CHAPTER 130: BROKE AGAIN

Chapter 128: Broke Again

Ethan studied the girl in silence for a few moments longer. Or rather, pretended to—he and Lirael had already decided. But appearances mattered. At last, he leaned forward slightly, his tone level.

"I’m interested," he said. "I would like to buy her. But tell me—what clauses could be written into her contract? Since the Church was the one to sell her, surely they enforced certain restrictions? Some form of protection for her?"

The moment the word Church left his lips, the girl flinched, shoulders tightening as though struck.

The merchant’s eyes flicked to her, sharp as a knife. She froze, gaze dropping instantly, lips pressed together.

He smoothed his voice, turning back to Ethan with his merchant’s smile. "Nothing to worry about, esteemed sir. Quite the opposite, in fact. The Church gave us full rein over all clauses. Their desire was simple: punishment. They considered her a waste of their resources and reputation. Thus, she can be bound under absolute restriction, at your complete command."

The girl’s expression fell, lips trembling faintly before she forced them still again. Her composure wavered only until the merchant’s eyes cut toward her once more—then her face settled into a practiced mask.

Ethan tapped a finger against the armrest thoughtfully. "I see. And the price?"

The trader brightened immediately, joy sparking in his eyes as if he’d been waiting for that question all along. "Ah! Sir, you have keen judgment. You see, we acquired her from the temple for thirty gold—a steep cost, given what we later discovered. To be frank, I felt scammed. For all her so-called divine heritage, she was no better than a common—" he hesitated, glanced toward Lirael, then continued more carefully, "—no better than a... trained servant. After investing in her... education, I believe thirty-five gold would be a fair balance."

Ethan’s reply came without pause, flat and decisive.

"We’ll buy her."

The merchant blinked. "Of course, of course, if sir feels the price too high we could perhaps—wait. Truly?"

"Yes." Ethan’s gaze didn’t waver. "Do the rest."

The merchant’s grin split wide, relief and greed flooding his features. He clapped his hands together, his tone suddenly jubilant. "With pleasure, esteemed sir. With absolute pleasure!"

By contrast, the girl’s eyes shimmered faintly, unshed tears gathering as her lips pressed tighter. She knew what came next.

The trader wasted no time. He drew out parchment, ink, and the binding seal. The words of absolute slavery were written swiftly, the clauses etched with merciless precision. Ethan signed with calm finality, the girl’s trembling hand scrawled her name where instructed, and at last the document flared with golden light before sealing itself.

Ethan set a small pouch of coins upon the table. The trader scooped it up like a starving man clutching bread, weighing it once before tucking it away with a grin.

"Sir, you truly have a remarkable eye," he said smoothly. His smile grew sly, as if a new thought had just occurred. "In fact... we have another slave under absolute control that I daresay would pique your interest. And I am sure she happens to be of your taste"

He then glanced at Lirael and Sylvie both.

The merchant leaned forward, lowering his voice as though about to share a treasure-laden secret. His eyes gleamed slyly.

"She will be more than helpful in combat, sir. Not merely support—she may even carry your party outright. For she is not just anyone." He paused for dramatic effect, lips curling. "She is a Dragonkin. More precisely... a Draconian. And yes, before you ask—she, too, remains pure."

Ethan’s eyes narrowed, though his tone remained even.

A Draconian, huh?

Aloud, he asked, "And how did such a one become a slave?"

The merchant gave a solemn nod, his voice adopting the cadence of a storyteller. "Her capture came in the recent war between the Dragon Kingdom of Zelvaran and the Dragon Empire of Valtross. She was taken alive by enemy soldiers, stripped of her nobility, and traded as plunder. By sheer fortune, we intercepted the chain and acquired her. She even claims noble blood—but when we investigated, the truth was harsh. Her entire family perished in the war, their territory razed to ash, being at the borderlands. So you need not worry, sir—there will be no noble house to come seeking retribution."

Ethan’s interest sharpened. He leaned slightly forward. "This indeed intrigues me. Proceed. What’s her price?"

The trader’s smile widened, but he tempered it with a cough, preparing the blow. "Well... given her rarity, her condition as a perfect slave under absolute binding, and the absence of political risk... coupled with the sheer value of a Draconian..." His eyes glittered. "Four hundred gold. And if I may add—she is also Awakened."

He held the number in the air like a suspended blade, waiting for the inevitable refusal. Few would accept such a figure, even fewer for a prideful Dragonkin whose temperament could burn as hot as her blood.

But Ethan didn’t dismiss it. He only folded his arms, thoughtful. "I would like to see her."

The trader brightened, then grimaced apologetically. "As much as I would love to present her to you now, she is currently at our branch in the next city—Veru. Had I known esteemed sir would be so receptive, I would have summoned her in advance. But... seeing as you are an adventurer, perhaps you’ll be traveling there? If so, I can guarantee she won’t be sold until your arrival."

Ethan considered. "After the beast tide, I’ll likely leave this city. You can keep her safe until then?"

"Rest assured," the merchant said smoothly, hand pressed to his chest. "Her cost is far beyond what most in these border cities could even dream of paying. Only someone of your caliber could afford her. She will be there, waiting. I will send word personally."

Silence stretched for a moment. Then—

No. Absolutely not.

Lirael’s voice cut sharply through the bond, laced with exasperation. Four hundred gold?! That’s madness, Ethan. We’ll be broke. Again.

Ethan smirked faintly to himself, hiding it behind a neutral expression. But think about it—a Draconian in our team. Wouldn’t that be... cool?

Cool? My ass! Lirael shot back immediately, frustration radiating from her thoughts. We’ll be destitute. Again. You cannot be serious.

Ethan’s mental voice turned sly. Well... I don’t deny your ass is cool.

A pause. Then the bond crackled with her indignation. Argh! You’re insufferable!

He kept his expression calm, though the faintest flicker of amusement tugged at his lips.