Chapter 7
The owner of the White Owl Inn had a sinking feeling that something had gone terribly wrong.
The blond man had appeared not long after Bron and his companions left.
She had been humming cheerfully behind the counter while counting the payment Bron had given her when the man walked in without making a sound and immediately asked about a young woman. At first, she thought he was talking nonsense.
Then she saw the bearded man standing behind him.
Her mind went completely blank.
“You two know each other, don’t you? Well then, let’s skip the wasted time and get straight to the point.”
The blond man had spoken with a pleasant smile.
What followed, however, was anything but pleasant.
As a result, she now found herself tied up like a trapped rat in the most pitiful state imaginable.
“You idiot! Thanks to you, we’re all going to die! Damn it! Built like a mountain bandit, and you got taken down by that pale pretty boy?”
The woman spat curses at the battered man beside her, whose face was swollen beyond recognition. His thick beard had become stiff with dried blood.
“Shut up. You think I wanted to get caught? That blond bastard’s a mage. Damn it! I had a bad feeling from the moment we picked up that woman at the monastery. You said she was the Marquis’s daughter? Damn it all.”
“Enough with your bad feelings! Figure out how we’re getting out of here instead. How long has that blond guy been gone?”
The moment she finished speaking, footsteps echoed from the shabby wooden door.
“My lord, this way.”
The blond man opened the door and descended the stairs.
Behind him, a black-haired man slowly entered the room, calmly surveying his surroundings. Judging by the strong scent of earth clinging to him, he had just come through the forest.
“Loras. What is this?”
Tristan asked in an emotionless voice as he looked at the two captives bound and beaten nearly beyond recognition.
“The coachman who brought Lady Eliana here, and the owner of this inn. Apparently there’s a novice monk named Bron at Helio Monastery. This coachman says he brought the young lady to Alderon at Bron’s request.”
Loras pointed at the heavily bearded man.
“I-I don’t know the details! I only drove the carriage for money, same as always! I swear I don’t know where they went! That woman knows more than I do! Please… just let me go!”
“You crazy bastard! Trying to save your own skin? The number of people you’ve transported over the years would fill dozens of rum barrels! And now you’re pretending you know nothing?”
The innkeeper screamed in rage.
The noise made Tristan frown as he surveyed the room.
Hidden behind an oversized wardrobe that looked strangely out of place in such a cramped inn room was this concealed chamber.
Bloodstained ropes lay scattered across the floor alongside bottles of medicine.
There was also another door leading outside.
“So they lure guests staying in that room here… then smuggle them out through the back.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Loras shivered in disgust.
“They serve food laced with sleeping drugs and make the victims ‘stay the night.’ Once they lose consciousness, they’re brought here, tied up, stuffed into empty rum barrels, and exchanged for real barrels when the buyers arrive. No one thinks twice about barrels coming and going from an inn.”
He grimaced.
“That Bron fellow disguised himself as a monk and preyed on people with nowhere else to go before selling them into slavery. He’s complete scum.”
“There are no slave markets left in Storn.”
Brushing back his black hair, Tristan spoke quietly.
Not long after Emperor Martin III ascended the throne, he had outlawed the buying and selling of slaves throughout the Empire.
The nobles had fiercely opposed the decree at first.
But as the Emperor steadily consolidated his authority, one after another they abandoned the practice.
Storn, the territory governed by Marquis Crowd, had banned slave trading long ago.
In fact, it was well known that the Marquis himself had personally eradicated the slave market within his lands.
“So I was questioning them about where they took the young lady, but neither of them would open their mouths.”
Loras twirled a sharp dagger in his hand with a troubled expression.
Tristan silently stared at the bloody wound across the innkeeper’s neck.
“M-My lord… please spare me. I only provided the place because they told me to. I don’t know anything else. I swear it!”
The innkeeper burst into tears and clung desperately to the hem of Tristan’s trousers.
He didn’t even blink.
“‘You know nothing,’ you say.”
His voice was cold enough to freeze the room.
“Loras… you’ve grown soft.”
The innkeeper slowly looked up at him.
Having spent her entire life swindling and exploiting others, she recognized danger on instinct alone.
This man…
…was truly dangerous.
Overwhelmed by terror, she released his trouser leg and scrambled backward.
“Sigh. I really don’t like torture,” Loras muttered.
“It uses more magic than you’d think. Still… I can’t let people say I’ve gone soft.”
A dark blue aura instantly flared to life around his hand.
“W-Wait! Please, wait!”
The innkeeper shrieked in horror.
“A-a supply ship! I heard Pito talking about a supply ship!”
The previous day, she had overheard Pito casually discussing their next destination while speaking about the Marquis’s daughter in the dining room.
She hadn’t caught everything.
But she suddenly remembered him saying they would be traveling by ship.
“A supply ship? They’re leaving by sea?”
Loras frowned thoughtfully.
“Let’s see… the nearest port from here is…”
While Loras was deep in thought, Tristan strode toward the second door leading outside.
“They’re heading for Azulen Port.”
Without looking back, he spoke calmly.
“Loras, deal with these two and catch up.”
Eliana gazed at the soft, cotton-like clouds drifting lazily across the sky.
The late spring sunshine was wonderfully warm.
The scent of fresh grass mingled with the fragrance of unfamiliar wildflowers carried on the breeze, gently tickling her nose.
She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring it all.
When she slowly opened them again, she lowered her gaze.
Far below…
A dark, endless cliff stretched beneath her feet.
If she went down there…
Would this pain disappear?
Would all this suffering finally end?
Just a few more steps…
It felt as though she could escape this living hell forever.
As if entranced, Eliana walked toward the edge.
And stepped into empty air.
“Gah!”
She jerked awake with a gasp.
Her head slammed violently into the lid of the rum barrel.
A dull ache exploded through her skull, followed by pain so intense it felt as though every bone in her body had shattered.
A groan escaped her lips.
Yet even that vivid agony could not completely erase the lingering images of the dream.
As she tried to remember when that memory had come from, the barrel suddenly lurched violently.
Her body stiffened.
“Hey! Lower it carefully! You! Get over here and help!”
Bron shouted irritably as he and the others unloaded the barrel containing Eliana from a wagon.
She squirmed, trying to peer through a narrow crack.
The cloth Bron had tied over her eyes had apparently slipped off while she had been tossed around inside the barrel.
“So this is really the last shipment? That’s a shame. It’s been quite profitable. You’re never coming back here again?”
An older man asked regretfully as he retied the wagon’s canvas cover.
“Thanks for everything. Just in case, it’d be best if you stayed around Azulen for a while instead of going anywhere near Alderon. This merchandise is worth quite a fortune.”
“Is that so? Fair enough. If you’re saying that much, I’d better be careful. Well then, safe travels. Looks like the ship’s already arrived.”
Listening intently, Eliana realized she could faintly hear a ship’s horn echoing in the distance.
They really were heading to the port… to board a supply ship…
At least that part had been true.
A bitter smile touched her lips as she curled into herself.
Closing her eyes only brought back the dream.
If only she had truly thrown herself off that cliff back then…
Wouldn’t that have been better?
She had lived her entire life believing she was useless.
She had dared to defy her father’s wishes and run away…
Only to end up being sold as a slave.
Perhaps Cecilia had been right all along.
Perhaps there truly was no reason for someone like her to exist.
Lost in those self-loathing thoughts, Eliana suddenly realized everything outside had gone quiet.
The ship’s horn sounded even closer than before.
Yet strangely…
There wasn’t a single human voice.
Holding her breath, she pressed her face against the narrow gap in the barrel.
Dawn had not yet broken, and the world outside was still dim.
Then she saw something pale crawling across the ground.
She narrowed her eyes, trying to make it out.
Suddenly—
Bang!
Something slammed hard into the barrel.
“Ngh… ugh…”
The pale shape was a man.
Collapsed on the ground, he let out weak, dying groans as he desperately clawed at the barrel containing Eliana.
It looked as though he was trying to pull himself upright.
But his strength kept giving out.
His fingers scraped helplessly against the rough wooden surface.
The harsh, grating sound sent chills racing down her spine.
A moment later…
One blood-soaked finger suddenly pushed through the gap in the barrel.
At the same instant, Eliana let out a muffled scream and instinctively twisted her body with all her strength.
The barrel lost its balance and toppled over.
The impact left her dazed.
Then she suddenly felt cool air brushing against her skin.
Startled, she lifted her head.
The lid of the rum barrel rolled across the dark stone ground.
I’m… outside…!
