"Dimitri, what is going on? What was the purpose of that half-naked woman calling them slaves?"
Alyon thought Arrogant, Savage, and Reckless were General Alina's subordinates, but after the words of the woman commanding the Golden Leaf Guild army, he was confused. They themselves ruled the orcs with an iron fist, whatever they said had to be done, but they had never used the term 'slave' when referring to others.
"Great Orc Chief Alyon, the answer to what you ask goes back to a tradition on the lands of the Mercenaries' Lodge."
The answer brought a new question with it, and Dimitri was a smart enough merchant to understand what his guests meant from their gazes.
"The Mercenaries' Lodge is ruled by the four major merchant guilds, everyone knows this, but most people are unaware of the struggle inside these guilds. A merchant guild is formed by the coming together of more than one faction, the small groups under them, and ultimately the merchant families. These powers, from the smallest to the largest, are in a constant race, struggle, and literal war.
Sometimes only commercial power balances change, sometimes financial resources change hands, and not uncommonly, it is a declaration that the end of the road has been reached for some families. The Guild keeps the only child of the families whose everything is taken by their rival for itself, without giving them to anyone else.
Do not perceive this as an act of mercy or a sense of loyalty developing towards a family that had contributed to it; this would be the greatest evil you could do to the poor children. When the struggle is over, a result is obtained one way or another, and what's done is done. The Guild doesn't want blood feuds passed from generation to generation, but it also doesn't miss the opportunity to make a profit, and it puts into effect a practice not seen even on the Orc Steppes or the Wild Swamp continent."
Dimitri stopped right here; he examined the latest condition of his guests, wanting to give them time to digest what he told in a single breath and place them somewhere in their heads. It was obvious there was no need to keep the break long, they were all listening to him with rapt attention, but Bookworm especially looked like he had severed his connection with the whole world.
"The children, who lose everyone and everything they have known up to that age, are gathered in a facility near the Golden City. Then they are shoved into cells only high enough for a ten-year-old child to stand, and the hell on earth begins from that moment on.
They don't get hurt physically; their food is plentiful, they always have their drinks, but that body no longer belongs to them. They are the property of the Merchant Guilds; the self inside the flesh, the soul, or whatever you call it, needs to be destroyed, and the brutes called Bipolars are assigned to do this.
These people, whom I cannot call human, start working on the morning of the children's first night entering the facility. They treat them so well during that day that the poor children think their lives aren't actually that bad, but when night falls, things change completely.
That friendly, loving person, who instills hope in them when they think everything is over, goes away, and a demon escaped from hell takes their place. The Bipolars, who don't hesitate to apply whatever comes or doesn't come to your mind on little children, become wingless angels again when the sun rises.
This cycle is followed by various trainings. The child is classified according to their talent, aptitude, and physical appearance, and is pushed until they reach the highest value they can fetch. It doesn't matter if they turn into a strong warrior, a sex toy, or a mount to be ridden; the facility bends them until they make them fetch the best price, but never breaks them."
What Dimitri told weren't things that could be easily swallowed. Despite seeing so much on his native continent and while liberating the Wild Swamp continent, Alyon's face had turned pale as a sheet. He had mostly witnessed physical abuse before, he had resistance to this, but the moment he empathized with the children destroyed from within, a dark energy descended upon him like a nightmare.
"Even if there are some casualties, the final product is ready for sale in two years at the latest, and the right of first purchase is given to the families who put them in this situation. The families, who catch the chance to buy the children of their commercial or political rivals as slaves, don't want to leave this to anyone else, because they cannot allow even a small chance of revenge to arise.
Knowing this, the Merchant Guilds also make the sale at an exorbitant price, and manage to be the only ones making a profit at the end of the struggles taking place inside them. Sometimes you ask me in passing, 'Dimitri, how old are you, you still haven't gotten married, why don't you think about starting a family?', I guess you now know the reason for this!"
An ice-cold wind blew on the walls of the castle belonging to the Balsici Family. The people who had voiced these words a few times bowed their heads. Perhaps they had said it just for the sake of talking, but what they did without knowing the reasons of the person across from them was no different from skewering him with hot iron.
"There are a few people who managed to escape these facilities, even if very rarely, right, Master Dimitri?"
Sasha, having turned into a tough young man, came to the rescue where words failed, and the dark clouds descending upon the eastern walls were dispersing just a little bit.
"Yes, there are. There are lucky children, whose numbers wouldn't exceed the fingers of two hands, who were taken out of the facilities by making great sacrifices and paying equally great prices!"
Bookworm didn't expect such a dialogue to take place after what was told; it wasn't hard to guess that the relationship between the master and apprentice was much deeper than it seemed. The Balsici family had secrets they kept to themselves, and this was neither the place nor the time to question them, for the three people who couldn't manage to escape the facilities in time were currently trying to take the lives of their warriors.
It had only taken a minute for Dimitri to tell the whole story, but the three orc warriors looked as if they had been fighting for days. They were pushed to their limits by Reckless, Arrogant, and Savage, who revealed their true colors in a period of sixty breaths; one step behind this was called death.
Pehlivan was the one relatively in the best condition, followed by the Leader of the Nameless Ten, but the metal armor of Hammerstriker, who had a kinship tie with those watching the battle on the walls, had turned into a tin can. While the spear took a piece away every time it touched, sometimes landing the blow in the same spot, it took his flesh along with it.
Alyon's son-in-law had slowed down compared to before while swinging his heavy sword, and this weakness caused him to not even be able to protect himself while in a defensive stance, let alone make an attack. Ever since Arrogant heard what General Alina said, he had cast aside that former nonchalant attitude of his, pushing the speed-increasing feature of his boots to its limits, trying to finish off his enemy.
"Son, this isn't going to work. If your brother-in-law dies here, I won't have the face to tell anything to your sister or my grandchild. I am going down!"
Among the excuses he didn't mention was that he was Ironforger's son, and Alyon, putting one foot on the battlement of the wall this time, truly showed his seriousness.
"Dad, if Hammerstriker dies here, he dies with his honor like an orc. In the heart of the orc society, his memory will always be remembered with pride. If you go down now and save him, maybe he'll live, but will he have the courage to look his compatriots, his wife, his child in the face ever again?"
Bookworm was telling the truth; if he went down, that was when he would truly kill Hammerstriker. Upon these words, Alyon perhaps didn't pull his foot back, but he also gave up on taking action. His son-in-law and his former master's son was completely alone one step away from death, or so the others just thought.