1 A rough welcome

Running a slave market was nowhere an easy task, there was always trouble to settle, and balances to keep.

One could not find profit in it unless he was very able to keep the status quo and the money flowing, in the right pockets if so needed.

Buying in a slave was, in the country of Cesio and its capital Sesti in particular buying debt and problems.

Mostly it was debts, for poor families who were struck by famine, or attacked by demons and needed shelter sold daughters and sons.

Some of those managed to get a job, serving in noble houses as maids and butlers, and part of their wages served to repay the debt.

Others, proving more attuned to skills rather than form, were bought by the forge or as artisans workers and the local mines.

It was a short life by comparison, in more cases than not, even if they received humane treatment.

The salary was less than a noble house's one, but there was no cut for the slaver himself for he received the full compensation from the employer when the slave was bought.

So the employer was kind of encouraged to keep his investment alive if at all possible.

For the less lucky of them all the slave market had to assume another aspect: that of a brothel where girls and boys had a chance to sell themselves.

It was the case in which the slave saw almost no money, but the slaver provided every little thing needed so there were few downsides, if one was so inclined or had no choice at all.

Usually, the kingdom of Cesio guaranteed one year of upkeep for recently bought debt slaves, and the church of the goddess of creation usually helped some to get free, younger first.

None of this help came actually for free.

The church required the freed slaves to join his clergy or to help in maintaining holy grounds such as graveyards.

The kingdom required full and strict control on the use of enslavement magic and that the brothel access was to be restricted for clients and slaves considered of age by the laws.

It was a controversial kind of magic, compared to necromancy in the worst of cases, and often it was woven on special collars under the ruler's supervision.

It was never to be used upon a person directly unless of course that person had been deemed a criminal and that was the part where trouble came along.

The slave market served as a prison of a sort, having already heavy security and controlled facilities for the other purposes he was serving for.

Bandits, turncoats, and the worst members of society were kept here.

It was no death row, but they came almost free so usually, they were given the more dangerous or grinding tasks available.

The only silver lining was they could not directly be ordered to kill themselves unless the owner was willing to pay the price.

It was in no way a price that could be paid in money, for magic was involved.

Criminal slaves were marked by magic on their bodies directly, so the effect was stronger, but so was the link with the owner to the point that if the slave was ordered to take his life the owner would follow suit to the afterlife for the magical feedback.

If one played it smart there were ways to avoid such feedback, but the church and the kings made pretty damn sure that nobody started to play too smart.

Kings and archpriest alike were, in the end, regular members of their races and so the idea that magic could be used against them was a possibility scary enough to enforce painstaking bureaucracy and control on that.

There was some leeway, but just enough to reasonably profit, not to make anything one wanted.

There was also the need for knowledge, on about every topic of society and especially there could be no effort to spare to get to know the product you were selling.

Ridicule it as you might, an unhappy slave could mean more trouble than one could imagine, because magic could force the body, but not control thoughts and words said by them in the general sense.

So even if a superficial person would treat them as objects that very notion was to be erased from the beginning.

That of a slaver was the kind of job that required you to learn the full depth of darkness and still keep yourself in the light.

Failure meant to be slain, quietly and swiftly, and soon replaced by someone better than what you were.

Etegas had been a slaver for twenty years now and that year had finally managed to move to the capital, to what he perceived as a more safe job than on the outskirts even if it meant a whole other level of trouble.

That particular day he feared that his career had come to an end, for the very princess of the kingdom of Cesio and her royal guard were coming into his shop.

It was not a planned visit nor did his information network mentioned any sign of such a visit, so albeit louder than usual that could have very well been his demise.

The slave market was no palace, but at the least, the business floors could accommodate for nobility and the like provided they would come personally to seek for maids and butlers alike here.

The only room fit enough to receive royalty was his office, and he knew, so he could not escape.

It was a big room made of wood like the rest of the building, well lit by a big central window and adorned with tapestries; there was of course his desk in front of which there were a couple of seats for clients, some scroll racks on the walls containing balances, a library and a wine cabinet with fine glasses on display.

A pair of candelabra adorned both sides of the door leading here, and one was on Egas own desk, to lit the room enough to allow for some night work if it was ever required.

The princess Sinalta, after she was announced like etiquette demanded making Etgas rise and leave his chair, entered it first.

She was a short curly-haired girl, an adult already by the kingdom's standard.

For a fifty-something years old like Etgas she was nothing short of a pampered brat, with an inflated ego and the sense of right and wrong only someone who didn't need to compromise to stay alive could have.

Of course, he would never mention his thoughts aloud in front of her, and as he allowed her and the elite of her guards into his office, something else than the pearly eyes of the princess, her make-up, or her golden locks attracted his attention.

It was a tall bulky man he'd never seen before, a noble perhaps since he was dressed way too eccentrically to not be one, and his fat belly and the way he was short of breath meant he was in the kind of position not to move too much.

The way the wooden planks of the floor crackled under his feet was impressive, he had to weigh a lot to make them sound like that.

His demeanor seemed in no way cared for, and he was followed by one guard, her sword pointed on his neck as to almost shave his long reddish beard.

Along with his clothing and the black hue of his hair, it could be said he was not originating from this country.

The man was the first to seat, enraging the guard further, like he could care less if his head would be looped off right there.

The seat bent creaking dangerously underneath his weight, it seemed it would snap any moment by the way the legs bent, yet it was surprisingly sturdy enough.

He seemed way too amused, excited even with a smirk barely hidden below his beard and his desperate attempts at breathing and keeping a semblance of form.

Etgas knew that kind of attitude, and it screamed trouble all over, a man with nothing left to lose.

"Slaver Etgas! On my authority, grant the request of this man, then once he fails to prove himself I want him made a slave to me!"

The slaver raised an eyebrow at the request of the princess, as she sat on his chair; she should have known way better to come here and make that kind of request.

"Princess if I may ask, what brings such an unusual unprocedural request to this humble store? "

Etgas remained in a bowing position in front of the princess mustering all the diplomacy he could, It was a natural question since he knew full well that laws and custom could not change to the whims of princesses.

"Well the princess, and me, 've got kind, of a bet, if so ye could, call it one... "

Said the man, still catching his breath and panting, yet laughing ever so slightly at the end, the whole thing came distorted, distant from his lips moving, there was magic at work.

"see ... I was kinda brought in here by force. I wish it was only yer office pal"

The knight behind him was livid with rage, yet all it took for that human was to raise his right hand to stop her from striking him.

Etgas glanced at that hand, a strange dark red symbol resembling a hooded man wielding a scythe was embedded upon it.

"You insolent fool, you shall behave and do as you're told! You shall not reveal your history here!"

Barked at him the guard, making the man sigh and shake his head.

"yer princess kind of made me the fool, metal box. Otherwise, we wouldn't be talking here"

Etgas had to force himself not to laugh at the spirit of the man here, even if he was clearly out of the line to call a knight a metal box.

Yet there was a continuing pattern here, for his lips and the words he said were somewhat telling different stories.

Etgas could not be sure of it, but he had to say a way shorter version of various words.

He was clearly someone fascinating and his language broken by his constant panting and wheezing was kind of a show all in itself.

Yet he had to be under the effect of translation magic, of that there was no doubt.

"Slaver Etgas, you may rise. We do have the full approval of our esteemed Father, we would like to receive your silence on what will happen or be said in this room. "

The slaver rose, a clear expression of not having understood what the princess was saying had to be painted on his face, since the princess continued forth after giving him only a glance.

"First, it's as this horrid man has surmised. There is a bet of sorts going on. If you can call a sacred magical contract a bet of course."

The princess made a sign and another of her knights gave Etgas a parchment, he was instantly able to understand it and had to look even more puzzled, for the princess continued to explain

"The situation is dire, the war with the demons came to the point I decided to test if the hero summoning magic was real and… he's the result. "

Now Etgas understood, hero summoning was the magic of myths, granted by the goddess to the human race in the battle against demons and as such had to be used only in the situation most dire.

Then that thing on his right hand had to be the famous hero's mark, even if there was something very eerie about it, both in shape and color.

Etgas had thought that could have been a simple tattoo, but having been called by that magic that could not be so.

"Yes, kidnap people, them ask them kindly to save your sorry bum."

The man snorted aloud clearly pissed, finally, he seemed to have caught his breath and could talk almost normally.

"And of course I have to be happy. Say, who would not just be elated to get to save a kingdom?"

The princess appeared deeply frustrated looking at him

"Had you mongrel not possessed the mark of a hero, we would have your tongue extracted from that foul mouth and hung your corpse for all the kingdom to see.

Like we said prior, be grateful we comply with the will of the goddess.

Yet we do have this bet, you dare not back down from something you proposed to settle the dispute?"

The man snorted, again, looking at the princess the same way.

Etgas coughed ever so slightly to clear his throat and attract attention.

"My magic is not here to settle bets, even if it were the case. I don't see how my humble store can help you, my princess"

Pointed out Etgas, to the both of them, thereupon that so-called hero smiled pointing at him.

"But you use magic. A magic that can give the princess and me an answer to our little quarrel. The princess here says that since she used magic I have to be a hero, chosen by your goddess and thus brought here as a god of the machine to solve all your problems. While I say that magic is not divine, it's a tool. A tool that, once called upon has to produce an effect based on what it was asked to solve. Hence, for reasons unknown, I was chosen because I respect at least a part of what was requested from the magic, not necessarily it all. "

Etgas was baffled, what kind of world did he come from to even think of naming himself a god?

No, it had to be the translation magic misinterpreting his words, yet there had to be some kind of mistake here.

He shook his head in clear disbelief and again looked to the both of them, mainly at the princess, who in turn made a plain sign she did not understand herself.

"I hope you can forgive me, hero, but I can't see how I can be of assistance here."

The hero smiled, an evil smile that made Etgas feel goosebumps, he had seen that expression one time too many: that man was insane by his standard.

A madman, barely sane enough to prove to be a troublemaker of the worst possible kind in Etgas' eyes.

"You can use magic that forces people to obey, yes? Then it's simple to bring here a person that has to obey or die. Possibly someone that can see this and tell me that one plus one equals ten."

While saying that last part he rose both hands in the air, fingers relaxed and extended showing both of his palms.

His fingers were shaking, the bones showed signs of being somewhat bent.

Only very old people or tailors that used their fingers a lot had hands like those.

"See, slaver Etgas? This one mocks us in the open and takes us as fools, can you just turn him into our slave already?"

Asked a very pissed princess while Etgas this time shook his head to the princess to give her a sign she was in the wrong here.

"Lady Sinalta, I know this may be frustrating but I doubt he is mocking us here.

He does have a point if a twisted one at that.

He doesn't trust the translation magic, since he's experiencing trouble expressing himself through it.

Hence he's seeking somebody than can understand and trust actions first, words second. Am I wrong?"

The man nodded in the positive then pointed to a glass cabinet containing fine wine glasses making a sign he wanted to drink.

"water"

Etgas sighed, had he just plainly asked a more fitting glass could've been brought to him.

Etgas called his servants arranging for more seats, offering his own to the princess, and some refreshments.

When he was asking that an assassin was to be brought here the hero appeared kind of surprised, if not preoccupied to the point to almost spring back to his feet.

"Wait, if I'm right the slave will be freed of any magic binding him or her. Do you not have somebody less … violent, that could be sacrificed?"

Etgas laughed loudly this time around then, after calming himself he light-heartedly asked

"Hero, what's your name?"

The man replied

"You may call me Thirteen."

Etgas sighed and then calmly said

"Well you see, Thirteen, there is no way in which a cast magic could fail."

The hero raised his left hand to massage his eyebrows, puffing quite tiredly while the princess looked at him, victory already reflected in her eyes.

"That is to say that, once I will make your magic fail you'll claim that you failed as a mage?"

Etgas laughed heartily to the words of the hero, again.

He could finally measure the man calmly, had he not been hard-pressed to breathe and likely slumping he would've bumped on the door's lintel with his forehead.

Etgas had a problem of his own with those doors being too close to his head to wear any hat, but that was way taller.

He appeared human, at the very least, but his race differed from the human race of the kingdom, he had a whitish sickly skin tone, with a somewhat oily hue, but that could have been due to sweating.

Etgas wouldn't've been surprised if that was due to his apparent lack of exercise and subsequent exposure to sunlight, but he could not tell so at a glance.

Even he, being a slaver and all, did some exercise and managed how he ate to avoid becoming too fat.

Another thing of concern was his deeply sunk eyes, maybe some sort of dehydration or lack of proper sleep may be due to trouble breathing due to that body size of his.

A thing that struck him was that somewhat, even if he knew his clothes were tailor-made, he could not make a bet on the clothing that man wore however tainted and wet they were.

That clothing appeared to be made out of a single sheet of whatever material was used, something that he knew was impossible.

His shoes appeared made of something shining and clothing, in contrast to the shoes made of leather and wood Etgas and the princess wore-

Etgas, acknowledging what he could still not believe fully, shook his head in the negative.

"No, well you come from another world and I don't know your knowledge on magic, so I'll try to keep it to the bare basics of how we know it works here so that you may understand.

There is either magic or there isn't.

It's that simple.

Let's say I want to cast a spell, I fumble the incantation: there is no spell.

I misuse the magic energy I should give the spell by either giving too much or too few: there is no spell.

A slave is by all intent and purpose a magic item of sorts, magic was already cast on it, or it wouldn't be a slave, to begin with, and they maintain themselves with food instead of magic.

That means there is no conceivable way for the slave to be freed unless said slave dies or you say the words to free him yourself, which would be part of the magic working properly by the way.

The other possible way to dispel the magic would be by using magic apt to dispel it, and it requires time and resources like the summoning magic you were subjected to.

The materials to dissolve slavery magic are hard to come by, well I guess not in comparison to what was used to bring you into this world, but I digress.

I will bring a harmless slave, just because we only have one princess and I can't know if you will give such order now then you know."

That said Etgas arranged for the proper slave to be brought over, and the only thing to do was to wait.

The hero after having some water to drink rummaged through his pockets to bring forth a weird deck of cards.

They couldn't have been normal cards, for on the back of the box and the cards themselves a magic circle was depicted.

"What are those?"

Asked Etgas, wary of what could have been a magic item for all he knew.

The lips of the hero disclosed forming a single world, a strange noise, a single word in a weird tongue he never heard before followed, sign the translation magic was having a problem processing that single word.

Then the voice formed by the magic produced a phrase while his lips were sealed.

"Cards used for divination purposes."

The hero sighed showing his discomfort toward the magic, so he had already experienced something similar, considering that and that weird request of his regarding the type of slave he desired to have.

"I see why you may not trust magic by now, yet be at ease, the magic conveyed something I could understand.

So those are cards used for divination?

Are you a diviner?"

Asked Etgas, showing curiosity and repeating the words to the man so he could hear the words in his language.

The hero rolled his eyes listening to Etgas, yet he seemed to understand what the slaver meant.

" Your princess wonders why I speak the way I do.

Why I am trying to keep my speech as simple as possible.

There are things I can say with the knowledge I possess that make no sense here.

Words are power, so… well I can't give you a straight yes or no on your question. "

The hero smiled, picking a few cards from the deck and shuffling them before laying them on the table with his right hand and whispering something, then proceeded to pick one card from the top.

The card showed a tower, struck by lighting and in flames, people throwing themselves from it to the void below.

The hero smiled, amused.

"In the end, it changes nothing, your magic will still be destroyed, that is what this tower means."

He was about to continue when the slave Etgas had called upon finally arrived.

From his face, it was clear that what was a relatively common sight in the empire was not so for him.

The slave was an adolescent, with two ram-like horns, long and messy curly hair resembling the wool of such creatures covering his head.

A pair of tufts was made evident by the curve of the horns, more or less above the line made by his or her eyes.

Long hairy legs with a pair of articulation more than common humans and hooves sprouted below the dirty rags provided to hide the rest of the body from sight.

It was impossible to tell the gender at glance, by the loose tunic, and the apparent young age.

What appeared to be four black fingers or more likely claws formed each hand, two of which longer and two shorter, bent inward the palm forming an almost prehensile grip.

What was visible of the skin of the body was covered in strange glyphs and symbols running up to the neck and wrists taking a shape of a collar and shackles.

The guards of the princess appeared furious almost to the very sight of the being and the closest to Etgas started yelling.

"How do you dare to show this dirty thing to the princess, you damned slaver?"

To which the princess shrugged a little and then spoke, her tone and expression were filled to the brim with nothing but disdain.

"We deem this not appropriate, to say the least, yet we guess we'll be able to enjoy this demon to be slaughtered, it's a fitting end for a beast like this."

The slaver was quite indifferent to the reactions shown, in the end, he knew that in that kingdom the only possible end for a creature like that was a groveling hard labor sentence to which death was way more humane.

The hero, after his initial surprise, appeared somewhat accepting of the situation; he talked with a somewhat calm and cold tone.

"… I see. I should have guessed. We humans never change, do we?"

The hero sighed watching Etgas who shrugged not understanding the point the man was trying to make.

How could he, after all, know the ruling logic of another world?

"So sir Hero, a drop of your blood on the tattoos of this slave and it will be yours, for the duration of his life."

The hero sighed and looked to the knight behind him, pointing at the sharp sword still pointed to his throat.

" I will need a little room here, lady knight, it's not like I'll escape. And an answer from you slaver. How do I give an absolute order to this slave? I mean how do I avoid, in your terms, fumble? Do I simply say … do this or die or ..."

Etgas kind of expected the question since the man had asked specifically for a slave that could die, so he replied professionally

"You have to say something among the like of Upon my life, onto yours, I order: sit."

Said Etgas, and immediately the slave bent the knee and sat on the cold hard floor looking at Etgas growling softly, the slaver ignored the reaction of a slave not yet broken.

"Know this: should you give her an order to kill herself she will do so, but you will bear a similar wound and a similar pain to what she will go through in the process. "

The hero raised an eyebrow to the proclamation of Etgas, looking at the sat slave, to which he came close, circling her and making the floor creak in the process.

The knight was still on her toes, the weapon drawn and ready to strike at a moment's notice.

"She huh?

Well, lass here's the deal I will give you a single order, after which you'll either die on the spot or be freed from the marks of slavery.

Should you be free, will you serve me of your own volition?

I kind of need what's inside that little brain of yours.

I know you understand me, I'm under a spell to translate what I am saying."

The slave appeared puzzled yet answered promptly to the proposition by shaking her head in the negative.

"Were not for this vile magic I would not bow to a mere human, but live my life in peace"

Said the girl to which the hero laughed, softly first and then loudly, it was a burst of forceful laughter, the guy didn't seem to know how to act or didn't care to carry an act.

Once he had done his little maniacal scene thirteen talked to the girl in a weirdly controlled tone spelling and shouting some part.

"I see this goes both ways, m-a-r-v-e-l-o-u-s. FANTASTIC. And I am stuck here as a fix-it-all!?"

He laughed some more slowly caressing his face with his left hand before calming down returning to a more soft-spoken and calm tone.

"Well, lass, hard to break it on ya, but a thing such a life of peace is impossible unless of course you can live alone the rest of your days never interacting with something more intelligent than a rock. So, lass, what you'll be doing once freed?"

The girl appeared puzzled by the action and the questions of the human then answered

"I'll return to my tribe then, and prepare to fight for the demon lord."

The hero smiled closing his eyes, lifting his right hand he caressed his beard, apparently to show off the mark of the hero to the beast girl.

The girl snarled to him understanding immediately what that eerie mark was.

"You… you're the humanity assassin! The enemy of all of us! If it were not of those shackles I would kill you monster!"

The hero, in response, smiled softly, ruffled her hair with his right hand, and then he lowered himself with great difficulty to sit on the floor, looking the girl in straight in the eyes.

Looking closely, and with the light reflected upon the irises, the eyes seemed to change color giving a dark green hue.

"You call me an assassin, and I killed nobody, yet.

Sure they asked me to kill your precious demon lord but look at me.

Did you see how I move, how I breathe, how difficult is for me to even sit?

How could I ever hope to kill somebody with a body like mine?

So I can't be an assassin, nor can I be a hero for they are two sides of the same coin.

Now let's talk reality here, you won't be making alive out of the room unless you're bound to somebody or some magic.

I am by far your best bet in the room but I am human, sadly for you.

You can make a question, any but only one question to see whether or not you can place your trust onto me, what question do you ask me?"

The slaver had to raise an eyebrow to the guile of the hero, and the sheer gall he had to make such a question in such a pose in front of a princess.

To even lower himself to the height of such a beast was unthinkable, yet here he was staring at her horizontally elongated pupils.

The knight would have slain the man in place, had he not been recalled to his duty by a well-placed cough by the princess.

The girl appeared confused, then she thought hard, before telling simply as a kid would:

"What would you ask In such a position, mister no hero?"

The hero laughed again, this time less forcefully than before, and he cut himself a finger on the sword of the knight, placing the still bleeding finger on the shoulder of the slave, making the tattoos glow.

"Upon my life, onto yours, I order: disobey this order."

Etgas, the princess, and the knights in the room had an expression of utter disbelief to what they just heard the man say.

The slave fell to the ground, twitching violently, the magical tattoos glowing ever brightly, Etgas was the first to react, checking the slave, that appeared to have fallen in a magic-induced trance.

"You… what have you done!? What kind of magic did you use with those cards!?"

Said the slaver still unable to figure what was happening in front of his eyes.

That man simply smiled, like he knew something the other didn't.

"No magic, really, a simple plain sentence. One that creates a "

The translation magic failed abruptly producing only a word in a language nobody in that room could understand.

By looking at them the hero laughed heartily shaking his head, slowly and painstakingly returning to his feet while the knights in the room went to protect the princess with their armors and bodies.

"You lack the very concept of defying logic. Maybe you can understand the basic principle but you have no word for the principle itself. Your society simply accepted logic as it was stated."

The hero laughed a little, looking at the slaver with pity in his eyes for him while the tattoos of the girl grew ever brightly he closed his eyes.

An explosion of light radiating from the beast girl expanded in the room and when Etgas was finally able to see again the beast girl laid unconscious on the ground, still alive.

The room laid undamaged if you didn't consider the blackened halo right below the slave; like her body burned the wood of the floor without fire.

To his surprise there was no longer a sign of the magic used upon her body, the hero had, in turn, recovered his cards, shuffling them again, a grin upon his face.

"Rejoice, princess, for you did not call forth a hero, as I told you.

Like you asked to your little silly magic, you did call forth somebody that can save your world, but as a whole.

And in so doing, I will destroy your happy little kingdom, shattering the world you knew until now.

Are you happy?

Now the real question is: will you keep your end of the deal or will you force me to comply with your little play of good versus evil? You being considered evil by your very goddess of course"

The hero pointed those few cards in his hands to the princess with a smile, Etgas was still doubtful if those were or not a magic tool, but seemed to allow him some sort of magic.