The world of Aethelgard was one of cruel beauty, a land of soaring, crystalline mountains and verdant valleys, a land also shackled by the brutal institution of human bondage.
For centuries, the kingdom of Veridia had thrived on the backs of the enslaved, their prosperity built on the misery of countless souls. The lords and ladies of the court, dressed in silks and jewels, viewed their human chattel as mere extensions of their wealth, to be bought, sold, and traded like livestock.
This was the world that a man named Kael stumbled upon.
Kael was not a man of noble birth, nor was he a warrior of great renown.
He was a scholar from a distant land, his journey to Aethelgard driven by a quest for forgotten knowledge. He was a man who believed in the inherent worth of every individual,
a principle that was a radical, almost heretical, concept in this kingdom. When he arrived in Veridia, the sight of the slave markets, the auction blocks, and the chains that bound men, women, and children filled him with a cold, righteous fury.
He could not, would not, stand by and watch this atrocity continue.
Through a stroke of cunning and a surprising display of political acumen,
Kael managed to gain the ear of the young, impressionable King Alaric. Kael, with his impassioned pleas and logical arguments, painted a picture of a society that could rise to a new height,
a society not built on the exploitation of others, but on the freedom and dignity of all. His words, though initially met with skepticism and derision from the court,
resonated with the king, who, in his heart, harbored a deep-seated unease about the kingdom's foundation.
In a move that sent shockwaves through the kingdom, King Alaric, under Kael's counsel, issued the Decree of Emancipation. Slavery was banned, and all who had been held in bondage were declared free. The reaction was immediate and violent.
The slave-owning class, the powerful and wealthy Slaver-Traders, were enraged. They saw their fortunes, their very way of life, being torn away from them.
But Kael, in his wisdom, had anticipated this. He proposed a new system, a radical, almost insane, solution that would satisfy the demands of justice while simultaneously dismantling the very power structure that had allowed slavery to flourish.
He called it the "System of Retributional Trading." The Slaver-Traders, the very people who had bought and sold human lives, would now become the commodity.
It was a cruel irony, a mirror held up to their own heinous actions.
The Slaver-Traders were stripped of their land and their wealth, and their former slaves were given the freedom they had been denied. The Slaver-Traders themselves were now the ones to be traded. Kael, in his cold, calculating logic, established a new market, one where the value of a Slaver-Trader was determined by a series of factors.
A chilling whisper ran through the market: "The whiter the trader, the better the value." It was a twisted parody of the very system they had created, where the fair-skinned, the 'pure-blooded' masters, were now the most sought-after commodities.
The trading of Slaver-Traders became a grim spectacle, a new form of commerce that swept through Veridia. They were treated like mere objects, their worth debated and haggled over. Just like rare Pokémon cards,
as the common saying went, they were collected, exchanged, and hoarded by the very people they had once enslaved.
It was a brutal form of poetic justice, a public humiliation that stripped them of their power and their humanity.
But the system didn't stop there. Kael, in his relentless pursuit of a just world, introduced the "Slaver Fights."
These were not mere spectacles of violence, but a new, horrifying form of combat. In these fights, the Slaver-Traders themselves did not physically engage.
Instead, they would "fight" by "using their slaves."
The arena was a grim stage, a place where the psychological and emotional scars of a brutal history were put on display.
Two Slaver-Traders would stand opposite each other, and their former slaves, now free, but still bearing the marks of their past, would be brought out. The Slaver-Traders would issue commands,
orders that mimicked the cruel tasks they had once forced upon them.
A former master might command his former slave to perform a grueling feat of strength, or to endure a test of pain.
The slaves, though free, were bound by an unspoken, deeply ingrained fear and a sense of duty that still lingered.
They would perform the tasks, their faces a mask of stoic endurance, while their former masters watched
, their faces a mixture of desperation and perverse pleasure.
The rules were simple and brutal.
The trader whose slave performed the best, or endured the most, won.
The victor would take possession of the defeated trader's slaves.
The Slaver-Traders who lost, who were left with no slaves to command, were cast out, stripped of their last vestiges of power and dignity. These were the "popopapa."
The term, a nonsensical word that had no meaning, was a a cruel joke, a name that was spat out with contempt and ridicule.
These "popopapa" were the lowest of the low, a new underclass in a society that had turned its back on them. But Kael, in his relentless,
almost fanatical pursuit of justice, had one last, terrible plan for them.
The "popopapa" were forced to fight in arenas all over the kingdom. These were not the Slaver Fights, but a different kind of spectacle.
The "popopapa" would enter the arena, not to command, but to fight and to dance.
It was a bizarre and horrifying fusion of combat and performance. They would engage in brutal, no-holds-barred brawls,
their faces a mask of pain and desperation. But in the midst of the chaos, they would be forced to dance.
A bell would ring, and the fighters, bloodied and bruised, would be forced to break into a frantic, mocking jig, their movements a parody of joy.
The arenas were packed with people who had once been enslaved, their faces a mix of triumph, disgust, and a deep-seated, unsettling catharsis.
They watched as their former masters, the ones who had held them in chains, were reduced to a state of utter humiliation and degradation.
It was a grim, brutal form of entertainment, a public display of vengeance that was both satisfying and deeply disturbing.
The world of Veridia had changed, but it had not necessarily become a better place.
The chains were gone, but a new form of cruelty had taken their place.
Kael, the man who had sought to bring justice to the world, had succeeded in his mission,
but in doing so, he had unleashed a dark and twisted form of retribution. He had created a new system, one that,
while it had freed the enslaved, had ensnared the enslavers in a cycle of humiliation and violence.
As he stood on the balcony of his new palace, Kael watched the "popopapa" dance in the arena below.
Their movements were a blur of pain and forced gaiety, a haunting spectacle that was both a testament to his success and a grim reminder of the darkness that lay within the heart of man.
The world was free, but at what cost? Kael, the liberator, had become a creator of a new, horrifying form of justice, and as he watched the dancers below,
he felt a cold, unsettling chill. He had won, but the victory was a hollow one. The scars of the past had not been healed,
but merely transferred, a new set of wounds inflicted upon a different set of victims
. The dance of the "popopapa" was a testament to his legacy, a brutal, honest, and terrifying display of the new world he had created.
It was a world of justice, but it was also a world of unending, brutal retribution.
A silent voice echoed throughout the world
The voice of the king
His thoughts could be heard clearly.
" Now i have become Despair
The very Despair that I fought "
~`The very injustice he fought to destroy
Devoured him whole`~
Art of war-The sin of gluttony