Our employer is already waiting in front of the city gate.

  He’s a fat merchant dressed in expensive fabrics, with a short, meticulously groomed mustache that somehow makes him look even more unpleasant. Five covered wagons stand behind him, each driven by one of his subordinates.

  At first glance, everything seems normal.

  At second glance, it isn’t.

  The drivers are slaves.

  I only realize it after looking more carefully. Their clothing is cut in a way that conceals certain features—too deliberately. Beneath the rags, I notice scales. A tail. The faint outline of folded ears. One has slit pupils like a reptile. Another’s hands are clawed. A third has feathers tucked beneath layered cloth.

  Beastkin.

  When I ask about it, the merchant wrinkles his nose in disgust.

  “I can’t stand looking at ears and tails all day,” he says flatly. “Makes me nauseous.”

  I instantly regret choosing this job based on the reward alone.

  He’s a walking stain on humanity.

  But I remember Rin’s warning: the deeper we travel into the heart of Vene, the worse it will get.

  So I swallow my disgust.

  And I’m suddenly very, very grateful that Rin insisted on buying Tiara proper clothes.

  I had protested fiercely at the time. Loudly. Passionately.

  Rin had simply stared at me and reminded me which country we were heading to next.

  Tiara looks like a completely different person now.

  Rin and Leana scrubbed her clean from head to toe—apparently she lived up to her feline heritage during bath time. There may have been claws involved. Possibly hissing.

  Her current outfit is well-tailored and high quality. In Vene, no one would suspect there’s a beastkin child hiding beneath it.

  I have to admit: the oversized yellow hat hides her ears perfectly.

  It also looks ridiculously cute and matches her amber eyes.

  If Rin weren’t one of the most powerful mages in the world, she could absolutely open a boutique and become a legendary fashion designer.

  Like with previous escort jobs, we ride along with the merchant’s wagons at first.

  Once we’re far enough away from the city and prying eyes, we carefully prepare our employer for what’s coming—using patience, persuasion, and a lot of calming words.

  Then we call our spiders from the depths of the forest.

  As usual, the merchant’s composure evaporates the moment he sees them.

  His tension gathers visibly at the tip of his nose.

  From experience, most people grow used to our mounts after a few days.

  This one?

  I very much enjoy pressing the necessity of discretion into him with particular emphasis.

  I know that eventually, someone will talk. Our spiders won’t remain secret forever.

  But I won’t pass up the opportunity to scare this slimy man just a little.

  Naturally, I keep Tiara as far away from our employer as possible.

  She rides with me on Ares.

  My loyal companion doesn’t mind the extra weight in the slightest.

  I was worried Tiara might be afraid of the massive spider.

  To my surprise, she isn’t impressed at all.

  Deep down, I’m slightly disappointed.

  She’s tougher than anyone we’ve traveled with so far.

  Cold as winter, she stands before Ares and declares:

  “I’m Tiara. I ride you. Kneel.”

  Ares—equally impressed and confused by her tone—lowers himself without argument.

  I nearly melt watching her struggle to climb onto his back right after acting so stern.

  Ares kindly lifts her by gently hooking a leg beneath her arms and sets her up properly.

  I have a feeling those two are going to get along just fine.

  After organizing the formation, we depart without delay.

  Rin rides ahead with Buttercup.

  Leana remains in the center with Teddy.

  I take the rear with Ares.

  Tiara’s safety is my priority.

  And since the merchant rides in the first wagon, serving as rearguard is not up for debate.

  I want as much distance between that man and this child as possible.

  At the border to Vene, we are stopped for inspection for the first time on our journey.

  As a flourishing trade republic, Vene doesn’t miss out on collecting customs fees. The merchant already warned us.

  We wait in line.

  I’m nervous.

  How thoroughly will the soldiers check?

  Will they search closely?

  Will they notice Tiara?

  Hopefully they won’t start asking uncomfortable questions.

  “Calm down.”

  Tiara places her small hand over mine. My fingers had tightened around Ares’ reins without me noticing.

  She looks straight into my eyes.

  Unshaken. Steady.

  I nod.

  This child has nerves of steel.

  She’s the one calming me down.

  For a brief, humbling moment, I seriously question which of us is the adult.

  She’s right—acting nervous would only make us suspicious.

  Not that riding giant spiders isn’t suspicious enough already.

  The merchant assures us he’ll handle it.

  All we can do is wait.

  So far, he hasn’t uncovered Tiara’s secret. Her striped white-and-amber hair, her tail, her ears—all concealed.

  For sleeping, we set up camp away from the wagons.

  I explain that Tiara shouldn’t witness what happens to the slaves after nightfall.

  That explanation isn’t even a lie.

  Rin, Leana, and I rotate night watch to ensure someone is always nearby in case the merchant is attacked.

  When I think about it, there was something I wanted to ask Tiara.

  I noticed it the first morning I combed her hair.

  At first, she hated it. She complained extensively—for her standards.

  She handles her fur care alone. No one else is allowed.

  Eventually, she started enjoying it.

  Later, Rin and Leana were allowed to brush her silky hair as well.

  That privilege ended the moment they braided cute little ribbons into it.

  Now she only lets me near it again.

  Rin and Leana apologized and promised never to do it again.

  But trust, once broken, takes time to rebuild.

  “Tiara,” I ask quietly, “what is that symbol on your forehead?”

  I had noticed it when I brushed her hair back.

  A golden marking near her hairline. Like a horizontal crescent moon stretching across her forehead.

  I immediately thought of a certain famous warrior with a crescent mark who used to throw a moon-shaped weapon around.

  Maybe Tiara can transform with the power of the moon and secretly fights for love and justice?

  She turns and glares at me.

  “Don’t talk about that!”

  I suppose that ends the topic.

  I knew she wouldn’t tell me. But I had to try.

  Now she’s sulking in front of me, punishing me with silence.

  I gently pat her head through the oversized hat.

  She grumbles at first—

  Then I hear it.

  A faint, adorable purr.

  My worries at the border turn out to be unfounded.

  While I’m still pondering Tiara and her secrets, we receive the signal to proceed.

  Our employer is a big player in Vene’s business circles.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  In a trade republic, that grants near absolute freedom.

  The soldiers don’t even inspect us or the wagons. After paying a generous fee, we are allowed entry.

  In no other country does the phrase “money rules the world” ring more true.

  Our escort services become increasingly unnecessary beyond the border. The roads are heavily patrolled by soldiers. Security for merchants and travelers is prioritized.

  Ironically, I have never felt safer on this journey than on these commercial roads.

  Without incident, we escort the merchant to his destination and receive our payment.

  Leana grows bored on the final stretch, so I keep her entertained with sparring practice.

  I’ve wanted to train her in close combat for a while now. She shouldn’t be helpless without her bow.

  The clearing in the forest is still vivid in my memory.

  In the city’s guild, we find no escort missions heading to Hatsuria.

  On these secure roads, hiring adventurers is considered unnecessary expense.

  Which means the final leg to Hatsuria feels almost like a family camping trip.

  Riding Ares is far more comfortable than those miserable horses.

  After three days of travel by spider, we finally see them—

  The massive walls of Hatsuria.

  And behind them—

  A gigantic blue ocean stretching across the entire horizon.

  “Ahhh, finally the sea!” Rin shouts happily, inhaling the salty air.

  “It is an impressive sight,” Leana agrees in her usual reserved tone.

  Only her normally calm gray eyes betray her awe.

  Tiara grows quieter than ever at the sight of the enormous city.

  She leans back against my chest, trembling.

  I hold her gently with one arm.

  She doesn’t take her eyes off the walls. As if they might come alive and attack her at any moment.

  That reaction tells me more than words ever could.

  Was she brought to this continent alone?

  Or with her family?

  Standing here won’t give me answers.

  And Tiara won’t offer them.

  So we continue toward the city

  ***

  Shortly before reaching the city, we send our spiders back into the wilderness to avoid causing unnecessary panic.

  Entering Hatsuria on foot is expensive enough. There’s an entry fee, a temporary visa charge—and apparently even children receive a small discount.

  For Tiara.

  I can’t shake the feeling that we’re visiting an amusement park and I’m grateful for the family rebate.

  Hatsuria is beautiful.

  The streets are alive with color and noise. Market stalls line the cobblestone roads and narrow alleys. Houses stand shoulder to shoulder in warm orange tones that glow under the afternoon sun.

  For a moment, I’m hit with an unexpected wave of nostalgia.

  It reminds me of family vacations in Italy.

  I stroll between Rin and Leana, one on each arm, smiling to myself like an idiot. Tiara walks ahead of us—alert, cautious. Every few steps she glances back to make sure we’re still there.

  I offered to carry her on my shoulders.

  She rejected the idea with a frosty glare.

  Shame. That would have completed the perfect mental image of a cheesy family holiday.

  I savor the peace. The laughter, the smells of grilled fish and spices, the merchants shouting about fresh goods and special prices. We stop frequently to inspect displays, much to the visible annoyance of our small princess, who keeps shooting us impatient looks.

  Now I’m absolutely convinced this is exactly what a family vacation feels like.

  I grin like a fool.

  “Before we look for an inn,” I suggest, “let’s go see the sea. Feel the sand. Breathe the air.”

  Rin and Leana nod immediately.

  Tiara seems relieved at the thought of leaving the dense streets for a while.

  Decision made.

  The kitten darts around the next corner—

  And stops dead.

  She turns toward us.

  Her eyes are wide with terror.

  Her entire body trembles.

  We rush over and cautiously peer around the corner.

  A broad, bright street stretches ahead, just as lively as the others.

  Halfway down, it transitions into a bridge crossing a narrow canal.

  But the merchants lining the sides aren’t selling fruit or souvenirs.

  They’re selling people.

  Humans and beastkin sit in cages.

  Chained to posts.

  Kneeling. Standing. Lying motionless.

  Dead eyes stare into nothing.

  Beside them, traders loudly advertise their merchandise—strength, beauty, obedience.

  I had tried to prepare myself since that conversation with Rin and Leana back at the Golden Lantern Inn.

  It doesn’t help.

  Reality crashes down with brutal clarity.

  Tiara pulls me back to the present by gripping my hand tightly.

  “Don’t worry,” I whisper. “I won’t leave you alone.”

  Together, the four of us step out onto the street.

  The sea glimmers faintly at the horizon between the buildings. This is the shortest route.

  Turning away won’t change what exists here.

  The sight unsettles all of us.

  Rin and I had only read about slavery before. Theory is different from standing in the middle of it.

  Leana has never left her forest until recently. Even her stoic composure begins to falter.

  And Tiara—

  For the first time since I met her, she looks small.

  She clings to my hand.

  We let our guard slip.

  That mistake almost costs us everything.

  “Watch out! Behind you!”

  A woman’s voice cuts through the noise like a blade.

  In the next heartbeat, something white and fluffy flies past us.

  It lands feet-first in the face of a man directly behind us.

  The impact sends him hurtling down the street.

  We stare, stunned, as his shadow begins to writhe unnaturally after he crashes to the ground.

  A darker shape detaches from it—

  And melts into the surrounding shadows of buildings and people.

  I understand instantly.

  A shadow entity.

  We snap back to alertness, scanning our surroundings.

  If there are more, they’ve retreated.

  Not a second of inattention.

  Still, we stare at our rescuer in disbelief.

  Before we can speak, a round man storms toward us, waving his arms wildly.

  “This is exactly why I can’t sell you!” he bellows, out of breath. “Fourth time you’ve broken free and pulled some stunt! The other traders are already gossiping that I can’t even train a rabbit properly!”

  The rabbit woman lifts her chin with elegant composure.

  “I had to help,” she says calmly. “I cannot stand by while something so dreadful unfolds before my eyes.”

  I’m momentarily speechless.

  She is tall.

  Graceful.

  Sun-kissed skin. Sky-blue eyes. Short white hair. Long white ears rising proudly from her head.

  She carries herself with the posture of nobility.

  So much so that I nearly overlook the dark slave collar around her neck.

  The trader slumps.

  “You’re a slave. You do nothing without my command. I don’t understand how you endure the pain of the slave magic when you defy me like this. I even paid extra to have it reinforced.”

  She stands straight before him.

  “The pain is insignificant. I would regret far more having done nothing. It is my duty—my honor—as a former maid of the House—”

  “You are not a housemaid anymore,” the trader interrupts wearily. “You are a slave.”

  And yet he already sounds defeated.

  I finally regain my voice.

  “Thank you for saving us.”

  Both of them look at me as if noticing my existence for the first time.

  So this is what it feels like to be background decoration.

  Still—I want to help her.

  And not just because she is breathtakingly beautiful.

  You don’t need to smirk like that, Rin.

  Why do I always feel transparent near you?

  “I’d like to repay you,” I continue. “Is there something I can do for you?”

  The rabbit woman smiles faintly.

  “Buy me.”

  I blink.

  “Well… I mean… I don’t really want to own slaves… maybe I could just free you?”

  Her blue eyes don’t waver.

  “That is not possible. Under these circumstances, I cannot return. My failure has not been sufficiently atoned for. I shall endure this disgraceful existence as penance.”

  I have absolutely no idea what she did back home.

  But choosing slavery as self-punishment seems… extreme.

  Before I can respond, the trader slips smoothly into the conversation.

  “If I may, young sir—purchasing her would provide her with belonging. Without that, her fate would be tragic indeed. Beastkin are not well regarded here. Especially former slaves. You heard her—she does not wish to be freed. But with a kind master such as yourself, surely she would live comfortably.”

  Rin steps forward, cool and sharp.

  “Slaves—especially beastkin—are expensive. I doubt we can afford to ‘rescue’ her.”

  The trader pauses.

  “How much do you have?”

  “Two silver,” Rin replies evenly. “And if I recall correctly, a woman like her costs at least fifteen gold.”

  A blatant lowball.

  One gold equals one hundred silver.

  One silver equals one hundred copper.

  A simple system. Clean. Predictable. Like every proper fantasy world.

  For context: a normal family can live comfortably for a month on fifty silver.

  The trader’s grin widens.

  “Deal.”

  We all stare at him.

  He continues smoothly:

  “Think of it as an investment. Soon it will be said that Brovis can sell any slave. Even one who resists slave magic and is worth less than nothing.”

  Rin and Leana glance at me.

  The decision is mine.

  I consider carefully.

  My choice is absolutely not influenced by her impressive figure or the absurd fluffiness of her ears.

  “Deal,” I say. “If that’s the only way I can help her.”

  We shake hands.

  His grin becomes almost grotesque.

  We follow him into his shop. Other beastkin sit inside—a wolf man, a delicate bird woman, others. None even lift their heads.

  I want this done quickly.

  Rin, Leana, and Tiara wait outside at a food stall.

  I pay.

  He hands me official ownership documents.

  More importantly, the slave magic must transfer.

  The rabbit woman and I stand inside a ritual circle drawn on the floor. It glows blue when activated.

  I cut my finger.

  Let drops of blood fall onto the collar.

  For a moment, I feel like I’ve joined a satanic cult.

  The collar flares bright.

  She screams.

  He smiles.

  “Very good. The ritual has been completed successfully. Until now this troublesome slave resisted every previous buyer. Each time I had to refund the payment. It seems, young sir, that she has accepted you as her master. That is why the slave magic was finally able to take hold.”

  How twisted do you have to be to sound pleased about something like that?

  Then again… this must simply be what he is. Otherwise his conscience would’ve destroyed him long ago.

  I lift the rabbit-woman into my arms and head for the exit without another word.

  “Please don’t forget the belongings sold with this beastperson,” the trader calls, pressing a filthy sack into my hand.

  “Enjoy your slave!” he adds cheerfully as I step outside.

  I don’t look back.

  ***

  I walk straight toward the others, who are waiting near a food stall with something warm and fragrant in their hands.

  “You don’t have to inhale it,” Rin says dryly.

  Tiara, entirely unimpressed, has buried her whole face in the bowl.

  I can’t help smiling as I approach.

  In that moment, the rabbit-woman in my arms stirs and looks up at me in surprise.

  “Master, it is improper for you to carry me in this manner. Such treatment is not appropriate for a servant and slave,” she states, her refined composure completely intact.

  How does someone speak with that much poise right now?

  I should clarify this before it gets awkward.

  “Sorry, but you’ll have to get used to it. I’m not putting you down while your legs are still shaking from that damn magic. And drop the formal speech. It reminds me of when a court instructor tried to beat etiquette and noble conversation into me. Still gives me chills.”

  She watches me with open curiosity.

  Right. We haven’t even introduced ourselves.

  I saw her for the first time half an hour ago—and bought her.

  Back in my old world, impulsively buying something on sale was normal.

  Buying a slave… feels wrong in ways I don’t even have words for.

  She pulls me from my thoughts.

  “I gratefully accept being carried. However, I will not change my manner of speech or address. It reflects my position and rank as your slave.”

  “Has anyone ever told you that slaves are supposed to listen when their master gives an order?” I ask, more irritated than I mean to sound.

  “Yes. On many occasions,” she replies evenly. “However, I see no reason to obey instructions that contradict etiquette or my standing. My training as a maid allows me to anticipate and fulfill my master’s wishes perfectly. That is my pride.”

  …Yeah. This is going to be interesting.

  Now I understand why the trader was relieved to get rid of her.

  And yet—someone who can think for herself is far more useful on the road ahead than a mindless order-follower.

  And there is something else I appreciate too.

  “Master, I understand that human men may suffer from boundless desire. However, it is not proper to indulge such impulses in public. If that is to be part of my duties, I kindly ask that you wait until nightfall. Therefore, please remove your hand. Otherwise, I will walk.”

  My hand immediately retreats from her backside to her back.

  Tiara’s presence has ensured I haven’t had a single undisturbed night with the others.

  Apparently, these are the side effects.

  We gather the others and head toward the beach. The noise of the market slowly fades, giving us space to bring the newcomer up to speed about our mission.

  After a while, Rin interrupts me.

  “What’s your name, actually?”

  Right.

  We’ve talked so much that I never asked.

  That’s… embarrassing.

  “I do not have the right to bear the name I once held. Therefore, I have no name,” the rabbit-woman replies.

  “I don’t quite follow,” Rin says thoughtfully. “But having no name will be inconvenient in the long run.”

  “If I require a name, it is my master’s duty to grant me one,” she answers, as if that settles everything.

  The group stops.

  All eyes turn to me.

  “I’ve never been good at naming things,” I mutter. “But I guess I can’t dodge this.”

  I take a proper look at her.

  Short white hair. White ears.

  Eyes like a clear summer sky.

  Then it clicks.

  “Celeste,” I say. “Your blue eyes and white fur remind me of the sky with soft clouds drifting through it.”

  “Celeste…” she repeats quietly.

  She slips from my arms and bows deeply.

  “Thank you, Master. It is a beautiful name. I will carry it with honor and humility.”

  I give her a strained smile.

  If she keeps speaking to me like that, I might actually die of embarrassment.

  But the look in her eyes tells me I’m fighting a losing battle.

  ***

  At last, we reach the shore.

  The ocean is breathtaking.

  Since my rebirth, I haven’t seen the sea. I’d forgotten how beautiful it can be.

  The scent of salt and fish lingers in the air.

  Waves roll endlessly across the sand.

  Sunlight scatters across the water in shimmering fragments.

  For a while, the exhaustion slips away.

  We stay alert, of course. We won’t repeat the mistake we made at the slave market.

  As the sun sinks lower, staining the sea a deep, glowing red, we lie in the sand and watch the horizon.

  Rin is the first to break the silence.

  “We should look for an inn and figure out how to secure an audience with the local ruler. Vene can’t help us through the military, but having a wealthy supporter in the background won’t hurt. If we’ve come all this way, we should get something out of it.”

  We nod, each lost in thought.

  “Saving the world from eternal darkness and enslavement should be good for business too,” Rin adds dryly.

  Tiara has fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion. The constant tension in the city must have drained her completely.

  We should find lodging.

  Unfortunately, I’m currently unable to assist.

  Rin and Leana found it hilarious to bury me in sand up to my neck. In the end, they even convinced Tiara to help. Celeste is now digging me out after the others lost interest and left me there.

  “I cannot assist with the former matter,” Celeste says thoughtfully while shoveling sand, “but I heard merchants praising an inn called ‘The Singing Sea Bream.’”

  That settles it.

  We head back toward the city, still lively even at night.

  The atmosphere has shifted. Women stand at street corners, winking at passing men.

  I ignore most of it, focusing on not losing the others in the crowd.

  Tiara, incidentally, now allows me to carry her on my back without protest after causing such a fuss earlier. She must be truly exhausted.

  I just hope the inn still has a room.

  We should hurry.

  “Look, that handsome one would be a refreshing change from the usual clientele.”

  “Forget it. He’s carrying a child and surrounded by three stunning beauties. You don’t stand a chance.”

  “A girl can dream.”

  The two women sigh and turn away, searching for easier prey.

  Several conversations like that drift through the side streets.

  The hero’s party remains blissfully unaware as they continue their search for an inn for the night.