The Rise Of Third Rate Villain-Chapter 15 - The Slave Market

"With a sigh, Valerian rattled out the window of the carriage along the town's paths as it gurgled through the town streets. Haaa... I have already spent already a week learning Valerian's memories. Still hard to believe I'm really in another world." He leaned his chin on his hand and saw the town spread out before him.

Streets lay distant from the garish cacophony of his old life - the blaring, the arguing going on all the time, the dirty streets full of refuse were far removed. Instead, clean stone streets stretched before him, bustling with people who, for the most part, looked happy.

"Not too shabby, to be honest with myself," Valerian mused while his gaze swept the scene. No doubt people still live in poverty. perhaps in an inaccessible unsafe part of the town. Can't escape that no matter where you go."

His gaze drifted to the townsfolk staring at the carriage as it rolled by. Those murmured, and those others stopped all they were doing to stare.

"Ah, right. Dumbass, did you forget who you are?" Valerian chuckled to himself. "I'm the only heir of the Thorne family. This carriage shouts it out loud enough with that huge crest fixed on the side. Plus, I guess Darius isn't exactly low-profile."

Whispers from the townspeople became louder in the background and his focus.

—

"Hey, did you see that carriage?" one man whispered to his companion. "That's the Thorne family's crest."

"It definitely is," his friend replied, eyes wide. However, I heard that Duke Aldric went to the capital to meet the king. What's that carriage doing here?"

A third person chimed in, lowering their voice. "You idiots forgot? There is, however, one other individual in the family who has complete control on the duke's behalf.

The first two exchanged glances, nodding. "Young Master Valerian..."

"The Frail Thorne..."

None of them dared to speak further, noticing Darius's cold gaze from his position on horseback. He held back his feelings, but the quick side-eye they cast in their direction was enough to send them scuttling off and resume their business. Even the adventurers nearby avoided his eyes.

—

Hey, Darius", Valerian said, from the carriage, a relaxed air in his voice. "How long until we reach the slave market?"

Darius turned his head, his usual bright smile on display. "Not much longer, young master. I'll have the coachman pick up the pace."

Valerian nodded, leaning back in his seat. "Sure, do that."

The carriage went on to pass through the town and eventually to a stately, luxurious structure. Being standing on the street was one of a short, plump, man with a large mustache, who was waiting impatiently. When the carriage came to a halt, Darius dismounted and opened the door. Valerian stepped out with the calmness and inscrutability of an old master, with an air of practiced exquisiteness.

The man bowed deeply. "An honor to meet you, Young Master Valerian. I am Varkas Draeven. I've been personally informed by Lord Aldric to attend to your every need.".

Valerian glanced at him, offering a small, polite smile. He extended his hand, shaking Varkas's firmly. "I appreciate your attention, Varkas. I trust you will provide the best service the market has to offer.".

The rumors... were wrong. This wasn't some weak, timid noble child. Standing before him was someone who exuded cold authority, his noble aura almost suffocating. "Is this really Valerian Thorne?" Varkas thought, his pulse quickening. "He's nothing like the rumors. No, this...this is Duke Aldric's blood at its full blast.

Varkas straightened, his face betraying nothing. "Of course, young master. Please, follow me."

—

Walking in the structure, hallway decorated with a valuable amount of tapestries and golden chandeliers hanging over their heads. It was opulent, but humble by comparison with the Thorne house. Varkas brought Valerian and Darius along the corridor to a large lounge.

"Please, have a seat." Varkas gestured to the velvet couches.

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Valerian sat with the familiarity of the person used to ruling the circle. Darius stood behind him, his expression unreadable, knowing his place.

A maid—or rather, a slave wearing a metal collar—entered quietly, setting down a tray of tea and sweets. She bowed and left without a word.

Varkas leaned forward. "So, young master, may I ask what type of slave you're looking for? We have... various kinds. Combat slaves, household slaves, pleasure slaves..."

Valerian took a sip of tea, not even flinching at the mention of pleasure slaves. "I'm looking for someone strong. Someone who can protect me."

Darius's eyes widened slightly at the unexpected request. His mind raced. "He wants someone to protect him? Does he not trust us? Or maybe... maybe he believes we're only loyal to Lord Aldric, not to him. ".

Varkas nodded thoughtfully. "I see. In that case, why don't I give you the room where we house our smartest/functional slaves? You can choose the one that suits your needs."

Valerian smirked. "Sounds perfect. Lead the way."

—

The chamber was dark and cold, lined with cages. Slaves stood behind bars like prisoners, their eyes hollow and lifeless. Valerian expressed his own face, but inside the mechanism of his stomach the gears kept whirring out of sync.

"Disgusting... How the hell is this even allowed? "

Varkas gestured at the rows of slaves. "These are all capable in combat, though... mostly humans. Likely debtors or criminals sold into slavery. If none of these is to your taste, lord, we can—.

Valerian raised a hand. "I expected more from you, Varkas. This... This is disappointing." He turned as if to leave.

Varkas's face paled. "W-Wait, young master! Please! Allow me to show you something more... exclusive. But I must warn you, these slaves are strong and more deadly than any other presently known. They are difficult to control and prone to rebellion."

Valerian's smirk deepened. "Dangerous, rebellious slaves, huh? Perfect. I'm, of course, addicted to finding out those who think themselves untameable, can be broken.

Varkas's eyes flickered with realization. He was dealing with a true noble—a predator in human skin. "Understood. This way, young master."

He beckoned to one of his escorts, and the latter opened up a heavy steel door. The air was thick and muggy there, in the hallway darkness felt impossible. Varkas took a torch from the wall and led through to the darkness.

The further they went, the darker it grew. Only the light from Varkas' torch illuminated the cave, creating dancing shadows on the celling.

Valerian followed closely, his footsteps echoing in the silence. His eyes gleamed with excitement.

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