***

Waterside Village

"Why did you tie me up?" asked Avery.

The man was sitting on the wooden floor, still wearing a short-sleeved T-shirt and trousers, the simple clothing of the villagers.

Joyce stood before Hilda, the young man's right hand tightly gripping the kitchen knife.

Sigor was ahead of Avery, crouched down, and pointed the blade of a sword at Avery's neck. Their demeanor left Avery with nothing to do except surrender.

Both hands were tied behind his back, using a rope with strong ties. Neither man dared to hit Avery.

"Because you're a weird one. You've hurt my wife twice," Sigor replied.

Avery squinted, turning to look into Hilda's eyes, "Is it true?"

Hilda simply nodded, not saying anything out of her mouth. Avery gasped, confused by what was happening to her.

"When did the first one happen?" he asked.

"This morning. My wife was about to heal you with her magic, but her body was knocked off by something on you," Sigor replied, pointing roughly at Avery's face.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm a soldier. There's no way I'd cast a magic spell upon me," Avery retorted.

"A soldier?" asked Joyce, seemingly excited to hear Avery was a soldier.

Avery looked away again, no longer at Sigor but at Joyce, who had a curious expression. Avery could clearly see Joyce had dreams of becoming a soldier.

"I am Avery Romarich, Knight of the Sacred Sword of Lancaster," Avery replied.

Joyce widened his eyes, an expression Avery was expecting. Joyce's eyes briefly locked with Sigor's, then surprisingly laughed out loud.

"What the—"

"Stop with the bullshit! You're just a liar claiming to be that Sacred Knight," Joyce insisted.

"I'm sick of seeing those liars. We should sell you straight to the slave market!" Sigor snapped.

Joyce's father sheathed his sword, reaching his right hand to lead Avery away. Joyce helped his father to take Avery to the appointed place, the Waterside slave market.

They carried Avery like a prisoner, of course, with both hands firmly tied behind his back. Hilda couldn't help but agree with Sigor's suggestion, but she honestly wanted to feel Avery's body a little longer;

Hilda had not felt the muscle tone of a young man for a long time, unlike Joyce, of course. Every time Hilda's eyes saw the muscles on Avery's body, her body began to heat up.

Sigor and Joyce threw Avery's body onto the wagon, right next to the pile of corn harvested from the family field.

Sigor held the wagon's reins while Joyce sat next to him. They quickly drove away without saying goodbye to Hilda.

"So, why did you choose to sell me? Do you not believe that I am Avery Romarich?" asked Avery.

"The Sacred Knight you keep talking about wouldn't be found lying in someone's field naked," Joyce replied.

"In fact, you should be paying for the damage to that field," Sigor retorted.

"But since we're good folk, we'll let you off the hook as long as you're sold to the people at the slave market," Sigor continued.

Avery laughed softly, still lying on the wagon and not thinking of escaping. One of the reasons why he didn't run was because of the slave market. He could potentially meet a wealthy lord who might know his face.

The lord would buy him, serve him with honor, and then escort Avery safely back to Telmarath. A well-structured plan, using Sigor and Joyce's plan.

"Have any of you seen my sword?" asked Avery, changing the subject.

"Don't talk shit!" growled Joyce, ready to hit Avery hard on the head.

Avery easily evaded the blow, and his dodge surprised Joyce.

"How did you know that—"

"I never lie," Avery replied, glaring at Joyce.

Seeing Avery's unusual gaze -Avery's eyes sharpened and blackened. Joyce immediately turned forward, being kind and no longer bothering Avery.

"What's the matter with you? You act like you're seeing ghosts," Sigor remarked, noticing his son's strange behavior.

"It's nothing."

Avery fell silent, smiling again with his eyes closed, waiting for the carriage to arrive at the slave market as Sigor wanted.

The wagon ride, which had been quiet, became full of noise. Avery's eyes opened, sitting up straight to look around him.

The villagers did their normal activities, trading, conversing, and playing in a small park. A peaceful village in Avery's mind.

The horses stopped, as did the wagon wheels. Avery turned to the right, seeing a two-story building standing firmly with people walking in and out.

"I'll take care of him; you sell the corn," Sigor stated.

Sigor got off the charioteer's seat, stepped behind the wagon, and roughly pulled Avery's leg. Avery's body was pulled and fell on the wet ground, getting his clothes dirty.

"Get up!" Sigor ordered.

Avery did exactly as Sigor said. They walked on with Avery's clothes pulled by Sigor like the old man was leading him inside.

The two were inside the building, which looked similar to a bar with the hustle and bustle of the people in this village. However, that wasn't where Sigor wanted to go.

There was a small chamber, a place where the villagers used to buy and sell slaves. Sigor led Avery into the room, with Avery's attention sharpened on the bar visitors, all thugs and butchers.

As the wooden door opened, Avery got a clear view of a stocky man sitting on an almost broken chair, accompanied by a naked woman who was breastfeeding the man, a ridiculous sight.

"What's wrong?" asked the stocky man, his head half bald with both eyes reddened as if tired or addicted to something.

Sigor pushed Avery forward, drawing the attention of the stocky man and the naked woman to Avery.

"How much would you pay for him?" asked Sigor.

"What's his name?" asked the stocky man.

"He calls himself Avery Romarich," Sigor replied.

"HAHA!" laughed the stocky man, as his left hand full of jeweled rings seemed to stomp vigorously on his table, "What other moron would call himself Avery Romarich?"

"What's wrong with you people? Are you in isolation?!" snapped Avery, annoyed that nobody had noticed him yet.

The stocky man stood up straight, pointing rudely at Avery with a furious expression visible in the frown on his face, "How dare you mock our village, you bastard?!"

The stocky man's attention was drawn to Sigor. The fat man's right hand pulled out a desk drawer, retrieved five pieces of silver, and threw them at Sigor.

"Five pieces of silver. His manners piss me off!" growled the stocky man.

Sigor took the money, clucked his tongue, and spat in Avery's face. Avery grew annoyed and kicked Sigor's body hard, sending the old man flying and crashing into the room's stone wall.

"At least give me credit for selling me to this filthy bastard!" raged Avery.

The stocky man was frightened and shouted for people. Three burly men attacked Avery's body from behind, beat him up, and placed a hot iron with a circular symbol on his back.

"AAAAAKKKKH!"

Avery clenched his hands tightly into fists as he screamed at the top of his lungs. They did it for a reason: stamping Avery's back with the symbol would let people know he was a slave.

"Now, you are a slave. Your status is gone, and you will live forever as a lowly slave!" threatened the stocky man.

"Take him to the auction!" ordered the big man.

Two of his men dragged Avery's body outside. They led Avery to the second floor, where the slave auction was taking place.

Avery was breathing heavily, his eyes looking straight ahead. Arriving on the second floor, Avery saw many people gathered to buy slaves according to their needs, around 20 people.

Most were people in fancy suits, probably nobles with viscount and baron titles. No nobles with higher titles would enter a shabby place like this.

The two of the stocky man's men dragged Avery to the back of the auction's small stage, removing the rope binding Avery's hands and replacing it with a pair of handcuffs.

They landed a farewell kick to Avery's face. They leave the backstage area laughing loudly, satisfied.

One by one, the host drags the slaves to be introduced and sold until Avery's turn comes.

He brought Avery on stage, introducing him as the slave of an ex-soldier.

To everyone's surprise, the host pulls up Avery's t-shirt, revealing his muscular physique and scars.

A well-shaped and well-groomed body with a dazzlingly handsome face. The host of the auction set the starting price at one gold coin.

"Two gold coins!"

"Five gold coins!"

"Seven gold coins!"

Twenty people started offering prices according to their pockets; the highest price would bring Avery and own the man for good. Seven gold coins were the highest price at the time, bid by an old woman with a sharp look in her eyes.

"Seven gold coins for the Baron of Lucia. Does anyone else want to bid higher?" the auctioneer asked.

A young, luxurious-looking woman in a long red dress raised her hand. Her face was gorgeous, and her body was sexy. As she was about to become his mistress, Avery didn't mind.

"I'll bid 10 gold coins."

Without further bidding, Avery was sold to the beautiful woman, a Viscount of Amberwood.

Realizing she had won Avery made the woman rise to her feet, stepped closer to the small stage, and climbed up onto it. Now, the woman's face was fully before Avery.

"I never thought I'd find diamonds in a stinking place like this," the beautiful woman replied.

"Diamonds? He's just a commoner, no more," the auctioneer replied.

The woman before Avery grinned, looking sarcastically at the man in the suit on the stage, "You have no idea who he is."