Became the Unjust Contract Slave of the Archamage’s Book

The guards subtly maneuvered through the crowd, surrounding Binaeril and Inyakan in a wide circle. Both men noticed but chose not to reveal their awareness just yet.

“Now that we’ve got the money, shall we head out?” Binaeril suggested.

“Sounds good to me,” Inyakan agreed.

As they moved to leave the gambling den, the guards emerged from the crowd, blocking their path. Binaeril addressed the men standing in their way.

“What’s this about?”

“If you’ve won money here, you should pay a ‘fee’ before you go. That’s just common courtesy,” one guard said.

“A fee?” Binaeril repeated.

“Yeah. Since you won so much money in our establishment, you should show some appreciation for our efforts.”

“And how much is this fee?”

“We take half of your winnings.”

It was an outrageous demand. Inyakan let out a scoff. The men posing as guards were hardly worthy of the title. They weren’t properly armed, carrying only small daggers and crude knuckles. While they might be able to handle drunkards or angry gamblers, they were ill-prepared to face a mage.

Binaeril raised his chin defiantly and smirked. This was an opportunity to test his new abilities after recovering from the fever. As he began to gather his magical energy, Inyakan placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Why now?” Binaeril asked.

“If you use magic to beat them up after winning money through magical trickery, they’ll catch on to your cheating.”

He had a point. If Binaeril could subdue them using only his enhanced physical abilities without revealing his magic, it would be fine. Binaeril had been about to use magic without much thought.

“Let me handle this,” Inyakan said.

Binaeril stepped back, watching as Inyakan faced the guards. The presence of the large man made the guards visibly falter.

“And who might you be?” one of the guards asked.

“I’m with him.”

The guards, who had been so bold in front of Binaeril, now shrank before Inyakan’s imposing figure.

“What did you say earlier? Go ahead, repeat it,” Inyakan demanded.

The guards looked at each other, hesitating. Eventually, the one who had first spoken was pushed forward by the others to speak again.

“If you win money, you should pay us a few…”

“A few coins? Ha! Are your eyes just for show? You saw exactly how much money we won, and now you’re changing your story from asking for half to just a few coins.”

“Well, that’s…”

The guard, hesitant, looked back at his comrades standing firmly behind him. This was their turf. They couldn’t let one bulky customer do as he pleased. The other guards were already fingering their weapons, ready to teach the big guy a lesson.

Inyakan was well aware of the atmosphere. He knew how quickly these thugs could read each other’s cues.

“If you don’t want to get beaten and robbed of your medical expenses, just get lost. You’re a bunch of cowards who can’t even muster the courage to fight even when you’re in a group.”

The so-called guards, essentially local thugs masquerading as security, were like hyenas. Alone, they wouldn’t dare start a fight, but in a pack, it was a different story. This was their establishment, and backing down here would likely mean losing their “legal” fees from other customers as well. Even though Inyakan’s arm was as thick as their thighs, they thought numbers would prevail.

“You won’t listen to reason, huh? Just hand over the money and get lost…”

Before the guard could finish, Inyakan’s fist connected with his face. The guard’s head snapped back at an impossible angle, and he collapsed into a heap in the corner.

“You bastard…!”

“You want to fight?”

Seeing their comrade taken down, the remaining guards grabbed their weapons and prepared to charge. Inyakan was unfazed; he had faced armed mercenaries without flinching. These low-level thugs were nothing compared to them, and he was confident he could fold each one in half as they came at him.

Just as the fight was about to break out, a man burst through the crowd and stood between them.

“Hold on, gentlemen! Hold on a moment!”

The man was adorned with various jewels. He signaled the guards to tend to their fallen comrade and stand down. Reluctantly, and with a hint of relief, the guards obeyed. It was clear this newcomer was in charge.

The manager hurriedly apologized to Inyakan.

“Sir, I apologize. It seems my men made a mistake.”

“And who are you?”

“I am the manager of this gambling den. I apologize for the misconduct of our security. Please accept my apologies.”

He bowed his head, evidently fearing a physical confrontation.

“I have a proposal as an apology…”

“You better not be using fancy words to ask for money. If you are, I’ll make you end up like that guy over there,” Inyakan threatened, cracking his knuckles. It was hard to tell who was the aggressor and who was the victim at this point. The manager wiped the sweat from his brow and forced a smile.

“No, it’s not that kind of proposal.”

Binaeril, realizing the conversation needed to be steered back on track, stepped forward. “Let’s hear it.”

The manager rubbed his hands together. “I see you’ve had a bit of luck tonight.”

“Usually, we do take a small fee from big winners…”

Inyakan leaned closer, and the manager quickly corrected himself.

“Of course, not from everyone! Especially not from gentlemen like yourselves. So, I have a suggestion. How would you like to visit a ‘special auction’ meant for distinguished guests?”

“A special auction?”

“Yes. It’s a place for gentlemen like you to enjoy. You might find some interesting items there.”

The manager was inviting them to a special auction. Following his guidance, they entered a tiered seating area surrounding a stage. It seemed like an old theater, repurposed with walls and lighting for the auction.

When Binaeril and Inyakan arrived, the auction was already in progress. The seats were sparsely occupied, mostly by people wearing silk or velvet, their faces hidden behind masks to maintain anonymity. Binaeril and Inyakan took seats in the top row.

The primary items up for auction were slaves, quite different from the sickly and malnourished ones they’d seen in the black market. These were young, healthy, and vibrant.

Binaeril glanced at Inyakan, who appeared indifferent, arms crossed and watching the proceedings with a detached expression.

“The next item starts at one Florin gold coin. Any bidders?” the auctioneer called.

A man in the front row raised two fingers.

“Two coins! We have two Florin coins. Any other bids?”

The auctioneer scanned the audience, encouraging more participation.

“Sold to the gentleman for two Florin coins!” The auctioneer struck the gavel, signaling the end of the bid.

The beautiful young girl was sold to the man in the front row, and a muscular male slave was won by a woman in a revealing dress. Each buyer picked their desired “goods” based on their tastes.

“It’s painful to watch,” Binaeril muttered.

“Isn’t this just one of your civilized collection activities? What’s so uncomfortable about it?” Inyakan replied.

“Not everyone enjoys these auctions. And you’ve been referring to ‘civilized people’ as if you aren’t one yourself. Why is that?”

“…I’m different.”

Given his background as a thief, Binaeril found it hard to fully trust Inyakan’s words. 

The auction’s structure was simple: the current item was displayed center stage, while the next item was shown on the side. The current auction item was a slave of a different race, and next up was a young boy.

“Tsk.”

Binaeril clicked his tongue in disapproval upon seeing the boy. He was pale, thin but with defined muscles. A gag was in his mouth, and his limbs were bound, suggesting he had been restrained after causing trouble. Blood crusted around his mouth, and dried tear stains marked his cheeks. However, his eyes still burned with fierce resentment. Even while being dragged by the guards, he glared murderously at everyone.

“A child, too…”

Binaeril sighed softly. The boy’s blue eyes and snow-white hair indicated he wasn’t from the Empire. Such unique features likely meant he was being sold at a special price.

As the auctioneer sold off a woman and moved the boy to center stage, the next item—a familiar leather pouch—was brought out.

Binaeril’s plan was to use the money he had won at the gambling den to reclaim his pouch and quietly leave the Count’s territory.

“Don’t be surprised, folks! This boy hails from the distant northern land of Babaroa!” the auctioneer announced.

“Inyakan, my pouch is up next,” Binaeril said.

“This boy would be a unique delight for any refined lady! We’ll start the bidding at three Florin gold coins!”

“Let’s bid for my pouch and get out of this unpleasant place,” Binaeril nudged Inyakan with his elbow, but received no response. Binaeril leaned over to look at Inyakan’s face.

“Didn’t you hear me?”

Seeing Inyakan’s expression, Binaeril was startled. Inyakan’s eyes were fixed on the boy, filled with an intensity Binaeril hadn’t seen before. 

His fists were trembling. The eye not covered by the eyepatch was bloodshot, and the skin around his tightly pressed lips was pale from the pressure. Veins bulged on his smooth scalp.

“Inyakan, are you angry?”

Though they hadn’t known each other long, Binaeril had never seen Inyakan this furious. The Inyakan he remembered was a rough-and-tumble thief, uncouth, quicker to use his fists than his words, and prone to handling everything with violence and anger. But this was different.

“These… damned… civilized bastards…!” Inyakan muttered through gritted teeth.

Binaeril had a gut feeling that Inyakan was about to do something drastic. Inyakan sprang to his feet with such force that the wooden bench creaked and splintered under the strain. The sudden noise drew everyone’s attention to the top row of the audience.

From Inyakan’s lips came words in a language Binaeril had never heard before.

“ISH KSHTAL YA!”

No one understood what he was saying—except the barbarian boy on the stage. The boy, bound and gagged, responded with muffled sounds.

“Mmff, mmff!”

“GRRRRYA!!”

This shout was less a word and more a primal roar, a threat, or a curse. Despite Binaeril’s desperate gestures for him to calm down, Inyakan continued, his voice shaking with rage, filling the auction hall with his furious outcry.

“You damned civilized scum, a warrior of the Inya tribe will tear you apart!!!”