Chapter 131

Chapter 131

***

The magical moment sank into the deep world of consciousness and passed without him even realizing it.

But definitely, in that deep place like the abyss, it left something in his heart. No, was it calling what was beyond as if knocking on a door?

The world was full of mystery and wonder. And they seemed to awaken something sublime and great sleeping within the depths of humans.

Despite that, most humans distanced themselves from such beautiful things and merely chased stimulation and pleasure.

Like turning their backs on the fragrant scent of flowers, cool breeze, and clear sunlight to bury their noses in a pile of dung in the grass.

True magic wasn't twisting reality or creating fiction. It was reaching out toward something beyond human consciousness.

That one thing was clear.

"Cough! Cough! Keheuk! Keuk!"

The collapsed Rickart spat out some water and woke up. Turning his body over and vomiting water onto the floor, water mixed with saliva trickled from his mouth.

Feeling naturally out of breath, he panted heavily, but both of his hands were shackled. What is this?

"Again like this, it's a journey back to the real world."

From beside him, a distinctive deep voice was heard. Turning his head to look, it was the Mage of the Wastelands.

He wasn't biting a gag like before, but he was wearing shackles on his hands like Rickart.

The place where Rickart and he currently were, was inside an iron cage. The time was broad daylight, and the outside looked to be the streets of a city.

People were wandering around. Only then did the bustling noises reach his ears, and the people wandering freely outside the iron cage included Imperial people, but were mostly Salaman people.

Especially the exotic smell drifting in the air seemed to tell Rickart that this wasn't the land he was born in, but an unfamiliar land.

"Your belongings are over there."

The mage pointed somewhere with his finger. Next to the iron cage, Rickart's sword and reliquary were seen on a table. The Viking gold bracelet was worn by the slave merchant sitting in front of it.

Was it fortunate out of misfortune, or did it not matter in his current situation. Having no strength in his body at all, Rickart leaned his back against the wall to rest. He sagged like a wet towel.

The mage watched Rickart quietly before speaking.

"Don't be too discouraged. The outside world is merely one big prison anyway. So even if you are in a small prison, being inherently imprisoned makes no difference."

Rickart leaned against the wall, caught his breath, and chuckled.

"Do I look discouraged to you?"

"Mm? If not, then it's a relief. Anyway, aren't you uncomfortable with me?"

"What's there to be uncomfortable about. Even if you are a real mage, having arms, legs, eyes, nose, and mouth is exactly the same."

"Hahaha, a wise answer to a foolish question."

The mage laughed lightly as well.

"I am Rickart. Just call me Ricky comfortably. And you?"

"It is Hashmid Abhazid, Ricky."

"Which is the family name and which is the given name?"

"The front is a kind of title and the back is the name. I don't have a family name. Don't know my father either."

The names of the Salaman people were commonly composed of a nickname, their father's name, their own given name, and their son's name. But compared to that, the mage's was excessively simple.

In a word, it was a name without roots. However, since Rickart was an outsider to begin with, he didn't care much about such things.

He even used the title to make a nickname as he pleased.

"Then can I just call you Hashim?"

"Mm? Can you? I don't have a nickname. No alias either. Because I don't have friends."

"Then I'm your first friend, Hashim."

"Mm...... Not bad. Sounds good."

"By the way Hashim, it seems you put on some weight."

When he first saw Hashim imprisoned in the iron cage in Renova, he was almost at the level of skin and bones. But right now, although his appearance had sunken cheeks, compared to back then he definitely looked much better.

"I do think I ate this and that a lot during the chaos, but I don't remember exactly."

"During the chaos? Ah...... Huh?"

When was there time to eat anything back then? Rickart found it strange but just figured that's how it was. Since he's a mage. Could he have caught and eaten a rat? Bah, no way.

As Rickart was talking with Hashim, someone approached the iron cage. Perhaps someone looking to buy a slave, they swept their gaze over Rickart and Hashim as if looking at livestock.

It was a man wearing luxurious clothes, a turban, and lightly waving a stick with soft fur attached to the end.

The slave merchant quickly approached the customer while eating something. Then pointing at Rickart, he said.

"That one over there looks obviously healthy just by a glance, doesn't he? Looking at his blond hair, well-defined features, tall height, and muscles, he's a typical Franken. His strength is very good. Whatever purpose you use him for, I promise you will be satisfied."

The term Franken referred to Imperial people. Since the term Imperial people itself was relative, it was what the barbarians near the Empire called them, but from the perspective of the Salaman people who possessed their own independent civilization, they themselves were the Imperial people.

In other words, Rickart, who was from the Empire, was an outsider at best, and a barbarian at worst.

Not having even imagined he'd be treated as a barbarian, Rickart felt weird. It wasn't a bad feeling, but closer to a fresh shock. Wow, this could happen too.

Actually to begin with, didn't it look like he was going to be sold as a slave now. This situation itself was incredibly unfamiliar.

"But looking at his eyes, it seems he hasn't been tamed yet."

"Uh...... Hahaha, wouldn't taming him also have its own taste?"

"I agree. I too used to know that taste in the past, but now it's bothersome."

The customer merely swept his gaze over once, lightly waved his furred stick, and simply left.

The slave merchant watched him leave for a moment before muttering.

"Nouveau riche bastard. Ptooey."

And pointlessly vented his anger on Rickart and Hashim. He strongly tapped the iron cage with a club. He didn't inflict direct harm to their bodies, but it was subtly unpleasant.

"Hey you bastards, do you think it's playtime? What are you chatting about so much? Huh?"

Rickart and Hashim said nothing and simply looked at him calmly. There was not a single trace of being scared.

"If a customer comes, at least act coquettish, or stand up and show off your strength. If you don't get sold early, it's only you who suffer. Understand?"

The slave merchant spouted a pseudo-sermon for quite a while, then went back to his seat and scooped up and ate something like porridge.

"Meeting a good master is also a blessing indeed."

Hashim said. At those words, a laugh burst out from Rickart.

"Not too long ago I sold my horse and told him to meet a good owner. Being in the exact same situation, I think I can understand the feelings of animals now. But Hashim, have you ever served a master?"

"I've taught a young noble girl before. Just because someone's a slave doesn't mean they all work in a mine until they die or get sold as sex slaves or things like that. I was treated quite well."

"Even among slaves there are different kinds. But, you said it. There's little difference between the outside world and this prison."

"So?"

"Whether you're treated well or not, you're a slave all the same. The sad part about being a slave is that your destiny is not your own, isn't it?"

"Those are correct words. By the way, are you a warrior or a scholar? Seeing that flaming sword, I'm certain you are a Jihadra."

"Jihadra?"

"Mm...... What do they call it in your words? Blade Master? Sword Master? But the more accurate expression is Holy Warrior."

It seemed among Salaman people as well, there were things like Sword Masters. But there was something that grated on Rickart's ears.

"Accurate expression? That surely sounds like saying we are wrong."

"Mm...... From what I know, I think this side came first? But such things have no real significance. In ancient times, both Frankens and Salamans were all one Empire. That's where it originated."

"You mean the Ancient Empire?"

"You people truly call everything dryly and plain."

"Do you people have a separate name for it?"

"No, we also just call it the Ancient Empire. An empire is an empire, it has no name after all."

What the heck. To Rickart, Hashim seemed incredibly wise yet somehow also a bit sloppy.

Anyway, despite the slave merchant giving them a warning, the two people chatted away paying no mind. They seemed completely unaware of what their current situation was.

However, right next to the iron cage Rickart was currently locked in, there was another row of iron cages, and one of the people in the next cage struck up a conversation.

"Hey there folks, aren't you guys worried?"

Rickart had been chatting with Hashim for a while and turned to look at him. He was a sturdy man; his hair wasn't blond but he seemed to be a Franken like himself.

"Worried about what?"

"You're good-looking, so if you're lucky you might be sold as a sex slave. But if not, you could be whipped until you die. Aren't you afraid of that?"

Being sold as a sex slave is being lucky? It was hard to accept, but everyone had different ways of thinking.

"Sorry, but I am not a slave."

Then the person in the next cage burst into a loud laugh.

"Hahahaha! That's not for you to decide. You definitely haven't been tamed yet indeed."

"Being tamed is nothing to brag about, is it?"

"That is true, but still, it does lessen the pain. Giving up early and accepting it will be good for yourself."

"Though it's unlikely to happen, if there is a corner that seems like it might be the case, I'll give it a thought."

Seemingly seeing that Rickart wouldn't accept reality until the end, he spilled a sneer and said.

"You're an interesting fellow. But eventually, in front of the whip your mind will change. Just look."

As if boasting, the person in the next cage turned around and pulled up his upper garment. There were whip marks all over his back, and the scars where his flesh split wide open and healed were truly terrible.

However, Rickart and Hashim merely blankly stared at his back.

But just then another customer came looking for Rickart. This time it was a noblewoman.

She had silk draped over her head, covering her nose and mouth with soft silk. Only exposing her eyes on her brown skin, due to black eye makeup she looked extremely alluring.

The slave merchant, who had been gnawing on a large bare bone like a dog, approached the noblewoman bowing obsequiously.

"Speaking of this one over here......"

However, as he tried to explain the product, the noblewoman raised her hand and blocked it. Merely pointing at Rickart, she flicked her finger.

Rickart ignored her. He just kept leaning against the wall, quietly looking at the noblewoman. Then the slave merchant tapped the iron cage strongly with his club.

"What are you doing? Stand up and come closer."

Rickart let out a small sigh, and with his two hands heavy from the shackles hanging down, he stood up and approached the noblewoman.

Standing in front with the iron bars between them, there was a difference of a head's height. His shoulder width seemed more than twice as wide.

She asked Rickart directly.

"Do you want anything?"

"No. At least not from you."

"Better not put on a bluff. Because that drops your charm."

"I don't need to look charming to you either. May I go sit down again now?"

"Depending on what you do, I could give you freedom."

"I am already free."

At Rickart's answer, the noblewoman shook her head and chuckled as if she was dumbfounded.

"I thought you were a wild horse like fellow, but you were merely an idiot."

However, at her words, Rickart conversely snorted. Mobilizing Mana Drive, he poured strength into his arms and snapped the shackles with pure strength.

Clang!

As the shackles broke with a cheerful sound, instantly the noblewoman, the slave merchant, and even the people in the next cage flinched in surprise. Only Hashim merely watched blankly.

Rickart grabbed the iron bars and bent them sideways like taffy. Then stepping out of the iron cage, he stood in front of the noblewoman. Between her and Rickart, there was nothing anymore.

Feeling as though a lion she thought was locked inside a cage had leaped out and faced her, the noblewoman trembled like an aspen leaf.

Fortunately, that lion wasn't starved for blood right now.

"Do I still look like an idiot?"

"......"

Whether out of fear or what, the noblewoman's eyes looking up at Rickart shook wildly. Rickart nonchalantly walked to the table barefoot.

There, using the slave merchant's keys, he unlocked the cumbersome shackles and took his sword. Then after shoving the reliquary into his backpack, he approached the slave merchant and reached out his hand.

"Hand it over. The bracelet."

The slave merchant, his hands trembling violently, forced the gold bracelet off. Like snatching it away, Rickart took the bracelet and put it on his own wrist.

And then said to Hashim as if it was nothing.

"Let's go."

"I don't know if it's okay to do this. Feels exactly like stealing."

A slave was a kind of commodity, and therefore just walking out like this seemed unfamiliar to Hashim. Regardless, he too came out of the iron cage, and Rickart unlocked his shackles with the key.

Rickart tossed the key toward the person in the next cage who told him to realize reality earlier. It made a clinking sound.

"Whether you are a slave or not, decide for yourself."

Saying so, Rickart trudged away barefoot.

He looked down at the key blankly, then raised his head and looked at the slave merchant. The slave merchant wasn't making threats or frowning; he was merely wearing an absurd expression.

Turning his head, he looked at Rickart walking away. Before long Rickart was buried in the crowd and couldn't be seen.

He looked down at the key again. All sorts of thoughts crossed his mind. If I leave? What will I do for a living if I leave? He felt nothing but a bleak future.

So he picked up the key, and without unlocking his shackles, he smoothly handed it out of the iron cage.

Ultimately, what made him a slave wasn't the iron cage, nor the shackles, but his own consciousness.