The Indomitable Martial King

Sillan, sitting on the sofa, kept glancing around and said, “This is my first time at an elf auction house.”

While the Vasily Kingdom did have orc auction houses, there were no elf or dwarf auction houses. Orcs, whose lifespans were similar to humans and who reached maturity quickly, could be bred and sold anywhere. However, elves and dwarves, with their long lifespans, required considerable wealth and recognition to be traded. Thus, Sillan had never seen an elf slave auction before coming to the Chatan Principality.

“It seems they take good care of this place, at least.”

Looking through the reception room window into the auction house, Sillan appeared pleased. Orc auction houses were often dirty and rundown, giving off the impression that the slaves were treated very poorly.

In contrast, the elf auction house, with its splendid and clean buildings, felt like they had entered a royal palace. Sillan thought the elves might actually be happy living in such a place.

Repenhardt, feeling suffocated, sighed repeatedly. He casually asked, “Even if they are well taken care of, it’s still a life of slavery. Do you really think that’s happiness?”

“Huh? They were originally living wild lives in the forest, right? Perhaps being raised by humans, without worrying about hunger or death, would make them happier?”

“Um…….”

Repenhardt closed his mouth. Even the kind-hearted Sillan didn’t question the reality of elves being sold as slaves. This made Repenhardt realize why his previous incarnation was called a Demon King. It was natural to think that way. And he also realized the mistakes of his past life.

To him, other races were beings to be cared for. He was powerful and an absolute mage. He had the power to right the world’s wrongs on sight.

Had he been his former self, he would have demolished this auction house and freed the elves. But he couldn’t now. Without magical power, he had to endure the unfairness. It was infuriating, yet it also brought new enlightenment.

‘Right, no matter how much I force it, people’s perceptions won’t change. They would only feel fear.’

Racial integration should not have been about sheltering others within one’s embrace, but rather, these races themselves needed to stand up, protect themselves, and declare they were not slaves. Of course, in his past life, other races did attempt this, but in front of the absolute Demon King Repenhardt, people only saw him. They failed to see the other races behind him.

‘I need to establish a different empire, unlike the one from my past life.’

Not the Dark Empire of Demon King Repenhardt, but an empire of the other races, the Antares Empire. Only then might people’s long-standing perceptions change.

“Well, regardless of the approach, regaining magical power is the priority.”

Amidst these thoughts, the door opened, and a dignified middle-aged man entered the room. He was one of the slave traders from Elvenheim who had guided Repenhardt and Sillan here.

“You’ve been waiting a long time, guests.”

Following him, twenty elven women entered calmly. The slave trader proudly introduced them while lining up the elves.

“These are the Slayers, the pride of our Elvenheim auction house.”

The elven women were only wearing thin, mesh garments, barely covering their modesty. Given the evident purpose of those purchasing Slayers, showcasing their bodies was considered an essential part of the sale. Sillan flinched and covered his eyes at this blatant display of female bodies.

“Uh, ugh!”

“Perhaps this was too much for the young lady? My apologies.”

The slave trader looked embarrassed. Normally, the standard was to present them naked, but since the guest had brought a girl along, there was no choice. He thought he had dressed them considerably (?) for the occasion, yet this reaction was as seen. Normally, Sillan might have taken offense to being called a young lady, but he was still unable to find a place to rest his eyes and continued to look around aimlessly.

‘What kind of person brings a young girl to a place like this?’

The guest looked respectable on the outside but seemed to have a perverted streak, the slave trader thought. Still, as a veteran, he didn’t show his distaste and started describing the “products.”

“Each one is highly trained, capable of menial tasks and diligent in nocturnal duties. They are all virgins, of course. We pride ourselves on being one of the most reputable places in the Chatan Principality.”

The elves, exposed like fish in a market, unable to even show a hint of shame on their faces, presented a grotesque sight. Repenhardt lamented the situation.

‘To think that the descendants of great spirits, the forest fairies, would be reduced to such a state!’

However, he currently lacked the power to change the regime. While his strength was undoubtedly formidable, changing the entire system would require an even more powerful magic.

‘First, let’s rescue Siris.’

One step at a time. With that resolve, Repenhardt glanced over the aligned elves. He then turned around, puzzled, to look at the slave trader.

“Are these all of Elvenheim’s slayers?”

“Of course.”

Siris was nowhere to be seen. Surely, she should have been living as a slayer in this market? Confused, Repenhardt tried to recall. It was certain. Siris should definitely be here at this time.

Misinterpreting Repenhardt’s expression, the slave trader cautiously asked,

“Do they not meet your satisfaction?”

It wasn’t a matter of satisfaction. What he wanted was Siris alone.

‘But how exactly should I find Siris?’

Since he was the one who had given her the name Siris, she would only be known by a number here. Mulling over it, Repenhardt hesitantly spoke,

“Um, is there a slayer with a bit of a darker complexion?”

“Ah, we don’t deal with Gray Elves.”

“Not a Gray Elf, but a High Elf with a… darker complexion, do you have any like that?”

Somehow, as he spoke, he felt like he had become someone picking out an elf slave. The slave trader looked at Repenhardt as if he was indeed a peculiar one.

‘It seems he has a slightly perverted side after all.’

Many customers had come to buy elf slaves, but this was the first time he had heard such an odd request. How deeply into elf mania must one be to be this picky?

“You have a unique taste. You want a High Elf, but not one with white skin?”

“That’s not… I mean…”

Repenhardt stammered, trying not to appear as a pervert as much as possible. Of course, to no avail. Sillan looked at him as if he was astonishing,

“Ah, you talk this and that about the elf slave system, and now you’re being picky about types?”

“That’s not what I…”

“Hmph! I knew it. I could tell when you said you came to buy an elf.”

Sillan snorted derisively at Repenhardt. While he spoke of the slaves’ happiness and such, when it came down to actually buying, his preferences were clearly reflected.

Suddenly, the words of a Sister of Philanence from the orphanage came to mind.

[ All men, big or small, are perverts. ]

Indeed! Feeling triumphant, Sillan nodded her head. Amidst his frustration, Repenhardt deliberately ignored Sillan. The slave merchant chuckled and then gestured as if he had remembered something.

“Ah, there is such a Slayer, but…”

Repenhardt interjected, curious, “Is there?”

“Well, I’ll bring her out… Oh, no, would you like to go and see her? It’s a bit difficult to bring her out right now. It would be a bit inconvenient to make you wait too long.”

“It’s fine.”

Repenhardt immediately stood up from his seat. He wanted to find Siris as soon as possible. The slave merchant guided him as they left the room.

In the large atrium inside the auction house, Repenhardt and Sillan looked around incessantly. Sillan was merely curious, but Repenhardt hoped to catch a glimpse of Siris.

In the central garden of the atrium, young Elves were exercising with elderly Elven women. The slave merchant kindly explained, “They need appropriate exercise from a young age to grow into slender bodies. We develop various products, from innocent and delicate types to those with ample chests and slender waists, using our unique exercise methods.”

Repenhardt couldn’t help but grimace at the imagination, but the slave merchant, who led the way, didn’t notice. They continued walking through the atrium. As they entered a building connected to the atrium, they came across a dining hall. It seemed to be a dining hall for slaves. Since it wasn’t mealtime, the dining hall was empty, but some Elven slaves inside were busy preparing food.

“At Elvenheim, we always feed the Elves with fresh vegetables and high-quality grains. Elves raised on quality food emit a subtle fruity fragrance from their skin.”

“We’ve heard the explanation, so please guide us quickly.”

Finally losing his temper, Repenhardt snapped. The slave merchant looked puzzled for a moment but then quickened his pace. Eventually, they reached a large iron gate guarded by two sturdy men. The slave merchant quickly said, “We’ve come to see number 148.”

The gate opened, revealing a large arena.

“Taah!”

“Haap!”

With a vibrant shout, the clang of metal resonated loudly throughout the arena. Inside, about a dozen young elves were fighting, each wielding a weapon.

“These are the unripe Slayer candidates. They are trained in combat like this.”

In an instant, Repenhardt’s eyes widened. In the middle of the arena, he saw an expressionless elf girl fighting against the elf children.

“And that female is the Slayer.”

The elf girl dodged the children’s blades, her delicate platinum hair fluttering and shining. Tears welled up in Repenhardt’s eyes.

‘Ah!’

Instead of the long hair from his memories, she had a short bob that reached her shoulders, and despite being dressed in rags that covered her body, the dazzling radiance did not lose its light.

“Something went wrong with her upbringing, a defective product returned three times, hence unsellable to customers.”

The elf children attacked her in succession. They wielded cold steel swords, but the girl had only a stick made by rolling and sticking paper together. She wasn’t even given a wooden sword, lest it bruise the precious merchandise.

“Her skills are good, but her personality is too cold and proud, which diminishes her marketability.”

With just the paper stick, she couldn’t possibly block the swords. She tried to dodge, but with each attempt, the blades grazed her body, staining her skin with blood. Yet, she did not grimace. She simply avoided the attacks and looked for openings without emotion.

“We can’t sell a defective product, and we can’t just dispose of something we’ve invested money into, so she’s used as a practice target to develop the children’s combat instincts.”

Even as she staggered from malnutrition, in a decidedly disadvantageous situation, the elf girl did not lose her fighting spirit and continued to engage in the duel.

“Surely, teaching swordsmanship involves directly hitting and cutting flesh as an important experience, doesn’t it?”

Despite bleeding from wounds all over her body and barely able to walk, she still did not give up and devotedly faced the present.

Repenhardt moaned and murmured,

“Si, Siris…….”