Chapter 82 - Kill the Auctioneer

It was the middle of the night when Ashe woke up. She’d tried very hard to go to sleep in the middle of the day and had taken one of Jason’s minor sleeping potions without his knowledge in order to do it, and it’d paid off.

Ashe yawned, stretched, and fumbled around in the dark for her shirt. Her stomach growled in irritation at not having been fed for so long, and she grudgingly stood up to walk to the door of her room. She still didn’t know where her shirt was but she didn’t really care too much, she’d have time to find it and get her clothes on after she got the others up.

They had work to do.

She stopped as she placed her hand on the door’s handle, hearing activity just outside. She turned around and saw that Izumi was still asleep in the other bed. Ashe’s brows furrowed, wondering which of her companions had beaten her to the punch at this hour of the night and she slowly opened the door to not make any noise.

The cold floorboards creaked slightly under the weight of her bare feet, but it wasn’t enough to give away her position. Peeking through the crack forming as the door was left just slightly ajar, Ashe squinted in the dim light of a candle placed on the common room table. She grinned when she saw who it was.

Trey was sodomizing their Amazonian slave Juila across the room on her cot. In one hand he had a wine bottle that he was chugging from, and in the other hand he had a fist full of the slave’s hair. The tanned skin of Jui’s asscheeks rippled as he drunkenly pleasured himself with the pained women underneath him, but other than the involuntary feminine grunts of discomfort she didn’t complain or even speak. Juila likely knew full well that her life had been saved by the same asshole currently humping her, and that without his protection she’d likely end up in a much worse situation than the one she was already in. That, and she’d actively sought out becoming Trey’s thrall - so she’d been trying extra hard lately to keep Trey happy.

Ashe watched from the shadows with keen interest. She didn’t find men very attractive, so Trey wasn’t what she was focusing on. However, Juila’s current predicament was something of a power play on Trey’s end… and that turned Ashe on. Looking over her shoulder to make sure the one behind her were still asleep before placing her fingers around her clitoris, she exhaled. She then stiffened slightly and narrowed her eyes while making circular motion with her fingers and listening to the ongoing sex in the adjacent room. Keeping her focus on Juila, she bit her lip and began to grope her own breasts with her left hand.

First hand porn was always nice to wake up to.

Then it hit her. What the fuck was Trey doing DRINKING?!

Anger clouded her mind and she was immediately turned off. Flinging the door open and angrily stomping into the room to startle both Trey and Juila, she stopped in front of where Trey was mounted atop his slave and folded her arms with a glare.

“What the fuck is that?”

Trey’s eyebrows raised, following her pointing finger to the wine bottle in his hand. “This?”

“Yes, fucktard. Why are you drinking right before our mission? What the fuck? We need to reschedule this, I’m not-“

Ashe was stopped short as Trey handed her the bottle. “Chill Ashe, this is water. I was just finding a way to relax before we go… my nerves are on edge.”

Confused and keenly aware of her friend’s eyes lingering on her nude figure, Ashe sniffed the bottle and then tasted it. It was indeed water. Trey hadn’t been drinking alcohol at all.

She bit her lip, apologized with an embarrassed whisper, and headed back into her room. Closing the door behind her and double face-palming, she cursed herself and hurried to get dressed.

***

The market at night had a different feel to it than it did during the day. It was also a lot more dangerous. Market stalls were usually busy and thriving, but now they were empty and deserted amidst a forest of wood and stone. Shadows outlined their passage under the starlit heavens and moonlight guided their way in the dark.

Except for Trey and Napoleon - they didn’t need the moonlight. Both of them were quite accustomed to seeing in the dark, Trey even more so than his imp.

“You have gained 1 level in the skill Sneak.”

The pens and cages were secured by a small army of mercenaries. Patrols were regular and the pens encompassed an area Ashe estimated to be 80 yards in length and 80 yards in width. The pens had stakes and barbed wire wrapped around their enclosures with the large cages scattered across the center, having a couple slaves per cage and each shackled to the bars. There was no barrier against the elements, no room for privacy. Just a sea of guard patrols, crudely constructed wooden enclosures, metal bars, the auctioning platforms and chained slaves. In the center of it all was a barracks, built two stories high where Ronnie the auctioneer slept along with his hired men.

Karus and the three large, bulky minotaurs were kept in the back and hidden in an alley with Rivia and Izumi. Izumi was setting up her cannon and planting the supports into the ground, having tested it out again earlier that day and being very impressed with the results.

The only problem with it was that it had some serious kick to it and fired slowly, once she shot it off there would be another 30-50 seconds before she could use it again… but the power was immense and had even carved through multiple lined up trees in the test runs.

Then there was Atharost, flying high overhead and keeping his flames off while watching them advance below. His job was to send images into Trey’s head through the master-minion link and focus in on enemies they couldn’t spot, as well as direct them to the right area. Boxamoth was kept inside Atharost’s body for now, but if it came to a fight - the elemental familiar would come out. Lastly was Toady, who was positioned in another alley not far off and camouflaged as best he could to match the surrounding colors of the dark corridor. If Trey hadn’t known better, he’d not have seen the gigantic oblivion toad even with his night vision.

Regardless, they were the backup in case things went awry.

The forward group were those that could sneak about more easily. Ashe, Napoleon, and Trey were already advancing to the last line of abandoned market stalls before the slave pens and patrols. With them were a number of minor sleeping potions they’d taken from Jason’s stash – promising to pay him back and leaving a note in place of what they’d taken.

There was no way they’d be able to fight through this without serious losses. The hired mercenaries were all over level 10, a couple of them getting up even past level 60. The mercs for the most part were rogues, warriors, thugs, and man-at-arms for their classes, but there were definitely a few magic casters or even priests. If it were to come to a full-blown fight, Trey’s group would very likely lose. So this had to be a stealth mission, and if it failed they needed to get out fast.

Ashe did a doublecheck on her equipment. Smoke bombs, sleeping potions, a couple health potions, bolts, two crossbows, two daggers, and a single shrapnel bomb that Izumi had hastily made before they’d left for the mission. It’d been a prototype based on the papers she’d gotten from the Labasta ruins in Ornthas, and none of them were sure if it’d work.

It at least couldn’t hurt to try.

Trey looked her way and nodded to affirm her that he was ready. “Stick with the plan?”

She nodded. “Stick with the plan.”

The patrols were set in groups of 5 and did regular rounds in their designated areas. Two patrols were assigned to each area and took turns walking around while the other partnered group sat down at their rest stop. The rest areas were just a couple tables, chairs, and any food or refreshments they had on hand. Right now the closest rest area had three gruff unshaven mercenaries leveled 36, 28, 24, 25, and 52. All of them were drinking ale and playing cards on the perimeter of the staked slave pens and were quite relaxed considering they were in Teretog.

No doubt they were relaxed... because they knew they had hundreds of reinforcements not far off, and if they cried for help it wouldn’t be long before they got it.

Trey, Ashe and Napoleon watched their movements for a long time and after two hours of sitting there found out how it all worked. They went in approximately 1 hour shifts, one held down the rest station at the border and the other patrolled the inside between pens - and then encircled the perimeter of the pens entirely before coming back around. According to Atharost’s perspective in the sky, there were four rest stations eight patrols – four always at the rest stations and four either walking the perimeter or the insides where the cages and slave pens were. The images from Trey’s ifrit also showed him there were a total of 16 different slave pens made of wooden stakes and barbed wire, each with 5 boxed metal cages. Each cage had 2 to 6 slaves chained to the side of the cage, with most of them either asleep or being fucked with literally or figuratively by the guards. Then there was the wooden two-story barracks in the center of it all.

Thankfully they didn’t have to wait long after those two hours to see an opening.

“Hagar is that you!? Get over here you lazy ass!” One of the mercs stood up, half drunk, and strode over to one of his friends from the incoming rounds. The other four mercs at the table also joined him, laughing and bragging to each other about some sort of game involving a ball and rope.

Ashe nudged Napoleon and gave him two sleeping potions, whispering into his ear. “Go!”

The loud bastards had a jolly old time clasping hands and shooting the shit as Napoleon silently slunk over towards the rest area. The imp slipped behind a wooden leg of the table just as one of the mercs came back to grab some food, heading back over a second later.

Trey’s heartbeat was racing. He really didn’t want Napoleon to be seen… and soon the imp popped the corks off the two sleeping potions and poured the contents into their drinks. Quickly hopping down off the table and scurrying back from the illuminating torchlight, Napoleon stopped to lean in against Trey while panting.

Trey grinned and stroked Napoleon’s large ears gingerly, the little demonic shit had done it no problem. He could certainly tell the little imp’s heart rate was sky high though and he took the time to whisper an encouraging compliment. “Good fucking job Napoleon! Awesome work.”

The little imp lifted his eyes and smiled devilishly back. “I drop potions in drinks! They sleep sleep!”

“Yes. They sleep sleep.” Ashe giggled as the imp clapped his tiny but sinister clawed hands together and gave a quiet yet sadistic evil laugh.

Watching the merc group say farewell to the rounding patrol of their friends, they then waited. Within another fifteen minutes all of the mercs stationed here had passed out where they sat in their chairs.

“Good shit.” Trey got up and shadowstepped directly to where the torch was holstered in one of the wooden stakes making up the first of the slave pens. Taking it out of the metal slot and dunking the torch into a jug of water, he motioned for the others to follow.

Ashe pulled out one of her long daggers as she came up to the table, cupped the first man’s mouth with one hand and pulled up on his head. Stabbing her dagger into his neck and violently slitting it open, she felt him come awake again just momentarily and begin to struggle… before his groggy struggling stopped and he slunk down in death.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“You have gained 1 level in the skill Small Blades. You have gained 1 level in the skill Assassination. You have gained 1 overall level.” The mechanical voice echoed into her head like the beat of a drum.

She moved on to the next. Trey was doing the same on the other side of the table with his claws materializing and ripping out one throat at a time, until all five of them were very dead. Blood dripped from the table onto the ground in a running faucet of crimson in the meager moonlight, and they didn’t waste anymore time moving further in.

Trey’s head then echoed with a new notification. “You have gained XP. You have gained 1 level in Assassination.”

Trey signaled for them to follow as he navigated his way through the small maze of large pens via the images Atharost continued to send him. Coming to a stop, he pressed up against the wooden stakes of the third enclosure to his back as Atharost signaled he was nearing a patrol.

They hid themselves well in the recess of the shadows, waiting for their enemies to pass. Torchlight, footsteps and laughter approached them from the left and a couple seconds later another patrol of 5 walked past them and continued to their right. As the torchlight and voices died away, Trey crept forward into the dark and went on straight ahead.

Where were all the patrols? He’d seen a couple on the perimeter and they definitely took their sweet fucking time moving around, but shouldn’t there still be more of them?

He turned another corner around one of the next pens, slinking along until he came up to an ajar gate leading into the enclosure the enclosure. Peering around and hearing the muffled sobbing of a woman, he quickly saw for himself what Atharost had pointed out earlier. The guards were regularly having their way with the slaves and the ones who weren’t having sex with the prisoners were either smoking or talking while lounging about.

This was typical of most mercenaries he’d met here in the Lawless Lands. Lazy as hell and bad at their jobs.

Trey moved across the gated entrance to the slave pen as fast as he could, as did the others, and continued on another dozen yards before coming to another intersection. Another left took them closer to the barracks than he’d like to have gone, but it was still so dark that it was very unlikely anyone would have seen them unless they were to bring out their own light source or walked up right next to them.

Coming back around and stopping at the enclosure of wooden stakes Trey was targeting, Trey gave the other two a signal that this was it.

“You got the lockpicks?” Trey asked quietly.

Ashe gave a thumbs up and jingled a pouch at her waist. “Got em.”

“Your minion Napoleon has gained 1 level in the skill Sneak.”

Napoleon snickered with delight, having the time of his life sneaking around like this. “I grow level level in sneak!”

The two Earthborn chuckled softly and Trey gingerly tiptoed to the gate. Finding it slightly ajar already, he peered inside. To his annoyance there were already people in here harassing the slaves like he’d seen earlier, and his frustration began to rise even more when he saw one of the mercs mercilessly beating and torturing the man he’d come to collect with a hot iron.

“We’re going to have to kill them, and quickly.”

Ashe nodded in response and drew out both handheld crossbows. She’d become quite a shot dual-wielding them with the first go in their fights, but after that initial attack she would have to sheath one to reload the other. Still, it would mean she could probably take out two opponents rather quickly if her aim was on point. That would leave only three more.

Trey thought about how to go about this without letting his targets scream to raise the alarm just as he heard the prisoner inside let out a scream of his own.

He shifted his weight in thought. Perhaps no one would even notice. Perhaps the others would think their comrades only to be torturing more slaves. He looked to the right and then to the left to clarify this, and waited another couple minutes amidst the continued begging and screams of the captive he’d come for, only to see not one of the other patrols come by to inspect it.

He chuckled malevolently and his tail writhed around to lash at the ground in anticipation of the killing to come. Sithis was spurring him on to do it now, but he resisted in order to share the plan with Ashe and his imp.

“I’m going to rush the nearest merc, cut off his head so he can’t yell out, and immediately shadowstep into the cage to deal with the mercenary who thought it fun to torture my thrall-to-be.” He pointed to Ashe. “I want you to take out the two leaning in against the cage. Can you headshot both of them at the same time?”

Ashe rolled her eyes and hoisted one crossbow to rest on her shoulder. “Of course I can. I’ve had a lot of practice over the past five months and my dexterity is at a whopping 365.”

Man he loved this girl. Trey nudged Napoleon lightly with his foot and stared down at the imp encouragingly. “I want you to take out the guy with the broadsword over to the left. Aim for the neck so he can’t scream or make much noise, and after you ravage it go ahead and deal with him however else you prefer.”

“Yes yes master I will do it!” Napoleon eagerly clapped his hands and shuddered happily, his snarling grin of dagger-like teeth becoming sinister the next second. “I kill kill!”

Trey gave him a thumbs up, his muscles tense and his right hand reaching for Talsh’Noc’Un across his back. His red eyes began to trickle a crimson glow, lighting up the veins across his face as the chaos mana inside him flared to life. “Art thou ready, peasants?”

Ashe readied her crossbows, drawing the bolts back to click into place. “Hurry the fuck up asshole, I don’t have all goddamn night.”

Napoleon just clapped his clawed hands again in anticipation.

“Then let’s do this.”

Trey took another step forward, flung the gate open and rushed into the enclosure. The five metal cages stood apart from one another at equal intervals but only one of them had his attention. The noise the gate made as it hit the wooden stockade caused heads to turn but only for a moment as the first of Trey’s victims found his head decapitated and soaring through the air in a spray of blood trailing after Trey’s huge greatsword.

“You have gained 1 level in the skill Blades.”

The shock and surprise lasted only a split second for the two men leaning against the cage as both of the backs of their heads slammed into the metal bars, their bodies slinking down unceremoniously with crossbow bolts embedded in their skulls.

Trey didn’t have time to look and see if Napoleon was on top of his target because he had to make it to his own second victim. Shadowstepping into the second cage on his right and vaporizing into existence right behind the man holding a hot iron across the captive’s thigh, Trey promptly tore out his throat. The man tried to scream but all that came out was a gurgle as he dropped the hot iron to the floor with a clang against the metal bars. Trey placed Talsh’Noc’Un onto his back again, took the man’s head by his hair and then used his other clawed hand to yank.

The neck snapped, Trey’s new rage bar - courtesy of his Horror Crusader subclass - began to spike, and the man quickly died.

“You have gained XP. You have gained 1 level in the skill Hand to Hand Combat. You have gained 1 level in the skill Assassination.”

“Your minion Napoleon has grown 1 overall level.”

He stood there, panting from the rush, as he stared his victim down. The rage bar along with his attack damage and insanity were all climbing… even causing him to become jittery with a strange mixture of anger and delight. Looking over his back, he was pleased to see Napoleon doing a happy dance on the corpse of the man he’d been assigned to as Ashe calmly walking over to the cage Trey stood in.

She gave him a silly smile and began to speak before she abruptly stopped and stared. “… Trey? What are you doing?”

Sithis gave him an internal purr of pleasure, his symbiote reveling in the kills they’d made. Trey was tearing out the dead man’s liver, and as his face turned into his aspect of the devil he sunk his obsidian daggered teeth into the fresh flesh. Savoring it and cackling softly to himself he began to take bigger and bigger bites, completely unaware that Ashe was tugging at him and trying to speak to him.

Two minutes later he snapped out of the trance.

“Trey god damn you! Get ahold of yourself!”

Trey came back to reality covered in bits of body parts, blood, and bile. He’d quickly eaten half of the first corpse’s internal organs and gone on to the next corpse, tearing out the hearts, livers and then choosing to chew on the biceps or thigh muscles.

“You have gained 4 Strength from devouring your kills.”

He dropped the arm he’d been eating and licked his lips as they changed back from completely demon to more human features. He appreciated the bonus he got from his predator symbiote’s consume ability, but now was not the time. No doubt his insanity trait had caused the lapse in judgement thanks to that fucking rage bar he had.

He’d have to be much more careful, and thinking about it now - he really needed to consider whether or not he’d even be suited for any type of stealth mission after this. What if this happened again during a pivotal moment? Would he give away their position after making a kill because he couldn’t function with the team or was too consumed by his rage and insanity to give a shit about stealth?

That would be really, really bad. He made a mental note to himself to try and utilize Ashe or Napoleon for further stealth missions without him if possible and as long as it didn’t put them in too much danger. That… or he’d have to find a way to deal with this newfound insanity and keep it at bay during times of importance.

“Sorry about that…” Trey wiped his face on his sleeve and turned back around to meet the staring frightened eyes of the slaves in the five cages.

All save for one, they were absolutely terrified.

“I’d… thought you’d come for me…” The wary, exhausted voice of the Soquel Empire’s agent was raspy at best. They’d likely deprived him of water for a good amount of time, but for what reason they’d done this and why they’d chosen to torture the poor man was beyond Trey’s understanding.

Trey walked over to gather a canteen from one of the corpses, made sure it contained water, and handed it to the prisoner. The chains clanked together as his arms gingerly came up to grasp it, eagerly bringing it to his bloodied lips and chugging the entire canteen in one go. He had some major bruising lining his face and abdomen. Cuts were present too where they’d bludgeoned him too hard, and there were burns along both thighs from the hot iron they’d been using to torture him with.

Trey watched him drop the container with a satisfied sigh and then knelt down on one knee to meet his gaze up close. “You thought we’d come for you? How’d you guess it?”

The young man chuckled, laughing in satisfaction at the torn body of the mercenary guard who’d been torturing him only minutes ago. “I saw you eyeing me from the crowd earlier today… You summoners are always looking for a good thrall. That’s what you want me for right? To become your thrall? I’m the best choice of this entire lot, so if I was you - I’d have a go at me too. I guessed you’d come tonight after you didn’t bite at the price Ronnie put up.”

Trey nodded slowly and raised an eyebrow. “Ronnie?”

“The auctioneer.” The redheaded man spat, lifting his shackled hands to offer a shake. “I’m Reiklin by the way. It’s nice to make your acquaintance, summoner.”

Trey took his hand and shook it, slowly beginning to smile. “Well? We can do this the easy way… or the hard way. What will it be?”

Reiklin kept his grip firm and confident, leaning forward a little bit to get up close next to Trey’s ear. “I know how you summoners work. I know everything about your class… I’ve killed enough of you by now so I certainly should. With our level disparity you’re looking at 3 slots to take me if I don’t want to serve you. Then I’d be able to challenge your authority over me at any time I wanted… as long as the level disparity remains. The All Spirit will notify us of this as soon as you turn me into your… pet. Or you might not be able to succeed at dominating my soul at all. You do realize this, right?”

Trey’s smile quickly turned into a deep-set frown. This archer knew that much about his class already? Most people he’d met knew little to nothing about how his summoner class operated, so this came as a big and unwanted surprise. “If you were to do that, you’d still be a thrall. A masterless thrall, and you wouldn’t be able to survive without my contract.”

Reiklin let out a meager laugh, still holding his grip on the handshake firmly but pulling his head back to rest against the bars and wincing as he moved his burned right thigh the wrong way. “I would still be able to survive another week, maybe two. Maybe it would be long enough to make it back to the empire to find a summoner loyal to the crown, maybe it wouldn't be enough time. I don’t know. However… I do have a proposition for you. One that you might like.”

This caught Trey’s attention, and he let go of the handshake to sit cross legged on the dirty barred floor. “Alright I’ll bite. What’s your proposition? I’ll have you know I won’t come out of this place leaving empty handed… you’re coming back as my thrall either way. If that means I have to fight you in a final battle of wills later on, so be it.”

Reiklin was not intimidated and it showed. If anything, there was a new spark to his eyes. “Ah. I do not intend to challenge your intent, my days as an agent of the Soquel Empire are over anyways. I failed in my mission and have no want to go back in disgrace… rather I’d let them think me dead. I do have one condition you can fulfill for me though… one that will guarantee my loyalty. My willingness to serve you would significantly improve and the control slot costs to keep me would decrease… all you have to do is take this magic suppression collar off of me… and help me kill Ronnie. He’s made my life hell ever since I got here… Please. Do this for me.”

“You have been offered a quest: Kill the Auctioneer - accept Reiklin’s request to kill Ronnie. Completing this quest will result in a large sum of XP and Reiklin’s absolute devotion. ERROR - ERROR - ERROR: This quest has been edited. Eleknar, your bonded essence, has changed the quest terms. Kill this man Ronnie as brutally as possible and also acquire an immediately applicable, single-use minion evolution stone to apply to any minion of your choice. Do you accept or decline?” a mechanical voice from deep in Trey’s brain echoed.

Eleknar huh? And an immediately usable minion evolution stone? Seriously? To be applied to ANY of his minions? The quests he’d gotten in the past weren’t anything like that. And to get Reiklin’s absolute devotion? He took in a deep breath. Even with the battle that lay ahead… Eleknar was seriously tempting him on this one. How could he say no?

They stared each other down for more than a couple seconds, but the creeping smile on Trey’s face came back. “It’s a deal.”

“You have accepted the quest: Kill the Auctioneer.”

His hand shot up just as she let on a victorious smile of his own. His palm planted firmly onto Reiklin’s face and pressed his head up against the metal bars of his cage as the tattoo of Trey’s unholy script came to life - beginning to burn a hot orange-red and swarming from his outstretched arm into Reiklin’s body.

The archer let out a muffled scream as the unholy script broke and bound his soul, causing him to writhe for well over a minute before finally subsiding to an inky black and vanishing to appear on Trey’s arm again.

“Reiklin’s soul has been altered and dominated. Reiklin has been registered as your minion and thrall. Congratulations, for more information please visit his status page.”