Overlord and the Seraphim

『Hands』

"You know the best thing about my talent?"

Arche looked up to Jack as he spoke, raising a brow.

"I don't have to carry all the bags in my hands," Jack grinned down at her as all the clothes, the wardrobes they had picked out for her and her sisters, were all in his item box.

Giggling at the man, she shook her head slightly as they exited the store. She had all her sister's sizes in her head, along with her own. She had a good time trying on new clothes, picking out fabrics.

This was the first time she had commissioned her own ballgown in person. When her parents were still nobles, they always had her gown made for her without her insight. Now, with him, she had the chance to have her own custom dress!

She didn't even ask for it. She didn't even wish or want it before he had given it to her.

So as the two of them made their way out back onto the streets of the City, Jack looked up towards the sky above them. They had spent hours in the shop, but he wasn't tired. They both had fun, and at least they both knew it.

With their arms hooked, they continued on their way. They had gotten clothes, now what were they going to do? They could go out for an early lunch, that was only about thirty minutes to an hour away.

"Hm..." Jack's eyes wandered about the schools of people walking down either side of the walkways on the street. Compared to E-Rantel, there didn't seem to be all that much urgency.

There was no eight fingers running around.

That's when the two found themselves in front of the slave auction. His eyes were resting on the Elves which were on the stands. They were in rags, stripped of wealth and put on display. Their ears, their individuality, they hardly had either.

A frown tugged across his lips.

Expressionlessly, Arche looked upon the elves and even the humans who were being placed into slavery and sold like merchandise. While the humans were noticeably better treated, it was still depressing to see her own people up there.

"We'll need some people to take care of the house," Jack quietly squeezed her hand slightly, drawing her attention back to him.

She nodded, concurring with the thought he had shared with her. Though she could only assume it was because of pity that he was suggesting this.

Jack he had bought the large house, had already wanted to get people who would tend to the house while he was away. Whether they be hired help or slaves, it didn't matter.

So as they joined the small collective of people, slaves were being pulled up onto a small stage, put on display. The strong, the weak, the beautiful and the ugly, the young and the younger.

Small people with dirt and soot covered faces, sniffle, but dare not cry for they fear to be beaten. Women who have been sold more than once after being used and abused. There was plenty of backgrounds to go around, and all of them could be read with a single glance.

Slaves had no rights and were treated poorly by those whom wished to do so. If they weren't sold, they'd be placed on display until they were, or worse... Be sent to fight in the arena to be senselessly slaughtered in Gladiator matches or wild animals.

Slaves were lined up on the stage, kept in place by chains and shackles. Potential buyers began to ascend onto the stage in a single file line.

They'd check their teeth, their skin. They'd look for disease and other lesser qualities. It was as if watching as they chose the cleanest hog at a county fair.