The carriage ride was long and uncomfortable. It took several hours to reach the destination, which was a lone mountain about a dozen miles out from the city. The mountain was almost entirely covered in fog, making it look almost like a blade of steam sundering the sky. Around the base of the mountain was a large red wall that looked like it was covered entirely by the scales of some great beast

This place was quite imposing, creating much pressure on the 3 caged men and driver. The carriage pulled up to a gate, stopping just before it. At the top of the gate was an attractive-looking young man, dozing off in a comfortable-looking cushioned chair.

The frogman got out of the driver's seat, bowed respectfully at the young man, and let out a shout to wake him. Awakening with a yawn and a stretch, the man on the gate gazed lazily at the frogman. After verifying the frogman's identity he pulled a lever, which caused the gate to rumble open.

The carriage driver quickly raised his head and drove the carriage through the gate. Once inside, the scenery had changed completely from outside the walls. The fog on the mountain almost completely disappeared, leaving only a few wisps surrounding a great many grand structures and buildings constructed both around and on the mountain, having a much more oriental design than the city.

These traits helped to accentuate the mountain’s already mystical air. Cobbled roads and wooden lifts haphazardly crisscrossed the mountain, and people were constantly frothing back and forth like the waves of the ocean. About 9/10ths of the people in the crowd wore simple clothing with coarse metallic bands on their foreheads. The rest wore ornate white robes and arrogant expressions.

The simply clothed people were likely servants, Eon thought, and they made sure to stay out of the way of the robed masters. Most of the masters were teenagers, and nearly all of them were extremely good-looking, even the most homely of them were still well above average in appearance.

In contrast to the masters, the servants could range from late teens themselves to the elderly, there was no distinguishable pattern. All of this came together to form a collage of sights and sounds, the thrum of life here even stronger than in a typical market. The carriage pulled off to a side path, and in front of them was a line of similarly built cage carriages with prisoners in each.

Eon was beginning to realize what was happening as he watched the flow of traffic. He probably should have noticed it sooner, but his relatively cushy experience with modern society blinded him to this possibility. 'I'm being sold into fucking slavery!'

A slack-jawed expression appeared on Eon's face. Slavery was something foreign to Eon, having lived in an industrialized society where slavery had been viewed as abhorrent for over a hundred years. The idea that it could happen to him was alien and absurd, or so he felt.

Stolen novel; please report.

Unperturbed by Eon’s feelings, the queue moved quickly. Each prisoner would be touched on the forehead by the presiding robed master for a few seconds before the seller was handed a jingling bag of what Eon assumed to be money.

The slave would then have the metal band Eon saw on the other servants attached to their heads before being led away by another servant. Eventually, it was Eon's cart turn. The other two men chained inside went first with apprehension, and they were quickly processed without a hitch.

Eon moved up, his fear evident. The countless years of isolation in the tutorial had almost entirely stripped Eon's already lacking social skills and mannerisms away from him, this included a loss of his poker face. In a sense, though, Eon’s coarse manner of speech made his lack of language a gift for what came next.

As the master touched Eon's head, Eon felt the hairs on his skin rise. Normally the slave wouldn’t be able to feel this process; however, due to the heightened awareness of his body, Eon could just barely feel ‘something’ enter his body. It prickled the edge of his senses, like a whispered word in a violent storm.

This whisper passed through Eon's body, but after moving around a little, the master touching Eon’s head frowned. The whisper sped up its movement throughout Eon’s body. It moved repeatedly over every nook and cranny it could find, and as it did so the frown on the master's face began to turn to surprise.

The frogman; however, seemed to be nervous. The master had not taken this long on any other slaves, and he just kept touching Eon’s head. Eventually, the master removed his hand, a thoughtful look on his face.

Eon collapsed to the ground in a pool of his own sweat. As a side effect of taking so long and being so rough and careless, the master’s whisper caused Eon's body to go haywire, which was an exhausting experience for Eon. He hadn't felt this tired in his entire life, his limbs were like lead and all he could do was lay on the ground and gasp for air before falling unconscious yet again. If he was keeping track, Eon probably would have complained about the fact that he had been asleep more than he had been awake since his transmigration.

The master took the frogman by the arm and led him off to the side. The master began questioning the frogman, and with almost as much sweat as Eon, the frogman fearfully and respectfully answered. Everyone still in the line was staring with confusion, what could be so wrong with this slave that the master, who had attained some level of cultivation, had taken such an interest?

The master came back over to Eon after finishing his questioning. After thinking for a moment, the master handed the frogman a large bag before tapping on a bejeweled gold bracelet. A minute later, another master came gliding down through the air.

While it wasn't actually flying, it was close enough to make the watching people sigh with awe and envy, wishing that they too had the opportunity to cultivate miraculous techniques. The newcomer had an orange robe instead of a white one like all the other masters Eon had seen by this point.

The master in the white robe slightly bowed before speaking to the orange-robed cultivator. An intrigued look crossed the new cultivator’s face and she looked down at Eon. She then carelessly picked Eon up by the back of his neck, spoke a few words to the white-robed cultivator, and leaped into the air like a feather on a strong wind, gliding through the air towards the mountain. There was only one person that would be capable of potentially explaining this anomaly and they were headed to his home.