Chapter 33 : The Price of Hesitation

The Price of Hesitation

After sorting out her thoughts, Serea's gaze once again fell on the battlefield where both sides were locked in a stalemate.

Lola's chest was heaving slightly due to anger, her eyes fixed fiercely on Dohr—wishing she could just swallow him whole.

"Queen, quickly lead our people to escape from here... Don't worry about us..."

"Vina!"

Lola's anger had clouded her judgment of the battle. Looking at her clansmen held hostage by Dohr, she didn't know what orders to give.

"Drop your weapons!"

Dohr continued to threaten, but Lola didn't yield easily; she knew those hypocritical humans would charge at the first opportunity if their weapons were dropped. At that point, her entire clan would be doomed.

That was the outcome Lola least wanted—not just for the sake of the clan, but for the bloodline within her own body.

To protect the bloodline within her, the previous generation's Elf King led the Darkmoon Clan across half a continent, sacrificing a thousand elite members just to escape to this place. If the clan's last hope was destroyed...

At this thought, a trace of determination flashed in Lola's eyes.

The blood within her was the last hope of the Darkmoon Clan, the final chance for her people and the forest elves. Even if only for the future of the clan, for the thousand who had sacrificed themselves, she had to keep the flames of hope alive!

Escape!

With her plan decided, Lola quietly began gathering the power of nature.

With only herself and six clan guards left, they could never defeat the human party of over twenty people.

So rather than continuing to be held back and dooming the whole village, she would—as before—escape for the sake of the clan's hope.

"I'm sorry!"

Hardening her heart, Lola cast one last look at her captured clansmen.

"Queen, leave this place!"

"Shut up!"

The humans silenced the loudly shouting elf, and Lola made her final decision.

But during her long hesitation, a crow had quietly landed on the branch near her. Blinded with rage, Lola had not noticed its presence.

Seeing the crow near Lola, a sinister smile curved Dohr's lips.

"Caw caw caw!"

The crow screeched—a shrill cry that seemed able to pierce eardrums. Lola and the assembled elves immediately clutched their ears, as did the nearby humans, all of whom wore pained expressions.

Now's the time!

A black shadow darted out—Dohr, who had been waiting for this, rushed forward. He had stuffed his ears with rags beforehand, so was only minimally affected.

"Ugh... Protect the Queen!"

Caught off guard by the sudden attack, the elf guards tried to block Dohr.

Heavy Slash!

But Dohr was ready—his greatsword gleamed silver as, confronting the onrushing elf, he sent him flying with a single swing.

"Argh!"

"Doruka!"

Seeing her comrade badly wounded and tossed aside, Lola cried out in shock, wanting to cast magic immediately—but a cold blade was already at her throat.

The crow's call ceased, and it burst apart in a flurry of feathers.

Upon seeing this, Dohr felt a pang of regret—he had spent 50 gold coins on that magic scroll, a grade-two Summon Magic!

But after his moment of heartache, Dohr turned to the Lola he'd captured; with his blade pressed to her neck, she could not cast her final spell.

Seeing he'd seized the elven queen, Dohr grinned. He knew now he could recoup the money spent on the scroll—and even make a handsome profit.

"Queen!"

Seeing their queen taken hostage by the humans, the recovering elf guards gathered around.

"Nobody move, or she dies!"

Dohr shouted, and instantly all the remaining elf guards froze. Fearing for their queen's safety, they dared not attack rashly.

"Drop your weapons!"

Dohr threatened the elves with Lola's life; hearing this, the elf guards exchanged looks, torn as to what to do.

Their queen was their lifeline, the leader on whom their race's survival depended. Now, with the queen captured, Dohr's order left no room for resistance.

With gritted teeth, the elves all threw down their weapons. Seeing this, Dohr waved his hand.

"Capture them all!"

At his command, the remaining twenty-four human soldiers sprang into action, ignoring their own injured and charging straight at the now-surrendered elves.

After subduing the elves, Dohr lowered his greatsword, then gripped Lola's neck with one hand.

"Queen of the elves, thank you for your kindness. As a reward, I'll set your price a little higher."

Lola glared at him but dared not resist, letting Dohr restrain her as he wished.

Seeing the elven queen grinding her teeth in helpless fury while under his control, Dohr's lecherous gaze slid downward.

But in the end, he did not go any further. A pure elf could fetch a much higher price—ruining her just for his own pleasure would be unwise.

Better to take her back, exchange her for gold, then enjoy himself at Big Sister Mary's place.

With that thought, Dohr sheathed his dagger. His men stepped forward, binding Lola with ropes, and thus the last thirty-nine elves of the Darkmoon Clan were all under his control.

Thirty-nine!

Even at the lowest price... uh... let's see... anyway, that's a lot of gold coins—a fortune he'd never spend in a lifetime!

With that money, he could buy a fief, leave behind the slave-trading life, and live as a peaceful little lord.

Then he could marry a few wives, have some sons, and perpetuate his own noble lineage.

The very thought made him a little giddy...

But just as Dohr was lost in his fantasies, a voice snapped him back to reality.

"Boss, there are two humans over there."

"Humans?"

Alerted by his subordinate, Dohr glanced over and saw Serea and Celia standing on a vine staircase not far away.

Looking up at a thirty-degree angle, Dohr's gaze immediately locked onto the black-clad girl.

So beautiful!

At first glance, Dohr was entranced—his gaze seemed glued to Serea.

As the most beautiful woman in the Otto Kingdom, Serea certainly had the looks to live up to the reputation.

But though Dohr was a lecher, he wasn't the type to be blinded by every pretty face.

Encountering two humans here, in elf territory, struck him as odd.

"This is elf territory; why are there humans here?"

"We could just ask them."

With that, Dohr called across to the two girls.

"There are actually two beautiful ladies here. Forgive me for asking, but what brings you both to this place?"

Dohr's attention focused on Serea; when he asked his question, Serea did not reply. She was assessing the enemy's fighting strength.

The opponents were mostly warriors. After the recent clash with the elves, there were twenty-four of them left.

Twenty-four, all not too high in level—most hovering around level 10—a bit stronger than the mercenaries she had encountered previously.

Noticing Serea's silence, Dohr continued to appraise them. As a slave trader, he was skilled at judging people. After a few more glances, he began to probe.

"If I'm not mistaken, you young ladies aren't from the Ailera Empire, are you?"

"Hm? You can tell?"

Serea asked curiously, glancing at Celia. Compared to Dohr, the two girls did have some subtle differences in features.

"Of course I can."

Dohr replied, the corners of his lips curling up.

After scrutinizing Serea and Celia again, he silently set their prices in his mind.

Four hundred gold coins and three hundred gold coins—these were the conservative estimates.

The former for Serea, the latter for Celia. While human slaves weren't usually expensive, with their looks and figures, these two were definitely worth the price.

Why did he immediately think of this...

Indeed! Upon hearing they weren't from the Ailera Empire, Dohr immediately labeled the two girls as slaves.

Would that be a crime...?

Heh. It wasn't the first time he'd done this. As long as he caught them and forced them to sign a slave contract, as a slave trader, he wouldn't be breaking the law—in fact, he'd be protected by Ailera Empire's law.

Such extra profit—why not take it? And before selling them, he could enjoy himself with them first; since they'd be human slaves, it didn't matter.

Having made up his mind, Dohr stared intently at the two girls, muttering inwardly:

Don't blame me for this—blame your bad timing.

(To be continued...)

-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=