The four of them—plus the ever-present collar around Zeo's neck—began making their way around Leymora. Tonight, they would leave the city and begin their journey toward the northern continent. And so, the preparations began.
Their first stop was the central marketplace. A wide, bustling plaza filled with the scent of spices, the clamor of haggling voices, and a vibrant array of goods. Among the many stalls selling food, metalware, and enchanted trinkets, one particular merchant specialized in trading magical raw materials—beast cores, monster parts, horns, feathers, and the like.
Clang!
Fael dropped several large sacks onto the ground, the contents spilling slightly. Inside were beast cores, goblin and hobgoblin remains, and the coarse feathers and sharp horns of second-tier monsters.
The merchant, an old man with a monocle and a trimmed beard, widened his eyes at the haul. "Where in the world did you get all this… this early in the morning?"
But when his gaze landed on Alice—standing calmly behind Zeo with a faintly oppressive aura—he seemed to understand and asked no further. He quickly got to work appraising the materials.
"They're still fresh… though some are a bit damaged. Brutal methods, I assume," he muttered.
Alice and Fael both turned to glare at Zeo—the cause of said 'brutal' damage.
Zeo scratched his cheek awkwardly, pretending to look elsewhere. "Hehe…"
The transaction concluded. They earned a hefty sum: 11 gold coins, 7 silver, and 24 copper. More than enough for basic travel preparations.
They continued through the market, purchasing spare clothes, upgraded gear for Ravyn and Fael, a few magical tools, and a medium-sized horse-drawn carriage. Tents, dry food, and basic potions were also added to their supplies.
But Fael looked exhausted.
Though physically the weakest among them, he had been doing the most manual labor due to his status as a slave—carrying gear, taking notes, bargaining with merchants, and even inspecting the reins and wheels of the carriage.
Seeing this, Zeo finally made a decision.
"We need an extra hand," he said. "To help Fael… and to strengthen our party overall."
It wasn't just pity. Zeo had considered the party's balance as well. Since 90% of their fighting force—primarily the Ifrit race—were aggressive frontline combatants, they desperately needed someone to cover the remaining roles: support, healing, or reconnaissance.
And so, they found themselves in one place: Leymora's Slave District.
A vast zone on the outskirts of the city, filled with wooden pavilions and canvas tents. The air was thick with the clinking of chains, rapid-fire auctions, and the scent of sweat and dust.
Zeo looked ahead. "Let's find someone suitable."
A simple step forward, but one that would change their group dynamic forever.
The slave market was large, laid out like an exclusive trade district—but it felt cold and suffocating. No matter how clean the roads were, the stench of misery lingered.
Zeo and Alice walked side by side, following a slender man in tidy clothes—the manager in charge of this sector. Behind them, Ravyn trailed quietly, her eyes scanning every displayed slave as if memorizing their faces. She said nothing, but Zeo could feel the restrained fury behind her silence.
"Ravyn," Zeo said quietly, tilting his head toward her. "You should wait outside. Stay with Fael and guard our things. If you come in… I'm afraid you won't be able to hold yourself back."
Ravyn clenched her fists. "But… I want to see—"
"Just wait outside. We won't be long," Zeo cut in gently but firmly.
He locked eyes with her. After a long moment, Ravyn finally nodded—reluctantly, with visible frustration. She turned and walked back toward Fael, who sat by the cart, checking their supplies.
With that, Zeo and Alice continued deeper into the slave district.
Their first destination was the Elite Section.
Here, the slaves didn't look like traditional slaves at all. They wore proper clothes, their skin was clean and well-maintained, their bodies toned, and their presence nearly rivaled that of knights or nobles.
But instead of comfort, there was something terrifying beneath the polished surface.
Each bore a high-grade slave seal—glowing faintly across their necks and chests. They were bound within that space. Even if they wanted to run, they couldn't.
Most were noble-born humans sold due to debt or war. Others were Djinn—type elves, dwarves, and even one or two mermaids, posed like living dolls.
Their prices were astronomical.
Zeo noted a few names and abilities but shook his head. They had earned decent coin from their mission, but it needed to be managed carefully for the long term. Recklessness was not an option.
They moved on to the next zone: the Lower Section.
Here, the harsh truth revealed itself.
Demi-humans and criminal slaves were treated without mercy. Their bodies bore wounds, many were emaciated, and all were caged in massive iron cells—restrained by both physical chains and embedded slave seals.
Alice closed her eyes in disgust. Zeo looked away. The air was stifling, and guilt crept over them like fog.
"Do… we really have to buy someone from here?" Alice whispered.
Zeo didn't answer. He asked himself the same thing.
Suddenly—
BOOM!!
An explosion shook the building.
Zeo's instincts screamed.
Without thinking, he and Alice turned and sprinted back to where they had left Ravyn and Fael.
What they saw made their blood boil.
Ravyn was fighting. Surrounded by armed thugs, she darted through their ranks with sharp kicks and nimble footwork. Several were already down, but there were too many. Fael was trying to help with a small dagger, but it was clear he was out of his depth. Direct combat wasn't his specialty.
Though outnumbered, Ravyn held her own. But little by little, their numbers wore her down. She tried blocking attacks from both sides, but one enemy slipped past her blind spot—THUD!—and landed a heavy blow on her hip. Ravyn fell, gasping.
"RAVYN!!" Alice screamed, rushing onto the scene.
The thugs pulled out chains. They were trying to capture her.
But in the blink of an eye—
ZEO appeared.
With a shockwave strike, he shattered the chains mid-air and sent them flying.
He lunged into the crowd and took down several men in an instant.
Within seconds, most of the attackers lay unconscious, their weapons scattered, groaning in pain across the street.
Zeo stood among them, eyes sharp and furious.
"Ravyn. Are you okay?"
Ravyn winced, but stood. "Just a bruise. I can still fight."
Zeo gave a slow nod. His face remained calm, but the air around him shimmered with restrained rage.
One of the thugs, still conscious, began crawling away.
Zeo turned toward him.
"Who are you people? What do you want?" he asked flatly.
No answer.
Alice stepped forward beside him, her hand already summoning the outline of a golem.
Ravyn moved up as well, anger still burning—but now accompanied by a determined glint in her eyes.
A battle might be brewing again.
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