Kalkútu and Netti flew in the hazy sky as they discussed about the boy they'd been torturing for the past five months.

Netti sighed. "It has been five months already. Anything torture has been tried a hundred times but the damn book didn't respond. What master Uznu suggested is our best shot now. I'm just worried because you don't approve of it."

Kalkutu cleared his throat and glanced at Armad who was tied on his back. "You are right we have tried every blade, but I don't think selling him as a slave can compare to what we did in the last five months."

Netti shook his head. "Yeah, but we just have to trust master. Let's sell the boy to the slavers and observe from the side. The Sword is an arrogant soul, she may not stand slavery. Perhaps that will force her to make a move. We have to be ready to grab it when it does."

"Huh.. This is going to take a while."

The two Djinns discussed how to sell Armad as a slave and how to watch him afterward.

***

The slave auction was scheduled three months after every Jinzidal, which often fell on the nineteenth of the second month. But, because of the rebellion, this year's Jinzidal was postponed and so did the slave auction. The auction was rescheduled for today - the first of Satumba (the ninth month).

The five Jinzidal kings were responsible for organizing the auction. One country would be selected to host the event. They often voted but this year they used the Leefy Green to determine the host. And it fell on Burja - prince Niyashi's home country and the capital of the Jinzidal king Ta Kurichi.

The auction hall was several hundred meters wide. It had three sections in ascending order: the first and lowest section was reserved for commoners, the second section was for smaller countries and the last section was reserved for the Jinzidal Kings and their envoys. The podium sat in front of the three sections. A small cubicle built with a transparent glass stood at its centre.

The house was full and every registered country had already arrived. The presenter was a bearded middle age man with a specially enhanced voice. A resounding tenor.

The first slave presented was a young woman dressed in a speckless pink. Her hair had been cleaned and dyed black in preparation for the auction.

"Item one is a beautiful young lady." The presenter danced around, pointing at the woman like she was a property. "178cm, 54kilo, fair and in her blossom. Think about how much she can do. Anita is basically a bag of good fortunes. You can use her in a variety of ways. The starting bid is 800,000 coins. Anyone?"

"850,000."

"900,000."

"1,000,000."

The presenter waited but no one was willing to bid higher.

"Item one is sold to number 345."

"The next item is a first tier mage. He can be trained for several purposes. Call him a working machine. The starting price is 950,000 ayrids."

"1,000,000."

"Anyone bidding higher? Anyone? I'll ask again, is anyone bidding higher?

"....Well, I guess Item two is sold to number 932."

"The next item is a.... "

The presentation continued for an hour, getting increasingly interesting with every item.

"Next is our SPECIAL ITEM of the day." The presenter wanted to delay it even more but it was already late. "Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you our super special item. If you've been alive this year then you must know this item. Mind you, this item is dangerous. I'll cut the talking and let you be the judges."

Two servants dragged a chained young man onto the floor. They put him inside the transparent cubicle and locked the door.

"I present to you... Armad Djinn. A true gladiator who can defeat even crown princes and princesses. Shame he was involved with black magic and the Jinzidal Army punish him by taking his Djinn away. He might have been dangerous at one point, but now he's collared. Even he must obey. You can even train him, cleanse the dark magic out of him and use him in the next Jinzidal. The starting bid for this special item is... fifty million ayrids."

The audience were struck speechless. Nobody clould have imagined Armad to be the item. The world was aware of what happened during the Jinzidal but nobody knew the end results except now.

"Ah.. so that's what happened? He used forbidden magic during the competition. I bet that's why he reached the final."

"I bet so. How else could he have won? A commoner going against the nobles? He must be using the forbidden arts."

"Thumbs up, admiral."

"You did right, admiral."

"I still want him but fifty million is too much. That's my country's budget for a year."

As the audience discussed, the presenter danced around and pointed out reasons why the item was so expensive.

"200 million." A feminine voice said. The hall fell into an utter silence as the audience turned to the upper section toward the source.

The speaker was... princess Nostalgia Nára from Sisiya. "200 million."

Armad was great and all but two hundred million could build an entire army and feed them for months.

"300 million." Prince Bizaya from the Underground Empire broke the silence.

300 million was an outrageous amount that could run a whole country for years. Nostalgia glared at Bizaya.

"Anyone bidding higher?"

"I'll ask again, anyone bidding higher?"

He lifted the wooden hammer to hit the drum and sell Armad to prince Bizaya but...

"350 million." Prince Niyashi of the Burja thundered.

"500 million!" Prince Hán Amuru said. His imposing voice reverberated across the hall, battering everyone like a lash.

"550 million." Nostalgia countered.

"700 million!" Bizaya roared.

With all the tax and the flourishing businesses between the Underground Empire and the countries above the ground, House Déniz was rich but even they would be bankrupted by such an exorbitant amount.

"710 million!" Nostalgia roared, glaring at the other competitors.

However, even Amuru and Niyashi couldn't bid higher. They gritted their teeth and sat.

"Anyone bidding higher?"

"Anyone? I guess the special item will go to... "

"800 million." Bizaya said.

Everyone turned around with wide eyes. Nostalgia, Niyashi and Hán Amuru exchanged gloomy looks.

"Anyone bidding higher?"

"Anyone bidding higher?"

"I'll say it again. Anyone bidding higher?"

"Today's special item goes to prince Bizaya of the Underground."

Nostalgia glared at him. "You... "

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I will gift him to you after our engagement. Of course, after castrating him." Bizaya said, laughing.

Armad lifted his head slowly to see the auction hall. The first thing that greeted him was the glee in the eyes of the slavers. They enjoyed it. It was delightful.

You have been suppressed by a Nestone collar.

-100/sec life energy.

Armad closed his eyes. He might bite his tongue and die if he continued looking at the slavers. But another notification woke him up.

You have received a New Quest

Quest Description: King Wilberforce I has fought against the slavers and won, King Wilberforce II has fought against the slavers and won, subsequent Heirs of Wilberforce have fought against the slavers but lost. You are born with the Gift, embrace it and fight the slavers. Abolish slavery and destroy the Jinzidal.

Accept Quest? Y/N?

Time limit: none.

Reward: For accepting the quest, you will receive 10% of your Natural Limit.

For completing the quest you will gain: [obscure]

It didn't take any thinking. Now that Armad had experienced slavery firsthand, he was determined to take down the slavers. So this was just a pocket ticket. He pressed yes. Now, all I need is to get this collar off and...

"I did it! I've finally unlocked the ability to create these blue things. I knew I could do it but they didn't believe me. Thank goodness thank goodness thank goodness.... Huh? Fucking. Wilberforce. Shit! I HAVE SHOUTED OUT TOO LOUD."

It wasn't just the sudden voice that danced in his head, Armad also felt a searing pain all over his body, like someone was plucking every hair on his body. He didn't even have the energy to scream. Tears and sweat ran down his face. He looked like a frightened, little slave in front of his master.

"Who the hell are you?" Armad snapped, ignoring the pain and the weirdness of a voice without a speaker. Though he did look around him for the speaker as he waited for a response.

"I am Iqra. My name is Iqra. I. Q. R. A. Iqra."

Armad searched the cage, the podium and the entire auction hall until he was sure the speaker wasn't nearby. "I didn't ask about your name. Who are you? And where are you now?"

"Stop whispering, will you? I can hear you if you just think. You don't want those two Djinns to know I am here, do you?"

Answer the questions? Armad spoke in his head. It was worth testing even though he didn't expect any response.

"Good, master. Now, let's get down to business. I'm sure you've hundreds of questions but this is not the time or the place."