Chapter 39

"Hey, Shemul, isn't this strange?"

Cangma, wrapped in the hastily tailored clothes Hopkins had arranged, scrutinized his own appearance.

The outfit was similar to what the townspeople wore, a dress and trousers, but the fabric seemed to be of high quality. However, by Cangma's standards, the fabric was rather coarse and could hardly be called high-quality.

He wore a large shoulder wrap embroidered in a style reminiscent of ethnic clothing over his coat, and on his head, a blue cylindrical hat without a brim, with a thin cloth hanging down the back.

"I don't know much about human clothing, but I think it suits you and has a foreign flair," Shemul said.

Cangma let out a sigh of relief at Shemul's words.

He had intended to match his appearance to the image of someone from a distant eastern country, but Hopkins himself didn't know what the eastern countries were like, so he had only gathered items that seemed appropriate.

Still, Cangma's hair and skin color were not common in this area, so he might pass as someone from a foreign land.

"Hey, you two. That's the slave trader's mansion over there," Hopkins called out from the driver's seat of the covered wagon, pointing ahead.

The mansion Hopkins pointed to was a large one surrounded by a high earthen wall. The roof visible beyond the wall was not the thatched or wooden roofs commonly seen in the town, but a dome-shaped roof made of bricks.

"I'm sorry, but I don't want to deal with slave traders, so I'll wait here," Hopkins said, slowing down the wagon.

Cangma had thought Hopkins was reluctant to introduce him to a trader who might bring disaster to the town, but Hopkins had his own reasons for avoiding slave traders.

The slaves handled by slave traders included those who had sold themselves due to poverty or criminals who had lost their freedom as punishment, but the most common were war captives and conquered peoples sold into slavery.

In a world where the Holy Church, which advocates the extermination of sub-humans, is gaining influence, the sub-humans, or other races, are the largest commodity for slave traders.

Therefore, slave traders who want to acquire sub-human slaves have colluded with the Holy Church's clergy, and have even incited wars between sub-humans in various countries.

Furthermore, the Holy Church, knowing that the slave trade of sub-humans brings in huge profits, has said that handling the "unclean" sub-humans is heretical and has made the slave trade subject to Church approval, creating a system where slave traders pay large sums of alms to the Church.

However, the slave traders have taken advantage of the Church's approval to argue that they belong to the Church, and have secured various privileges such as exemptions from tolls and tariffs on roads and bridges in various places.

Thus, the slave traders have gained profits far greater than the alms they pay, but this has also earned them intense resentment from other merchants.

No one would feel good about paying taxes while the slave traders, waving the authority of the Church, are exempt from taxes.

Moreover, the rumor that some slave traders secretly handle goods other than slaves is often whispered among merchants.

If untaxed goods are really being brought in, it would be a matter of life and death for other merchants. Whether this is true or not is uncertain, but the deep rift between slave traders and other merchants is a fact.

Now, the relationship between the Merchant Guild, where slave traders and other merchants gather, is said to be one where they smile at each other while holding knives behind their backs.

This is the reason why Hopkins avoids slave traders.

When the covered wagon stopped in front of the house, Cangma went to the slave trader's mansion with only Shemul.

At the gate of the earthen wall, two well-built men with shaved heads and spears stood guard.

Cangma walked up to them with a confident stride to avoid arousing suspicion and said, "Could you please announce me to the master of this house?"

One of the gatekeepers said, "Wait here," and went into the mansion.

After a while, a portly middle-aged man accompanied by a gatekeeper came out.

Cangma showed his palms to the man, as if presenting his hands, and bowed, saying the greeting he had learned from Hopkins.

"I have come to bring you fortune and wealth."

According to Hopkins, this is a greeting used between merchants.

Showing both palms to the other person indicates that one is not carrying a weapon, meaning, "I have no ill intentions toward you." It also implies that one has brought invisible fortune to the other person.

The man also made a similar gesture and replied, "May fortune and wealth be with you. I am Gurocacos, the master of this mansion."

Gurocacos, who introduced himself, looked Cangma over from head to toe.

"So, who are you and what brings you here?"

"Yes. I have come from a distant eastern country, sent by my father, to do business here. My name is Soma."

He considered using a pseudonym, but since he was not yet known, he decided to use his real name rather than a clumsy fake one.

"Hmm. From the eastern country, huh..."

"I was looking to acquire a slave and heard that you are the best slave trader in this town."

Cangma's flattery made Gurocacos snort as if to say, "Of course."

"Well, indeed, we are the best."

Gurocacos looked at Shemul standing next to Cangma.

"But, you have such a fine specimen next to you, and you still want a slave?"

"Yes. I heard that Zoan is causing trouble in this area, so I want a guard slave other than Zoan."

"Ah, I see. Well, come this way."

Cangma followed Gurocacos through the gate and into the mansion. The mansion, made of baked bricks rather than the sun-dried bricks commonly seen in the town, displayed Gurocacos' wealth.

After passing through a short corridor inside the mansion, Cangma and the others emerged back into the sunlight.

It was a vast open space, more like a square than a courtyard, with the mansion surrounding it. The first floor of the mansion, which was surrounded by iron bars, was a series of cells, while the second floor seemed to be living quarters. The sight of the cells surrounding the square, divided into several rooms, was reminiscent of a zoo.

However, the creatures inside the cells were not animals.

In the dim cells, slaves huddled together. The smell of sweat and grime, which they had not been allowed to wash off properly, made Cangma press his nose.

"We have all kinds of slaves. Agricultural slaves, gladiators, high-class intellectual slaves who can teach and manage property, and of course, female slaves," Gurocacos said with a lecherous smile.

Gurocacos sat down on a bench under a tree planted in the middle of the square for shade, and called over a female slave who was only wearing a loincloth, despite it being winter, to pour wine into a cup on the table.

The brown-skinned female slave, who appeared to be from the south, was shivering and had goosebumps. The sight of her exposed, full breasts was more painful to look at than pleasurable, considering her circumstances.

"Still, you're lucky. We have a lot of lively slaves right now."

At Gurocacos' words, Cangma hurriedly focused his attention on him.

"Is something happening?"

"Don't you know? The king's birthday is coming up soon. He's turning forty this year, and they say it will be celebrated more grandly than ever.

For that event, they are collecting sub-human slaves. Since there are only Zoan in this area, they are importing slaves from distant lands through Geborah. In about five days, a caravan of slave traders, who supply the royal family of Holmea, will come from Geborah, and they will go to the capital together to make a good profit."

Gurocacos drained the cup of wine in one go and played with the empty cup in his hand.

"So, what kind of slave do you want?"

"A sub-human, strong and, if possible, intelligent."

"A sub-human, strong and intelligent... "

Gurocacos repeated Cangma's request, letting his gaze wander for a while.

"Hey! Bring Dovarin here!"

When Gurocacos shouted, one of the slave overseers brought a slave out of the cell and led him over with a chain.

Cangma was taken aback by the sight of the slave brought before him.

The slave was no taller than a child but had a sturdy build like a rock. His face was covered with a gray beard, and his face, hidden by disheveled hair, was etched with deep wrinkles like the rings of an old tree. His most distinctive features were his strong, determined eyes and a large, round nose.

It was difficult to guess his age from his appearance, but he exuded a dignified air that suggested he had lived a long life.

However, his body showed no signs of age. With only a loincloth on, his thick muscles rippled under his skin with every step he took.

He was shackled with a wooden collar and chains, and iron balls were attached to his ankles. Despite this, he stood with his chest out, and the overseer holding the chains seemed to be more like a servant following him.

Cangma's voice rose with excitement at the sight of a race familiar from many fantasy novels.

"Is this a dwarf?"

"Yes. His name is Dovarin. He was a dwarf warrior who led other dwarves in battle in the distant empire."

Gurocacos took the whip from the overseer's hand and struck Dovarin's thick chest.

"Look at this sturdy body! It could deflect a spear or a sword. And these strong arms. If you get hit by this guy, you're done! And he's smart. After all, he led many dwarves as a warrior. You don't come across such a find often."

A red mark appeared on Dovarin's chest where he was struck, but his expression did not change.

However, Cangma noticed that Dovarin's right hand had clenched slightly at the moment he was struck. It was not a reflexive movement from pain, but a deliberate clenching of only his right hand.

"I like him. How much is he?"

"Hah! This guy could be the star of a gladiatorial show. If I were to sell him... let's see, about eight hundred silver coins, I'd say."

Gurocacos snorted, as if mocking the idea that Cangma could afford it.

"Understood. --Shemul, go get the money from the covered wagon."

"Huh?"

However, when Cangma answered immediately, Gurocacos let out a surprised exclamation.

Shemul, who had been told to get the bag of silver coins from the covered wagon, brought it over and piled it in front of Gurocacos. As the bags were piled up, Gurocacos' eyes grew wider and wider.

"Eight hundred silver coins. Please check."

Cangma's words brought Gurocacos back to his senses, and he hurriedly called for his servants. The servants took the silver coins out of the bags, checked their quality by tapping them with their fingernails, and lined them up in grooves carved into wooden boards. The grooves were just long enough to hold ten silver coins, and the servants used them to count the coins.

When the servants finished counting all the coins and nodded, Gurocacos looked at Cangma with a surprised expression, as if asking, "Is this really okay?"

"Can I have him for this?"

"O-of course, sir!"

Gurocacos hurriedly answered, fearing that Cangma might change his mind.

"Is there any procedure needed?"

"No, he's still a fresh slave without a brand, so you