Night fell, its inky veil spreading across the city like a shroud, cloaking the streets in shadow. It was the perfect time for anyone with a scheme to set their plans into motion. After securing a modest inn room for each one of them, leaving Lysandra and Ivar to rest, Jasper motioned for Azm to follow him. The flickering light of a lone lantern cast long, dancing shadows on the walls as they moved through the inn's narrow hallway.
"Azm, follow me," Jasper whispered, his voice low and urgent. "We are going to find your wife tonight, and we will act at dawn."
Azm nodded, his towering frame looming in the cramped space. Jasper wanted to offer a reassuring pat on the shoulder, but the barbarian's height made it impossible. Instead, he clenched his fist and tapped Azm's chest lightly, a gesture of solidarity.
They stepped out into the cool night air, the city's streets stretching before them in search of a clue. Jasper led the way, his eyes scanning the darkened alleys and crumbling buildings. They were searching for the most wretched, forgotten corners of the city—places where desperation clung to the walls like moss.
When Jasper noticed a group of shadowy figures huddled around a flickering fire in a lifeless street, he halted. The faint glow of the flames illuminated their rough, weathered faces, and the air was thick with the scent of smoke and decay.
"Hey, Azm, look," Jasper murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Do you see those people? I want you to ask them to find your wife. Give them all the details about her and the slaver. Also, give them two bronze coins and tell them that if they find her, you'll give them three more. But threaten them—if they dare take the money and run, you'll skin them alive."
Azm raised a brow, his expression a mix of skepticism and curiosity. "Are they reliable?"
"Don't worry," Jasper replied with a sly grin. "These people would throw themselves off a cliff for a single copper coin. If she's really here, it won't take them more than two candle-burns of time (two hours). They'll gather all their comrades to start the search. Just stay here until they find her, then come back to the inn."
Jasper yawned, stretching his arms as he turned to leave. He was eager to steal a few hours of sleep before the chaos of dawn.
Azm approached the group of ragged figures, his massive frame casting a long, ominous shadow over them. The thug-like bunch, sitting around the fire, heard his heavy footsteps and sprang to their feet, knives glinting in their hands. But the moment they saw the towering barbarian, their bravado evaporated. Some pretended they were just playing, others hid quickly, and a few stood frozen, their hands trembling.
Azm stopped in front of them, his piercing gaze sweeping over the group. He stared in silence for a few seconds, the tension thickening like fog. Finally, he spoke, his voice deep and commanding. "Hey, you! Where's your leader?"
The gang hesitated before turning to a wiry man with a scar running down his cheek. The man blinked,
looking back at them with a shocked expression. "Since when am I the leader, you bastards?"
The barbarian stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. He extended his hand, and the scarred man shrank back, fear etched across his face. But when Azm opened his hand to reveal two bronze coins, the man's eyes widened, and he straightened up, a glimmer of hope replacing his fear.
"I want you to do something for me," Azm said, his tone leaving no room for refusal.
"Anything for you, sir," the man stammered, his voice trembling.
"There's a slaver named Edward. He's hiding a woman named Arinas. She's about this tall." Azm gripped one of the gang members' head, his large hand covering the man's face. The man's legs went weak, and he struggled to stay upright.
"She has long, black, wavy hair. She's quite fit, with light honey-colored skin and brown eyes. You have until dawn to find her. If you do, you'll get another three bronze coins. Deal?"
"Deal," the man croaked, his voice barely audible. "But, sir, what happens if we don't find her?"
Azm didn't answer. He just smirked, a chilling expression that sent shivers down their spines. It was enough to send them all scrambling into the night, their fear of the barbarian outweighing their love for money. The street was soon empty, with only Azm standing alone, the fire's dying embers casting a faint glow on his face. He sat down, his massive frame dwarfing the makeshift seat, and waited for good news.
As the gang dispersed into the night, they began to question their own capabilities.
"Boss, can we really find her? I'm afraid that barbarian will skin us alive if we don't. What if she's not in this city? Will he retaliate against us?" one of the gang members asked, his voice trembling with fear.
"Shut your mouth, you fool! Get to work! It's our end if we don't find her. Call all the boys and have them search every nook and cranny. Leave no place unchecked, even if it's a noble's mansion, anything and anyone related to that **** slaver," the boss barked, smacking his subordinate on the head.
A candle-burn later, the boss came running back, dragging a young boy with him. The barbarian watched as they approached, panting heavily, their faces flushed with exertion.
"So?" Azm asked, his voice calm but laced with anticipation.
"Sir, this boy knows where she is. A woman matching the description you gave us," the boss gasped, trying to catch his breath.
"You're not playing tricks on me, are you?" Azm's eyes narrowed, his gaze piercing.
"I wouldn't dare, sir. I even brought the boy who saw her," the boss replied, pushing the young boy forward.
"Hey, kid, are you sure you saw Arinas? Her description isn't unique. You could find a million women matching that description," Azm said, his tone skeptical but hopeful.
"I'm sure, sir. Edward is new here. He rented a basement to store a single woman matching that description. But let me tell you, it's heavily guarded. There are five people watching over it," the boy said, his voice steady despite the barbarian's intimidating presence.
The barbarian laughed loudly, his laughter echoing through the empty streets like thunder.
"Good job, kid. Here's the rest of the deal. Treat this boy well—he's my lifesaver," Azm said, tossing the promised coins to the boss.
"Heh, absolutely, sir. After all, he's my lifesaver too," the boss replied, his relief evident.
At dawn, the roosters began crowing, their sharp cries piercing the morning air and signaling the start of a new day. The city slowly came to life as peasants began their farming routines, merchants set up their stalls, and the streets filled with the hum of activity. Azm stood at the head of Jasper's bed, his imposing figure casting a shadow over the sleeping man. Unable to wait any longer, Azm coughed loudly, jolting Jasper awake.
"What's the problem, Azm? Is it dawn already?" Jasper mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
"Yes, it is. I waited for you to wake up, but I couldn't wait any longer. For a moment, I considered invading their hideout and taking her back myself, but I wanted to trust you. I feared my rashness might lead to her death," Azm admitted, his voice heavy with emotion.
Jasper yawned, stretching his arms. "You've really changed my perspective on barbarians. Don't worry, I'll do my best to ensure she's safe and sound."
Azm nodded.
"Bring the others to the wagon. I'll explain the plan," Jasper said, his tone firm but tinged with urgency.
The barbarian quickly woke Ivar and Lysandra, instructing them to meet at the wagon as soon as possible. When they joined Azm and Jasper in the wagon, confusion was evident on their faces.
"What's going on, Master?" Ivar asked, his brow furrowed.
"We're going to stir up some trouble today. Follow my orders carefully," Jasper replied, his voice calm but commanding. "First, Lysandra and Ivar, I'll be giving you 5 silver, I want you to buy clothes for Lysandra—something that will help her hide her face and identity. Then, she'll go to an apothecary to buy some herbs. I need you to make a poison."
Lysandra spoke firmly, her voice steady. "Let me be clear, Master. I won't help in killing people."
"Don't worry. I don't want a deadly poison. I need something that will incapacitate someone for at least a year. And who's it for? Some scum who ruin other people's lives," Jasper explained, his tone reassuring.
"And what about me, do I only escort her, Master?" Ivar asked, his confusion growing.
"After escorting Lysandra to the clothing shop, come back quickly. You'll help me because our wagon is going to be half-destroyed," Jasper said, a mischievous glint in his eye.
Ivar was baffled. "What?"
"Azm is going to destroy this wagon and stage a rebellion against me. He'll go to save his wife, while you'll escort me to that cunning slaver. And Lysandra, I hope you don't take this opportunity to escape. It's common for a slave to run, but while I don't consider you slaves, others do," Jasper said, his gaze shifting to Lysandra.
Lysandra remained silent, her expression unreadable.
"Finally, Azm, I hope you don't forget about me," Jasper said, removing his hood. Everyone was shocked by his appearance. Even goblins seemed beautiful in comparison. They felt as if a monster was about to prey on them.
Jasper's gaze fell on them, and they couldn't hold his stare for more than a second. They thought he might be a monster disguised as a human.
"Yeah, that's to be expected. Of course, you won't forget a face like this. Don't mind what I said," Jasper said, his tone tinged with sadness as he pulled his hood back up. The prejudice of others was deeply rooted and hard to overcome.
Azm took a deep breath, his expression softening. "This is the first time I've been this shocked. I'm sorry." punching himself "You're my savior and my brother. From today onward, your enemy is my enemy. I am Azm, son of Akisol, from the Taniri Clan, your eternal ally. If you ever come by the clan, tell them my name, and they'll help you with whatever you need." Azm confessed, holding Jasper in a tight embrace. Jasper, who had been alone his whole life, couldn't help but cry silently. Tears of joy, which he thought were gone forever, filled his eyes.
Both Ivar and Lysandra felt ashamed of their earlier reaction and joined Azm in a group hug. After regaining his composure, Jasper initiated the start of their plan.
"Now, let's show those ugly merchants how a true ugly merchant acts."
After Lysandra and Ivar left for a short while, Azm began destroying the wagon. Jasper shouted, pleading for mercy. It wasn't a perfect act, but the sheer force of Azm's destruction was enough to convince anyone. People came running at the commotion, but when they saw the barbarian in a berserk state, no one dared to step forward. All they could do was listen to Jasper's pleas for mercy. After reducing the once-sturdy carriage to a scrap heap, Azm took one of the nearby horses and left.
The people rushed to Jasper. "Are you okay, young man?"
"How can I be okay after all that? That slaver, Edward, tricked me into buying a barbarian for 100 gold coins, guaranteeing he was as tame as a lamb. Now look what happened—my wagon is destroyed, and I nearly got myself killed."
From afar, Ivar came running and shouting, "What happened, Master?"
"Now you show up, you fool! I nearly got killed by that barbarian, and you were off relieving yourself!"
The people kept staring at Ivar with disgusting gazes.
"Tsk, I hate this kind of slaves. He deserves to be whipped until you're satisfied," one of the onlookers said, shifting the blame to Ivar. Though it pained him to hear, Ivar knew it was all part of the plan.
"This isn't the time for that. I need to get my money back from that trickster. Will anyone come with me as a witness?"
They hesitated, making excuses.
"Don't worry, I won't take your time for free. Anyone who comes with me as a witness will get a silver coin for their trouble." Their eyes lit up at the offer.
"That trickster has to pay for his shameful deeds!"
"Yeah, we can't allow such things in our city!"
Ivar helped Jasper, who pretended to struggle to move, and they headed straight for the slave market.
"I'm sorry you had to hear those words, Ivar."
With a smile, Ivar replied, "It's a small price compared to you losing someone as strong as Azm."
"It's the opposite, Ivar. I've won him over."
Edward, happily sorting his slaves, had no idea what disaster was coming his way. Singing and dancing, he saw a crowd approaching and thought his luck had turned. But then, the shouts of complaint filled his ears.
"That's the trickster!" they shouted.
"What's going on?" Edward asked, noticing Jasper. "What's wrong, good sir? Is there a problem? Why are they calling me a trickster? There must be some misunderstanding."
"Why do you think so? The barbarian you sold me went berserk, destroyed my wagon, nearly killed me, and stole my most precious and expensive horse."
"What?! That's impossible! He would never dare do such a thing. Without proof, what you say is just hearsay."
"He who has no witness is a liar, and I have nine of them here."
"Yeah, you cheater! Your actions nearly cost someone their life!" one of the crowd shouted.
"Yeah! If you don't compensate him, you're doomed!"
The slaver found himself cornered. If he didn't comply, he'd lose his reputation and so his business. In a panic, he remembered the barbarian's wife and tried to run to the basement to check on her. He ordered his men to follow, but Jasper and the others blocked his path.
"Compensate the man first! There's no escape!" the men shouted angrily.
"Okay, okay! How much do you need?" Edward asked, his emotions a mix of anxiety and fear.
Jasper took his time calculating. "The price of the barbarian was 100 gold. It should be doubled, No! Tripled—I'm being generous since he almost killed me. And, well, he destroyed my wagon and took my precious horse…"
"JUST TELL ME HOW MUCH YOU NEED, YOU ****!" Edward exploded in rage.
"Wow, no need to be so aggressive. The wagon is 15 gold, and the horse is well-trained, strong, and young, so that's 90 gold. All in all, 405 gold, and we're done."
Appraising a warhorse is challenging, as prices can reach 150 gold for those trained by former knight-breeders. Horses from regular breeders typically range from 10 to 100 gold, depending on the breeder's reputation. Peasants, even with horses of comparable quality, are often overlooked. This is how Jasper executed his trick, inflating the value of his so-called "precious" horse from 5 silver to an astonishing 90 gold. It was a ludicrous price, but no one dared dispute him.
Edward, in no state to argue, ordered his subordinate to compensate Jasper and then rushed off like the wind toward the basement. His fear fogged his judgment.
A smirk spread across Jasper's face. His actions were the best remedy for those who treated others' lives as nothing. After receiving his compensation and paying the witnesses, they returned to the inn, where Lysandra waited, her face hidden under a hood.
She removed the hood, revealing her face and new outfit, which left them all flustered.
"Ahem, did you get what I asked for?" Jasper inquired.
"Yes, I'll prepare it whenever you need.
"You can start now—"
"Massacre! It's a barbarian!" A shout interrupted him, and people began running in all directions. The city wasn't large, so any major event drew crowds.
Jasper and the others ran toward the commotion, only to find Azm covered in blood.