The slavers of Oriripol truly mastered their trade as the Senchor couldn't stop massaging his wrist fascinated with the feeling of fresh air grazing his bruised skin. His freedom wasn't returned to him sadly but he was unshackled and put in an empty room slowly filling up as the bell passed.

It was truly a strange sight seeing people, holding their faces in front of the guards break down in tears as the metal door closed. Being a noble Alexandre had read how the elves and other older races described the early man as a vermin which easily moulds into the environment around them. Three days hadn't passed and the tiniest speck of freedom felt like the happiest day in his life.

The tears people wept were those of relief, of the fear they needed to bottle up to go against the many eyes behind them and kiss that cursed ring. All of their torment up until now felt like a test and their reward for the correct answer was being unshakled.

Most of those who joined Alexandre in this small room quickly found their own corner. Simple benches were attached to every wall and on occasion, a guard who brought a new slave would carry firewood in off-hand before chucking it in the direction of the fireplace made in such a way it was hard to do anything else other than to fill it.

Alexandre twirled a wooden splinter between his fingers as he waited. A bundle of firewood was brought about two bells into the interrogation and an old man took it upon himself to refill the stone stove.

There seems to be no thought given to the faiths of those who didn't give in. Why would there be? The people here seemed to try their best to not think about anything else other than thanking their stars for choosing the seemingly best option.

Having mingled in the lawless portion of the Oriripol society, many faces around Alexandre felt familiar, some not so much. It wasn't a case of him not remembering people but certain types of people tended to resemble each other. The old man enjoying the hot stone had scars of branding going up his wrists, marks from a magister showing him as a serious debtor. Others wore their history as it was obvious which of the women were selling themselves the day before.

Sitting opposite Alexandre a pair of twins three or four years before getting their second Class talked to each other. The city of mages managed to turn a childhood into a warped visage of itself as by the way the twins were scarred Alexandre could tell they were street mice. There were places in the slums that were simply off limits even to other residents of slums. Areas where gangs fought each other openly and where it was far too easy to receive a rusted shank between the ribs and be left in the mud, bootless.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

Two more bells passed before a guard entered. His steel armour made no sound as he motioned them to get out, an arming sword nakedly attached to his belt. Alexandre stood up as told, seeing no point in prolonging his stay at this fortified slaver warehouse. The sooner he could get out the sooner and with more energy his chance to escape would appear. After his exit, the others were quickly hurried by the giant unleashing his aura. More armed warriors surrounded them before they began marching with the slaves inside their formation.

"Sit," A different mage commanded as he pointed at the wooden floor. "Good, good. Was this the selection Master Mi'quak had ordered for sorting?" The clean-shaven sorcerer asked the silent giant who answered with a nod.

Given that Alexandre was at the front, a worker wearing the leather uniform but coloured white waited for him to stand up frowning at him while he did so before leading him two steps forward and opening a door for him.

What is his purpose? He asked himself before going in.

For the next few eternities or at least that is what it felt like to the Senator, he was forced to strip and be examined by cleanly dressed slaves with thick metal collars around their necks. Even if they shared the same misfortune of sharing bondage the collared slaves wouldn't even blink to help him. The thing which made them human was trapped by the powerful enchantments in the metal wiping their physical mind and turning them into perfect golem-like servants.

Staring into the empty calculating eyes of the people in front of him, he pondered if creating a golem would have been easier could the two mindless puppets have been spared this inhuman fate. A part of him wanted to say yes but he had a suspicion that not all mages would switch over to golems as there were many things one simply couldn't do with a golem's body.

After being given a clean tunic, rather than his old clothes he was moved forward into another waiting jail but unlike before this one seemed to be designed for longer stay with bunks blocking most of his vision.

The warm light of a fire filled the room dividing iron bars into sections of sixteen people if one would count all the beds. Slaves in Oriripol were sold in batches of eight so Alexandre could feel that his time in there was nearing to an end. He entered the last divide and claimed the top of the bunk nearest to the fireplace. He wondered how the other slaves must have been treated, he was under no illusion that the comfortable warmth and beds were acts of selfless kindness but tools. Carrots for the mages to dangle in front of their faces, able to snatch them away at any moment.

Status

Alexandre

Race: Human {Creature}

Age: 18.5 Years

Title: [Big Brother]

Classes: [Shadow Thief Level 11 ] [ Noble Level 2]

Talents: [Teratophile] [Energy Rush]

HP 155/155

Strength 12

Constitution 15

Dexterity 29

Wisdom 9

Intelligence 11

Charisma 19

MP 75/75

...

He opened his eyes not scanning anything below as the System page went on and on seemingly endlessly checking if his mana fully regenerated. He had never gotten through reading everything on his full status sheet, the system endlessly showing him more and more sub-menus and categories of lessening importance, carefully reading of which would send anyone to sleep.

His eyes wandered sleepily toward his title before, fondly remembering the time he jumped in panic as the bird inside his head squawked the notification. Making himself comfortable Alexandre rested his head and with one eye held open, he began to doze off.