Chapter 5: Three Hundred

The gazes of the entire venue turned toward her.

“Three hundred. Is that correct?”

The auctioneer, who had been visibly thrilled by the sudden jump in price, tried to calm his pounding chest and asked again.

The numbers called out in this kind of auction house referred to gold coins. And a single gold coin was enough for a commoner family to live comfortably for a whole month—with money to spare.

It might be different for a woman with striking looks, but even then, the starting price of twenty gold coins for a single male s*ave was excessive.

No matter how much he had once been a Holy Knight, the very pride of the Supreme God, he had already been dismissed on charges of heresy.

Moreover, just as people in the venue had said earlier, his entire body had been covered in restraint patterns to prevent any unforeseen incidents. He could barely move.

If he could resist—if he had any fight left in him—it might have been a different story. But in his current state, the man couldn’t even be used as a knight, a guard, or anything similar.

At best, he was a novelty item, something a rich pervert might buy just for the thrill of owning a fallen legend.

So the crowd’s attention quickly shifted to the bidder—Bel.

And what they saw confused them.

Bel wore the cleanest, most decent-looking outfit she could scavenge from the slavers’ stash.

But how good could the wardrobe of a gang of all-male thieves really be?

Her clean face and arrogant bearing went a long way in covering up the shabbiness, but she still didn’t look like someone who could casually throw around 300 gold coins.

Who the hell is she?

Don’t recognize that face.

In this shady establishment, people usually avoided showing their faces. But those who revealed themselves openly—like Bel—were usually one of two types: either nobles with absolute power or infamous figures from the underworld.

To them, Bel’s face was unfamiliar, her presence foreign.

All the more so because she was strikingly beautiful.

But whatever they were thinking, Bel calmly scanned the faces staring back at her.

They really look unappetizing.

Just as they were judging her, Bel was judging them.

She had a reason for being interested in the s*ave they said used to be a knight.

Even with his lifeless eyes, he was still more appetizing than the rest of this rotten crowd.

In a word, he had the aptitude.

The aptitude of a summoner.

A human who, if filled with strong enough will, could summon her—and make a wish.

To put it simply, he looked delicious.

“Ma’am? Three hundred… are you sure you bid that?”

“Yes.”

Once she’d raised the bid, there was no going back.

Still, the amount was so enormous that the auctioneer stalled for time, asking again—just in case she was bluffing.

The crowd, which hadn’t even noticed her until a moment ago, began whispering among themselves while stealing glances at her.

Some even thought it would’ve been better if Bel had been auctioned off as a product instead.

Especially the man who had put the s*ave up for auction—he couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from curling upward.

And from the shadows, he began to discreetly post his men around her.

If Bel actually paid that amount, it was a jackpot.

If she couldn’t pay, it was even better.

According to this auction house’s rules, the seller would gain the right to detain the nonpaying bidder.

Which was exactly what the auctioneer hoped for.

It was also what the spectators secretly wished for:

To see a haughty, beautiful woman fall into slavery.

This was the kind of place built entirely on such base, disgusting desires.

And Bel didn’t look strong.

She didn’t even have an escort.

“Three hundred! The current price is three hundred! Any more bids?”

In a place like this, shill bidders were usually planted in the audience.

But at this price?

No one wanted to risk getting stuck with the bill if Bel backed out.

So the room fell silent.

“The former Holy Knight of Lucilonia has been sold for 300 gold coins! Congratulations, madam!”

Since this wasn’t a legal auction, there were no official procedures.

The s*ave’s original owner simply dragged the product off the stage and jumped down.

The man—until just a moment ago an auction item—was pulled forward by a leash.

As if the restraint patterns weren’t enough, his body was also bound in chains.

He looked like a disobedient hunting dog being dragged to heel.

“But for what purpose did you offer such a generous price for this fellow?”

The seller, approaching Bel’s seat, handed over the leash and spoke with a slimy grin plastered across his face.

“Ah.”

Bel replied nonchalantly.

“He looked delicious, so I thought I’d have a taste.”

Whistles echoed across the room.

They’d asked the question with the intention of prompting a sleazy answer.

And Bel had delivered—at least in their eyes.

They took her words as sexual innuendo, exactly as they’d hoped.

But they had no idea what she actually meant.

At the sound of their whistles, the newly purchased s*ave’s jaw twitched. A vein popped for a second and then vanished.

He was humiliated—furious, even—but couldn’t fight back due to the restraints.

Hoo…

A glint appeared in Bel’s eyes—an eerie light that hadn’t been there before.

Despite everything, his eyes were alive.

Full of rage. Full of will.

She liked that.

It meant he still had strength.

As Bel unconsciously licked her lips while staring at the s*ave, the slaver—giggling with a perverted expression—began rubbing his palms together and tried to cozy up to her.

“You have a good eye, madam! This one hasn’t been touched by anyone else yet. But he’s been properly trained, so you’ll be very satisfied. However… there is one thing you could help me with.”

He pointed toward a reception room set up in a more secluded part of the cave.

“Three hundred is quite a large amount… so could you come this way? We’ll draw up a contract.”

“Alright.”

No matter how seedy the place, nobles still expected to be treated like honored guests. Even if the auction was held in a cave, there was at least a reception room for appearances.

But that reception room didn’t only serve one purpose.

“Let’s go.”

Bel followed him without hesitation, tugging the leash along.

The s*ave followed, neck stiff, grinding his teeth.

“Now, for the next item! This time, a beautiful and obedient…!”

On stage, the next form of entertainment was already underway. The crowd, who had just moments ago jeered and whistled at Bel and the knight, had already moved on.

This was a place where vulgarity escalated quickly. A fallen knight and his arrogant new master couldn’t hold their attention for long.

Behind them, laughter and catcalls erupted as the clothes of the next s*ave were stripped away and mocking commentary rained down.

Bel, uninterested in such depravity, kept her gaze fixed forward and walked without hesitation.

But the knight being dragged along behind her sensed something.

He glanced back.

“…”

Three or four men were following them like shadows.

The Holy Empire of Lucilonia.

A nation where apostles who upheld the honor of the Supreme God Luxlon, and the priests and holy knights who served them, were praised and revered as much as nobles.

The Valkite family had once been one of the Holy Empire’s most esteemed bloodlines—holy knights who wielded their swords under the banner of divine justice.

But that was ten years ago.

The Valkite family, hungry for the absolute power no knight should seek, betrayed Luxlon and pledged allegiance to a foreign god.

That betrayal became the justification for Lucilonia’s purge.

Not only the Valkites, but the families close to them, were stripped of honor and cast down.

Still, the people praised Lucilonia’s mercy, saying the Empire had torn away Valkite’s hypocrisy and restored true justice.

The proud Valkite knights, their noses once pointed high, were erased from history.

And this s*ave—this fallen man—was once called Lema Valkite.

The second son of that disgraced family.

While his parents and older brothers chose suicide or were executed, Lema somehow survived, clinging to life with the desperation of a dog cornered by fire.

‘Live.’

‘You, at least, must live—and restore our family’s honor.’

Those were the final words of his brother, who died protecting him while fleeing from Luxlon’s apostles.

Before Lema could follow them into death, he was captured.

He couldn’t even take his own life—not after that.

But the life of a s*ave was far more humiliating than death.

He hadn’t officially become a Holy Knight, but he’d trained to be one. Dying in a gladiator arena would’ve been a more dignified end.

Instead, thanks to his unfortunately attractive appearance, many tried to break him in for other uses.

And now, this strange new master had bought him—claimed she would “eat” him—reigniting the shame he had fought so hard to suppress.

But he held it in.

Because this woman, as absurd as she was, seemed to be digging her own grave.

No guards. No knights. No sign of wealth or backing. No awareness of the danger she was in.

How is she so confident?

Lema was so baffled that he felt his tension slipping.

She was walking into a trap—a worse one than his. Yet she didn’t even seem to notice.

And so, almost like an accusation, he asked:

“What are you trying to do now? Why did you buy me?”