Mad World
Chapter 102: The Scales
Moments earlier…
Long, black silky hair cascaded down a woman’s shoulders in a ponytail. At her waist were two swords in weathered rugged sheaths yet carried in her right hand was a leather whip, and in the other, the further end of a chain that coiled around a line of slaves.
The woman looked to be around her mid-twenties. Though, this was due to the effects of her energy circulation techniques, and in fact she was around the age of her late-thirties.
A sword scar ran down from her forehead, across her left eye, and ending just near her jawline. Nadia had a fierce and heroic beauty deserving of a talented veteran warrior. Since young she had clawed her way up from ruined slums to torn battlefields, and finally, she found herself on commision as high-end security, for a wealthy and affluent client.
Reputation was worth its weight in gold. Just based on her history of achievements, she was particularly sought after for a special mission: escorting two sons of a great merchant lord.
This relatively safe and effortless task would net her an easy hundred gold coins— which was hundreds of times the amount she would have received if she was still scraping by on the battlefield.
To her, this job had too many benefits and almost no other downsides, except of course, the slight and constant sexual harassment.
…In truth, she had even thought about killing Dais for his repeated misdemeanors(i.e., groping), but the investigation methods that a great merchant lord could hire were far beyond her abilities to escape. Even if she assassinated him in his sleep, poisoned his food, or killed the whole caravan and faked her death— this world had many magical methods to track down the perpetrator.
Nadia reined in her anger, and for it, she would soon receive a tremendous amount of wealth. Besides, in terms of gold and due effort, not killing the son of a powerful merchant lord was easier than beheading a warrior of similar strength; which was the only other way she could earn a hundred gold coins in one go.
‘Endure, and earn easy money,’ was what she said to herself. There were, afterall, worse things that she had endured because of her beauty.
Now however, she began to regret that decision…
Before agreeing to the escort, Nadia acquainted herself with both the trade route, and the details of the other party. The information on Balon was vague and scarce, but their travel route would take them along regions that weren’t relatively dangerous.
Their main destination even, was an ordinary slave town in Redrock Canyons. What kind of character did she need to watch out for in such a backwater land? When was the last time a warrior of renown was seen in those parts?
She had the opportunity to stupendously cash out playing security in the boondocks, compared to life-threatening combat on the battlefield? Of course she happily agreed to serve as bodyguard for the two insufferable sons.
…And now she wished she could reverse that decision.
Sweat beaded from her head as she gripped the whip and chains tighter. What made it even harder now was that her palms had also started to perspire.
Nadia could remain relatively calm even in the chaotic battlefield, but now she found herself uncharacteristically on edge.
Passing through the tunnel and into this massive space, apprehension insidiously slithered into her heart.
It felt like there was a trespasser in the darkness— in her own home— and they could see her but she could not see them.
At this very moment her instincts were flaring, screaming at her that she was exposed and vulnerable.
Nadia looked around, trying her hardest to act and look as if she hadn’t noticed the guillotine on the back of her neck.
First she looked to the veteran warriors of the mercenary band, more specifically to the powerful warriors that she personally knew for some time. The eye-contact was brief, but the unease in their eyes was perfectly communicated.
‘Yeah…I fucking knew it…’
Nadia’s eyes then moved to the side, noticing someone else looking at her.
Unlike the masterful subtlety between experienced mercenaries, one of the young men was looking at her with obvious distraught.
All the rest of the mercenaries did not perceive anything, but this one did.
Erwin was a growing talent and had a strong sixth sense that helped him navigate the lines between life and death. Moreover, this was the same young merc who had an unfortunate peek at Aela’s claws, giving him more reason to be afraid.
The young man didn’t know it, but subconsciously he was giving the same look a child gave when looking at their parents for safety.
The young man held Nadia in high regard; many looked to her as both an unofficial leader, and as a pillar of support.
…But truth be told she couldn’t offer such a thing right now.
Nadia slightly shifted her gait, roughly bumping shoulders with him, hoping he would get the message.
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‘Straighten up you goddamn idiot! Even if you’re scared, at least don't look the part…’
It was then, that a pair of eyes placed their gaze onto her.
A chill went up her spine, before she slowly turned her head to meet that person’s eyes.
Upon a rough, elevated stone throne was a tall man with short black hair and black eyes.
There was nothing special about him apart from his handsomeness, and nor did his eyes hold any animosity or even emotion, but there was some sort of odd, psychological pressure placed on her as he looked down on her from above.
It felt as if an idea was being forced into her psyche, telling her to accept the fact that her place was beneath that man on the throne.
The man's eyes moved away from her and suddenly that pressure disappeared. Judging by the angle, it had moved on to the chained slaves behind her.
Nadia nervously gulped. Whoever that man was to make her feel such utter suppression, he was definitely above the Warrior ranks that she knew of. Only those with such power could make her feel such a thing.
That initial feeling of apprehension then must have definitely come from him, but…she still had that intense feeling— that there was more than one monster around.
Nadia’s eyes switched to the three young ladies, but suddenly in that moment, she felt a hand grab towards her behind; Dais had taken liberties on her once again.
Combined with her already tense nerves, it took all of her willpower to push down the instinctual response of crushing all the bones in his hand.
“Mm, sufficient.” Balon said towards the products he bought.
“Hmph. Of course. These products are one of our largest sources of income, naturally this trade is one which we excel in.”
“Disciple, come.” Balon’s booming voice ordered.
“H– Huh?!”
From the corner of Nadia’s eye, a timid little girl no more than the age of twelve awkwardly rushed just below the throne, to which, she instantly became the center of attention.
Oddly enough, Nadia had not noticed the sweet little girl until now. Even as her awareness spread throughout the whole room, she hadn't remembered it ever encompassing the girl.
‘Huh? Guess I slipped up.’
The veteran warrior observed her further. Yela was once again nervously fidgeting with her hands, trying her best to disappear from everyone's eyes and blend into the nonexistent furniture. Obviously, she was not comfortable with the spotlight called the crowd’s gaze.
“Release one of them.”
“Ohh?” Dais’s voice slightly elevated in pitch, obviously eager and delighted.
The pompous merchant looked towards Nadia, to which she raised her eyebrows in compliance.
She walked over to a slave at random, and undid his bindings.
“What plans do you have for them?” Dais asked.
In his mind there were only two possible scenarios that the two individuals could engage in, here, in the presence of a crowd. Those scenarios were either coupling, or combat.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, both were things that Dais looked forward to watching.
“What else, then for a demonstration on how to beat down these dogs?”
Dais smiled as Balon’s words riled up the slave crowd.
“What!?”
“What the hell did you just say!?”
A few of them shouted at Balon but most held their tongue. The burning sting of the whip would undoubtedly come should they actually use their voices, thereby “speaking out of turn.”
In response the man on the stone throne took a sweeping glance at the disgruntled slave crowd, before choosing to further antagonize them.
“What’s this? Have you animals finally been put in your place? Have you dogs finally been conditioned to fear your masters?”
“I’ll fucking kill you!”
“Why don’t you fight us instead, coward!”
“Stupid dogs! Why would I need to do that when this little lady is enough? Hahaha!” Balon’s deep laughter echoed through the massive space. At the sound of his mocking laugh, the pent up rage, sorrow and shame within the slaves finally broke open and erupted.
“Amon, beat that little girl down for us!”
“Fuck you and your bloodline!”
“Do you think you can put us into submission by having her fight us!?”
“She’s probably no different from him! Beat her until she cannot walk!”
“What’s your name noble!? Once I break out of these chains I will come back to kill you and the rest of your house!”
“Remember the other girls that spat on you, Amon! No mercy!”
“Kill her!”
As Balon had ordered these products, preferably defiant and unruly, almost all of those slaves were now shouting and swearing. Combined with their chains and metal cuffs that clinked and clanked, they resonantly created an atmosphere of hostile chaos and mad turmoil.
Balon smiled at their havoc but Nadia raised her whip, and so too did the rest of the mercenaries who had them. However just before they could strike the slaves back into silence, an invisible and terrifying energy swept through the crowds, specifically and only affecting those who were about to ruin that same atmosphere he created.
Nadia nervously looked towards the man on the stone throne, and so too did the rest of the mercenaries as an overwhelmingly anxious feeling took hold of their bodies.
She could have sworn she saw a hint of light within those black eyes, and she could have sworn that they had actually turned into vertical slits for a moment too, like some cold-blooded predator.
Whatever the case…when he slightly shook his head left and right, all of them— without thinking— obediently put their whips down.
Balon took his eyes off of the mercenaries, and back towards Yela.
“This will be your first among many fights, and the first among many, of those you step on to reach higher heights.”
“What!?”
“You bastard!”
“You people are all the same! What gives you the right!?”
“Please have mercy! I am no slave, I am common born!”
“Shut up you idiot! A lot of us were too, but it made no difference!”
“I’ll piss on your grave!”
“Your daughter will be beaten to death!”
Balon simply smiled at the slaves’ vulgar comments.
“Show them your superiority, disciple.”
This way, Yela would face true, unrestrained combat. To him, this was undoubtedly the best way to temper the soft little girl into hard steel.
“Approach, slave.”
The young boy walked towards the center of the palace, on his face was a fierce glare as he stared the little girl down.
In terms of looks he was a little above average, and Nadia had chosen the youth specifically because she knew of the ways nobility often used their slaves.
Whether combat or coupling, Nadia thought it best that she was paired with someone of similar age and build.
“Amon…”
“Amon!”
“Amon!”
“Beat her into submission instead!”
“Amon!”
It was unknown who started chanting, but the whole slave crowd was now shouting the boy’s name in unison. Eventually they started to shake their chains and stomp their feet in resonance too.
Dais enjoyed the atmosphere while the mercenaries had varying expressions. Some decided to enjoy the show, some looked on as if the world was unfair, and some revealed a neutral expression with thoughts that could not be read.
At this moment, Nadia and the few powerful, richly experienced mercs had huddled together. They looked casual and unconcerned as they watched silently, but they were actually watching with extreme intensity. They were totally and fully on alert.
At this very moment, they were hoping nothing would go wrong— they were praying and wishing, moreso, that the man on the throne was left satisfied.
If there was even a hint of his dissatisfaction on his face, they would work together to immediately burst out of the enclosure and escape these cursed goddamn caves.
Those who gathered into their group were extremely careful. While Balon did not demonstrate any sort of animosity towards them, just the intuitive knowing that he could massacre them at any time was reason enough to cooperate with an escape plan.
In fact, Nadia scanned the room to find that one of the shrewd veterans who was within the crowd, had gone missing. He had probably already slipped out, and she was correct. Under Balon and his sister's eyes, they had seen and let the frightened little rat scurry out through the tunnel.
Nadia and the others however bravely decided to stay. Weighing their life on one hand, and weighing gold in the other, they boldly decided to walk the edge once again, thinking to themselves that they had the wits and capability to escape, and hoping that the line between life and death would not suddenly tip over.
Now, Balon, the sisters, the merchant, the mercenaries, the slaves— all eyes were fully submerged onto the two.
The chanting had now turned into screaming, the clanking chains started to sing an unintelligible chorus, and the stomping boomed and echoed through the massive cave like a beating heart of darkness— in resonance they became a symphony that demanded violence.
At the peak of the madness, Balon’s voice unnaturally boomed over the slaves’s song.
“Begi—”
The young boy suddenly lunged at Yela.