Raylo nodded. "Great strength is just what I need. My mines to the north are short-handed."
"This one, and these..."
Raylo casually pointed out ten Barbarian slaves, including the young boy, who appeared to be the strongest and whose eyes held the most "vigor."
"What's the price?"
Seeing Raylo select his targets so quickly—and picking the most valuable, able-bodied Barbarians at that—Andrew was secretly delighted. His eyes darted about as he quoted a price. "An excellent eye, my Lord! These are the tough ones we had a hard time capturing. For each... fifty Golden Dragons!"
The price was obviously inflated.
The market price for an ordinary, able-bodied Barbarian slave was somewhere between twenty and thirty Golden Dragons.
Andrew had correctly guessed that Raylo was in urgent need of labor and had taken the initiative to ask, so he was trying to seize the opportunity to hike the price.
Raylo didn't even raise an eyebrow, though the corner of his mouth curved into a barely perceptible smirk.
"Steward Andrew, are you joking with me? Fifty Golden Dragons? For that price, I could buy a well-trained gladiator in the South."
He paused, his voice laced with a hint of mockery. "These 'tough ones' of yours? To me, they're nothing but wild dogs with broken backs. It's a wonder if they'll even survive until next spring. I'm only buying them to save myself the trouble of having to recruit drifters. Twenty Golden Dragons apiece. Not a coin more."
The smile on Andrew's face froze for a moment.
"My Lord, that... that's far too low! Look at their builds, their Power..."
"Builds? Power?"
Raylo scoffed and pointed at the defiant Barbarian boy.
"Look at the wounds on him. Then look at their numb expressions. After I buy them, I'll have to treat their injuries, provide food, and assign guards to stop them from escaping or rioting. These are all costs. Twenty Golden Dragons is a generous offer, considering I'm the one in need of manpower."
"My Lord, thirty-five! I can't go any lower! That's practically my cost!"
Andrew started to haggle.
"Twenty-five."
Raylo was unmoved.
"That's my final offer. If you don't think it's worth it, we can forget the whole thing. Black Stone Town may be short on men, but I'm in no particular hurry."
He acted nonchalantly, as if he couldn't care less whether the deal went through.
Andrew looked at Raylo's calm expression, then looked at the slaves he had brought.
Losing slaves during a long journey was common; selling them off quickly was better than having them die on the road.
He gritted his teeth, appearing to make a difficult decision. "Fine! Twenty-five it is! Let's just say I'm making a new friend! But, my Lord, that boy you chose..."
He pointed to the Barbarian boy with the ferocious gaze.
"That kid's a real firebrand. Several of our guards have already gotten roughed up by him. Once you take him back, you'll need to watch him carefully."
Ed stepped forward, took a pouch from an attendant, and counted out two hundred and fifty heavy Golden Dragons, handing them to Andrew.
The deal was done.
The ten Barbarian slaves, including the boy named Thor, were taken into custody by the guards Ed had brought.
They stared blankly at their surroundings, not seeming to have fully processed yet another twist in their fate.
Thor still wore his proud and defiant expression, but when his gaze swept over Raylo, a complex, unreadable emotion flickered in his eyes.
"Thank you for your patronage, my Lord!"
Andrew secured the Golden Dragons, his face plastered with a grin.
"Does my Lord require any other 'goods'? We have some other fine stock..."
"That won't be necessary."
Raylo waved his hand.
"Have your team finish their resupply and be on your way. Black Stone Town is small and can't accommodate too many visitors."
"Yes, yes, of course! We'll be ready in a moment!"
Andrew agreed profusely, not daring to say another word.
Raylo had Old Buck handle the subsequent arrangements for the Slave Capture Team.
Raylo turned to look at the ten Barbarian slaves he had just purchased.
The wounds on their bodies stung in the cold air, but what tormented them more was the uncertainty of their future and a humiliation that cut to the bone.
They were like livestock waiting to be allocated once more.
Raylo strode before them, with Ed following close behind.
"Heads up."
Raylo's voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable authority.
The slaves hesitated. Most kept their heads bowed in numb submission.
Only the boy named Thor kept his chin raised, glaring at Raylo with bloodshot eyes like a trapped young animal.
Raylo's gaze swept over them.
"I know you hate me, and you hate everyone who turned you into slaves."
He paused, observing their reactions.
Aside from Thor's glare growing more ferocious, the others showed little reaction. Perhaps it was despair, or perhaps they simply didn't believe their new master would have anything good to say.
"But now, your fate is in my hands."
Raylo continued, his tone even.
"I'll give you a choice."
These words finally elicited a reaction. A few of the slaves slowly lifted their heads.
"I need men. I need laborers for the mines, and I need Warriors who can fight for me."
Raylo pointed toward Black Stone Town in the distance.
"Here, Warriors are respected. They get food, Weapons, and may even earn their freedom and glory. As for laborers..."
He didn't continue, but the meaning was self-evident.
"You have a choice. You can continue as a slave laborer, ordered about with no guarantee you'll see the next sunrise... or you can take up a Weapon, pledge your loyalty to me, and become a Warrior."
A dead silence fell over the clearing, broken only by the whistling wind.
The Barbarian youths had clearly never expected to hear such words.
'Slaves are slaves. Since when do they get to choose?'
They looked at each other, their eyes filled with suspicion and distrust.
'Become a Warrior?'
'Pledge loyalty to the Human Lord who bought us?'
'It sounds like some kind of twisted joke.'
No one responded.
Thor actually let out a sneer and turned his head away, as if he found Raylo's words to be an insult to Barbarian Warriors.
"It seems you don't believe me."
Raylo wasn't surprised. He had anticipated this reaction.
"Or perhaps, you think pledging loyalty to a human who 'bought' you is a disgraceful affair?"
His gaze once again fell on Thor.
"The Barbarian Race worships Power, correct? The strong rule the weak."
Thor suddenly turned his head back, staring fiercely at Raylo, a low growl coming from his throat.
"Very good."
Raylo nodded, a smile touching his lips. But that smile sent a chill down the spine of Ed, who stood beside him.
"Then we'll settle this the Barbarian way."
"The ten of you can challenge me, one by one."
Raylo held up one finger.
"If even one of you can defeat me, all of you will be granted your freedom, effective immediately. I will have my men escort you safely from my lands. I swear on it."
At these words, all ten Barbarian youths froze, their eyes then bursting with an incredulous light.
'Freedom?'
'Just by defeating him?'
'This is too good to be true!'
Though they were slaves, their inherent belligerence and their yearning for freedom were instantly set ablaze.
"However..."
Raylo's tone shifted.
"If all of you lose, you must swear a blood oath to me. From that moment on, you will pledge your absolute loyalty, becoming the sharpest spear and the most Solid shield in my hand. Anyone who shows a hint of betrayal will be killed without mercy!"
A blood oath!
This was the most sacred and severe of oaths among the Barbarian tribes. Once sworn, it meant offering one's very soul and loyalty to another.
The condition was undeniably harsh. But compared to an endless life of slavery, the allure of 'freedom for defeating him' was simply too great to resist.