Chapter 6
The upper basin of the Rhone River that runs through the Imperial Capital – aka Uptown.
Unlike the lower districts, which were inhabited by the lower and middle classes of the city, the uptown neighborhoods were inhabited by the upper classes, including the nobility.
Within that Uptown, again, the streets are reserved for the very few of the highest wealth and status, aka the Rothschild Road.
As befits the streets of the richest and most powerful in the empire, the scenery was pristine and the attire of the people coming and going was uniformly formal and elegant.
And tonight there was one mansion where the finest gentlemen and ladies of the city gathered but it wasn't just the people who lived in the city, it was a gathering for the most famous people from all over the continent.
They were here to participate in a very special and secret underground auction that would be held there.
There was no need to go through any complicated or difficult procedures to participate in the auction.
You just had to be able to "walk" in the door.
The sky above the sky, the streets of the Empire's most powerful grandees, where even the wealthy of Uptown dare not peek.
Likewise, there was no need to hide or be particularly vigilant about the illegality and illegitimacy of the auction.
No mere Imperial policeman would dare to enter those streets and investigate in the name of 'law and justice' for those who were there.
That was the reality of the venerable underground auction in the Imperial capital of Bretona and the people there weren't much different.
"100,000,000 gilds!"
The pot-bellied man in charge of the auction shouted. His voice matched the pig mask on his face.
"One hundred million gilds! One hundred million gilds!"
The man's voice was accompanied by shouts and whistles from around the room.
"One hundred and twenty million gilds."
"One hundred and twenty thousand! One hundred and twenty thousand!"
"Forty thousand."
"One hundred and fifty thousand!"
"Two hundred million."
"Two hundred million! The high bid has been broken at two hundred million gilds! Two hundred million! Any more?!"
With that, the voice stopped calling out prices again.
"And with that, the High Elf of the Latria Boreal Forest is yours for two hundred million gilds, gentleman, excuse me, young lady!"
The auctioneer spread his arms and pointed to the item with exaggerated glee.
"Well, I can't wait to see what you'll do with this High Elf slave, in more ways than one!"
Raucous laughter erupted from the room at the clever joke.
The woman in the dress who was the butt of the joke also laughed along with them, waving her fan as if she didn't mind.
As did the pot-bellied man in the pig mask earlier, wearing a crimson fox mask.
None of the guests there were exempt. It's like a petting zoo, with each person wearing an animal mask to hide their identity.
The auction hall is filled with the faces of the enslaved.
Officially, slavery is illegal in the Empire but no one in this room has any doubts about the High Elf being treated as a "commodity," chained like a beast on a stage and so the high elf on stage was handed over to the lady on the spot.
Payment was also made on the spot, without a moment's delay.
The lady grasped the enchanted chain binding the elf as if she were holding a dog's leash, pulling on it as she flaunted it around, roughly crushing the elf's neck.
"Now, then-."
With that one item disposed of, the auctioneer spoke up.
"I hope you enjoyed our appetizer!"
The auctioneer snapped his fingers, as if even the High Elves of the Great Forest were nothing more than appetizers. Expectant glances, lustful glances, and the sound of swallowing breath and saliva could be heard throughout the room.
"I bet you all thought it was impossible."
The auctioneer said.
"And I'm sure some of you, even those with the balls and guts to come here, are afraid – terrified, terrified!"
I know about it. I've heard the rumors. At the same time, until the very end, you wanted to say.
"Surely, you must be afraid."
The crucible of maddening enthusiasm just before now has cooled down and is quiet, like walking by the grave. A silence where even the sound of breathing or the brushing of collars can be heard.
"You wouldn't dare to covet her without that much fear."
In that very silence–she appeared.
"La Pucelle ...."
"Stand, the Holy Maiden...."
"She's a real virgin...."
A few people looked at her and muttered.
As soon as they saw her, they knew. No, they couldn't help but know.
"Jeanne."
She wasn't like the dressed 'goods' of earlier times, each arousing desire in its own way instead she was clad in pure white armor and it was as much a dress as it was an armor, blatantly showing off her figure, her curves, her femininity: her breasts, her waist, her hips.
"Yes, what you see before you now is the Holy Maiden."
The auctioneer said.
"Initial bid, one gil."
There was no mistaking the intent behind that absurdly small sum.
The silent maiden bit her lip wordlessly in humiliation, but even the act of biting her lip did not move her will.
She cannot shed a single drop of blood of her own volition. No self-harm, no self-determination. To do so would wound her precious, priceless flesh.
In front of that noble and beautiful face, stained with despair and despondency-.
"Goddess, Goddess, forgive me...."
Some of them fell to their knees and repented of their misdeeds. Others ran out of the auction house, terrified and fleeing.
At the same time-.
"...gil."
A voice broke through the silence, the sound of bidding clearly audible.
"Three gilds...."
"Five, five gilds."
"Six gilds...."
"...1 billion gilds."
First 2, then 3, then 5, then 6, then a billion.
"Two billion gilds!!"
"2.1 billion!"
"2.3 billion! No, 2.5 billion!"
"Three billion!"
"Five billion gilds!"
One billion, two billion, five billion, and the madness swirled like nothing before.
Driven by the prospect of owning the holy maiden as 'theirs'.
Driven by the desire to defile the virgin's virtue, her purity, her divinity.
The numbers were going up without end.
They went up, up, up, up.
The beast-faced incarnates, driven by their ugly desires, were slobbering like pigs.
There is no hope here.
With that realization, the girl called the Holy Maiden closed her eyes in resignation.
"Still...."
Then, a voice spoke.
"Are you praying for those who mock you?"
It was a man's voice, the first to be heard among the beasts.
*
No one in the auction house was surprised when, without permission, the man removed his animal mask and revealed his face.
They don't know how he got here or why he was breaking the "rules" of the auction but they knew it was a very foolish and pointless thing to do.
This is a gathering of the richest and most powerful men on the continent.
Needless to say, not just anyone can protect them.
The same goes for the level of security that each participant brings with them to protect themselves.
Top-notch swordsmen, top-notch mages, S-ranked mercenaries, each of whom would not be out of place in the backbone of a nation or military.
Above all, since this auction is being held in the name of the Black Snake, there's no way they wouldn't know the weight of that name.
"Ah, this."
The auctioneer said with a bitter smile.
"Apparently, we have a guest who forgot the 'rules' of the auction for a moment."
He turned away from the guards, who were quickly approaching to subdue the man.
"Regrettably, showing your face is prohibited in this venue. Please don't make this any more difficult than it already is, and-"
"Who said it was okay to use that name?"
The man said, putting a cigarette in his mouth. The auctioneer repeated.
"The name?"
"Our name."
With that, a scream erupted.
One of the guards moving to subdue the man, cried out as he was swallowed up by the shadows beneath his feet.
That scream was the beginning as the chandelier that was supposed to shine with grace shattered and shards of glass rained down in a dizzying shower of broken stars.
How dare he run amok, unafraid, in the presence of the richest and most powerful men in the world?
That's what everyone thought until then but no one doubted that the uprising would soon be subdued.
However black swords were wielded, blood was spilled, and screams continued and it suddenly became clear that no one here would be able to escape when the 'special mage' guarding the fox-clad lady who bought the high elf slave could break the binding.
Even the powerful patrons of the auction house began to realize that things were not as they seemed.