66. Noble Slaves

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If the previous market were a hellhole, this must be the culmination of evil. Shabbier stalls offer their noble slaves for rent; customers could violate them on the spot. The more upscale stalls auction or outright sell their merchandise.

Now, how should we proceed?

"Damn, the Masked Lady won again?" a man curses.

"Yeah, dude, told ya ya should bet on her," another replies.

The Masked Lady?

"Why, why. Didn't expect to see you again this fast," Magnolia says, popping behind me.

"Magnolia!" I gasp. She grins.

"I should've known. You're registering for the arena, aren't you?" she asks.

"Er-"

"Ah! You must be Aelita Greenbell and John Anderson, right?" Magnolia asks.

"Er, yea. And you are?" Aelita asks back.

"Magnolia. Magnolia Greivy."

Aelita's eyes widen. "So, yea, I don't know how to register, though," I say.

"I'll lead you. Come on, follow me."

Magnolia walks straightforward. Aelita grabs my hand tightly. "Are you mad? She's Magnolia Greivy, leader of one of the most prominent terrorist groups!"

"I know," I whisper back. "Don't worry. She owes me."

"She owes you? What kind of weird shit have you done?"

We follow Magnolia closely. She stops at a shoddy shop in a house (then again, most of the shops are shady). Knocking on the door, she enters. An old man greets her with nod. His table is old and rusty; a book lays open, alongside a stack of tickets.

"Are you entering alone or with your friends?" Magnolia asks me.

I glance at John and Aelita briefly. "Alone."

"First bracket, two tickets."

"You're still entering that rigged competition, Magnolia?" a man asks. He is tall and fair, his hair smooth and blonde.

"Who's that?" I mutter.

"Vandamme," Magnolia says, as if answering me. "Yeah, well, what about yourself?"

"Just buying a spectator's ticket."

"What do you mean it's rigged?" I ask.

"Recently, the Syndicate–the organizers of the arena, if you don't know–offers a very hefty prize for the victor of the weekly first bracket arena," the man replies.

The Syndicate?

"Ah, that woman. Suzuran, Princess of Al-Azhar; her price could feed an entire nation for weeks!"

"Princess Suzuran?" Aelita blurts out.

"Yeah. But there is one caveat: the Syndicate would only allow the victor to acquire her if they could pass through the Masked Lady."

"And I take it nobody could?"

"Not yet," Magnolia says, grumbling. "I'll take a shot this night."

"You ranked first?" I ask.

Magnolia grins. "Yep. I won the tourney this morning. They give us a twelve hour break before facing the Masked Lady."

"Two spectator tickets for tommorow," Aelita orders. "Three for tonight."

"Oh, and we're staying at your inn," I say as I glance at an inn promotion poster. I hand him a chunk of an amethyst crystal.

I take the key. We walk through the house; our room is at the back. The inn itself is well-kept with no trace of spider web or dust.

"Bloody hell!" Aelita hisses to me. "What on earth are you doing?"

"Look, calm the fuck down," I say. "I know Magnolia–met her when I was with Agatha. If our hypothesis that Angelita is really behind Madu and that she is also the Masked Lady is correct, this is our golden opportunity, isn't it?"

"If. You're putting your life at stake here!" Aelita shouts.

"As we always have. We didn't get into this whole Imperial Guard business thinking all will be fine and dandy, Aelita."

"Huah .... Fine. I assume you've got a plan."

"Well, kind of. I don't think they'll do anything even if I won," I say. "This 'Syndicate'–must be the Empire–will not risk exposing themselves in front of a crowd."

"They're offering Princess Suzuran," John mutters. "Her value is massive."

"Not that massive," I say. "Al-Azhar is dead. She's not that valuable as a political piece."

Aelita and John nod a bit. "I have to confirm that it's Angelita and that she made Madu."

"You want to talk while fighting?" John worries.

"That might work. From what I know, mana manipulation magic relies much on hand-to-hand combat," Aelita says.

"Aelita's right. Angelita's fortè has always been melee combat, and I'll oblige her. From there, there are two possibilities."

"She might come back to her senses and agree to go with us. In this case, Aelita, I want you to wreck havoc. John, snatch Princess Suzuran if you can, help Aelita if you can't. After Angelita is secured, we get the hell out of there. If Angelita stays being an idiot, there are two more branches."

I catch my breath a bit. "Aelita, do you have any paralyzing poison?" I ask.

"Why, yes, of course."

"Good. Prepare me a powerful dose. If I can, I'll put her to sleep with it. If I can't, I will beat her and we'll continue with our original plan the day after."

"That's bloody complicated," Aelita says. "There are too many unknown variables here. What if you lose? What if Lord Eugene intervenes?"

"I can draw on Merango's powers a bit in a pinch, and I'm sure I would be close to Angelita now. And don't worry about Lord Eugene–he would have to reveal his demon identity."

"'kay," Aelita says, satisfied. She grabs the menu laying around. "We haven't had dinner, have we?"

John and I flock to Aelita and her menu. She flips it at thunder speed.

"Uh," Aelita mutters. "Escorts."

"We just passed through two slave markets. Escorts are the most tame thing here," I mutter. "I'll take the meat and eggs platter."

"I'll go with fish pie. John, you?"

"Beef stew and rice."

Aelita writes our orders on a piece of paper and rings the bell. A servant arrives and takes our orders.

He returns minutes later with our food. As I pick up my plate, a letter falls from below it. I open it.

Good luck. I wish to see you soon–and Angelita too, hopefully.

I grin. "Who's that?"

"My grandma. Come on, let's eat. I swear we'll bring back Angelita."







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