After the black calamity swept through Vancia and quietly departed, three more days and nights passed in the human world. Despite the church’s efforts to calm the populace, many remained uneasy about the resurgence of demons, casting a shadow of gloom over the entire continent of Vancia.
However, there was one place that was an exception.
This city was called Solent, surrounded on three sides by mountains, making transportation extremely inconvenient. In the eyes of the average person, it was an obscure, isolated small town. Only those with a certain status and position knew that this place was practically a paradise gifted to them by the divine.
There were no legal constraints, no need to care about the noisy protests of the lowly commoners, and no need to maintain a facade of propriety. They only needed to do one thing—
Enjoy.
Enjoy the pleasures that were not allowed on the surface, dirty yet stemming from human instinct.
It was dusk, and the last rays of the sun gilded the exquisite and luxurious buildings of the city. The grand and resplendent structures reflected each other, making the entire city as bright as noon, giving the illusion that the holy golden sun would always favor this land.
Salavira stood in the center of an auction house, dressed in a sheer, transparent fabric. The surroundings were filled with noise and clamor, but he stood quietly, gazing through a window at the slowly setting sun in the west.
He felt a bit dazed.
This wasn’t his first time in Solent City; the last time he was here was two years ago.
Back then, he hadn’t yet been sent into the dark and sunless temple, and the city was far from being as prosperous as it was now.
In fact, how could Solent City two years ago compare to the “prosperity” of today?
In that chaotic era of rampant plague and rising resistance, the city was filled with disease, slaughter, and bloodshed, a veritable… ghost town.
But in just two years, the land had changed so much. Time’s merciless power was vividly displayed on this land.
The scarlet, blood-scented memories of the past stirred dark emotions in Salavira’s heart. He withdrew his gaze from the window and refocused on the crowd around him.
On the high stands around him sat masked nobles, looking down and pointing, examining him like a beautiful commodity.
Salavira couldn’t help but laugh—
Two years had passed, and the city had changed so much, yet his status was so similar.
Two years ago, he was a prisoner.
And now, he was a slave about to be auctioned.
Oh, of course, with the power of the demon’s avatar absorbed, he could easily break free and smash the auction house to pieces. The identity of a slave was merely a disguise he had to adopt to infiltrate.
He was here to investigate the truth behind the city-destroying massacre two years ago, and the first step was—
To sell himself for a good price.
The voices of the crowd rose and fell, perhaps because his face was too striking. The bidders at the auction offered higher and higher prices, quickly setting a new record for the auction house. The host standing beside Salavira was so excited that his face turned red, constantly praising his various merits and urging people to bid higher.
“Twenty million gold coins!”
“Twenty-five million!”
“Twenty-five million five hundred thousand! Any higher?!”
“Thirty million gold coins!!”
With this bid, the clamor in the auction house fell silent, leaving only the host’s nearly distorted scream: “Sold!!!”
Then, the auction house erupted in waves of screams, layer upon layer, as the usually composed and dignified nobles revealed their beastly nature.
Salavira frowned, rubbing his ears that were stung by the noise, squinting to look at the noble who had bought him for thirty million gold coins.
…
The auction procedures in Solent City were not as cumbersome as those outside. The slaves bought at auction could be delivered to the buyer’s room that very night for enjoyment.
Salavira was taken to a lavishly decorated room.
The layout of the room was strange, with only a large bed in the center. From the ceiling above the bed hung several pairs of shackles. Besides that, there was a circular cabinet surrounding the bed, filled with various strange potions and tools. But at the moment, Salavira had no mind to ponder what these things were for.
In the auction house, through the dazzling lights, he had seen the half of the buyer’s face that wasn’t covered by a mask.
It was very familiar; he had seen it before.
Originally, there weren’t many nobles who could easily afford such a high price to buy him, and similarly, there were only a few with enough power to be involved in the massacre two years ago.
It seemed he had indeed caught a big fish.
Salavira sat on the bed, touching his chin as he tried to recall the faces of those people. But unfortunately, the hurried glance in the auction house was too vague, and he couldn’t match it with anyone in his memory.
Outside the door, footsteps and voices suddenly approached from afar.
“Count, wasn’t our purpose this time to acquire the holy relic in the central castle? How could you spend such a large sum on a slave first?”
“Only thirty million, stop fussing!” The count’s tone was trying to suppress excitement and agitation, his voice even trembling at the end, “It’s the first time I’ve seen one so similar in so long. Even if it were fifty million gold coins, I would still buy this slave!”
Hearing the count say this, the accompanying butler had no choice but to wisely keep quiet.
The footsteps soon stopped at the door, interrupting Salavira’s recollection. He looked up to see the door open, and a person with an extremely familiar face stood at the entrance.
Salavira’s eyes narrowed, immediately recognizing who it was—
Count Karen, the wealthiest and most powerful noble in all of Vancia, and also one of the executioners involved in the Solent City massacre two years ago, someone Salavira would never forget.
And Count Karen had no idea what a huge trouble he had bought. He stared wide-eyed, examining the slave he had bought for a fortune, his eyes filled with undisguised greed and desire.
So similar, too similar.
He had bought so many slaves, but those guys only resembled the Holy Son of the temple in hair color, eyebrows, or voice. None had ever been like the one before him, as if he had been copied from the temple, even the undisguised look of disgust when he looked at him was identical.
Suddenly, a thought popped into Karen’s mind: could it be that the one before him was really the Holy Son of the temple?
No, it shouldn’t be. Wasn’t he taken by the demon? By now, he was probably long buried in hell…
Thinking of this, a hint of sadness appeared in Karen’s eyes, but it wasn’t the sorrow of losing an old acquaintance. It was the regret of a long-coveted toy being taken by someone else.
But just then, the person sitting on the bed crossed his legs and coldly said:
“Count Karen, long time no see.”
Karen shuddered at the words, the familiar tone and voice making him realize a fact—
The slave he bought… was actually the real Holy Son!
This fact flashed through Karen’s mind in an instant, the excitement and thrill making his scalp tingle—
“Your, Your Highness, could it really be you?”
The immense excitement made him tremble all over, collapsing to the ground as if drained of strength. But this usually dignified noble didn’t care, crawling to the bedside on all fours while laughing. He reached out to touch the fair ankle he had fantasized about countless times in his dreams, but Salavira clearly wasn’t willing. He lifted his foot and stomped down hard—
The slender high heel of the black leather red-soled short boot nailed directly into Karen’s hand!
This almost drew blood, but the one being stepped on seemed to have lost the sense of pain due to immense excitement. Not only did he not feel pain, but he also seemed to be thrilled, trembling all over, immediately reaching out with the other hand to touch Salavira’s leg:
“Your Highness, do you remember me? I knew it, I knew it! We spent such wonderful nights in the temple, you must miss them as much as I do…”
“Tsk.” Salavira was disgusted to the point of nausea by this clingy guy. Before that dirty hand could touch his leg, he lifted his other foot and stepped on Karen’s nape, pressing down hard—
The immense force and the suffocating feeling from the pressure on his windpipe finally quieted Karen down, his hands also restrained.
Then Salavira crossed his other leg, adding more pressure, making it almost impossible for Karen to breathe, only able to make a few gasping sounds, his chattering mouth finally silenced.
“Listen, Karen, I’m in a very bad mood right now. If you want to keep your life, answer whatever I ask obediently, got it?!”
Karen tried to nod, seemingly in agreement.
“And if those paws of yours keep wandering, I’ll chop them off!”
After a round of intimidation, it was unclear if Count Karen was truly frightened, but he was much quieter.
Salavira took a deep breath, the killing intent in his eyes almost overflowing: “Tell me, two years ago, what exactly did the church do in Solent? Why did the plague suddenly break out here? And why were all the people slaughtered after the city was sealed?! Not even sparing my teacher?!”
A series of questions were spoken, and the anger buried in Salavira’s heart for years finally found an outlet.
To be honest, he rarely had such intense emotions, whether excitement or sorrow, in the nineteen years since he was reborn into the human world.
But two years ago in Solent, when his mentor Margaret was hanged before his eyes, when the innocent citizens of the city died unjustly under the golden-armored cavalry, he tasted anger, hatred, sorrow, and helplessness, all sorts of bitter or spicy flavors.
These flavors were all suppressed in his heart, gradually twisting the once naive, immature, indifferent boy into his current ruthless form during the two years he was imprisoned in the temple.
“Two years ago…” Karen struggled to open his mouth, but his voice didn’t carry any fear from being intimidated, instead, there was a hint of reminiscence.
Salavira raised an eyebrow, loosening the pressure on his leg a bit, giving the person beneath him some breathing space.
“So… Your Highness, you also miss those times.” Karen let out a few chuckles from his throat, saying, “I feel the same. Why don’t you let me up, and we can go to the bed together, and I’ll slowly tell you those stories…”
Before he could finish, a fierce look flashed between Salavira’s brows, and the shadows lurking in the corners instantly attacked, chopping off one of Karen’s arms!
The intense pain finally made Count Karen belatedly realize the danger, but his screams were completely blocked by a mass of black shadows, leaving him with no ability to call for help.
Looking around now, a layer of faint shadows had unknowingly spread, thoroughly isolating this room from Solent City’s defensive array. No matter how he called for help or struggled inside, no one would come to his rescue.
Karen finally panicked.
Fear and pain replaced excitement, making his hair stand on end.
It was unclear how long it lasted, perhaps just a few seconds, or maybe as long as a few minutes. The black shadow blocking Karen’s mouth was finally mercifully removed, and the heel pressing on his neck was also moved away. Then a cold question came from above him:
“Count, can you answer my questions properly now?”
Karen nodded frantically, then immediately began to plead:
“Your Highness, Your Highness, you must believe me! I had nothing to do with those events two years ago!”
Salavira rolled his eyes at this, and the surrounding shadows once again approached Karen.
Karen shivered violently: “Your Highness! I’m telling the truth! Two years ago, I only came because I heard there was a big catch in Solent…”
“A big catch?” Salavira frowned, “Who did you hear that from?”
Karen furrowed his brows, thinking hard for a moment: “…It was Charles! Yes, that’s right, I remember now! At first, I didn’t believe there was anything good in a small place like Solent, but Charles has always been the closest to the church, so it’s not unusual for him to get some news in advance! Whatever you want to know, ask him! He definitely knows everything!!”
Salavira narrowed his eyes.
Charles…
He certainly knew this person.
But it wasn’t because this person, like other nobles, participated in the massacre in Solent two years ago. On the contrary, this person had almost no presence in many major events.
And the reason Salavira remembered him was because this person had once been judged by the church for his past identity—
He was once a follower of demons.