The guards at the door waved at the group in silence, stopping it at a distance from the entrance. One of the escorting people went closer to the guards, identifying himself. After that, the group was brought forward under the vigilant eyes of the slavers. Silvy was the first of the group and the prettiest or at least the cleanest of everyone. There were four more women in the group, all young and decent looking: it wasn’t hard to understand their likely destiny. But Silvy was the one who attracted the most attention: her face was young and vibrant, with big green eyes, and she was the first of the group.

The group was pulled inside and underground, reaching a small room with three people inside. Silvy was brought forward first, now unchained from the prisoner behind her but still chained in front.

The slavers in front of her had experience with this procedure made clear by their fast and sure movements. Two of them blocked Silvy from the sides with the third one making the chain pass through a metal bar above Silvy’s head; her arms were then pulled up, rendering her helpless.

The slavers stripped her of everything, leaving her completely naked. Every object on her body, which was to say, two bed sheets and a few coins, were cataloged and brought to a side room. They even searched through her hairs: they were very thorough, but they didn’t get too touchy.

“I think she will sell very well. Look at her skin: it’s completely untouched. So smooth…”

Until a guy roughly fondled her breasts, moving below, caressing her hips, reaching…

“If you ruin this girl, I will personally cut your hands. Before the boss cuts off your head.”

The guy who was fondling Silvy retracted his hands quickly as if he had been burnt. Silvy felt violated: this was a horrible situation she had never been in. What if he had…

“No worry, she is completely unharmed. I will…”

Sweat beads were running down the face of the distressed guy: he was afraid, and a lot. But the man who had been writing on the paper and had stopped him spoke again.

“You will not do anything. I will personally lead her to a private accommodation. You, search the rest.”

Saying that he pointed to one of the guys on his side, who obediently sat down and took his place.

The man who had been writing, who was probably some sort of second in command, took the chain of Silvy, bringing her upstairs once again. Below her the other prisoners were being stripped and searched each time, losing every resemblance of dignity left in them.

Silvy and the man reached the ground floor and went up again, to the second. Along the corridor, four people were standing guard between doors without blocking them. The guards turned and ogled Silvy with no remorse, who in turn tried to cover herself as best as she could: not much as the chains continuously pulled her arms up. The man pulling her unlocked a door with a big padlock on it; the door would be impossible to pick from the inside with normal means, and it looked sturdy: it would probably be hard to smash as well.

Silvy was then inside a small room. A small bed and a bucket on the side: that was the end of the furniture, but not the end of the room. Sticking out of the right wall were two sturdy looking and thick metal rings.

“You will stay in this room, in silence. Our boss will visit you: you will respect him or be punished. People will come to bring you food in the coming days: you will respect them or be punished. You will obey or be punished. We will break you like we broke hundreds before you: it’s just a matter of time.”

Saying that he made the chain pass through the rings, locking it with a big padlock: the metal of the lock was thicker than Silvy’s finger: no way she could break it.

The man got out of the room, which had no window and was completely dark. A person in this condition would be surely afraid, blind: but not Silvy. The fear had been suppressed by the core, and she could see just fine even in complete darkness.

The chain was short but the room was small: she could reach pretty much everything and even lay on the bed comfortably; well, as comfortably as you could get with a chain attached to your wrists; the bucket was most likely for her… biological needs. That she didn’t have anymore.

Well, the plan had gone broadly as she had expected: she had been taken prisoner and brought inside. Silvy had missed a tiny detail, though: her value. In a place where people were victims of abuses of every type, with hunger eating away their bodies, a pretty girl with no signs of those abuses was very valuable: hence the special treatment. Which was bad for her plan: the common cells were probably less guarded than these special ones with four guards standing right outside. At least they didn’t know she was a mage: it would be the worst if it came out because they would put her in anti-spell chains. Anyway, it was time to remove these cuffs: she was already fed up with them.

She studied them and saw nothing particular about them apart from their thickness: they were simple cuffs with a keyhole: easy enough to break open.

Except it frikking wasn’t easy: after fifteen minutes of trying to open them with a mana lockpick they still didn’t budge. The lock was complicated, probably made to avoid thieves escaping. It was understandable: if your targets were in the slums, you’d better be prepared against thieves and lockpicking. And this lock was too hard for Silvy: she had had experience with simple locks, but she was no expert: just a novice.

She was still fighting with the lock when she heard the padlock outside the door unlocking, warning her of visitors. She dissipated her lockpick and turned towards the door, preparing a fearful expression; her eyes half-closed when the door opened, simulating the pain in seeing the light again.

A well-dressed man followed by the guy who had pulled Silvy upstairs was at the door. The well-dressed man had a lamp with him, illuminating the small room. The other man had clothes in his hands but stayed outside, closing the door.

“So, another noble ends up in my hands. No need to be surprised: young people are idiots no matter their social standing. Usually, men end up here, for a bet or idiocy, but you are not the first woman we caught. You have two choices now: you tell me the name of your family right now, we contact them, get paid and you happily reunite with them in one piece. Or, you don’t tell me your name and we enjoy the coming days, prying that name from your lips; we contact them, get paid and you go back to them, not necessarily in one piece. What’s your answer?”

Silvy covered her body as best as she could, watching the man defiantly. He was looking at her with disinterest, no hint of lewdness in his eyes. He was acting like a businessman with his merchandise, trying to understand Silvy’s price as if she was an object, not a human. The man creeped Silvy out: he was not guided by his primordial instincts but from money and gain.

What was her best course of action? Silvy wanted to be left alone in the room, or even better going back downstairs with the other prisoners. Going back down was very unlikely: this man was convinced, rightly so but for the wrong reasons, that she was valuable, and so they would keep her here. So, being left alone in the room was her only choice: after that, she could think about how to escape and eliminate them. Her plan hadn’t changed, rather, she was even more convinced she had to eliminate all of them. She had no more time to deliberate, so she improvised the best smug noblish attitude she could muster.

“You seem used to this. You think my father will let you walk away alive? He will destroy your pitiful gang!”

Silvy spat towards him as well, just to make the scene more realistic. The problem was, she had no real experience in aiming spit, especially high toward the face of someone. So she failed miserably: the spit barely got out of her mouth before falling to the ground. Silvy looked at the saliva on the floor: that was not what was supposed to happen! How could spitting be so hard?! People did it all the time!!

The well-dressed man had expected something of the sort because he had dodged the spit by moving to the side. This move was completely unnecessary, much to the amusement of the man. He cleared his throat, clearly not expecting this development, while Silvy felt quite embarrassed herself.

“...Anyway. Yes, I and my...associates are more used to this situation than you believe, young lady. Please don’t embarrass yourself further with such unnecessary… actions. Your collaboration is in the interest of both of us: you get to walk away unharmed, and my friends and I get richer. Tell us the name of your family: we will give you clothes, food, and we will remove those chains. As soon as we receive the payment, you will be out of here, again surrounded by maids and butlers ready to satisfy your every desire. But if you refuse, we will have no other choice than to find out ourselves… and it won’t be pleasurable. Worse comes to worst, we may even have to sell you; you understand?”

Silvy felt her mind confused, muddled. She had never felt so… compelled to obey his sweet words. That was the right thing to do, obviously: tell who you are and everything will be alright. She found comfort in those words, even if she knew she was no noble: everything will be alright anyway. She just had to trust him.

A shock ran through her mind: it surprised her, awakening her from the trance and stopping her from speaking the truth. The shock had lasted for just a moment, but it had stopped whatever was happening. How could she believe it was a good idea to speak the truth to this guy? Magic?!

The man had a scowl and was watching an item in his hand: it was a rectangular piece of wood with a square hole in the center. The man had been speaking through it! And she hadn’t even noticed! How was this possible?!

“You broke through the charm?”

A sickening smile blossomed on his lips.

“I will enjoy breaking you, fair lady.”

He stood up and left without another word, leaving Silvy alone in the dark room. She felt a longing sensation for an instant: she wanted that man back into the room with her, maybe hug him… but another, smaller, shock run through her mind, removing the sensation. This guy was dangerous! Had the core saved her? What had even happened?!

‘Did you save me, core? Did you remove the charm from me?’

Undead immune illusion. No need save.

That was comforting: what would have happened if she hadn’t been immune? She shivered at the thought.

She was again alone in the room: time to remove these damn cuffs. But she couldn’t open them! The lock was too hard.

Wait a second. She was so stupid! She could just make her hands smaller, couldn’t she?!

Silvy closed her eyes, concentrating on her hands. Make them smaller! She felt them scaling down to normal size, then becoming so small she made them pass through the handcuffs, freeing herself with no issue and bringing them back to normal size. It was harder to become smaller than bigger; why was that? Wait: what was the limit anyway? Could she become so small she could pass through the slit below the door? No way, right? And even if she did, people would still see her. Maybe. But the mana consumed would be too much, even for her pool, or so she felt.

Alright, what about making a hole in the walls or the floor? What was on the sides and below her room? A mana blade should be able to excavate a hole big enough to see through but small enough to overlook.

She cast it, creating the now familiar sword. She planted it into the ground gently, pushing it inside, trying to make as little noise as possible, removing it every dozen seconds, checking to see if the hole had been created.

It took her about five minutes to cut a hole in the wood using the blade, but no one had noticed: for now at least. A dim light shone from below: she lied on the ground, looking through the small slit. She couldn’t see much: the hole was tiny. Only the floor below was visible, with nothing else in sight: she needed a bigger hole.

She set to work again, this time expanding the hole even more gently, creating the smallest of noises, catching the splinters with mana. She could finally look around a bit, and she saw a bed: it looked like someone was inside, sleeping.; she could hear light snoring now that she paid attention: and more than one. The room was not a bad target per se, but she wanted to see what was on her sides as well.

She created two holes in the walls in half an hour, giving her vision of two rooms very similar to the one she was in: the right one was even occupied by a sleeping woman.

Alright, time for a plan: it was a bad plan, but it was the best she had. The situation had become more complicated than she had anticipated, but, nevertheless, she had to act. She restarted her work on the hole in the floor, expanding it continuously, making it bigger and bigger. She could see more of the room below: many people were sleeping here. There were at least forty beds divided into two rows by twenty each. Many were occupied: slavers resting after a hard day at work, kidnapping innocent people.

She needed to pass through the floor into the room below in the most silent possible way: so no hacking away at the floor. She had to disassemble it: not a big deal. Wood tiles were nailed to wooden beams running through the ceiling of the ground floor. She had to remove a few tiles and cutting a piece of a beam so that her not grown body could pass through the space.

Time to get to work. Removing the nails was not hard: she had a mana blade and mana itself to leverage the nail out; tiles came out one after the other in silence and she stacked them on the side. The beam was the harder part: it was thick, and putting too much strength in the cutting would make too much noise: she decided to be more silent than quick. Fortunately, her blade had a sharp and infallible edge: doing such work with a real sword would have been close to impossible.

Indeed, such an escape would have been impossible even for a [Mage]: they wouldn’t have their wand to focus their mana and cast spells. And a warrior, even with a sword, would encounter the problem of an increasingly duller edge in his weapon, which was not created in the first place to cut wood. Maybe an axe user would have had more luck, but how much noise would an axe make when splitting wood? Not to mention removing the cuffs in the first place: no, an escape such as the one made by Silvy was unthinkable for a normal human.

Silvy climbed down the hole, dangling from a beam before silently dropping down below. The dim light was coming from a slightly opened window on the far side of the room, lightly illuminating her surroundings. Not that it was needed: she could see perfectly fine even without a speck of light.

It was time to weed out some slavers: Silvy cast again her mana blade, stabbing the closest person through the eye, sinking the blade in his brain, encountering no resistance. The sleeping man didn’t even have the opportunity to wake up, dying directly in his sleep: a death too easy for Silvy’s taste, but she had to be sneaky.

She eliminated every member in the room the same way, not letting them scream before their death: the only sound coming was a slight sucking one from the mana blade coming out of their head. Which was absent after the second kill: Silvy had noticed it and had started to dissipate the sword after the kill, creating one anew for each victim. It was satisfying and enjoyable: every one of them was the worst scum, taking pleasure in other people’s pain and suffering. She was doing a favor to the world: she should be thanked for the service.

After the last slaver in the room was dealt with, she went up to the only door of the room. It was closed shut, but not locked. Silvy didn’t open it, instead putting her ear on it, listening. She stayed like that for a full minute, hearing nothing from the other side. She slowly and carefully lowered the handle, creating a small slit for her to see on the other side. No light, no movements, no noises: it was empty as far as Silvy could see.

She opened it more, slowly, ready to stop at the first sign of danger. But it was completely empty.

It was a room filled with tables, tankards above them and chairs around; a recreation or dining room of some kind? A set of dice was on a table, abandoned together with a dagger. It was of no importance to Silvy, so she moved to the other door of the room, checking the windows and making sure they were closed before moving forward. Again, ear against the door, Silvy listened for movements. She could hear faint noises, but too faint to be from the very next room. She waited for a full minute, making sure as much as possible that the other side was empty. Same tactic: she opened a slit, watched through it, and then opened the door completely. This was the entrance room: she had come through here when she had been imprisoned and then when they brought her upstairs. The stairs going to the second floor were to her left, the door leading outside was on her right while the room leading downstairs was in front. Noises were coming from upstairs: probably a conversation between bored guards. It didn’t matter: she wanted to clear this floor before moving on.

Her next objective was, therefore, the door in front: she heard noises coming from inside, people speaking and something bouncing on wood, probably on a table. From the voices it sounded like there were three people inside, probably playing with dice. Could she take them out before raising the alarm? Unlikely. She would kill them fast, yes, but not before at least one of them screamed. Unless she threw three mana blades at once…

She cast the first mana blade easily, as she had done before many times. Then she divided her attention between maintaining the sword and creating a new one: it was taxing, but possible. She took a good five minutes to draw the rune, and she knew she couldn’t cast a third one: it was beyond her for now. Well, she had seen a dagger in the room before: aiming and throwing a weapon with her mind was much easier, but she could probably hit a stationary target with a normal throw as well. Probably. She hoped so.

She went back to the dining/recreational room and took the dagger that had been abandoned on the table, preparing for the throw: she would push open the door with her left hand and throw the dagger with her right hand to… to whom? Where were they positioned? She had a single shot at this: she couldn’t fail.

Keeping the mana blades in the air and the dagger in hand, she knelt in front of the door, pulling down the handle slowly, slowly, until it reached the lowest position: slowly, gently, she opened the door as little as she could, still hearing people chatting and throwing dice.

“Matched triplet! Tonight I’m on fire: I will empty your purses if I keep it up! Ah!”

“Why am I even playing against you? You are stupidly lucky. Did you see that girl they brought upstairs? Think the boss will make us have a turn? Her tits were sooo nice…”

“Are you completely stupid? That’s a noble’s daughter! I understand you are new, but if you can’t keep your hands in your pants, you will lose them! The guards don’t care if we take penniless bums out of the street, but touch a noble and they will raze the slums to the ground! Starting from us! No, we will ransom her, untouched, and we will be much richer than before. Touch her and we are all dead, starting from you!”

Silvy could see the men at the table: one of them was the asshole who had palpated her before. He wanted to get a turn with her? Let’s see if he liked this…

She opened the door wide, throwing the dagger and the blades towards her sitting targets. A single “Mh?” escaped from one of them before the weapons pierced through their heads, with the swords going all the way through and the dagger stopping at the hilt. She had aimed the dagger at the person giving her his back, as he was the closest and easiest to hit. Her choice had paid off: their bodies fell to the ground wordlessly, making a thud when hitting the floor. You couldn’t say it had been loud: the guards upstairs most likely hadn’t heard it, divided by an entire floor, but the stairs to go underground were right next to the table: if there was someone down there, he had most likely heard.

Silvy rushed forward, dissipating the mana blades and creating a new one in the meantime.

“Sabam? Paul? Everything alright?”

A voice drifted from below: someone was down there and had heard the noise. There was no real way to get downstairs without being seen, so she did the only thing she could do: she rushed forward, mana blade floating behind her, dagger in hand again, ready to be thrown. A young man was looking up, stopped with a leg half raised to take the first step of the stairs: he didn’t make it. He opened the mouth wide, maybe surprised, maybe to scream: Silvy’s mana blade flew through the air, slipping inside his mouth, cutting any sound. Gurgling was coming from the man now on the ground, struggling to remove the blade from his face. A quick scan of the room revealed him as the single guard: no one else was around. Silvy went forward and cut his throat, ending his struggle. That didn’t go so bad, right?

In front of her, a jail door stood, made of metal bars. A keyhole was on it, but no key was on sight: they were probably kept upstairs. Well, freeing the prisoners would have to wait: she still had a base to depopulate.

Silvy went back upstairs to the entrance room. She could take two courses of action right now, and both of them would probably set off an alarm. She could go upstairs and eliminate the guards, who were four, attentive and probably better warriors than the others: there was probably the boss as well, together with the man who had been writing downstairs, and maybe even others she hadn’t seen. Or she could go outside and eliminate the guards there: they had a perimeter and covered each other, but they didn’t expect an attack from inside the building. But they would notice the attack for sure, or a missing guard if not that, with consequent alarm raised.

Well, the first thing she should do was dressing anyway: she didn’t feel uncomfortable naked, mostly because the core kept the embarrassment suppressed, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know that it was not a good idea to go around naked. The sleeping room was probably the best bet: it probably had the belongings of the now dead slavers, and with that, clothes maybe of her size. But she needed to be fast: she didn’t know when people would move around and find the bodies.

Silvy ran back there; there was a chest at the feet of each bed, and most of them were locked apart from a few; she rummaged through the unlocked ones, finding some simple clothes of various sizes.

But none of them were for children, understandably: she had to grow back to the size of an adult. So she did just that, and after a few minutes of concentration, she was back to her grown form, adjusted to be comfortable inside a set of dull brown clothes. No underwear, though; she was not going to put on those: who knew what the guy who had worn them had done in them? Silvy wanted no part of it; even imagining it was disgusting.

She went back to the entrance, having decided her next course of action: upstairs. Attacking outside was a guaranteed alarm; upstairs she could, maybe, unlikely, avoid it. But there was no reason to make life easier for her enemies. She took two chairs from the dining/recreational room, placing them against the double doors leading outside, blocking them. It wouldn’t slow down reinforcements much, but every bit could help. She even went through the whole building and barred every window; they were already closed, so it was not hard to lock them completely without raising suspicions. The guards outside would have difficulties getting in: that would play to her advantage.

But how could she eliminate the guards upstairs without making a fuss? Mh… What if… she became a shadow, like the woman who had killed her friends? Could she shapeshift into a shadow?

Silvy closed her eyes, concentrating. About what? How did you become a shadow? Should she just wish to become darker? Harder to see? She wished about that: being harder to see.

Nothing happened.

The mana didn’t move, there was no reaction in her body: nothing was happening. It didn’t seem to work: there was a limit even to what she could do? Or was she unable to wish the right thing? Mhh…

She heard steps coming from upstairs, getting closer: someone was coming. Silvy rushed to the side, hiding behind the door ajar, watching through the slit the person coming down, illuminating the surroundings with his lamp. He was the man who had pulled her upstairs; he was looking around, mildly alert. He felt something was wrong, but he didn’t know what precisely. Silvy prepared her mana blade, ready to be thrown if he went the opposite way; if he came in her direction, she would move to the side, ready to ambush him. He stopped at the foot of the stairs, scanning the surroundings again. And then he noticed them, now illuminated: the chairs blocking the door. Silvy opened the door wide, throwing the blade at him.

The noise had attracted his attention, warning him. He saw the blade flying towards him and ducked, managing to dodge it. Silvy stopped it mid-air and turned it around, attacking again from behind.

“ENE-”

He tried to dodge the sword without even looking back but wasn’t fast enough: the sword pierced his chest, penetrating his right lung. He was out of the fight, but he had screamed before dying; the cover was blown.

Silvy heard steps coming from upstairs, many; the four guards, probably followed by the boss and maybe others. The door leading outside was pushed, but the chairs blocked it; curses came from outside, followed by an even stronger force slamming against the door. Could Silvy beat them all alone? She didn’t know.

She rushed to the fallen guy, taking the sword from his dying hands. He was breathing with difficulty; Silvy showed no mercy, thrusting the sword in his heart, killing him.

She turned to the stairs, sword in hand and mana blade floating behind her, in time to see four people rushing downstairs, fully armored and armed; three with a sword, one with a spiked mace.

They rushed down, wanting to encircle her. Silvy didn’t give them the opportunity: the room she was in was big enough for them to surround her, but not the foot of the stairs. She rushed forward, engaging the two people in front, blocking the two in the back from joining the fight. She swung to the one on the right, throwing the mana blade to the one on the left, the farthest from the stairs. The right one hastily parried her fast blow, unable to attack back. The left one dodged forward, but Silvy wanted none of that: her mana blade changed course suddenly, impaling him into the floor: one out. Silvy had to jump back, threatened by a thrust coming from a guy behind the one she had engaged. The fourth guy with the mace was the smartest: he went back up a couple of steps, jumping over the railing and landing at the right of Silvy. In the meantime the boss had arrived at the top of the stairs; he looked down below and saw the fight going on. He screamed at the top of his lungs.

“GET UP IDIOTS! ENEMY ATTACK!”

No one woke up of course; everyone else was already dead, but he didn’t know that for now.

He had a gambeson on him, probably put on in a hurry after the initial scream; a sword with a core on the hilt was in his hand: a magical sword.

Silvy had no time to catch all these details. She took another step back, moving the mana blade towards the leftmost guy; he was the one who had attacked from the back, now off the stairs, advancing together with the others; the blade flew forward and was blocked. Silvy couldn’t control it finely in the middle of the fight: she had stepped forward, engaging the rightmost guy with the mace, trying to put him between herself and the central one. He didn’t take the bait, stepping backward: he had seen what she had done to the other: she was stronger than them on a one on one. And by now everyone had realized something was not right: no one was coming, and the only noise was the various windows and the door trying to be slammed open.

The guy who had blocked the mana blade saw it dissipate: Silvy had lost control of it when the other two had pressured her. He took the hint and kicked a chair away from the entrance door, letting the other guys inside. Silvy was in a bad position: she was now in a corner, with two people right in front of her, exchanging swings; she was stronger, but they were cautious; every time she tried to pressure one of them the other would step forward trying to attack from the side, to catch her off guard, while her original target would focus on defense, stepping back if necessary: they were obviously accustomed and trained to fight together. And now other slavers were pouring inside the building, with the boss getting in the front line against Silvy. She was heavily outnumbered, and while a single guard was weaker than her, they were not idiots either; they fought utilizing their numbers, covering for each other. And the boss had a magical sword as well: the situation was dire.