The slave traders across from him showed no fear of a mage who could cast ninth-level spells. Instead, they laughed and taunted him. "Only a mage of the good alignment would stick his nose into other people's business."
"The men who came along on this ship are going to make a fortune! One look at him and you can tell he's a wealthy scholar!"
"Heh. Look how worried he is about those elves. Bet he's an elf too. Wonder if he's good-looking? If he's a beauty, we can seal his magic and send him to Selûne. Someone there will pay a fortune for him."
"Don't forget, the mine owners on Selûne spend a lot more freely than those rich ladies. Elves are all soft-skinned pretty boys.
"He'll fetch a great price."
Their faces were full of mockery, as though they could capture Hill with ease and sell him as a slave.
If not for their rigid bodies and trembling hands, their smug faces might have convinced someone they were confident.
If they thought they could rattle Hill this way, they were dreaming.
Hill kept walking toward the slave ship. He needed to get close enough to hold it fast. If it escaped into the air, even he would have to work to catch a ship built entirely for speed.
The number of silver orbs slowly grew. Hill knew the man trying to aim at him with magic was probably on the verge of breaking down.
The slave ship's captain still had not appeared. None of his four giant ballistae could lock onto Hill, and no amount of magic could change that.
Without their ballistae, what were they?
Hill maintained a constant gravity field around himself. After all, he had been able to use gravity spells even when his level was