Chapter 2: Witch

Farra shifted his gaze to the figure inside the cage.

Like the other slaves, there was nothing special about her: filthy golden hair, a crude rag draped over her body, curled up in the corner.

Yet she neither battered the bars in anger nor sat there in lifeless despair like a broken toy.

Instead, she tucked herself quietly in the corner of the cage as though dozing.

‘…Interesting.’

That appraisal rose again in Farra’s mind; he curled his lips and tapped the cage lightly with a finger.

…

Two seconds later, the little bundle inside opened her eyes and stared straight at Farra outside.

Her eyes were calm, cold, and indifferent, as if she were looking at a lifeless object, not a man.

Farra had seen that look before.

It was the same gaze worn by the few soldiers captured after losing on the battlefield.

They would seize one last chance to strike back, and if it failed, they would end their own lives without hesitation.

Such people were firm and resolute inside, with their own convictions and resolve, fundamentally different from those who entered the war without knowing why.

Farra met her eyes with interest for a few seconds, then asked, “Want to get out?”

…

The girl seemed utterly uninterested in Farra and closed her eyes again.

Seeing this, Farra lowered his voice once more and said, “… little witch.”

The moment she heard those two words, the girl inside snapped her eyes open like a lion locking onto prey and fixed them on Farra’s pupils.

Such clear killing intent.

Farra clicked his tongue.

He had seen that look of wanting to kill him countless times on the battlefield.

Unfortunately for them, every time he was the one who killed the other side.

There had never been an exception.

Otherwise he wouldn’t be standing here now.

“…How did you know?” the girl asked hoarsely.

“I wasn’t sure before, but now I am”, Farra replied with a smile.

…The girl furrowed her brow fiercely, and her urge to kill Farra swelled even more.

Witch.

A special type of individual among humans.

They possessed special Strength comparable to certain other races.

In every human nation they were deemed an absolute taboo.

Once discovered, regardless of country or region, they were captured and executed, and everyone connected to them was executed as well to prevent the ‘calamity from spreading.’

“So, little witch, you wouldn’t want word of you hiding here to leak out and draw a church hunting party, would you?”

“…Are you threatening me?” the girl replied coldly.

At the same time, Farra felt the surrounding air thicken in an instant.

The air that had been light now grew markedly heavy.

With his keen senses he perceived something unseen rapidly converging.

‘You’re threatening a witch?’ The girl eyed Farra as if he were an idiot.

Why were witches called witches?

Because they were far too extraordinary.

And that extraordinariness could not be replicated.

In his spare time Farra had read a little material and, thinking like a transmigrator, could easily deduce why the church strove to eradicate witches.

A single witch could defeat 10 or even 20 fully armed soldiers… tremendously strong.

Yet that power could not be duplicated.

“Do you know where we are?” Farra asked unhurriedly.

…

This is Jestanis, the royal capital of the Nosbaro Kingdom.

As Farra’s words fell, the thick air around them instantly returned to normal.

Farra’s eyes grew more intrigued as he said, “Looks like you’re not that stupid… much more mature than others your age.”

“…What exactly do you want?” The girl glared at Farra with intense disgust.

She had never imagined that she, hiding so well here, would be discovered out of the blue.

Fate, as always, refused to favor her.

“I asked you just now… do you want to come out?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll just have to sell the news that you’re a witch… worth several silver coins.”

“You son of a…!”

Why is this man so disgusting?

Just like those despicable, shameless merchants.

A casual word or two was enough to rile someone up.

Seeing the fury blazing in her eyes, Farra chuckled. “Ah, don’t be mad… how scary. I’m so afraid you’ll kill me right here and then get burned in the central square of the royal city.”

…

‘Why does this guy deserve a beating so badly?’

Seeing those lion-cub eyes, Farra was about to speak again when he heard approaching footsteps.

He had to revert to a nonchalant demeanor at once.

“Sir, your invoice is ready; would you take a look?”

The old man handed over a sheet of paper.

“Hmm… no issues, but the price is 10% higher, isn’t it?”

After a casual glance, Farra pointed at the final total and asked.

“Sir, our prices here are absolutely never higher than the market rate.”

The old man did not answer directly but replied with a beaming sideways comment.

…

Farra thought for a moment and then realized that the kingdom’s foreign war had just ended.

“The king had conscripted many slaves as frontline fodder and to fill labor shortages everywhere, causing fluctuations in slave market prices.”

That made sense.

“Even so, prices shouldn’t rise like this; does your supply have anything to do with the market at all?”

“Er, well, I don’t think it’s related either, but my boss thinks it is; I’m just a humble receptionist and don’t understand such matters.”

Farra stared at him for a while, snorted with a frosty face, and then said, “I’ll be doing more business with you in the future, and this way of welcoming customers really spoils the mood.”

“Er, about the price, I really can’t decide…” The old man broke into a cold sweat, unwilling to lose this big client, and quickly said, “How about you pick two more, free of charge, as a gesture? May the Lord God witness our friendship…”

…Farra fell silent again for a moment and then replied reluctantly, “Fine. If I come again and you hike the price by another 10%, I’ll just find another channel.”

“Absolutely not, absolutely not! If you ever need a large order again, we’re your best choice! Anywhere within the kingdom, no matter the delivery point, we can get it to you… few others can offer that service,” the old man hurriedly said.

“I hope so,” Farra replied offhandedly, then pointed at three cages on the left. “Those three look pleasing enough… perfect to take back and do odd jobs for me.”

The old man glanced at the slaves in those cages… three women and one small figure. Their value depended on the buyer; some gentlemen liked this type, others did not, and unlike slaves that yielded direct returns, they were perfect as freebies.

With that thought, the old man immediately put on a hearty air and said, “All right, no problem… We always do business with sincerity, sir. Shall we send these three along as well?”

“Send those two together; release this one for me,” Farra said, pointing at the tiny figure.

Very well.

The old man took the key ring from his waist, searched for quite a while, and finally found the right key to open the cage.

“Out you go. From now on this Lord is your master.”

He tugged the chain and dragged her out of the cage.

Glancing at the shackles on the Witch’s wrists and ankles, Farra said, “Remove all the cuffs and fetters.”

“As you command, sir,” the old man flattered him, then searched for the keys again and unlocked all the restraints.

Seeing this, Farra leisurely fished out a few silver coins. “Deliver the surplus to the drop-off point as well.”

“… At your command, sir,” the old man said respectfully as he accepted the coins.