Chapter 5: The Price I'm Willing to Pay
*I needed to play my pieces, in order to win this game of chess.*
A few more children were called. Then—
My name.
The sound of it cut through the air like a blade, but I barely heard it. My feet moved, but my mind stayed behind—trapped in the moment I didn't save her.
I stepped forward, each footfall heavier than the last.
At the edge of the crowd, my mother gripped my father's arm like a lifeline. His gaze never left the ground.
Neither of them looked at me.
And somehow… that hurt more than if they had.
But I understood.
I didn't blame them.
Not anymore.
This was the final step before I'd be taken—sold off to some noble house as a servant, a guard, or worse. But if it gave them a chance at a better life… then it was a price I was willing to pay.
The Appraiser placed his hand on my head. I activated Conceive, hiding all but one gift.
The crystal glowed a gentle blue.
"Zaeden D'Angelo has received a B-Rank Gift: Detection. A respectable ability. Allows sensing of mana, danger, and living presences."
The room fell quiet.
Then came a few polite claps.
"B-Rank? That's rare for a farm boy."
"Maybe he'll get sold to a noble house…"
The Appraiser nodded. "Indeed. His value is considerable."
But not too considerable—not enough to attract the kingdom. Only enough to catch the eye of nobles with money and ambition.
Just as I planned.
As I walked back toward my parents, I caught Kendrick's voice behind me. He was pointing to the crest on his shirt, his tone laced with arrogance.
"A gift may shine," he said, voice smooth and venomous, "but only noble blood can wield it properly."
He turned and began to walk away.
"What's with the crest?" I asked, knowing full well how much it meant to him—just to get under his skin.
He stopped. His face twisted with anger as he turned back toward me, his voice sharp and venomous.
"Pigs shouldn't even speak of this crest. It's worth more than their entire pathetic existence."
Then he walked off again, slower this time, keeping me in the corner of his eye—watching, waiting.
My fists clenched, rage burning in my chest.
But I kept calm. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
I looked back at him, thinking:
Let him have his moment.
Let him believe he's already won.
He won't even see me coming.
And in that moment, I made a silent vow:
One day, I'll break him—not with brute strength,
but with something far deadlier:
Pure intelligence.
⸻
As we walked home, my parents didn't speak. But this time, their silence felt different.
Hopeful. Yet sorrowful.
When we reached the house, my father asked me to go inside. I didn't argue. I walked to my room, shut the door, and listened.
They spoke in hushed tones outside.
"…That's too rare for a sale. Someone will notice."
"I know," my father whispered. "But we can't keep him. Not with the debt. Not with the baby coming."
"…Roy. He's still our son."
A long silence followed.
Then:
"Just… give me tonight," my mother said softly. "One more night."
⸻
That night, I sat beneath the window, staring up at the stars.
I could hear my mother crying quietly in the next room.
It would happen soon.
I didn't fear slavery. I didn't fear hardship.
What I feared was wasting this second chance.
This world was harsh, unjust, rotten at its core. Nobles ruled with arrogance, commoners scraped by on scraps, and the gifted were either exploited or erased.
But I would change that.
One kingdom at a time.
This was only the beginning.
I'd given up my freedom so they could live.
And in doing so… I'd avoided the fate Dawn now faced.
She had been taken because she was too valuable.
I had chosen to appear slightly less
Just valuable enough to be bought… not stolen.
Just quiet enough to be ignored.
Just clever enough… to win the long game.
⸻
"He's only three," my mother whispered in the dark.
"He still smiles in his sleep…"
I heard her words through the thin walls, her voice trembling with a fragile hope she barely dared to hold.
But I couldn't sleep.
Her quiet sorrow clung to the night, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't chase it away.
But I also thought of Dawn's screams. Her fear. Her helplessness.
My inability to help.
It all hurt—painful just to imagine.
She didn't deserve it.
But this world didn't care what you deserved. Only what you were worth.
I won't be a pawn forever.
I'll rise.
I'll build my kingdom.
And I'll tear down the chains this world wraps around the gifted.
Starting with mine.
And reach.
Farther and farther.
Until even the stars knew my name.
This wasn't just a dream,
It was reality.
And
I needed to accomplish it.