Lucius stood in the dim corridor of the prison, covering his mouth and nose carefully with a handkerchief. The stench of feces and decaying flesh made him nauseous.

The slave trader, with broad shoulders and a round waist, nodded and bowed beside the young noble-dressed man, eagerly guiding him to look at the cell on his left-hand side.

The dimly lit cell offered no comfort for standing or lying down. Any prisoner thrown in here would have to sit or curl up inside.

A few rays of sunlight shine through the small window near the ceiling, leaving two dull patches of light on the ground between the thatched bed and the cell bars.

A white figure was curled up on the thatched bed, motionless, not knowing whether it was dead or alive.

"Is that her?" Lucius asked, frowning.

"That's her, sir," the slave trader answered apprehensive, sensing the young noble's disappointment. "Three good soldiers from the northern border, who hadn't touched a woman in a while, went to a barbarian village to have some fun. Resulting in three to one, they were all killed! She used a cow's jawbone!"

He lowered his voice and put on a mysterious demeanor: "You should know, the one who sold her to me was the Governor's Office. It's said, she even bit the governor's son's... thingy."

The slave trader brandished his stick and shouted loudly while banging on the bars, "Get up, barbarian! Meet your new master!"

Lucius gazed with hope, but the figure in the straw pile remained motionless.

"She couldn't have died, could she?" Lucien said in a nasty tone, "I paid a high price, not for a dead person!"

The slave trader wiped his shiny forehead.

"No way, not possible," he said, "Don't worry, don't worry. She's a wild one, and doesn't understand civilized language, but there's one thing we often say that she might understand - dinner time! Damn un-domesticated beast! Dinner time!"

The figure in the haystack stirred.

Lucius saw her stretch her body on the thatched pile and slowly prop herself up against the wall. As she moved, Lucius also heard a faint metallic ring, the sound of shackles clanging against each other.

The figure slowly walked forward, dragging the shackles, and slowly walked to the patch of light formed on the ground by the sun, revealing its appearance completely in front of Lucius.

Lucius was amazed at her height. She was almost 6 feet tall, a head taller than him. When she stood in front of the fence, the whole prison cell seemed to be divided in two. She had a slender waist, broad shoulders, long limbs, a thin and strong physique, and muscle lines like a big elephant.

A healthy and athletic snow-white elephant, restrained by shackles.

Lucius was struck by her height. Like all slave girls up for auction, she wore heavy shackles on her hands and feet and only a dirty brown loincloth covered her torso. Her skin was a pale white and Lucius quickly glanced at her belly. An ugly, red symbol of her slave status marked her, peeking out sinisterly from the top edge of the loincloth.

He looked up. The tall woman was covered in dried blood and filth, emitting a pungent odor. Her fine braid split her head in half, with the left half shaved bald. Blue lines, tattooed by the northern barbarians, curved on her scalp and reached her neck, like a serpent or a rose vine. Silver-grey hair hung down the right side of her head and draped over her broad right shoulder, matted with blood.

She gazed at Lucius expressionless.

Lucius stepped back involuntarily after only a moment of eye contact with the woman, his heart pounding like a drum.

The slave trader chuckled beside him, "Look at those eyes, she's a beauty, isn't she?"

Lucius didn't respond.

What really made him lose his composure was neither her wild, athletic physique nor her cold, graceful appearance.

But it was her gaze.

Her gaze was too piercing.

Sunlight shone on the back of her head and silver hair, forming two shadows in her eye sockets, with her eyes resting in each shadow. Her eye color was between light yellow and light red. Her gaze was straight and piercing, as cold as a knife blade.

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Lucius took a deep breath and raised his head again to look at the sharp eyes, gazing at his own slightly panic-stricken face reflected in the amber-like pupils on the opposite side.

He knew she was scrutinizing him, like a famished beast examining its prey, contemplating how to take a bite.

Lucius reached into his money pouch and tossed it to the slave trader.

"I'll take her. She's mine," he said hoarsely. "What's her name?"

The slave trader chuckled beside him, "As you please. Whatever you want to call her when you're handling her, she'll be called that. However, my good lord, I must remind you, don't forget: a cow jawbone, to fight three, and the governor's son's thing."

"I know what I'm doing," Lucius said gruffly.

The slave trader laughed and went to register the sale of slaves, leaving Lucius alone, staring at her in a daze through the cell bars.

He noticed a flaw on her face. Her lips were so thin that they were almost invisible, adding a hint of cold hardness to her almost perfect facial features.

"Anada," Lucien said softly, "The meaning of 'Unlip' in ancient dragon language, also the name of the human warrior who destroyed the city of lizard people. It's perfect for you."

She said nothing, staring at him quietly.

"Usually I would think women should stay in their place, at a loom, in an orchard, with babies, and a man's bed, but now..."

Lucius chuckled mockingly.

"Three days later, the city's ruler, to celebrate his daughter's birthday, announced a series of arena battles involving only female gladiators...you have potential, I'll shape you. Then you will bring me the honor and maybe even reclaim the family's arena for me."

The sound of shuffling footsteps echoed from the direction of the corridor.

The slave trader returned, accompanied by two burly men carrying long rods.

Lucius's eyes didn't have them.

"Unlock the cage, I'm taking her with me," he said, keeping his eyes on her.

But with a "clink", the purse given to the slave trader was tossed back at his feet.

The coins spilled everywhere.

"Young Master of the Schwartzenger family," the slave trader called out the identity of Lucius, with a tone of indescribable contempt and ridicule, "I apologize, I didn't expect a 'former' member of the Silver Moon clan to grace us with their presence...but I'm afraid this business cannot be done."

The woman from the North stood silently within the fence.

She didn't understand a word they were saying, just found them noisy.

She saw that the face of Lucius outside the fence twisted with rage, arguing with the slave trader, and then he roared, drew his short sword, and pointed it at the slave trader. The gleaming blade of the sword illuminated her eyes in an instant.

That sword was made with "unbelievable metal". The imperial people use it to make weapons and armor, calling it "steel".

She remembered it clearly.

She remembered clearly. A sword of the same material had easily shattered her wooden shield and iron ax.

It was also that sword that slit her brother's throat and gutted her mother, causing their steaming entrails to spill out onto the blood-soaked floor of their longhouse.

Her breathing became slightly labored, and the shackles on her body made a faint clattering noise.

Her mother fell to the ground in the blood, lying next to her little brother.

She threw the shattered shield and axe handle at the Imperial facing her, then turned to tackle the killer, shouting in anger and fiercely choking the killer's neck.

In an instant, countless enemy shields and iron boots fell heavily onto her body and head.

She doesn't care.

"Dead or alive, she wants the killer to join her in death."

But familiar crying echoed into her ears.

She saw her three-year-old younger sister sitting next to their mother's body, crying and with blood flowing down her plump, white arm.

The sword that cut the little sister's arm slowly moved up, resting on the girl's delicate neck.

Her resistance and strength disappeared in an instant.

The murderer struggled free from under her, panting and gasping, and spitting out a long tongue, like a dog.

"Bitch," he said.

He swung his shield, fiercely smashing it against her right temple.

Amidst dizziness, she fell to the ground. The imperials rushed at her like starving wolves, twisting her arms behind her back, tightly tying her wrists and feet with ropes.

"Be careful, don't scratch her face" & "The governor's son needs to be alive," they shouted excitedly, about like this.

"Do you still think you're the noble silver lord on high?"

The slave trader outside the fence was also shouting and excited like the imperial soldiers who massacred the village.

Just as Lucius drew his sword, the two henchmen of the slave trader crudely poked at Lucius's chest and abdomen with long rods, knocking him down and forcing him to roll around in agony, groaning in pain.

The slave trader spat and shouted, "The Swainson family has been expelled from the Elder Council! You're a banished man! Get out of the city within five days!"

Lucius groaned and tried to crawl up from the ground.

But the henchman's long pole poked him like a venomous snake on his wrist, forcing him to roll back on the ground.

With a strike, Lucius lost grip on his short sword which hit the fence, making a loud "clang" sound. The sword bounced and fell into the enclosure, landing at the feet of the northern woman.

The air suddenly stilled.

The air suddenly became still. She noticed the slave trader and his two henchmen with long poles were nervously staring at her. Their poles were no longer pointing at Lucius but at her.

They yelled at her with words she couldn't understand.

She looked at them, dragging the shackles, slowly retreating, and sat down on the rough straw bed. She gazed quietly as they reached for the short sword with their long poles, and knocked it out of the cell.

The slave trader tested the sharp edge of the short sword and proudly tucked it into his waist. "This sword is the price you pay for causing trouble here," he said.

Without a word, he picked up the scattered coins one by one, clutching his belly and staggering away, under the watchful gaze of the slave trader and two hired thugs.

The Northern woman silently watched and felt the metal coolness between her two toes on her left foot.

Before returning to the shabby straw bed, she stepped on and used her toes to pick up a copper coin.

"Young man from the Schwartzenger family, someone has asked me to give you a word of advice," he said to the curled-up Lucius, "Miss Xinsi does not wish for you to appear at her birthday celebration - now leave my territory at once. If you dare to show yourself in front of me again, I will cut off your fingers."

Lucius breathed heavily, slowly changing from crawling to kneeling.