Warhammer Divine Throne

This dark elf stands less than one meter seventy tall, and her black hair, as smooth as silk, drapes straight down to her waist. She has amber eyes, a finely pointed nose, a small mouth, and a figure that rivals even Teresa and Veronica.

Gold rings pierce her sharp ears, and a simple black short dress accentuates the dark elf’s long and beautiful legs.

More importantly, this dark elf’s face embodies multiple qualities: a cold aloofness, indifference, and disdain — the typical characteristics of an elf. Yet, the scars on her face and her unhealthy complexion, along with the weariness in her eyes, indicate that she is a victim of hardship. The trace of wildness in her gaze shows she hasn’t abandoned hope of escape.

This is an injured beauty, one that remains resilient despite the harshness and ravages she has suffered.

The dark elf is heavily shackled and forcibly brought forward under the watch of several guards: ”Mr. Hadrian! Mr. Laine!”

Hadrian nods, and a wealthy merchant produces a Magic Scroll: ”Mr. Laine, this is the Slave Contract of this female dark elf, personally crafted by Master Eliot.”

Laine reaches out to take it; as a master, one must possess means to prevent a slave from escaping, and a Slave Contract is a particularly cruel one. This Magic Curse Seal tears a portion of the enslaved subject’s soul to reside within the master’s mark, rendering escape impossible for the enslaved.

Other than that, the adorable girl named Miranda is also brought forward, but she doesn’t qualify to ”enjoy” such a high-grade Slave Contract. The girl, freezing to the point her lips turn purple and her complexion becomes blue, seems unable to stand steadily.

”Alright, leave the rest to me.” Laine squints.

”Mr. Laine, be cautious; this female dark elf is very wild. She was captured during the High Elf and Dark Elf war and traded by the High Elf Envoy for a High Elf captive held by a slave trader. It’s curious, as High Elves rarely engage in direct captive exchange; they typically take the person first and then pay the ransom later...” Hadrian expresses concern, but Laine merely waves his hand with ease: ”Leave it to me.”

”I’ve always trusted Mr. Laine, so I’ll take my leave then.” Seeing Laine’s confidence, Hadrian refrains from saying more. He courteously bids farewell while handing over a gold-name card: ”Mr. Laine, feel free to visit the Luigi Commerce Association anytime; you are always welcome.”

”Alright, I understand.”

Hadrian leaves with his entourage, leaving behind only the trembling Miranda in the hall and the proud dark elf bound with chains and shackles.

”So first is... Miss Miranda?” Laine beckons, gesturing for Miranda to come forward.

In the frigid winter, the girl wears only a white dress. Her pallor suggests malnutrition; she stumbles as she walks and instinctively licks her dry lips upon smelling freshly baked bread. She timidly responds, ”Yes... master!”

”Are you the daughter of the Angel Feather Knight?”

”Yes, my father went bankrupt and chose to sell me to pay off debts.” As she mentions this, the girl can no longer shed tears, merely speaking numbly.

”Hmm...” Laine strokes his chin.

In the Southern Realm, the concept of knights differs from that of the Empire and Brittania.

In the Southern Realm, anyone can buy a set of armor and weapons, acquire a horse, and pay a fee to any random knight corps to obtain the knight title. The combat prowess of such knights is exceedingly poor; most knights in the Southern Realm are essentially bandits and thugs.

Forming a knight corps is even simpler; Laine recalls that in Estalia Kingdom, the kingdom institution responsible for verifying knight corps operates 24 hours a day. By paying 100 gold coins, the bureaucrats accept any reason for forming, any group purpose, any insignia, and personnel composition — essentially, just fill out a form, and the applicant can announce the formation of a new knight corps in Estalia!

The Empire and Brittania do not acknowledge such knights; they consider it pure child’s play. Especially in Brittania, the Knight Kingdom’s legislation stipulates that if knights from the South dare to clang shields or shoot arrows within the Knight Kingdom, even peasants can legally kill them.

”Well, regardless of your willingness, you are now my maid.” Laine gestures for Amelia to come over: ”Please follow her, learn properly, and if you do well, I will assure you are well fed and clothed, and there will be rewards. If you fail... I hear there are plenty of porters and sailors at the docks still without wives...” Thᴇ link to the origɪn of this information rᴇsts ɪn novel_fіre.net

”No!” Miranda instinctively kneels down: ”Mr. Laine! I will serve you wholeheartedly! I swear... ugh!!!”

The girl knows well how fortunate she is; Laine is young and handsome, with high prestige and formidable power. Serving him, rather than being taken home by some old man, is the best outcome. She promptly makes a promise, but as she falls to the ground, her legs throb with unbearable pain, causing her to cry out.

Laine is not surprised either; a girl sold into slavery undoubtedly endured much hardship. From the perspective of product value, slave traders unlikely harm her, but certainly, her feet were restrained with shackles for an extended period. Furthermore, the slave traders certainly wouldn’t feed her sufficiently, for hunger prevents escape attempts. Keeping slaves cold and hungry is basic knowledge for slave traders.