Chapter 37

“Th-this is clothing made from the silk of an Arachne. It’s a mystical thread woven by the spider queen Arachne. It has a flexibility that cannot be cut even by a sword.”

As the conversation turned to his area of expertise, Ropermong excitedly explained the collection. I casually nodded along while surveying the surroundings.

The building had three floors.

The walls of the corridor were densely decorated with paintings, and the entire third floor was an arcade. Glass cases containing art pieces lined the pathway.

I may think I know the value of slaves better than anyone, but I’m an amateur when it comes to art. Even I could tell at a glance that these pieces were expensive, radiating a certain glow.

“Oh, this. This was also extremely hard to obtain. It’s a helmet supposedly used by the ancient warrior Ragna. It’s said that wearing it will turn even a coward into a valiant warrior.”

“Have you confirmed that?”

Ropermong replied in a firm tone.

“Oh, dear, it seems the Death God isn’t aware. A rare artifact should not be used carelessly.”

“Hmm, that’s true. If mishandled, the lore and mystique of the artifact could be ruined.”

“Precisely. An artifact must be cherished not as equipment, but as the artifact itself, to preserve its true value.”

“I think I understand. I also sometimes hesitate to touch certain slaves, fearing I might tarnish their beauty if I interfere.”

This time, Ropermong nodded seriously.

“Hmm, I can relate. We seem to communicate well, Death God. I have a feeling we could become good friends.”

“That’s mere coincidence. I just thought the same.”

Having such a well-connected ally wouldn’t be a bad thing.

Of course, once I had taken everything of value, I’d discard him.

“Hahaha.”

“Ho, hohoho.”

By the time we had almost completed our tour from the first to the third floor.

“This is the extent of my collection. There are, well, more exquisite items, but…”

“It’s only natural to hesitate showing such treasures to outsiders. I understand completely.”

“Thank you for understanding. Once our bond grows stronger, I’ll show you then.”

“I’ll be looking forward to that day.”

Thanks to my remarkable social skills, Ropermong’s gaze toward me had changed. He seemed to see me as a true customer now.

I felt that with just a bit more effort, we could become friends. Not that I wanted to, though.

“Well then, let’s head to the reception room. We need to discuss the promised compensation for the apple.”

We descended to the second floor, where the reception room was located. As a servant opened the door, Ropermong entered. I paused outside the door instead of following him in.

“Why are you just standing there? Aren’t you coming in?”

“I would like to speak with the Master privately… Miss Arfia, would you mind waiting outside for a moment?”

“Huh? What?”

“What? What are you talking about?”

Arfia exclaimed in surprise.

I gave her an appropriate wink.

“It’s nothing serious.”

“No, but still…”

“Do you trust me?”

“….”

“I trust you, Miss Arfia.”

With a sulky expression, Arfia let out a deep sigh.

“You saying that is cheating.”

“Haha.”

“I’ll wait outside, but if anything happens, make sure to scream. I’ll break down the door if I have to.”

“Understood.”

I entered the room, and the door soon closed behind me.

***

The reception room had only two occupants.

Ropermong drank tea with a nervous gesture. He glanced down, but would steal glances to check the man in front of him. A man who sipped tea as if maintaining his composure, as if he were a noble.

The Death God, Carami.

I had long heard of his infamy. A slave trader who buys but never sells. He disposes of slaves that are either tired or defective.

A Death God who lives for the thrill of killing slaves.

Ropermong shivered at the thought, feeling as if he could smell blood. He tightly clutched the warm teacup to calm himself.

“Wh-why have you asked to see me alone? I have business with an Elf too, you know.”

“Before that, is this room soundproof?”

“…C-could you wait a moment?”

Something felt off. Ropermong tapped the crystal set on the table. The ripple emanating from the crystal enveloped the room.

“This is a soundproof magical device. Even an Elf won’t be able to hear us.”

“That’s a relief.”

*Thud.*

Carami, who had been savoring his tea, placed the cup down. He crossed his legs and rested both hands on his knees. The slight tilt of his chin gave off an arrogant demeanor, as if he held superiority over the world.

Even the lord of Noctar wouldn’t act this boldly in front of him. Ropermong swallowed nervously, waiting for Carami to speak.

“Master Merchant.”

“Wh-what is it?”

“Do you want an Elf?”

With no sign of hesitation, Ropermong spluttered his tea.

“W-what?! What are you suddenly saying?”

“I prefer to be straightforward.”

His tone suggested he already knew everything. Ropermong’s eyes darted around as if in a panic.

Did he just ask if I want an Elf?

Of course I do!

I even tried to spend a fortune to abduct an Elf for my collection.

That attempt had failed spectacularly, and for a while, everything had felt gloomy for Ropermong. He had even skipped meals, so what more explanation was needed?

Then he discovered Arfia, a bluebird that he encountered lost in the forest. Her beautiful appearance perfectly matched the fairies he had heard about countless times.

Ropermong’s eyes went wild. He wanted to possess her by any means necessary. That’s why he had invited both of them today and prepared thoroughly.

A mercenary he had recruited was lurking nearby in this very room. A signal would have him spring out and subdue the two.

While Ropermong was waiting to give the signal, he found himself bewildered as Carami took the initiative.

Could it be that Carami was probing his hidden intentions? His endless black eyes seemed to penetrate all things, rendering any form of deceit nearly impossible before them.

Ropermong nodded his head.

“Y-yeah…”

“Are you targeting the slavers outside?”

“Y-yes…”

“Hmmm…”

As Carami exhaled slowly, Ropermong flinched. His heavy body looked like a timid student being reprimanded by a teacher.

“I understand your desire to possess an Elf. I’ve had those feelings in the past. However, to forcibly turn an Elf, a guest, into your collection? I’m deeply disappointed.”

“B-but you’re a slave trader, you know what that means! An Elf! One of the higher races! If you don’t feel greed upon seeing such a countenance, then you’re not a collector!”

“Will an Elf who is forced to knee under power ever submit? A tamed dog is no better than an untamed one. What value does a collection have if you can’t proudly showcase it to others?”

“…….”

Ropermong’s mouth fell shut. Carami’s words perfectly pierced Ropermong’s innermost thoughts.

Collecting rare items has great significance, but there’s also a strong desire to boast to others. The looks of admiration and envy.

How delightful it is to receive those gazes. How else could he have planned to hold a Slave Festival to choose the best slave?

But such things didn’t matter anymore. Regardless of the process, he longed to possess an Elf.

The allure given off by an Elf was enough to drive one mad.

“W-what if I begged you like this?”

“Are you asking me to betray my employer?”

“If he’s an employer, that’s even less relevant! I paid to hire him. Once the job is done, we won’t have anything to do with each other. Think of today as that day!”

“Hmmm…”

Carami appeared to be deep in thought. Ropermong saw this as his chance and pressed on relentlessly.

“If you just help me… then I’d offer you one of those rare items you saw earlier. No, two! How does that sound? You won’t find such an incredible offer anywhere else!”

If he sold it at auction, it could easily buy hundreds of slaves.

For a slave trader who’d risk his life for profit, this was an offer he couldn’t refuse.

Carami wore a serious expression as he deliberated. Ropermong’s mouth was so dry, he could barely spit out another word.

A long time passed.

Carami broke the silence with a bright smile.

“Alright. I’ll accept.”

“R-really?”

“There’s no reason to decline when the outcome is obvious. Besides, I know that fellow’s weakness, so it should be easy to capture him without much effort.”

Ropermong clenched his fist.

Yes, it doesn’t matter how much of a Death God he is, he’s still just a slave trader. On the other hand, I’m the owner of a trading company.

“Indeed, we really seem to get along! I was worried about this, but if you’re helping, this operation will surely succeed!”

“It seems you had planned this ahead of time. Could you let me in on the details? Then I can form a more perfect plan.”

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I? We’re basically in the same boat now!”

Unable to contain his excitement, Ropermong began talking animatedly, completely oblivious to Carami’s smile, which concealed his true intentions.

***

As time passed, Arfia grew anxious.

Carami hadn’t come out, and even after straining her ears, she couldn’t hear a thing.

At some point, all sounds from beyond the room had completely vanished. It was safe to assume they were soundproofed.

What could they be discussing?

Had something happened?

….

‘Huh?’

Why am I worried about that man?

Even if he saved me, he’s the one who turned me into a slave.

If Carami dies, the shackles on my soul would also break. I could return to the forest a free person.

‘But my soul is already tainted.’

Is there even any meaning in returning to the forest now? It might not be so bad just staying with Carami like this….

….

‘Huh?’

My thoughts keep drifting in strange directions. The distractions invade my mind. This all started because of Carami recklessly stirring up trouble and making me worry about an Elf.

Just wait until you come out. I’ll give you a lesson on the essence of Elves.

Creeeak.

Finally, the door opened.

The moment I was waiting for, Carami crawls out.

“Don’t move. If you so much as twitch, I’ll put a hole in this guy’s neck.”

But he wasn’t alone—there was a woman who hadn’t been there moments ago.

With dark yet pale skin.

Contrasting with dark hair, she had white hair and eyes reminiscent of the depths of the sea.

Her ears were long like Arfia’s, and she was commonly referred to as a Dark Elf. The Dark Elf had a dagger pointed at Carami’s neck.

“Haha, it turned out like this. I didn’t expect you to hide a mercenary inside.”

Arfia blinked blankly at the suddenly unfolding situation, while Carami laughed carelessly, even with a blade pressed at his throat.

“Drop your weapon. Unless you want to see your friend die.”

“Um, Miss Arfia? Could you please lower your bow?”

After blinking for a long time, Arfia covered her eyes with her hand.