coming, though, and I felt a wave of danger wash over me. I stopped in my tracks and sidestepped just in time to avoid his counterattack.
Gilbert appeared out of nowhere, his sword swinging with deadly precision. Creston didn't hesitate, drawing his own blade to meet the challenge. The clash of their swords echoed through the room, and Creston was sent sliding back, the force of Gilbert's strike overwhelming him.
"You," Creston growled, his eyes narrowing. "I thought you wouldn't fight back. It was the decision of your King, and you disobey him."
"I am just missing my granddaughter," Gilbert replied with a smile, his sword moving with incredible speed and skill.
Gilbert was a force to be reckoned with. He was stronger than Creston, his every move calculated and powerful. But Creston wasn't about to go down without a fight. He smirked, clenching a small orb in his hand.