'Yes, Lord Cole!' Garin clenches his fist; only poverty had driven him to guard this greedy slaver.
'Move faster, back there!' Garin shouts.
At Garin's order the escorts quickened their pace, jolting the wagons so violently that the women in the cages were shaken until they ached.
A few cried out in pain; the clamor grated on Cole's nerves and he roared at the cages behind him, "Shut it! One more squeak and I'll toss you to the wolves—your tender flesh is exactly what those beasts crave."
Cole's threat silenced the cage at once; the women huddled in corners, trembling.
Pleased with the terror he'd inspired, Cole lounged on the wagon and contentedly popped grapes into his mouth.
Inside the cage every girl bowed her head, faces ashen, their future a blank of misery. Too timid to take their own lives, they clung to a fragile hope—that some hero might yet appear and snatch them from this living hell.
In the center wagon sat a pair of adorable sisters. The elder, Illustrious, was six—long white hair tied with white ribbons, sapphire eyes, a delicate face touched with premature maturity, her tiny frame wrapped in tattered hemp.
Her sister Aircraft Carrier, also six, had slipped into the world minutes later; thus she remained the younger twin.
Aircraft Carrier's ruby eyes and lustrous white hair—gathered in a side-tail—belonged to a frail body that broke into coughing fits, betraying constant illness.
"Cough… Big sis, I'm starving."
"Hungry, Aircraft Carrier? I saved a steamed bun—take it."
The guards handed out one bun per woman thrice daily. Illustrious had hidden hers from the last meal; she knew her sister's appetite all too well.
As Aircraft Carrier reached out, a purple-haired girl snatched the bun away. Meeting their startled stares, she sneered, "What are you looking at? Your father bought a life peerage with coin; mine is hereditary. You lowborn trash can't compare."
The girl, Lena, came from the same town. She despised commoners, and though Illustrious's father now bore the title of baron, he had risen from merchant stock by gold—no bloodline to boast of.
In Lena's eyes that made the sisters gutter-rats, no matter their father's present rank.
Each encounter twisted Lena's stomach: common born, yet their hair silkier, skin fairer, faces prettier—why should such trash outshine her?
She vented her spite by smearing their clothes, scrawling on their cheeks, even pummeling them—anything to prop her own noble ego.
The sisters never told their father; his caravan had been ransacked by goblins, the family coffers drained by the purchased title. They would not add to his grief.
Yet for all her vanished status, Lena was now merely another captive being sold to slavers—her pride the only thing left intact.
Illustrious glared at the slave who still acted grand. "You're no longer a baron's daughter—what are you flaunting? Give the bun back to my sister—now!"
She lunged to seize it, but Lena kicked her squarely in the chest, slamming her to the floor.
Aircraft Carrier darted to Illustrious's side. "Sis, don't! I'm not hungry—please stop fighting."
"Cough… don't worry, Aircraft Carrier, I'm fine," Illustrious whispered.
Lena sneered down at them. "So what? Even stripped of title I'm stronger than you failures who couldn't awaken a class. I'm a warrior—level eight already."
"Naming yourselves Illustrious and Aircraft Carrier—did your parents fancy you'd rival the creation goddess or the Aircraft Carrier demon god? Pathetic. You two are insults to those great names; if I were you I'd die of shame."
Clutching her bruised ribs, Illustrious rose, eyes blazing. "Return that bun or you'll regret it."
She hurled herself at Lena again, small fists clenched in stubborn fury.
"Still begging for death? Fine—I'll oblige." Lena lifted her hand; faint mana crackled as she cocked her fist.
Even that thin mana doubled her arm's strength—more than enough to crush a six-year-old slip of a girl.
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