The Magic Queen of Another World

Chapter 7

With my nimble and petite physique, I maneuvered through the throng, pulling Emma along with me into the inner circle. I gazed around in awe, never expecting even a slave market to have such grandeur. The market was vast, with many robust individuals maintaining order along the periphery. At the heart of the market stood a spacious, protruding platform, and upon it were bound numerous slaves.

I had never witnessed such a scene before and, tugging at Emma, inquired, "Emma, are all the slaves on display for sale?"

Emma nodded, "Madam, these slaves are sold through auction. The bill of sale for each slave goes to the highest bidder, and that person becomes the new master of the slave."

A pang of sorrow struck me. Were slaves mere commodities to be traded at will? Deprived of human rights, the social system here was indeed regressive. "Emma, can't slaves escape?"

Emma sighed, "How could they escape? Every slave has a mark of servitude branded on their hand. If they flee, they will be discovered and, if caught, will meet a terrible end. Few would sympathize with a slave, and no one would harbor one. Slaves are also beaten at will if they are disobedient, and even if they are killed, no one would raise an eyebrow. Slaves can be bought and sold at the master's whim, and they must obediently fulfill whatever the master commands. Disobedience only leads to punishment."

I was incredulous, realizing for the first time that this world was not as peaceful as the one I had known before. The cruelty here was beyond my comprehension. "Are there no laws? Is there no one to intervene if someone is killed?"

Emma touched my head, then, realizing the informality of the gesture, stood properly behind me. "Madam, your heart is too kind. Remember, they are but slaves, who have no rights to the law. The nobility are the enforcers of the law."

I suddenly realized that I did not understand the essence of this world at all. The thoughts I considered correct here were mere fantasies. Protected by my adoptive parents in this world, I had been sheltered from its harsh realities. I wondered, if I were not a noble lady, would my fate be the same as those slaves? I felt a sense of melancholy; indeed, without status here, one would be trampled upon. Power is the eternal truth of this world.

"Emma, where do all these slaves come from?"

"Miss Lisa, some slaves are sold by impoverished families, some are prisoners of war, and others are captured and sold directly to the slave market. There are many sources of slaves, and almost all noble households have them. Some even compare their wealth by the number of slaves they own." Emma smiled helplessly, directing my gaze to the platform, "Look, those slaves who are strong or beautiful will be auctioned off, while the ugly or infirm are considered lowly slaves, purchasable for just ten copper coins. If a slave has no scars, it indicates obedience, whereas the beaten ones are the disobedient, suffering more as their defiance grows."

I nodded in understanding, inwardly cursing the inhumane slave traders. Though not one to be overwhelmed by compassion, I was not indifferent to such matters. The onlookers scrutinized the slaves on the platform with a casual indifference, seeing them as mere commodities. I felt a sense of helplessness, unable to assist the slaves, and could only mock the inhumanity of the slave traders in my heart.

"Madam, quickly, the slave auction is beginning," Emma said, drawing my attention to the platform.

I looked ahead to see a rather affluent-looking middle-aged man beginning to speak, "Please, everyone, silence."

In the crowded square, his voice resonated as if in my ear. I was puzzled by the volume of his voice, and Emma whispered to me, "Madam, it's a sound amplification spell."

I nodded and continued to watch as the circular platform displayed a row of slaves, bound and kneeling on the ground. The man surveyed the assembly and continued with a chuckle, "Ladies and gentlemen, take a look."

He lifted the head of a female slave beside him, a rather delicate one, "This one has a pleasing appearance, and, hehe..." He laughed, abruptly grabbing her breast, causing her to cry out in pain, and the impatient bidders below began their offers.

"I'll offer a silver coin."

"I'll offer two silver coins."

"I'll offer five silver coins."

"Very well, this female slave is now yours, sir." After the exchange of money and the bill of sale, the next transaction began.

Watching the slaves being led away expressionlessly without resistance, I felt a heaviness in my heart. Had they lost the will to resist? How much torment had they endured to give up on their belief in freedom? They were but walking corpses now, devoid of hope, merely following their master's orders. Indeed, I had lived a blissful life, never considering those at the bottom. Why didn't I have the power to help them!

"Madam." Emma called out to me anxiously.

"What is it?" I asked calmly.

"Nothing, but Madam, your face is rather pale. Are you feeling unwell?" Emma looked at me with concern.

"I'm fine." I shook my head, patting my cheek, no longer wallowing in self-pity. I was not one to give up easily, nor was I one to lose faith. If one gives up on their beliefs, their life loses all value. Though I couldn't help them now, I would one day use my power to give them hope.

As I pondered, a commotion arose from the platform. Curiosity drew me to look, and I saw the man who had been selling slaves brutally whipping a young boy, around thirteen or fourteen years old, his face obscured by blood and injuries. He fiercely bit the man's leg, causing him to cry out in pain and kick the boy with his other leg. The boy flew off like a broken kite, landing at the base of the platform. The onlookers formed a circle around him, scrutinizing him.

"You wretched brat, as a slave, you should know your place. Are you looking for death?" The man's curses deepened my disgust. Was this how they treated slaves?

The boy suddenly lifted his head, his bloodshot eyes filled with hatred boring into the man. The man staggered back, and the crowd around the boy retreated in fear.

What a pair of eyes! One was golden, the other silver, sharp as blades against the backdrop of his bloodied face and inner fury. I was also stunned.

"Ah! The child of the devil!" Emma exclaimed in shock.

The crowd erupted in a chorus of curses.

"He's the child of the devil!"

"Kill him, he's the child of the devil!"

"What is the child of the devil?" I asked, puzzled.

"People with heterochromatic eyes are considered cursed, the children of the devil!" Emma said fearfully.

I shook my head. Just because of the color of their eyes, they were called the children of the devil? They were just rare hybrids, and besides, golden and silver eyes were quite beautiful!

"You little b*st*rd, if I hadn't thought you'd fetch a good price, would I have let you live until now! You dare to resist, I'll beat you to death!" Another whip came down.

"Stop!" I shouted, casting a defensive spell, and the man's whip could not move any further.

"Who is it?" The man shouted in anger.

"It's me." I stepped forward.

"Madam." Emma held me back, but I signaled her to let go and walked forward.

Knowing she couldn't dissuade me, Emma followed behind.

"Ah, a beautiful young lady." He looked at me with ill intent.

I walked straight to the boy and pointed at him, "I want him!"