A bitter wind howled through the eastern market of Frost Glaive City.
The air carried the rank smell of animal hides, the aroma of roasting meat, and the sharp clang of iron.
The stalls lining the street were crude, most consisting of nothing more than a canopy propped up on a few wooden poles, with goods laid out haphazardly beneath it.
This had originally been a small trading market where farmers and hunters occasionally came to barter for grain and everyday necessities.
But after the Northern Frontier Reclamation Edict was issued, numerous merchant associations caught the scent of gold and descended like hungry wolves.
They had transformed the little market into a bustling trade hub through sheer force of numbers.
At the easternmost end of the market, a rough wooden fence enclosed an open space where a group of ragged slaves stood.
Most huddled with their heads bowed, as though they had grown accustomed to being someone else's merchandise.
Occasionally, a few still wore angry looks, unwilling to submit.
But ten sharp cracks of a slave trader's whip would instantly extinguish every spark of resistance.
Although slave markets occupied a legal gray area within the empire, they were practically an open secret in the chaotic northern frontier.
Pioneering lords and smugglers alike knew what this place lacked most-manpower.
"Come and see! Young, strong laborers! Mining, logging, hauling bricks, picking cotton-they can do it all! They work harder than oxen!"
"These are prisoners of war from the Snow Kingdom! They aren't fully broken in yet, but they're cheap! Buy them and spend a few months training them, and I guarantee they'll obey!"
"Looking for smarter slaves? These ones can read and write! They can even manage your accounts.
Sales pitches rang out one after another as the slave traders expertly marketed their wares.
To them, there was no fundamental difference between the slaves before them and horses or other goods.
One slave trader noticed Louis and his companions. He immediately put on a fawning smile and stepped forward to greet them:
"My lords! Come take a look! These are the finest laborers in the northern frontier! Guaranteed hard workers who can withstand cold and hunger, all at truly affordable prices!"
The official accompanying Louis frowned and warned the slave trader, "This is Baron Calvin. Bear that in mind, and don't try anything underhanded."
"Of course not!" The slave trader waved his hands repeatedly, his smile growing even warmer. "I deal honestly with everyone, young and old, and my prices are perfectly fair.
Every slave I have is an excellent worker who can endure hardship. Farming, chopping wood, building houses, picking cotton-there's nothing they can't do!"
He swept out an arm, signaling for the slaves behind him to stand straight. Some straightened their backs reflexively, but more simply stood there, numb and lifeless.
"Look at these ones. Strong, sturdy young men, all of them! Each has the strength of two oxen!"
The slave trader walked over to several dark-skinned slaves and patted their shoulders:
"They may look thin, but they eat little and work hard! Give them a bite to eat, and they'll work for you until dark without a single complaint!"
At that point, he lowered his voice and gave a suggestive smile. "Of course, if my lord has other interests... we can also provide more exclusive merchandise.
From the south, fair-skinned and carefully trained. They're sure to satisfy you."
Louis's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. "No need."
Seeing this, the slave trader immediately resumed his professional smile and nodded repeatedly. "My lord is clearly a man of foresight.
With the northern frontier being developed, manpower is what's needed most. These farm slaves for rough labor are the most practical purchase.
Rest assured, my slaves aren't just hardworking, they're obedient too. They won't cause you any trouble!"
Louis surveyed the slaves before him.
Their clothes were worn, their skin pale, and many faces were etched with numbness.
Although the slave trader boasted that they were strong and capable,
most were actually malnourished. Some could barely remain standing on their weak legs.
Still, by the standards of slaves, their condition was indeed fairly good.
His gaze slowly passed over the crowd before finally settling on a small, thin boy.
The boy curled tightly in a woman's arms, his frail body trembling like a frightened little animal.
But in Louis's eyes, he was far more than an ordinary slave.
This was the target the system had identified: Vale, who had the potential to become a Peak Knight.
Looking at his timid appearance, no one could have imagined that this boy might one day become a Peak Knight capable of turning the tide of a war, had the intelligence system not pointed it out.
Elsewhere, in a corner of the crowd, a man even thinner than the others kept his head down and his back slightly hunched, as though he wanted to disappear among them completely.
His face was hidden behind disheveled gray hair. His gaze shifted uneasily, deliberately avoiding everyone else's eyes.
He looked utterly unremarkable, even more downtrodden than the other slaves.
An ordinary observer would have seen only a wretch tortured almost to the point of collapse.
But Louis knew that this was Silco, the alchemist's apprentice who had fled to the northern frontier after being hunted down for theft.
Sensing Louis's interest, the slave trader hurriedly thumped his chest in assurance. "My lord, buy them, and I guarantee you won't be disappointed!"
Louis did not rush to decide. Instead, he asked, "How much for one slave?"
"Eight silver coins for a man, four for a woman or child," the slave trader replied with a smile.
Louis nodded.
The prices were not low, but neither were they outrageous. It seemed the slave trader was wary of the official beside him and did not dare go too far.
"How many people do you have here?"
"Over three hundred and eighty. If you need more, my lord, I can bring in stock from elsewhere."
"These will do," Louis ordered decisively.
Afterward, he visited several other slave traders and purchased another 120 people.
In the end, he brought the total to 500 slaves, spending 380 gold coins altogether.
That single transaction alone reduced his assets by nearly half.
(Currency system: 10 iron coins = 1 copper coin, 10 copper coins = 1 silver coin, 10 silver coins = 1 gold coin)
Next, Louis bought large quantities of grain, seeds, farming tools, weapons, and other necessities for developing his fief.
Prices in the northern frontier were at least three times those in the south, putting an even greater strain on his finances.
Once all the purchases were complete, he counted his remaining funds. He had only 68 gold coins left.
Broke.
During those two days in Frost Glaive City, Louis had not only been busy purchasing supplies but had also met several noble lords who had likewise been sent to develop new territory.
After a brief acquaintance, he lost interest in these so-called nobles.
Some spent their days drunk in taverns to escape reality.
Others looked utterly defeated, wearing constant expressions of misery and despairing of the future.
In front of Louis, they cursed the emperor's incompetence and denounced their parents' heartlessness, wishing they could flee back south immediately.
Louis merely gave a noncommittal smile and stopped paying them any attention.
Two days later, outside the gates of Frost Glaive City, a procession of nearly a thousand people stood ready to depart.
Louis swung onto his horse and looked into the distance.
There lay the Red Tide Fief, his own territory.
"Move out!"
At his command, the great procession set off on its journey toward the Red Tide Fief in the southeastern northern frontier.
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