The Slave Girl

The day after I obtained the hidden boss, Vanargand the Devourer, in the S-Rank Dungeon【Crimson Night Moon】.

Today I went out to the capital’s busy shopping district to buy daily necessities and furniture.

Even though I bought a large mansion, the only properly furnished rooms are the two bedrooms—mine and Ekarraat’s (she’s occupying one even though she could just sleep inside my shadow).

Since I gained the ability to store things in Vanargand’s pocket-dimension, I planned to buy everything at once.

Vanargand’s pocket-dimension ability can store an infinite amount of material, and items kept inside apparently do not experience the passage of time—they don’t deteriorate or rot.

I bought sofas, tables, beds and the like at the furniture store and stuffed them into Vanargand’s space.

The salesman was surprised, but he bought the explanation that it was that kind of magical item.

――On the way back after buying all the furniture, carpets, and bedding.

‘Sid, buy that ice confection from the stall. I’ve seen it through a bat’s eye before, and I’ve wanted to try it once.’

“Huh?”

Ekarraat stuck only her wrist out of the shadow, grabbed my ankle, and stopped me.

I looked where the finger protruding from the shadow was poking out—the stall had a sign that read ‘Ice Cream’.

“Yeah, yeah. A vampire that eats a lot.”

Even after becoming Undead and no longer needing to eat, she still eats as a pleasure, and Ekarraat does that even more than I do.

When she’s at the mansion it feels like she’s always eating something.

“Shopkeeper, give me one of these.”

“Sure thing.”

I bought the ice cream, glanced to make sure no one was watching, and dropped it into the shadow.

When I really think about it, what exactly is inside my shadow…?

“Oh, this slave has good coloring and build! I’ll take this one!”

“…Huh?”

Ekarraat finished her ice cream and we were on our way home again.

A voice called out from behind us.

It was a middle-aged man dressed in extravagant clothes.

“Hmm… there’s no collar? Their management is terrible! Hey, merchant! This slave has no collar!!”

The middle-aged man was loudly calling for the merchant.

Looking around more closely, I saw a tent set up in a plaza facing the street.

Peering inside, it looked like slaves were being bought and sold.

He probably assumed I was one of the slaves displayed for sale because I’m of the Shikai Tribe.

“Old man, I’m not for sale. Try someone else.”

“What…? You’re a free Shikai Tribe member! Don’t do something confusing like that!”

The wealthy-looking middle-aged man spat his complaint and walked off.

“Sigh… the idea that Shikai Tribe equals slave is really entrenched… Being yelled at just for walking past a slave market.”

“That just means you’re a fine man—still, I don’t like my master being disparaged. Let’s move somewhere else quickly.”

“Yeah… wait, what’s that?”

Just before turning on my heel, the scene inside the tent caught the corner of my eye.

Child slaves were lined up in a row, their handcuffs and shackles tied to the next slave with rope so they couldn’t flee.

One of those slaves—black-haired with black eyes—caught my attention.

About thirteen—no, given the poor nutrition of slaves, maybe a bit older—around fifteen, a girl slave.

“…!”

“Hey! Number 4! Don’t just sit down on your own!”

――Whack!!

“――Nngh!?”

The black-haired slave staggered and squatted down, and the man—likely the slave trader—tried to make her stand by hitting her with a whip.

But the girl with the tag reading ‘4’ around her neck seemed to have no strength to stand and just endured the trader’s blows.

――Hey Sid! How many times do I have to tell you, you incompetent fool! Can’t you understand unless you’re hit, scum!

Flashbacks of the verbal and physical abuse I suffered during my time as a slave surged into my mind.

And it lined up with the image of this Shikai Tribe slave girl.

‘Hey Sid… don’t tell me you’re going to buy that Shikai Tribe slave?’

“(Ekarraat, don’t get in the way.)”

I had no prior acquaintance with the girl; she was certainly a child from another settlement.

But she was still of the same people as me.

“Hey.”

I grabbed the arm that was about to swing the whip from behind and stopped it.

“Oh, a customer…? Wait, huh? You’re Shikai Tribe, aren’t you?”

The slave trader treats slaves like merchandise.

He encounters Shikai Tribe people often enough that at the sight of my face he recoiled as if seeing something filthy and brushed my hand away.

“What do you want? Have you come to sell yourself as a slave?”

“Sell me that Number 4 slave.”

“Ha! A Shikai Tribe buying a slave—what a joke! Hm? ――――Aha, I see now.”

The trader looked back and forth between my hair color and the slave’s, then smiled as if he had figured something out.

“Fine, I’ll sell her. Two million G.”

“Sid, stop. He’s taking advantage of you. She’s clearly malnourished and covered in wounds, and yet he’s asking three times the market price.”

“Oops, sorry, but I don’t plan to haggle even one G.”

“Fine. How about this?”

I connected the pocket of my long coat to Vanargand and pulled out a bag of gold coins from inside.

The trader was surprised that a Shikai Tribe person would casually produce two million G, but his eyes changed and he immediately started counting the coins.

“Indeed it’s exact, thanks! Inferior races get along well—though I doubt this kid’ll last long. Ah—but the Shikai Tribe, they do it with corpses too, right? Moving corpses with forbidden arts and going, ‘Ahn ❤ Ah~n ❤’, right?”

“……”

My patience finally snapped.

Payment was already complete, I signed the contract, and I channeled mana into the collar to renew the master-servant bond.

I’m not clever enough to just stay silent and listen to more offensive words.

――I kicked upwards into the slave trader’s fat belly.

“――Gah!?”

The trader was blown away and slammed his back into one of the tent’s poles.

I scooped up the girl, who was crouched from being whipped, in a bridal carry.

She was terribly weakened; her eyes were closed and her chest rose and fell in small, quick motions.

She was surprisingly light.

I was astonished that anyone could think to sell her as merchandise in this state.

“Ugh…!? You bastards! Kill that Shikai Tribe… d-destroy them!!”

Although I held back somewhat on the kick, the trader vomited the contents of his stomach and writhed in agony with bloodshot eyes.

The trader caught his breath, shouted angrily, and gathered his men.

――Rustle!!

The trader’s henchmen surrounded me.

Perhaps used for when slaves escape or revolt—each of them was armed with blades.

“That’s a nasty-looking caravan—one might even suspect these slaves were kidnapped through illegal means.”

“You’re in the way—get lost.”

“…!?!?”
“…!?!?”
“…!?!?”

I radiated murderous intent at those around me.

The trader’s men all started trembling and gave me a wide berth.

My Level was already 78.

Considering the average Level of A-Rank Adventurers is 50, I’ve already transcended the realm of ordinary humans.

A regular civilian who isn’t an adventurer wouldn’t stand a chance against that kind of lethal intent.

Cradling the slave girl, I left the tent behind.