02 — In the Business of Slaves and Miracles

02 — In the Business of Slaves and Miracles

Leaving the ramshackle hall in search of the market, our group found itself the center of attention wherever we went. Not that I could blame the locals for being wary of a bunch of strangers robed in white. Our look was a common sight in the Holy City, but we’d stuck out quite a bit even in Merratoni.

We couldn’t just wander around forever, so I tried asking some locals for directions, but to no avail. Everyone turned their backs on us and pretended we didn’t exist. Finally, I overheard someone mention a market and some slavers nearby.

After a bit of meandering, we found three separate buildings that sold people. The first turned us away, saying we needed an invitation to enter, and we didn’t fare much better at the second place. Shahza had gotten there before us and told them not to sell to anyone from the Healer’s Guild.

The dingy third location near the slums wasn’t our first choice, but at that point, it was our last hope. The building’s grimy appearance didn’t mean they wouldn’t have strong fighters.

“Everyone, wait for me out here. I’ll be on the lookout for strong and capable craftsmen. Anything else I should keep in mind?” I asked the group.

No one replied, so I went into the shop. The interior was, surprisingly, not as dirty as the exterior, but not exactly pretty either.

“You sell slaves here?”

“Human, eh? Don’t get many o’ you in these parts.” A vulgar sneer crept across the wolf-eared owner’s lips. “Yeah, we got slaves, but it’ll cost ya at least five gold. Got the coin?”

I wasn’t used to dealing with the sleazy business-types, but I didn’t have many options.

“Plenty,” I answered with a bit of feigned confidence. “How much for your most expensive ones?”

“Cocky little shit, eh? An elf for five platinum. That suit your fancy?”

I could tell he was eyeing my purse as we spoke, but I maintained my composure.

“Just checking the price ceiling. I hate to think you’re keeping an elf in this grungy place, though.”

“The hell you come here for? To screw with me? I’ll clean when brushin’ cobwebs makes my purse heavier, kid.”

The man was quick to change his tune when he figured money wasn’t involved.

“Shame.” I whipped out a platinum coin and held it between my fingers. “I prefer to do my shopping at places with a bit more hygiene.”

His ears perked up and his tail started to wag. “Now, sir, was all that pomp and circumstance necessary? I knew you were a good fella!”

“Show me every slave you have. I’ll clean the place up a bit too if you throw in a discount.”

The wolf-man readily agreed, rubbing his hands together with a slimy grin as he showed me inside.

Each slave had their own private cell, and men and women were separated by floor. We began the tour on the women’s floor, starting with the aforementioned elf, but every time I met eyes with one of them, they’d look away, disappointed. Doubtless, they assumed a young man like me wouldn’t have the money to buy any of them. Thankfully, they all seemed to be in decent enough condition that I didn’t feel obligated to purchase the whole lot.

We continued on until I realized I hadn’t seen any other employees around, but that trivial concern quickly left my mind.

Among the slaves I saw were many who had lost one or even several limbs, including children. It took all my self-restraint not to heal every last one of them, but I would only be helping the slaver’s business that way, so I clenched my fists and bore it.

There were slaves of just about every race I could think of: humans, dwarves, dragonewts, elves, and even beastfolk. I had to wonder how a seedy hole-in-the-wall like this turned enough of a profit to have such a wide range. Was it normal? Hard to say, since I hadn’t gotten to see the other two places.

The shop owner continued to talk my ear off about prices and deals, and how I’d never find dragonewts or elves like he had anywhere else, but it went in one ear and out the other.

“Why do they all look so lifeless?” I asked.

Many of them didn’t even seem to want to leave their cells, like they were simply tired of living. Bottaculli’s slaves hadn’t exactly been brimming with cheer, but there had still been a flicker of light in their eyes.

“They’re slaves. Is it surprising?” he replied with a raised eyebrow.

“I guess not. Show me your men next. I’ll make my decision after that.” The moment the words left my lips, I felt the air in the room change around the slaves in their cells. I ignored it and followed the shop owner.

“Right this way,” he snickered. Whether his amusement was towards me or his wares, I couldn’t say.

There were far fewer prisoners on the men’s floor than the women’s. The wolf-man’s sales pitch went on and on, but I ignored him and focused my attention on the people in front of me. Brod had taught me a certain trick for testing others’ mettle by emitting an intense aura of intimidation, and although I’d refrained from using it on the women’s floor, I let it all out here. Some of the men cowered while others returned the aura in kind with sharp glares. Out of those, I narrowed my options down to the three who didn’t even bat an eye.

“The armless dwarf, the older guy with the torn tendons in his legs, and the younger one with dark hair. I’d like to talk to them one-on-one. How much are they?”

The wolf-man deflated. They must have been some of the cheaper options.

“The dwarf used to be a top-notch blacksmith, from what I hear. Lost both his arms in an accident, so you won’t get much outta him but advice. Five gold,” he said. “The second fella might look old, but he’s middle-aged. Honest. Apparently, he knows his way around a battlefield, but his allies betrayed him. Poisoned him and cut the tendons in his legs. He won’t be doin’ any walking, but I won’t go lower than five gold after the overhead he cost me. And this dirty brat’s a prisoner of war. Found his way here, and now I’m stuck with him. He’s young, though, so twenty gold.”

If he was trying to make the hard sell, he wasn’t doing a good job of it. But I did get some valuable information from his yammering for once. Namely, that by getting the dwarf and warrior back into shape (literally) with Extra Heal, I could bring powerful and motivated allies to the guild’s side fairly easily. Her Holiness had forbidden me from using the spell, but hey, drastic times called for drastic measures.

“Noted. I’d like to speak with them now. In private, if possible. Surely that’s all right? You wouldn’t deny a customer, would you?”

He chuckled. “No problem. No problem at all!”

If I didn’t spend the money here, where would I? The slaver didn’t need to know that, of course, but still.

The armless dwarf trudged languidly into the small meeting room first. There was no life in him.

“Have a seat,” I suggested. “I just want to ask a few questions. And please answer honestly. Oh, but first let me introduce myself. My name is Luciel, and I’m an S-rank healer. Now, say you had your arms back. Do you have any skills other than smithing? Carpentry, maybe?”

The dwarf huffed. “Who d’ya think you’re talkin’ to?” A flame plumed in his once dull eyes. “I was born ta craft, boy! Blessed by the Divine Blacksmith at birth! You think bangin’ metal’s all there is ta ironwork?!”

His glare was loaded with ire. He was offended that I’d dared to question his skills. He would have no doubt caused a scene if he’d still had his arms.

“So, I take it you’re confident.”

“Best choose your next words carefully, lad.”

I was just as close to blowing this as I was to sealing the deal.

“Let me be more specific.” I locked eyes with him. “If you had your arms back, would you be willing to swear your loyalty and assist in rebuilding the local Healer’s Guild?”

The dwarf hesitated. “Maybe. If the work wasn’t too bad.” He squeezed out the words, trying and failing to hide the trembling in his voice. The spirit of a craftsman was a hard thing to snuff out.

That settles it. “What’s your name?”

“Dhoran.”

“Well, Dhoran, I have one last question. Is there anyone else here you’d like me to buy with you?”

“Why d’ya ask?”

It was hard not to notice how fidgety he’d been or the occasional glances he kept throwing towards the women’s floor.

“If you swear to use your skills for the Healer’s Guild, including assisting in the guildhall’s reconstruction and the production of weapons and armor, I promise you won’t find a better place to put them to use.” I smiled.

He paused. “You’re an S-ranker, huh? A healer? If that means the same as it does for adventurers, you’ve got money to spare.”

“You could say that. I made something of a fortune beating up foul, disgusting undead monsters for a few years.”

Dhoran closed his eyes, probably hoping to hide from the slight anguish in my expression, then quietly grunted in acknowledgment.

“No need to worry about my finances. Tell me who else you want me to buy.”

“A human-dwarf halfling. My granddaughter, Pola. Did you see her? She’s a quiet lass. Auburn hair. Only sixteen.”

His earlier nerve had vanished, raw emotion and concern winning out over pride. Family did that to people sometimes.

“I’ll look for her once I’m done meeting with the others. You have my word.”

The next to enter was the aged ex-warrior. Considering his limp legs, I’d expected him to come in on a wheelchair, but he shuffled in just fine on a pair of crutches.

I could tell at once just how well-built and strong this guy was, based on that feat alone.

“I’ll get right to the point,” I said. “I can sense how strong you are. You have the same sort of presence as my master.”

I felt the aura around him immediately change.

“What of it?” he replied.

“I hear it was your allies who did this to you. People you trusted. Are you after revenge?”

He chuckled derisively. “Revenge? Against who? An entire nation? No, my past is irrelevant. I’m more interested in hearing what kind of master could train up a healer to have that kind of physique.”

Youth seemed to return to his sagging expression. Something about him hit me in the exact same way Brod did. Maybe all fighters of that caliber shared a certain vibe.

“He’s known as the Whirlwind, if that satisfies your curiosity. Who are you, though? Actually, never mind. This back and forth won’t get us anywhere. About your legs, does the poison make them incurable?”

“So I’ve been told.” He shrank back into being the old man from earlier.

“If I help you walk again, will you swear to protect me and my companions?”

“I’m old, boy. What’s your aim?” Once again, a flame flickered in his eyes.

“I’m looking for people to guard the local Healer’s Guild and our belongings. Maybe join me and my team in training every now and then. Sound doable?”

“That’s all?”

Was that a hint of frustration I sensed?

“For the time being. Until I come up with something else we could use a hand with.”

The man chuckled, then burst into a guffaw. “Sounds like a handful! All right, if your word’s good and you make me walk again, I’ll call you liege, master, or whatever you like.”

“I hope you don’t regret saying that.”

The man’s fire had been relit, and I stopped trying to keep track of how old he appeared from one moment to the next. I was starting to wonder if it was Monsieur Luck who’d brought the two of us together after the other two slave markets had turned us away.

Just like Dhoran, I asked the older man his name and who else he wanted me to buy.

“I’m Lionel,” he answered. “And there’s a human named Nalia, and a cat-woman named Ketty I’d like you to find. Aged thirty-three and twenty-three, respectively.”

“Got it. I look forward to you returning the favor.”

“As best I can on these legs.”

My last meeting was with the young man who was about my age.

“I hear you’re a prisoner of war. Is that right?” I asked him.

“Yes. I’m the son of royalty, and the empire used me as a hostage when they invaded.” There was a passion in him, unlike the other slaves. I connected the dots and figured he must have somehow made his way here from Luburk, given their ongoing conflict with Illumasia.

“Then let me ask you this: what is your goal? Is it revenge? If so, I’m sorry, but I can’t help you with that.”

He stared at me in silence.

“I’m here to found a Healer’s Guild in this country, and I need help. Slave or not, I intend to treat everyone involved humanely, so if you can promise me you’ll live your life to that end, I’ll welcome you. If not, you’ll have to find someone else to seek retribution through. It’s your choice.”

Safety first was my number one policy. I wasn’t in the market for grudges or enemies.

The young man contemplated this with a grim expression, then asked, “How long would you keep me for?”

I was at a loss. I hadn’t had the chance to even consider the matter and had no answer ready for him. Lies wouldn’t work; that much was obvious.

We sat in silence for a while, until I finally replied, “Truthfully, I don’t think I’d be able to relieve you of duty any time soon. I have no idea how long it’ll take to get a guild up and running, to say nothing of managing new clinics. I honestly can’t offer any sort of time frame right now.”

I’d done my research on slaves after the incident with Bottaculli in Merratoni. There was no condition that any slave, other than those bound by debt or misdemeanor crimes, could meet that would free them. Only the master’s will could accomplish that.

“I...” The man hung his head and clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white.

I asked several more questions, but his light had gone out. I’d have to leave him there, and I knew it. All I could offer was a prayer that he’d find a kind owner and a bit of magic to clean up his messy hair.

“Thank you, sir,” he said in a faint whisper. “You can leave me here. Please don’t buy me.”

And with that, he left the room. I knew that if I had bought him, the void in his heart would never have been filled. The darkness in him would only have festered.

“Some things are beyond our control,” I muttered, staring at the door he had departed through. “If I had even half the heart of the archbishops, maybe I could have done something to help him, even a little.”

After a moment, I left the room as well.

The slaver was waiting just outside the room, hands together, grin still wide.

“I’ll have the dwarf and the warrior,” I said. “But first I want to look at the women again for a few extra hands.”

“Your business is much appreciated,” he sneered.

We headed for the women’s floor, and I already knew who to look out for. The halfling, a human, and a cat-woman, I repeated in my mind. I intended to purchase them for the same reason as the two men rather than as attendants for the male slaves, and I would have much rather had them (individuals spoken for by the other two) than anyone else. Say what you will about filling the slaver’s pockets, but if nothing else, I was sure their addition would help to win over everyone’s trust.

Once we arrived, I scanned the cells, keeping their descriptions in mind, and quickly spotted my targets.

“Can I ask them a few questions?” I asked the slaver.

“By all means.” He’d clearly realized that I was looking for individuals related to the first two men and was almost definitely going to rip me off, but I let it go. Like it or not, it was a necessary expense.

I stopped in front of the girl with burnt brown hair first. She was tiny, barely coming up to my chest. “Are you Pola?” I asked softly. “You can nod if you don’t want to speak.”

She hesitated, then bobbed her head.

“I’m Luciel. Dhoran asked me to find you. Don’t worry, I’m not going to make you do anything you aren’t comfortable with, okay? I just want you to help Dhoran with his work.”

“Grandpa’s coming?” the girl asked stoically. Her face barely moved when she spoke, but I sensed her guard lowering.

“That’s right. I’m going to fix his arms.”

She tilted her head. “Are you a god?”

“I’m afraid not,” I replied with an awkward smile. “Will you help me rebuild the Healer’s Guild with your grandpa? Can you promise to do that?”

“Promise. As long as grandpa’s there.”

I detected a hint of a smile on her face.

Next, I found the girls Lionel had mentioned: Nalia and Ketty. Their cells were right next to each other.

“I’m Luciel,” I told them. “I’m here to buy you both at Lionel’s request. You won’t be forced into anything you aren’t comfortable doing. Just menial work. Any questions?”

“Is Sir Lionel well?” the human asked.

“Yes. His tendons have been cut, and he can’t walk, but I intend to fix that. Not to worry.”

“Please do what you can.”

“This kitty’s with Sir Lionel!” the cat-girl mewed. “I go where he goes!”

“As do I. So long as I’m by his side, your wish is my command.”

Okay, who was this guy? There was more to the old man than he’d let on, but I put that aside for the moment. They’d do fine as a trio.

“Slaver,” I called out, “I’ll take these three, plus the dwarf and the older man I spoke to earlier. How much?”

“Let’s say...one platinum piece,” he answered.

I knew he was gonna rip me off—wait, that wasn’t so bad. Female slaves were supposed to be a lot more expensive, but this was about twenty less gold than expected.

“That’s cheaper than what I was planning on. Why do me a favor?”

“Ya see, I get the feeling you and I are gonna get to know each other real well in the future, that’s all. Anyone in the market for this many slaves at once is bound to need more down the line.”

I had to give him some credit; he had the sleazy smirk and hand-rubbing look down. Sadly, though, I didn’t see our relationship going any further than today, as sound as his logic was.

After some awkward stalling, I said, “I suppose so. I wasn’t planning on buying the girls, but if money’s all it takes to motivate the others, that’s fine with me. Who knows, maybe I’ll find use for more later on.”

“A very real possibility, sir!” he exclaimed. “Listen, there’s an auction comin’ up in a few months. Take this invitation. It’ll get you in.”

A slave auction? Run by beastfolk? “Um, okay. Why me, though? Do you give this to everyone who shops here?”

“No, not at all. Not just anyone can join. They ask me to hand ’em out to folks with coin to burn.”

“And what do you get out of it?” A merchant doing favors without merit meant they were either insane or it was a trap. There was no in-between.

“We businessmen get a little ten percent kickback for every slave our invitees buy. You win a few bids, you keep shopping here...we all profit.”

I got the feeling he wasn’t lying, but I still didn’t trust the guy. His personal matters hardly concerned me, though, so I bought what I’d come for, then left the establishment.

The team was a little surprised to see me emerge with five people in tow, but I left the explanations for later and led us back to the guild with the knights carrying Lionel.

Once we reached the guildhall, I filled everyone in and wasted no time fixing up Dhoran and Lionel with Extra Heal and Recover.

And then suddenly everyone around me was kneeling.

“Er, what’s...” I stuttered. “What’s going on here? Why am I being worshipped?”

Don’t get me wrong, I was aware of how astonishing the ability to restore lost limbs was, but still. Dhoran swung his regenerated arms around and clenched his hands in disbelief, while Lionel, back on his feet and without a single scar left on his legs, took several timid steps and hops as he reacclimated. Unable to contain herself, Pola leaped into her grandfather’s new arms, and Lionel’s girls soon followed suit.

The knights who’d come with me from the Church had known about the Extra Heal spell but had never seen it in action before. And no matter how much I protested, they would not stop praying to me. Not until their influence had spread to the slaves and I was thoroughly flustered.

Finally, after numerous pleas, they knocked it off, and I had everyone introduce themselves to the new recruits. Even then, though, they wouldn’t ditch their annoying reverence towards me. It was draining, to say the least, and I suddenly gained a newfound respect for people who had the energy to live on a pedestal. Timid old me was far from used to that sort of life.

“Is everyone done? Good. Here’s the plan. Newcomers, this will be your home and workplace from now on.” I looked around to make sure everyone was listening. “This hall has three floors and a basement. The third floor will be the guildmaster’s room, the second will be the knights’ and healers’ quarters, and this floor will be the reception area. The basement storerooms will have to do for your own quarters.”

The slaves nodded.

“Dhoran,” I continued, “can I leave you in charge of getting this shack back into shape? Fair warning, it’s been abandoned for years now.”

“Consider it done,” the dwarf replied. “And we’re slaves, lad. I’ll thank ya to nix the formalities.”

“Likewise,” Lionel remarked.

They sure had gotten more relaxed since being healed. Maybe a little too relaxed? Whatever, it was probably just their way of showing gratitude.

“If you insist, er, I mean, sure. Will do. I’m not actually used to being overly casual, so if I slip back into polite mode, just ignore me.”

They nodded and acknowledged my request.

“Anyway, back to the main topic. I’m sure you can see the holes in the ceiling and floor, Dhoran. Let me know what supplies you’ll need.”

“That I will.”

“Oh, and I forgot to mention there are three storerooms downstairs. Dhoran and Pola will share one; so will Ketty and Nalia, and Lionel will take the smallest for himself.”

“Understood,” Lionel replied.

“Your job will be guard duty. From what I understand, this city isn’t the most orderly, and we’re in the slums. I’m planning to keep the horses inside for a while since it’s too risky to leave them out, but we can’t do that forever.”

“So it’s stable duty, is it?”

“For the time being. Until we can add a real stable of some kind to the hall, but just now, we have no room to expand. Give any ideas you have to Dhoran. And that goes for everyone in the Order too. Think of this place as our fortress. We’ve all got to do our part to keep it running.”

“Yes, sir!” my team shouted, smiles all around.

They quickly lost themselves in thought, excited about the prospect of a little home improvement. Dhoran shot his hand up with a glint in his eyes.

“Something to add?”

“Aye. If it’s land you need, there’s plenty of it underground. All I’d need are some magic stones, a few spells, and I’ll make that basement as big as you want. I’ll need wood ’n iron if you’re lookin’ to build tall, though.”

“You can do that with magic stones?”

I was a bit confused. How was he going to dig up that much space without causing the entire building to collapse? And what was he going to do with all the dirt? You couldn’t just explain every little detail away with “because magic.”

Actually, scratch that. You totally could.

“We dwarves make our way by borrowin’ the powers of the spirits of earth and fire. There’s no land we can’t manipulate at our whim, no iron we can’t forge, lad—er, sir.”

“But grandpa, you blew up the forge synthesizing ore one time,” Pola noted quietly.

Dhoran blushed, awkwardly scratching his cheek and looking around at nothing.

“So, basically,” I said, “you can make the basement bigger with enough magic stones. Is that right?”

“Aye, er, yessir. Best you leave that sorta work to dwarves ’less you want a guild o’ rubble. We can hear the spirits in the earth, dig deeper and safer than other races.”

All I was hearing was that dwarves were sort of OP. What was stopping them from tunneling underneath entire cities and making nations crumble from the bottom-up?

Note to self: don’t mess with dwarves.

I gave him a nervous smile. “Good to know. Let’s go with that for now. Keep things slow and steady. Moving on. Who here can cook?”

Nalia was the only one who met my gaze with a nod. Ketty and Pola avoided my eyes like the plague.

“Noted. I do some cooking myself, so I’ll have you help me, Nalia.”

“Yes, Master.”

I realized I’d neglected to consider the nature of our relationship. “Master” was a bit heavy, so I went quiet and considered it for a moment.

“You know, I never liked all the formalities people used back at the Church. ‘Mister’ this, ‘mister’ that. Just call me Luciel, or chief, or something like that.”

A cacophony of chiefs and sirs followed in response. With the basics settled, I figured we needed to take a shopping trip to get everyone out of their rags. But a group of nearly twenty made that a challenge.

“We need to stock up on clothes, beds, and food. Lionel, you up for bodyguard duty?”

“Hold on a minute,” Piaza interjected. “Why is a slave taking our place? We’re your guard, sir.”

The other knights looked similarly vexed. Still, I felt safer with the guy who reminded me of my master.

“Hmm, well, I’ll explain later. For now, I’m taking Lionel.”

“If you say so,” said Piaza resignedly.

“Thank you for understanding. So, Lionel, what’s your specialty?”

A spark flashed in his eyes. “I can wield near any weapon, but I’m most proficient with a greatsword or longspear.”

What was with this guy and fighting? Was I just crazy? Honestly, he reminded me of my master more and more by the minute. Only he was much brawnier.

“All right, I’ll lend you the sword my master gave me. Will that work?”

“Perfectly.”

“The rest of you, start getting everything set up, including the magic items. I’ll leave it all here.”

I noticed Pola perk up at the word “magic” while everyone else sounded off.

“I’m not sure about leaving old Lionel by himself so soon after recovering,” Ketty chimed in. “Take me along! I’m a disaster in the kitchen, but my claws are sharp!”

I hesitated for a moment, then remembered we were in a country of beastfolk and that buying clothes likely meant buying women’s underwear. I quickly welcomed her company.

Lionel took my holy silver longsword and eyed it carefully, then sheathed it before I had the time to think much about it. He looked at me and said, “Your master cares about you quite a bit.”

I smiled and nodded.

Later, while I unloaded everyone’s things from my magic bag, Nalia took care of Lionel’s shaggy mess of a beard (there wasn’t enough time to trim his hair). When she finished, the man who stood in Lionel’s place was a proper, dignified warrior. The entire room froze upon seeing his transformation, and I was no exception.

Before we set out, I gave him and Ketty my old robes, and then off we went.

We walked from stall to stall, buying vegetables and fruits and the like where we could, which proved somewhat difficult thanks to Shahza’s influence. Most of our shopping was done at the few places that would sell to us. It would’ve been all too easy for them to starve us out. Worst case scenario, I’d have had to contact Shurule for supplies. Dhoran had asked for as much iron as we could find, including weapons, tools, and appliances, be they shoddy or not, as well as lumber, which I was sure we’d gotten scammed on.

“Come again!”

At last, our shopping was complete.

“That was a lot more difficult than it needed to be,” I muttered with a sigh. “At this rate, we won’t last long enough to even get the chance to prove ourselves.”

Suddenly, Lionel and Ketty stopped walking.

“I figured they’d pounce sooner or later.”

“What a laughable attempt at tailing. Bold for the rabble, though, I will say. Ready?”

“Always,” Ketty purred.

The two drew their blades, and although I was still a step behind, it was obvious enough that battle was coming.

I cast Area Barrier and ordered, “If they’re not monsters, avoid killing them!”

They nodded and took positions at my front and rear. All at once, enemies armed to the teeth leaped from the shadows of the surrounding buildings and drew their weapons...unfortunately for them.

Lionel re-sheathed his sword and started bashing attackers with the scabbard, throwing a few good punches in between dodging blows. “Come on! Give me a challenge!”

He was like a video game boss made flesh. Ketty, on the other hand, overwhelmed them with speed that I could just barely keep up with. Slipping about while blades slashed through the air, she clocked the attackers one by one with well-placed jabs, roundhouse kicks to the face, and some slaps with the flat of her blade for good measure.

“Don’t worry, we’re not cuttin’ ’em! They’re just taking a li’l nap!”

How in the world had these two wound up as slaves?

Our assailants were dealt with in no time at all, then comically tied together in one big group with rope I provided from my bag once I’d finished staring in shock. The fact that we’d just been attacked hardly even registered after seeing all that.

I’d decided to take our assailants to the guild for questioning when Lionel stopped me.

“We should bring them to Yenice’s head of state, Luciel. They’re bound to cry ‘kidnapping’ if we take them to our own headquarters.”

Not a bad idea. I took his advice and we set off, Lionel dragging the thirteen attackers behind us. I was well-used to the fact that levels and stats made judging people by their appearances impossible in this world, but even so, the sight of him lugging the weight of over a dozen men was one to behold. One singular question repeated itself in my mind: who in the world was this guy?

Ketty stayed on high alert as we continued through town, ignoring wide eyes and shocked gasps, towards what looked like the largest estate in the city, which we’d seen when we’d first arrived. It was about five minutes from the market and seemed like our best bet for finding Shahza and his troops.

As we approached the building, the guards at the gate froze, stupefied. And truth be told, I couldn’t blame them. If I’d been in their shoes—the only thing standing between a group of strangers dragging a dozen bodies and their goal—I’d probably have fainted.

I focused and straightened my posture. “I’m Luciel, S-rank healer. We were just attacked during our shopping trip, and I’m here to raise concerns about public safety. Can I please speak to Shahza?”

The soldiers immediately rushed through the gate in a panic.

“We weren’t told to wait, so I assume that means we can enter.” Leaving me no time to process his logic, Lionel stepped inside, the procession of bodies close behind him.

“Yup, that’s our Lionel!” Ketty followed him without hesitation. “What’s up, Chief? Let’s get movin’!”

I wasn’t big on the idea of standing outside on my own, so I hurried after them.

“Isn’t this...I don’t know, trespassing?”

“How so?” Lionel asked from a short distance ahead. “You’re an S-rank healer. The one and only in the world, I might add.”

“Yeah, sure, but is that relevant?”

“You’d be well within your rights to turn this entire debacle into a diplomatic incident. Your hosts should be counting their lucky stars that you’re willing to settle it amicably!” He let out a hearty roar of laughter.

I thought it once, and I’ll think it again: who the heck is this guy? It was just unfathomable to me that such a man could have ended up as a slave.

While I lost myself in my thoughts, Lionel marched on. Meanwhile, Ketty was off in her own little world as well, humming like she’d done this a million times before.

As we crossed the courtyard and came to the building entrance, Shahza and several beastfolk came barreling out, Sheila’s father, Orga, among them.

Lionel stared them down. “My master, the world’s one and only S-rank healer, was attacked!” he roared. “Attacked while out on business in your city! You will right this wrong, here and now!”

Shahza cowered like a house cat, and the others hung their heads. The way Lionel carried himself, the way he commanded the situation like a hero from a story—now that was a true protagonist. The seven politicians and three soldiers in front of us were speechless.

“Silence will not save you,” Lionel continued, his voice quieter now but no less intimidating. “We demand reparations. We demand that these hooligans be brought to justice.”

“Y-You have our deepest apologies,” Shahza finally replied, dodging the older man and looking straight at me. “I am appalled that someone would attempt to harm you on your first day, Sir Healer. I assure you, these criminals will pay with their lives, and you will be compensated... Er, may we get back to you on that?”

Lionel turned and deferred to me.

“Honestly, after something like this, I should really report back to HQ.” I rubbed my chin. The situation didn’t feel right, like Shahza was up to something. His earlier panic had vanished, and Orga (who, by contrast, had come all the way to Shurule just to request a Healer’s Guild in Yenice), looked utterly beaten down. Clearly, Yenice wasn’t all of one mind.

“Okay, how about this? You don’t need to put anyone to death; just enslave them for their crimes. You cover branding costs, they help rebuild the guild, and we make this incident public. Also, I want you to tell the businesses to sell to us. We’re not looking for handouts, mind you, but we’ve had a rough time finding supplies. Lastly, I want the area around the guild to be maintained. That’s all I’m asking for, and we can brush the rest under the rug. Oh, and I’ll expect those reparations too.”

Capital punishment was one way to solve things, I guess, but having more hands for guard duty would help to ease the pressure on Lionel and the knights. We’d be able to have round-the-clock shifts. And making more shops available to us would help keep us from having to buy up entire store stocks, not to mention provide us with more options. On top of all that, more land around the guildhall meant more room to expand.

Lionel looked somewhat dissatisfied with my demands, but I wasn’t here to strain relations, and making the incident public would put us in a strong enough position with Shahza already.

The other beastfolk kept their distance from the tiger-man. I could feel his rage emanating from where I stood. But none of my requests were unreasonable, and his hands were tied.

“Of course, sir. We agree to your conditions.” He kept his head lowered, but I didn’t need to see it to know what kind of face he was making.

“You’re lucky my master is so merciful. Do not expect it twice,” Lionel said venomously. “One of you, come with us to the slaver.”

I really didn’t want to make Lionel angry. The more time I spent with him, the more my curiosity grew.

“Wait, I don’t recognize you,” Shahza said to Lionel. “Who are you?”

“Me? I’m just a servant to my lord, sir.”

His bellowing laughter echoed through the courtyard.

Along with the wolf-man called Gralga (incidentally, the one who had stabbed me in the slums a few years back), we returned to the slave market.

Once we were out of earshot of the soldiers, and without turning to face me, he whispered, “I’m sorry your visit is going like this.”

“Has something changed in Yenice over the past few years?” I asked quietly.

“It’s more recent than that.” He nodded, resolving himself, then continued his explanation.

At the time of his visit to Shurule, Orga had been Yenice’s head of state, but when he’d returned and his term had expired, the next to take his place was a dragonewt. And unfortunately, dragonewts possessed extraordinary self-healing abilities, so the value of healers was largely lost on their kind. Medicinals took far greater priority on account of their ability to cure diseases (something healers couldn’t do), and when the time came to organize and allocate land, the Healer’s Guild’s had been moved to the slums to quiet the masses.

When the dragonewt’s term ended, a certain tiger-man had taken his place thanks to backroom deals and bribes from his kind. And, although not on the level of dragonewts, tiger-folk excelled at regeneration and combat as well.

Fast forward a year, and the prospects of the guild’s revival had been looking grim until circumstances changed. A nearby labyrinth that had been inactive for years suddenly started teeming with monsters again, and the average medicinal potion couldn’t keep up with the severity of the injuries the adventurers and soldiers were sustaining. To make matters worse, each poison and every variant of paralysis required its own unique antidote. Healers were the rational solution.

Unease surfaced in the corner of my mind. A labyrinth reactivating? It couldn’t be. There were supposed to be forty years left. Or were things already in motion? Forty years couldn’t be all the time I had, could it?

It didn’t take us long to reach the first slaver’s shop.

“Wait, these people wouldn’t sell to us without an invitation last time.”

“It’s okay. They weren’t told to avoid you, they’re just very careful about who they do business with,” Gralga explained. He knocked on the door and an elderly wolf-eared man came out. “I’m glad to see you doing well, good elder.”

The man looked us over, clearly remembering our faces, then turned to Gralga. “You brought a crowd, boy.”

“This is Saint Weirdo, the man who saved our lives in the Holy City. These fools tied up here tried to attack him. We were going to put them to death, but the Saint decided to show mercy and brand them instead.”

“A weirdo and a saint, eh? What’s a man like you need slaves for?” His aged eyes felt all-seeing. No lie would go unnoticed with him.

“I intend to order them to never harm the Healer’s Guild, its clinics, or its assets,” I said. “I’m going to provide them with food and beds in exchange for services as guards for the guild.”

“That’ll do. Come inside.”

The criminals each received a binding crest, and the deed was soon done.

“That’s all of them.”

“Bill the cost to the state, if you don’t mind, elder,” Gralga informed him.

“Will do. Now, before you go, is the Saint in the mood for some shopping?”

“I’m sure I could find a use for them, but the guildhall doesn’t have the space to accommodate more slaves right now. I’ll keep you in mind if the need ever arises, though.”

“I won’t get my hopes up.”

After we left, and before Gralga went back to Shahza, he made sure to let me know that old man Lerga had taken a liking to me.

“Listen well, slaves!” Lionel proclaimed. “Obey orders and you will be treated with dignity. Disobey and face the consequences. The choice is yours. Now, march! We’re returning to the Healer’s Guild!”

Ketty led our procession, followed by me, then the new slaves, with Lionel bringing up the rear, his intimidating aura keeping everyone in line on the way.

Two knights stood at the guildhall’s entrance.

“Thanks for holding down the fort,” I told them. “Anything to report?”

“Only a few curious glances. Nothing peculiar.”

“Well, we’ve lucked into getting thirteen new potential guards for the night shift. You guys’ll get some rest soon.”

The pair smiled. Graveyard shifts really were the worst.

“That’s good to hear,” one of them replied.

“Hang in there for now, guys.”

“Yes, sir!”

Dhoran was standing just inside when we entered, as if he’d been waiting for us the whole time.

“Long trip, was it?” he asked. “I gave the basement a bit of an upgrade while you were out. Forgot to ask ya to get magic stones for hardenin’ the ground and whatnot, but the foundation’s sturdy enough for now. Find those supplies?”

“It’s all in my bag. I’ll dump it downstairs. Also, if it’s magic stones you need, will these do?”

I took out some of the gems I’d collected in the labyrinth beneath the Church.

The dwarf nodded. “Aye, these’re dark-type, but we can purify ’em overnight in holy water. Got any?”

“Purification, you say?”

I worked my magic, and the stones turned from a blackish-green to a light blue.

“By the divines, you’re full o’ surprises, lad!” Dhoran took one from me and marveled at the results. “These’ll work just fine.”

I smiled and turned to everyone behind me. “Lionel, Ketty, good work today. You can keep the weapons I gave you. Once we get everything unloaded downstairs, take a moment to rest. Just keep an eye on the new arrivals. Now, new slaves: be grateful that Dhoran’s giving you all places to sleep. I expect you to earn your keep, so as long as you do that, you have my word that no one will go hungry.”

With that, we headed down the stairs and into a basement that I hardly recognized. The place was enormous. “A bit of an upgrade” was the understatement of the century. I couldn’t stop looking around at everything while we laid out all the wood, iron, and other supplies from my magic bag. I also offered Dhoran a hundred or so purified magic stones for further renovations.

“I’m trusting you, but no dangerous stunts, okay?” I warned him. “I’ll grab everyone when dinner’s ready. Until then, they’re all yours.”

“Consider your wish granted!”

I was just asking a favor...

I had way too much on my plate to spend time nitpicking at the moment, so I went back upstairs to start on dinner.

＊

Ever since losing his arms, Dhoran had become horribly bitter. He’d given up hope, unable to see how a life without crafting could be worth living. But then along came a young healer, and suddenly he had purpose again. He hadn’t been fooling himself, though. He’d known for so long that no amount of magic could return what he had lost.

But little did he know, this particular healer was a miracle worker. When all had seemed lost, he had been given his life back. A job. Confidence. It wasn’t smithing work, but Dhoran had been given a second chance to create, to construct. What Luciel didn’t know was just how capable the dwarf truly was or the intensity with which his passion burned now that he was in a veritable crafter’s heaven.

The Healer’s Guild was in for some rather...extreme modifications.