Lately, I've been thinking… about the world and its affairs.

You see, the Eariel Continent is quite vast. It has over fifty thousand kingdoms, and thanks to my studies, I know the estimated population is over nine hundred billion. So many people live here, and they are incredibly diverse.

There are many races of humans living in Eariel, but only nine can be considered a majority.

The Nowe'arns, like me, are the most populous in this Continent. Then, we have the Fae'lkyns, the most looked down on and disenfranchised race. Other than them, there are the noble Syl'vaens, proud Drak'thirs, mysterious Umbr'ithens, oceanic Thal'marians, secluded Vey'lithars, primitive Kor'vynars, and savage Ny'therins.

Furthermore, several ancient races were once dominant in the history of this Continent, but have gone extinct. Only six remain relevant in the records.

With a Continent like this, which has millions of years of history, a lot has been lost to time.

In my past life, I never left the Randalorion Kingdom, so I never got to know, not to mention experience most of these things. I only ever met the Fael'kyn and a few Thal'marians, but that was about it. I only dwelled among my fellow Nowe'arns and vaguely heard of the others.

So many people… such a rich history… and yet….

'The world remains the same.' I sigh, inhaling deeply as I take a walk near the outskirts of a town I came across yesterday.

After dropping the Fae'lkyns off with their people, I decided to backtrack and return to my previous position before proceeding in the direction that the three runaways came from. It didn't take long before I arrived at a considerably large town.

I'm still not completely sure what it is I'm looking for here, but… a large town like this, close to the mountainside, usually means one of two things.

One is that there are many natural resources situated in the mountain range and the caves around, which have boosted the economy to accommodate such a crowd. The second, however, is far more sinister.

'This city thrives on the slave trade business of the Fael'kyn.'

As I walk to the outskirts of the town, with my hooded cloak covering my face while the growing darkness hides the rest of my features, I look around and spot a lot more people than expected.

Naturally, I also spot the chained individual behind them.

—Their slaves.

I sigh, witnessing the sight with a dull expression.

Owning slaves is normal in this world.

There are even categories of slaves which can mostly be split into two: Indentured Servitude and Complete Ownership.

In the case of the former, the Slave is in debt and will be in the Master's service until that debt is paid. However, such a Slave still has certain rights and cannot be truly said to be the Master's property. The Slave can also have possessions of their own, and once the debt is paid, the Slave becomes completely free.

However, for the latter… it means exactly what it sounds like.

Slaves under Complete Ownership are entirely the property of their Master. They have no rights, and they will possess such a status in perpetuity.

There is no reprieve, escape, or reward after decades of service.

Only a pitiful death awaits.

Knights live by the code of Chivalry, while the Clergy have deep spiritual practices that usually forbid the possession of slaves. This means, for the most part, we do not have slaves—especially the Complete Ownership kind.

Throughout my life, I have never possessed a single Slave under Complete Ownership.

It isn't simply due to the Chivalric Code, but also something else.

A… personal choice.

I believe a lot of the clergy also have their conscience guiding them, which is why such a religious standard was established, to begin with.

The ideal is that all men are free and should not be put in the servitude of others.

My philosophy is… a little different from that.

Removing my mind from these abstract thoughts, I glance around to spot the kinds of Slaves that the people of this town brandish like trinkets of sorts.

They're all Fae'lkyns, and, of course, they are Slaves under Complete Ownership.

Fae'lkyns possess the same features of a hairless body, innocent feminine appearances irrespective of gender, and pointy ears. Their eyes are usually bigger than normal, making them appear child-like no matter their age.

Also, since they don't have hair on their body, all of them—without exception—are bald.

With small shoulders, slim waists, and a delicate frame, these slaves are being dragged off to a theater on the outskirts of the town.

'That theater…' My eyes narrow mildly as my expression turns grim. '… Could it be—?'

It's late evening, and darkness is everyone's ally here, but it's like they aren't even trying to hide it anymore. They all march there like creatures of habit, with shameless expressions on their faces that cause a churning sensation to form within me.

My stomach twists, and I feel a terrible premonition of what is about to happen.

A part of me whispers and tells me to return, to leave the town and go on my way. The horrors I am about to witness and also participate in can all be avoided if I simply leave.

But—I remain.

I still don't know why I'm doing this, but I walk towards the theater and even pay the toll—a mere token, really—so I can enter. I initially thought I would have to come with a slave, but after seeing some people walk in without a slave in hand, I realized that not only slave owners could participate. My face is covered almost completely with my hooded cloak, but no one tells me to reveal my identity.

They don't search me either.

In fact, while it is rare in this place, I realize I'm not the only one hiding my identity.

No surprise there.

This is an illegal site, after all.

The guards all have masks, and all the ushers inside have veils hiding their faces.

It's even more surprising that so many people are being casual about this place, with many attendants not even bothering to hide their activities anymore.

'I guess the Lord that controls this territory approves of their act, so no law enforcement will disrupt their business. This place must contribute heavily to the economy of this town, so the law has chosen to turn a blind eye…' I reflect on all of these things as I proceed inside and observe my atmosphere with a chilling calmness.

I am directed to a seat among the general audience, which comes as no surprise to me since, without bringing a slave with me, I automatically registered as a non-participant.

For those who brought slaves, they would be placed at the forefront of the hall and be seated in the participant section. However, with the seats being elevated within the theater, there is no obstruction of sight regardless of seat placement.

I would like to say I made myself comfortable in my chair, but that would be a lie.

Instead, I shift uncomfortably while waiting for the event to begin—just so I can confirm my suspicions about this place.

A couple approaches my chair area and sits beside me.

They smile and giggle, and based on the small conversation I pick up from them, it seems this is only their first time meeting like this. What a twisted idea for a romantic first date…

After everyone settles down, the event officially begins.

All the Slaves that were checked in at the entrance of the Theater are led onto the stage, with a few staff acting as protocol officers. A female host wearing a seductive outfit comes to the center of the stage and addresses us, the audience, with a loud and cheerful voice.

"Welcome once again, to the most entertaining night of your lives!"

I silently wait.

I listen.

Part of me prays that this isn't what I think it is, but I calmly remain in place and remain stoic.

"As some of our frequent customers know, this place is known for its variety. We also love to please the audience, so we've prepared a list of activities which we will be presenting today. Best hope we can check all of them off the list! Oh, it's going to be a long and entertaining night, that's for sure!" The woman's voice booms excitedly, and she even licks her lips. "Now, without any further ado, let's get the list of events presented!"

And so, she brings out a scroll and reads out the 'activities' that are in store for the audience.

I… don't think I should mention all of them.

But, I will say this—

My suspicions have been confirmed. This place is indeed what I thought it was: A Slave-Pit.

This is a tragic, but rather popular, entertainment, where enslaved people are forced to perform degrading feats and engage in dangerous games in order to entertain the audience. The race usually placed in these Slave Pits are the Fae'lkyn, while Nowe'arns are the primary promoters as well as enjoyers of this barbaric practice.

The Theater usually has a set of Slaves it can use to entertain the audience, but to promote immersion, some people make slaves participate.

If their Slave performs well in the games, they get rewarded.

Usually, though, most of the slaves become grievously injured or even die in these games.

Yes… They die.

This is why it is an illegal practice in most Kingdoms. Even though the Fae'lkyn are deemed inferior, and Slaves under Complete Ownership have no rights, it is still a crime to engage in recreational activities that intentionally cause the loss of life—especially at such a large scale.

Unfortunately, Slave-Pits have become too popular.

They're also very lucrative.

As such, many towns such as this one indulge in it despite its illegality. With the Lord in full support of it, they don't even have to hide their commercial activities. They simply bribe the law enforcement and grant a portion of the proceeds to the Lord. The audience is entertained, and the owners of the establishment reap profit, hence everyone wins.

… Everyone except the Slaves.

'Those three who ran off came from this town. They must have witnessed a few incidents in the Slave-Pit, and must have seen their friends and family die…' My thoughts are drowned by the loud cheers from the audience as they witness the activities start.

The ongoing event involves Slaves fighting against fellow Slaves to the death. This is, by far, one of the tamest examples of what goes on in the Slave-Pit.

So much more… atrocities… happen here.

And I've had enough.

"Haa…" I rise to my feet slowly, and my usually calm body begins trembling uncontrollably.

"Hey, man… you good?" The man of the couple seated beside me asks with mild curiosity.

The girl right next to him also stares in concern.

"Hey, sit down already, boy! You're obstructing my view!" Someone yells at me from behind.

I turn and see an elderly man frowning at me.

He must be a regular here… considering how comfortable he looks in that chair.

He didn't even bother hiding his identity.

I sigh.

One of the ushers approaches our section and asks what the problem is, before proceeding to ask me if everything is fine. The consideration and care that she shows me is impeccable, as expected from a professional.

… From a fellow human being.

'If only you showed the same level of compassion to more people.'

SWOOSH!

In the blink of an eye, I draw my silver blade, slicing it through the air.

Blinding light fills the air, almost as if lightning just appeared in the theater's interior. Following the sound, thunderous roars echo from my blade, immediately sending shocking waves into everything in my vicinity.

Once the light dims and the world returns to deafening silence, everything around me looks different.

Usher before me has been beheaded.

The old man behind me… has been sliced into two, and the couple behind me… they're both dead now. They, and all the people around me, have been reduced to pieces of dead meat.

Indeed… I killed them.

I killed them all.

Due to the light show I displayed earlier, the event stops for a moment as everyone looks in my direction. They are all stunned, rendered entirely speechless by the sudden slaughter that I wrought around me.

But—

WHOOOSH!

—Before they are even able to scream, I leap away from my position and dash towards the main exit of the building. Once I secure it, I uncork the vials stored in the holster strapped around my waist and consume a few Potions.

All of this happens within a few seconds, not long enough for any form of meaningful resistance from the crowd.

Only when I am on my last Vial do I hear loud screams from the audience.

A stampede quickly forms, and the previously comfortable people who enjoyed the view from their seats now rush away, trying their best to run from the chaos.

It's too late, though.

Where do they want to run to? Will I let them?

"Ahh… I now understand why it is I came here." A small whisper leaves my lips as I stare at the hysterical crowd of people, and then shift my gaze to the stunned Slaves who have paused their performance and now look at me with puzzled gazes.

I came here as a feeble attempt to help those three Fae'lkyns and the rest of their civilization.

Even though I know I can't save them in the long run and can't make up for the suffering they have had to endure all this time, this is just a way for me to honor their lives.

Is it selfish and self-serving? Perhaps.

Maybe this is merely to ease my conscience and make it easier for me to move forward in life.

But I don't care.

I know I can't stop the slave tradition involving the Fae'lkyn.

I can't even do anything about it within my own Kingdom, not to mention the other 49,999.

I'm too weak… too powerless… too chained.

However, by doing this at the very least, I will be reducing the danger that those Fae'lkyn will face in the immediate future. I will ensure that at least one less Fae'lkyn will have to suffer as a result of the wickedness of my race.

Knights don't have slaves as a result of the Chivalric code of honor.

The Clergy don't have slaves as a result of their religious practices and unyielding belief in the equality of all men.

All life is sacred… all life is equal… all men are born free.

But I disagree.

My philosophy is starkly different from the Knights and Clerics, but it reflects the truth of this horrid, dark world.

"In this life… we are all slaves."

Everyone is a slave to something, which is why freedom—true, unrestrained freedom—is nothing but an ideal. No man can be truly free from everything.

Thus, we are limited in one way or another.

We are all slaves.

And, it is in the nature of slaves not to be able to own anything—not even fellow slaves.

As such, why do people own fellow people?

It should never be so.

Slaves own nothing.

People should never own others.

"For your crimes in the creation and participation of this atrocious set of activities banned by the laws of the Randalorion Kingdom as well as the Treaty of the Nine Races… I, Javier Aditi, will be meting out justice." With a loud shout, I declare this while brandishing my silver blade.

"Tonight, all of you present will die by my hand!"

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