novelraw Chapter 89 : A Trade of Mercy
Chapter 89 : A Trade of Mercy
Rooga POV
The sun was setting over the Valemont fields, painting the sky in warm orange as the day’s work finally wound down. The villagers were already loading their carts, laughing, talking about their pay.
The five slaves stood off to the side, silent. The chains around their wrists clinked softly with every tremble of their tired bodies.
Rooga sat in the wagon beside his father, watching. His small fingers dug into the wood, his throat dry.
They looked like how he used to feel back on Earth—used, discarded, left behind because someone else took the better choice.
Second choice.
Always second choice.
He hated seeing it again.
He slid down from the wagon, small feet crunching against dirt, and walked up to the merchant, who was already counting his coins.
“Mister,” Rooga said, his voice steady for a child. “Can I buy them?”
The merchant blinked, then barked out a laugh. “Buy? Hah! Kid, you can’t afford my boots, let alone a slave.”
Rooga didn’t move. His brown eyes didn’t flinch. “Then what if I trade?”
“Trade?” the merchant repeated, amused. “With what? Mud pies?”
Before Rooga could speak, a shadow fell over them both. Darius stepped between them, resting a hand on his son’s head. “My son speaks with my word,” he said. His tone was calm but carried steel. “What do you want for them?”
The merchant’s smirk returned, sharper this time. “You’re serious? They’re nothing but baggage, Lord Valemont. But if you insist… a few carts of that fine crop of yours should do. They’ll make good fertilizer, at least.”
Selene’s voice cut through the air, cold enough to freeze blood. “Say that again.”
The merchant’s grin faltered.
Selene’s eyes burned crimson under the fading sun. “You dare call people fertilizer in my presence? Take another breath like that, and I’ll turn you into ash where you stand.”
The man stiffened. Darius raised a hand, gently but firmly. “Selene. Enough.”
He turned back to the merchant, gaze heavy. “You’ll get your crops. Now remove their chains and get off my land.”
The merchant quickly nodded, motioning for his men. The sound of metal scraping open filled the air.
The slaves—two beastkin, a lizardman, a harpy with broken feathers, and a scarred elf—stood bewildered, unchained for the first time in years.
The merchant forced a laugh to cover his unease. “A pleasure doing business, Lord Valemont. I’ll expect the crops delivered tomorrow. You’re far too kind.”
He climbed into his carriage, whipping the reins. The wagon rumbled away, and his laughter faded with the distance.
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Silence fell.
Darius sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know what this means, don’t you? We barely have enough food for ourselves, and now we’ve got five more mouths.”
Rooga looked down. “I know, Papa.”
Selene’s face softened, exhaustion replacing her fury. “Why, Rooga? Why them?”
Rooga’s voice came small but steady. “Because… nobody should live being treated like that. If they have nowhere to go, then they can stay here. I know what that feels like.”
Darius looked at his son, the weight of his words sinking deeper than any blade.
Finally, he knelt, resting a calloused hand on Rooga’s shoulder. “Then we’ll make room. Somehow.”
Selene turned her face away, but her voice trembled softly. “You and your foolish kindness, Darius. Like father, like son.”
Rooga smiled faintly. “Thank you, Mama. Thank you, Papa.”
Behind them, the five freed souls stood still, unsure whether to cry or bow. The sky darkened, and the wind carried the faint whisper of the tree beyond the fields, its leaves glowing faintly green—as if the land itself approved.
Merchant POV
The wagon rattled down the uneven dirt road, torches flickering as night deepened. Inside, crates clattered and bags of coin jingled with every bump. The merchant leaned back against the cushioned seat, humming to himself, hands tapping the polished armrest like a man proud of his profits.
One of the escorts riding beside him finally spoke.
“Master, if you don’t mind me asking… why did you let the slaves go like that? Shouldn’t they fetch something?”
The merchant let out a belly laugh, waving dismissively.
“Let go? Bah! Don’t make me laugh. They’re worth nothing.”
He counted with his fingers, like he was reciting the contents of a trash pile.
“The beast man? I don’t even remember the last time I fed him. Once, he was the best tool I had. Strong as an ox. But now? Hah, even a brat sweeping streets could do more work than that sack of bones.”
He flicked his fingers as if swatting away a fly.
“The lizard man—don’t get me started. No one wants an ugly male lizard. You can’t sell him, can’t rent him out. He’s been nothing but wasted coin since the day he showed up.”
He leaned closer, smirking. “At least if he was female, some noble with odd tastes might’ve paid a fortune. But male? Ha! Might as well throw him in a ditch.”
The escort shifted uncomfortably, but the merchant’s voice rolled on.
“The beast woman and that harpy? Once they were prime stock. Gorgeous. Easy to sell. But then…” His grin widened cruelly. “One of those pigs from the neighboring country had his fun. Paid me handsomely to look the other way. Took them both. Molested them. Plucked the harpy’s feathers clean just for a laugh. When he was done, he dumped them back on me, broken. Now? Worthless. Broken dolls no one wants.”
The merchant spat over the side of the cart.
“And the elf woman? Hah. Don’t make me laugh. She’s been in chains longer than I’ve been alive. Used up by every noble drunk enough to pay. She even bore children for them—whelps tossed aside before they grew their first teeth. Her face’s been burned, her arm lopped off, her body ruined by one degenerate noble who went too far. That bastard cost me a fortune in damages. You think that thing has value anymore? She’s just a husk. A reminder of better stock long gone.”
The escort frowned. “Still… they could be sold for cheap—”
The merchant cut him off with a smug grin.
“Why bother? Valemont practically begged to take them. Paid me in crops so healthy I’ll make ten times the profit. Beautiful produce, fresh and green, straight from a cursed land. That’s basically free. I dump my trash on him and come out richer than ever. Hah! It’s his problem now.”
The wagon jolted as it hit a rut, and the merchant leaned back with a satisfied sigh, closing his eyes.
“Slaves, crops, nobles… all the same in the end. Worth only what you can squeeze out of them.”
The escort stayed silent, knuckles white around his reins.