The Blackmarket Relations stood at the edge of the town, a dark and oppressive structure compared to the lively warmth of the tavern. Its exterior was marked by heavy iron doors and low-hanging lanterns, casting a faint, sickly light upon the grim cobblestones beneath. It was here that a different world existed, one where the poor, the desperate, and the downtrodden were sold off, their lives traded like goods.

Ethan, Ashley, Lorenz, and Cassius stood at the entrance, each of them bearing varying expressions of distaste. The heavy air of the marketplace always seemed to settle on their shoulders like a weight, the murmur of deals and the rustle of chains accompanying their every step.

“So, this is where we find our new recruit,” Ashley said, her tone a little more clipped than usual. “I still don’t like the idea of it, Professor.”

Ethan gave her a sympathetic glance but stood firm. “You’re not wrong, but the alternative is leaving ourselves exposed. A party of five, with a wielder... it’s what we need.”

Lorenz smirked. “Not to mention, your beauty isn’t enough to ward off monsters, Ash. We need someone who can swing a sword or handle other wielders.”

Ashley shot him a sharp look but didn’t argue. Instead, her gaze lingered on the dark interior of the market, her mind running through the possibilities.

Inside, the atmosphere was cold and impersonal. Rows of cages and stalls lined the main hall, each filled with individuals standing quietly or chained to the posts. Their eyes were dull, resigned to the endless cycle of trading and use. It was here Ethan had discovered a woman whose presence among the others didn’t fit. She had a quiet grace that seemed out of place in the shadows of the market.

Ethan led the group to a stall where a large, grey-bearded dwarf stood overseeing the enslaved. He nodded when Ethan approached, already knowing why they were here.

“You’ve come for one, I assume?” the dwarf rumbled.

Ethan glanced over the shackled forms. His eyes lingered briefly on a few familiar faces, but then his gaze fell on mysterious woman. The iconic combination of silky white hair and light grey skin— she has the manifested attributes of the Conclave of Steele, a race that hails from the frosty mountains of the north. He had read it from one of the rudimentary books about this worlds' species back when he was preparing for the silver-rank written exam. Despite her frail appearance, legends has it that this race bore the strength quill-marks from birth, making them a natural born wielders.

She stood near the back, her posture straight, eyes sharp as though she were aware of everything going on in the room. There was something about her—something that told Ethan she wasn’t meant to be here. Unlike the others who bore the marks of resignation, her spirit remained unbroken.

"That one," Ethan said, pointing to her. "The woman in the corner."

The slave trader followed his finger, nodding as he appraised Dahlia with cold, calculating eyes. “Ah, yes. Dahlia Steele. She's been here for... a while. Strong, capable. But not much use without a collar, I suppose.”

Ethan frowned. “How much?”

“Too much for your kind,” the trader said with a grin, his voice dripping with condescension. “But for the right price, anything can be arranged.”

Ethan didn’t flinch at the man’s tone. “I’ll pay.”

The trader raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. “Very well. A thousand gold.”

Cassius hissed. “That’s highway robbery.”

Ethan didn’t look away from the slave trader. “Fine,” he said, reaching into his pouch and pulling out the agreed-upon sum. He tossed the heavy pouch of gold onto the counter, causing the trader to smirk as he counted it out.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"Pleasure doing business with you, sir," the trader said. He moved swiftly, unlocking the cage and throwing open the bars to reveal Dahlia.

She stepped out of the cage, her movements graceful, though there was an air of weariness about her. Her face remained stoic, unreadable, but there was a faint gleam of curiosity in her eyes when she saw Ethan.

“My most gracious patron, surely one slave isn't enough? Why don't you buy another one for assurance? I can give you a discount if you buy a bunch of them!”

Ethan considered the idea, he gave a quick glance around looking at the slaves in stock. Most of them are either feline-kin or other exotic races, but in the end he shook his head. These slaves have that dumbfounded look on them, the sad reality is, while they are physically malnourished, their eyes has lost all hope in them. Ethan may be a bit of a benevolent person, but his intentions are borne out of need more than altruism. He needed a wielder, not someone who has been thoroughly broken from the inside out.

“I'm not interested. If there's nothing else, then we will take our leave,” Ethan replied, his face betrays no emotion.

"But of course. Feel free to visit again.”

The party headed out of the Blackmarket district and while everyone was silent, unsure what to make of the slave transaction, Ethan decided to break off the silence.

"You're free," Ethan said, his voice firm but not unkind. He spared no effort in taking her collar off. "You're no longer a slave," he says.

Dahlia didn’t move immediately, her gaze drifting from Ethan to the trader, then back to the rest of the group. She said nothing, and for a moment, the silence was thick and heavy.

“You think this is freedom?” Dahlia’s voice was low, but there was a sharpness to it. “You think this collar can just be erased like that? You think I’m some prize you can buy and discard?”

Ethan stood tall. “I’m not asking you to be a prize. I’m offering you a chance to stand on your own feet. Your life, your choices. If you want to walk away, you can.”

She hesitated for a moment longer, then stepped toward him, her expression shifting slightly, though the hardness didn’t fully leave her face. “And why would you help me?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

Ethan’s gaze softened. “You don’t belong here.”

Dahlia’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if processing the words. Then, after a long silence, she spoke again.

“You’re right about one thing,” she said slowly. “I don’t belong here. But I’ve been in worse situation, I-I don't want owing any more favors. No more. Not ever. Tell me the price of my freedom, and I will pay it tenfold.”

“We’re putting together a team. You’d be an asset. You’re a Wielder, aren’t you?”

Her eyes flicked briefly to her hands, where faint quill-marks traced the edges of her skin. "Strength and endurance," she said quietly.

Ethan held out his hand. “Join us. Help us. You’ll be our shield until the practical exam is over. We will treat you as a fellow adventurer. You’ll have your freedom. And if you don’t like it, you can leave. No strings attached.”

Dahlia’s brow furrowed for a moment as she thought, then she met his gaze. “You’re offering me a job... not a cage?”

“Exactly.”

She didn’t take his hand immediately, instead looking over the others—Ashley, Lorenz, and Cassius—her expression unreadable. Finally, she nodded.

“Alright,” she said. “I’ll join you. But I’m not here to be your lapdog. I’ll carry my weight, but don’t expect me to kneel."

“Fair enough,” Ethan said with a grin, a spark of relief in his eyes. "We don’t need a lapdog. We need a Wielder.”

Dahlia’s lips twitched, a faint smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Then I shall start repaying off my debt.”

With that, she turned, her expression finally softening as she shed the heavy weight of her past. There was no looking back now.

And with Dahlia Steele joining their ranks, Ethan’s party has finally achieved the requirements for the third challenge. The road ahead was still fraught with dangers, but now they had another shield—a wielder who carried not just the strength to fight, but the will to survive. And if Dahlia’s past had taught her anything, it was that survival wasn’t always about escaping—it was about forging a new path.

She wasn’t just going to stand there and be used again.

No, this time, she would choose her own fate.

“Ash, I think you two should go shopping first and buy her armor and weapons, as well as other necessities. The boys and I will make some final preparations.”

“Aye-aye captain!” Ashley replied, excited about the prospect of adding a new female member to the team. ”Leave it to me Professor, she'll be battle-ready by tonight!”

“Try not to overspend, okay? I have other plans for the funds. Oh and Dahlia, I trust that you and Ash would make a great team, get acquainted.”

“S-Sure,” Dahlia responded.

And so, the final downtime before the third challenge commenced. With the newfound duo of Ashley and Dahlia getting to know more about each other while shopping for equipment, and the trio of Ethan, Cassius, and Lorenz had made other preparations.

It was an eventful afternoon filled with curiosity and mirth. Ashley was able to procure Dahlia's meager necessities as well as leather armor, a mace and a round shield. The party were even able to grab a bite at the local tavern and went over their plans once again before setting out for the town's outskirts. Little did the know, that a surprising twist awaits them soon enough.