The Rising of the Shield Hero Volume 10 Page 4

  “I see . . .”

  “Since that would include the others from Miss Raphtalia’s village, I had hoped the proclamation would allow us to quickly find any survivors.”

  I had already figured out what the queen was trying to say, but I didn’t want to hear the words, honestly. Even Raphtalia was turning pale.

  “Our investigations show that the results have been less than favorable. It would seem that before the emancipation proclamation was even made, the slaves were sold off and their whereabouts largely remain a mystery.”

  Shit! Would the filth of this country ever stop dragging me down?! I mean, it’s not like I couldn’t understand their motivations. If I found out an item was going to be nerfed in an online game, I would sell it off in a flash. But come on! Ugh . . . this really sucked.

  “Our investigations continue, and the . . . monster trainer . . . that you patronize is currently searching for Miss Raphtalia’s friends.”

  In other words, they hadn’t found them. That’s why they were still searching. I steadied Raphtalia, who started to look like her legs might give out on her. And the fact that my plan had already hit a brick wall from the very get-go started to sink in.

  “Fortunately, Keel and three others have already returned to the Seaetto territory.”

  So there were four in all, counting Keel. That was it? Considering the kind of development I had in mind, we would need a lot more than that. I was left with no other choice.

  “For the time being, it looks like we’ll just have to round up some demi-human slaves without being too picky.”

  “Mr. Naofumi!”

  “We can’t build a territory with four people. We need more.”

  There were all kinds of things that needed to be done.

  “It is what it is. We’ll just start off by buying some cheap but useable slaves.”

  “Un . . . understood.”

  “I’m sure they’ll probably end up being children.”

  Younger slaves would have more room for growth, among other things. I continued to mull over the situation as we parted ways with the queen and headed for the slave trader’s tent.

  We threw on cloaks and made our way through the back alleys toward that oh-so-familiar tent for the first time in a long while.

  “Oh?”

  There sat the slave trader—a man I would have preferred not to associate with—looking bored, waiting for the next customer. Wasn’t he supposed to be searching for the slaves from Raphtalia’s village? I doffed my hood to show my face and gave him a salutatory wave.

  “Well if it isn’t the Shield Hero! It’s been a while. I’ve heard the news of your recent successes.”

  “Long time no see.”

  “I thought you might have forgotten about me.”

  “I doubt anyone could forget someone like you.”

  How should I put it? The guy had a unique air about him that would make it difficult to forget him. He seemed far more adept at his trade than your average merchant. This kind of business was all about making sure your customers remembered you, after all.

  Come to think of it, we hadn’t been back since we came to buy Filo’s claws. Not since the time we hadn’t been able to class up at the dragon hourglass. The slave trader had coaxed us into heading for Siltvelt or Shieldfreeden back then.

  Wait a minute . . . Judging from his earlier comment, could it be that he had secret ties to the queen?

  “You’ve played your own little part, too, haven’t you? To think you had secret ties with the monarch . . .”

  “I wasn’t lying when I told you I liked you from the moment I saw you.”

  “Yeah, yeah. We’ll just leave it at that.”

  “And what can I do for you today?”

  “I’m here about your actual line of work.”

  “Oh!”

  The slave trader’s eyes twinkled conspicuously. I wasn’t sure what he was getting so excited about, but I wasn’t going to let things go his way. I could imagine he was probably secretly delighted over the fact that I was still buying slaves even after my rise to fame.

  “I’m looking to buy some cheapish demi-human slaves for now. The lower their level, the better.”

  “What kind of budget are we looking at?”

  I had 5,000 silver pieces that the queen had given me before the Spirit Tortoise incident.

  “Around 5,000 silver. Including the slaves you’re currently searching for, too, of course.”

  “An investment for a new project, I presume?”

  “I’ve told you before—don’t ask me contrived questions you already know the answer to.”

  Just how much did this guy know, anyway? I had a feeling I might just believe it if he told me he could see the future or something.

  “This way.”

  The slave trader motioned us toward the inner depths of his tent. We began to follow behind him, but Filo came to a halt.

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t wanna go . . .”

  She must have picked up on the grim atmosphere and signature stench that lay ahead. I had gotten used to it, but it certainly wasn’t pleasant.

  “How about you just stay put, then.”

  “Okay!”

  Filo nodded as she sniffed at the lottery monster eggs. Did she realize that was where our paths had joined? I warned her not to eat the eggs and then chased after the slave trader. After catching back up to him, we approached the cage where I had met Raphtalia.

  “This is the place where my fate was forever changed,” Raphtalia murmured.

  It wasn’t that I couldn’t understand her sentiment, but . . . thinking about it now, it had really only been a short amount of time, even though it felt so long. It hadn’t even been six months yet.

  “I’ll make you a special deal today.”

  “How generous of you.”

  “I’m very excited about this intriguing little project you’re starting. You’re going to become a regular customer now, I presume?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Business is good thanks to the Shield Hero!”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I’m sure you’ll understand if you just think of it as the same phenomenon that occurred with the bird god.”

  Ah . . . Raphtalia had played a big part in our success, after all. I’m sure the coalition army held her in high regard, too. If people knew that a slave like that had been purchased from this guy, his business was sure to benefit.

  “But that’s pointless if you don’t have any slaves from Raphtalia’s village in stock.”

  “Oh, no. That’s a completely different issue. Yes sir.”

  “Let’s start with . . .”

  I figured I would just pick several slaves that caught my eye.

  “This one, this one, and that one. Also, that one over there, that one under the blanket, and that one, too.”

  I picked two boys that looked relatively healthy, a couple of trembling slaves that were holding hands like they were friends, another that was wrapped up in a blanket and trembling near the back of the cage, and lastly one who was standing near the cage door, staring at Filo. Eclair already had four slaves at the territory, so that made a total of ten. That seemed just about right to kick things off.

  “Oh yeah. I’ll be applying the slave curses at my territory, so we’ll need to take someone who can perform the ceremony with us. It’ll be necessary to enhance their abilities.”

  “Such a seemingly random selection, and yet you choose such fine specimens—the Shield Hero has a good eye! My hat’s off to you! Yes sir!”

  “Fehhh . . .”

  “Mr. Naofumi? Perhaps you should choose a bit more carefully?”

  “I just went back and forth between the healthy-looking ones and the ones that looked problematic. Hey, you in the blanket—come over here.”

  I was sure this one would be weak and feeble. I could tell it was trembling in fear, too. The slave trader gave an order and a brawny m
an opened the cage and tore the blanket away from the child.

  “No . . . don’t!”

  “Oh?”

  With the blanket gone, I could see the slave resembled a mole.

  “That’s a lumo, a type of therianthrope known for its nimble hands. Their eyes are sensitive to light, which makes them a good choice for nighttime security duties. This one is a child, of course.”

  “Ahh!”

  The lumo slave was cowering in fear in the corner. Raphtalia looked concerned.

  I took a closer look at the appearance of the lumo child. If I had to describe him in one word, I’d have to go with “mole.” He was kind of like the mole version of a werewolf or something. And he was short—only about as tall as my waist. Was that because he was a child?

  So it was known for its ability to do detailed work, huh? I had all kinds of work for them in my plans, so that was fine.

  “Speaking of detailed work, racoon types—like your associate here—are also quite dexterous, you know.”

  I looked at Raphtalia. Now that I thought about it, I’d never taught her to do work like that. I’d had her help tan some monster hides, but that was about it. Maybe the fact that she didn’t express interest in doing that kind of thing meant that she was naturally clumsy.

  “You’re thinking about something rude, aren’t you?”

  “Not really . . .”

  “But yes, lumo types tend to be well suited for delicate work that requires dexterous hands. They also tend to be rather reserved. A good choice. Yes sir.”

  I took another look at the trembling lumo slave.

  “Is it just me or does this country have a lot of scumbags that are into physical abuse?”

  Every slave I’d seen was covered in scars from being whipped.

  “This country has a long history of being at war with the demi-humans, so it’s only natural. Yes sir.”

  “Meaning people like the nobility that fought in those wars use physical abuse to make themselves feel better about the past?”

  The nobleman that Raphtalia had gotten tangled up with had done just that.

  “We even have a special low-priced option for borrowing a slave just to physically abuse it a bit before returning it. Yes sir. We require the slave to be purchased outright at a hefty sum when it’s not returned in usable form.”

  The shadiness of this country was astounding. Watching on as I reconstructed the demi-human village would probably leave a bitter taste in the mouths of the nobility.

  “Physical abuse is punishable by law, of course. Yes sir.”

  “So it’s illegal? The way it’s treated sure makes it seem legal.”

  I couldn’t help but feel that way thinking about this tent tucked away in a back alley.

  “And that’s why my business is thriving. Yes sir.”

  Thriving, huh? The slave trader’s way of proudly flaunting it made him seem seriously shady. Tell me then, why was he selling slaves that had been physically abused, anyway?

  “Now that you mention it, he does look better than most, I guess.”

  Raphtalia’s response was practically a whisper.

  Was this really better than most? I looked at the wounds on the lumo slave’s back. They seemed surprisingly deep. It was a blotchy mess of layers upon layers of scars from being whipped repeatedly.

  “Zweite Heal!”

  I cast some healing magic and the lumo slave’s open wounds began to close. Still, the wounds were deep and far from being fully healed.

  “Huh?”

  “I hear you’ve got dexterous hands.”

  “I don’t know.”

  The lumo slave looked away when he answered. That was certainly a better response than claiming he could do something that he couldn’t.

  “Will you put them to use if I teach you?”

  “If that’s an order then I will. So please, don’t beat me.”

  The lumo slave shrunk away, his voice strained as if he were about to cry. I guess I couldn’t blame him, being a slave and all.

  “I’m not interested in that kind of thing. If it’s a beating you want, then ask someone else.”

  “Huh?”

  Okay, now he was starting to get on my nerves.

  “I’ll leave you some medicine, so treat their wounds. After that, go ahead and take care of the slave registration.”

  “I look forward to seeing how the Shield Hero makes use of the slaves. So very exciting! Yes sir!”

  “Enough with that, already! I have to take care of some other preparations in the meantime, and then I’ll be back. Don’t let me down.”

  “Heh heh heh . . . Exciting times ahead. Yes sir.”

  I left things in the slave trader’s hands and headed back toward the entrance of the tent with Raphtalia in tow. Filo caught sight of me and came running over.

  “Finiiiished?”

  “Yeah. Still some formalities that need to be taken care of, but we have other things to see to while that gets done.”

  I stepped out of the tent. I still had plenty of other places to stop by, after all.

  Chapter Three: Acquaintances

  We threw our cloaks back on and roamed the town a bit, observing. The damages really had been severe. The scars left by the Spirit Tortoise ran deep, and countless signs of the onslaught of its familiars still remained.

  Shortly after, we arrived at the shop that we had been headed for. Oh, thank goodness . . . The shop hadn’t suffered any noticeable damage and was open for business as usual. I stepped into the old guy’s weapon shop.

  “Welcome!”

  “Glad to see you’re okay.”

  “That voice . . . Is that you, kid?!”

  I doffed my hood and greeted the old guy. He seemed to be in one piece—not a single scratch to show, thankfully.

  “Why are you wearing a cloak?”

  “Don’t want to stand out.”

  “Ah, that’s right. You’re an overnight sensation, kid.”

  That was the real problem. I was no Itsuki, but the happy greetings . . . “Shield Hero!” just gave me the creeps. I suppose I could have basked in feelings of superiority, but being well loved by the riffraff of this country wasn’t really something to be proud of. Not to mention, I had way too many things I needed to take care of now. I didn’t have time to waste on meaningless affairs.

  “People tagging along in droves would only cause trouble, right?”

  I replied to the old guy while giving the inside of the shop a look-over.

  “Doesn’t seem to be any damage of note from what I can see.”

  “Yeah, not really. I chased off any monsters that showed up here.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  “I guess I had you all wrong. Here I thought you looked disappointed or something when you showed up.”

  “You’re so full of it.”

  The old guy had done so much for me, but we still went back and forth like this.

  “This thing is all covered in dust now since you never came to pick it up, kid.”

  The old guy brought a small sword over.

  Pekkul Rapier

  quality: good

  imbued effects: agility up, magic power up, blood clean finish

  Oh yeah . . . This must have been the weapon I’d requested for Rishia so long ago.

  “Did you come to order something else?”

  The rapier seemed just about right for Rishia. Or maybe I should have Eclair use it?

  “Support from the castle isn’t going to come so readily anymore. I figured I’d have you put my orders for weapons and gear on hold for now.”

  “I guess that’s to be expected. The castle town wasn’t hit that hard, but this has been a major disaster for us and the surrounding countries, too.”

  “How’s business been?”

  “Having just had a disaster like this, everyone wants a weapon, so they come and buy them here.”

  “So business is booming?”

  “You could say that. With all t
he sales, I’m actually a bit worried about stock.”

  “That’s booming, alright.”

  “Thing is . . . I’m not quite sure how I feel about a bunch of amateurs running around and buying up all of the weapons.”

  That couldn’t be helped. Amateurs or not, people would want weapons if they felt like they were in danger. It was that same mindset—just like when there’s a natural disaster people start buying up water and food rations. There had been a battle, so now people wanted weapons. It didn’t seem like there had been any looting as far as I could tell, so the situation could have been worse.

  “Is that all for today?”

  “Well, there is something . . .”

  I was trying to decide whether to have the old guy make a bunch of weapons for the slaves. I had already discussed things with the queen and I knew she could supply some used weapons, but the available resources would make anything more than that tough. I wasn’t sure if we really needed anything more than that, but the fact that they were used meant they would have plenty of issues.

  With that in mind, I decided to go ahead and approach the old guy.

  “I had the queen give me a territory, and I have a large-scale project in the works.”

  It would be useful to have the old guy around to make weapons for the slaves, among other things. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask.

  “And what does that have to do with me, kid?”

  “You could say I came here as a headhunter, if you catch my drift.”

  If the old guy set up shop at the territory, that could be a source of income. I had confidence in his skills and I was sure he’d get plenty of business.

  “I’ve already got this shop, you know.”

  “I know that. I’m not trying to force you to do anything. I just figured . . . maybe you could take an apprentice or two. Think about it.”

  “Ah, so that’s what you meant. Sure thing, kid. That said, I don’t really think I’m good enough to be taking on apprentices or anything.”

  Alright, he’d given me his word. Now I’d be able to have one of my more dexterous slaves become an apprentice of the old guy and learn his trade. Skill in a trade would mean money. Of course, I didn’t plan to bite the hand that feeds me or anything like that.