Chapter Five : Chains Beneath the Scales
The Next Morning
I woke early.
The sun had barely risen, painting the curtains with a faint golden hue.
And beside me—
Sasha.
She lay curled close, clutching the hem of my robe like a child. Her head rested on my arm, using it like a pillow. Her breaths were soft and even.
She looked… peaceful. Beautiful, in a quiet way. Innocent and safe.
I couldn't even remember how we'd ended up like this. I must've fallen asleep while working. I guess I was more exhausted than I thought.
But now, duty calls.
Carefully, I slipped my arm from beneath her, replacing it with a pillow to keep her resting comfortably. She stirred just a little, then settled back into sleep.
I cleaned up, dressed, and gathered the documents I'd need.
There's something important I need to take care of today.
*****
The morning market was quieter than usual—maybe because of the early hour.
I made my way to the meeting spot: a small, unassuming tavern tucked in a narrow alley. Inside, at the far end, a hooded man sat alone. His face was hidden, but I knew he was the one.
I sat across from him.
"Good morning, boss," he greeted without lifting his hood.
"Morning," I replied, signaling for two breakfasts.
When the food arrived, I kept my tone light. "Is everything going smoothly over there?"
"Yes, boss. Just as you predicted." He handed me a folder.
I scanned through the contents. "Hmm. Good results. Keep it up."
"Thank you, boss." His eyes curved behind the hood—genuine pride.
We finished the meal quietly. Not much else needed to be said.
Once done, I passed him a set of documents and a pouch heavy with Bari gold—the currency of Britannia, far more valuable than most.
"Tell everyone to enjoy a little of it—and to stay sharp."
"Yes, boss. Much appreciated." He left swiftly.
I paid and stepped out, but my stomach still growled. Maybe the food hadn't been enough.
...Let's head back. Maybe I'll eat with Sasha.
Taking a different route for security, I passed by the Blackwater Slave Market. I hadn't planned to stop, but a strange presence washed over me like a ripple in my mana field.
It wasn't hostile. But it was… powerful.
I stepped inside, cautious and alert.
"Welcome, dear customer," a greasy voice chirped. The slave trader waddled forward with his stubby limbs and swollen gut. He looked more pig than man.
Disgusting.
"I'm here to buy a slave," I said flatly.
"Wonderful! What kind? Worker? Sex? Torture? Or... disposal?" His grin was vile.
This bastard… I wanted to gut him where he stood, but revealing myself would be a mistake.
"I'll look first."
"Yes, of course! This way." He led me deeper, wobbling ahead like a toad in heat.
The air grew heavy with rot. The cages held barely living husks—starved, sickly, broken. They clung to life with fading strength.
But then—
There it was.
The pressure.
I couldn't see the source, but it was here, close. I moved deeper.
A cloth-covered cage drew my eye.
"Ah—dear customer, that one's not for sale," the trader tried to warn.
I ignored him and pulled back the cloth.
White skin. Long ears.
An elf, by all appearances.
But no… I surged mana to my eyes—Insight. A technique I'd mastered last year to see mana signatures. I couldn't maintain it long—maybe 15 seconds at most.
But I didn't need even that.
What I saw wasn't elven.
It was something much worse.
A dragonkin.
Not just any. A high-grade one. Her horns aren't visible. As far as I know, if a dragons horn are broken or aren't visible even with mana than they are called banished dragons or exiled ones. She must be a banished dragon.
Even without visible horns, she retained her polymorph form—something only elite dragons could do. Her body was malnourished, but the sheer weight of her suppressed mana was terrifying.
A creature like this… if the dragon clans found out she was here, abandoned and sold in chains, the world might burn.
I couldn't allow anyone else to get their hands on her.
"How much is she?"
The trader flinched. "Sir, she's not for sale…"
"I didn't ask that." My voice dropped, cold. "I asked how much."
His face twisted nervously. "...Twelve hundred Bari gold, sir."
He expected me to balk at the price.
But instead, I pulled out a black-pleated card from the National Bank.
His eyes widened in horror and awe. Only high nobility and royalty had the privilege to carry one of these cards.
"S-Sir! Please, right this way! A seat—someone bring a seat!"
"No need. Just finish the transaction."
"Yes, of course!"
I placed my mana into the card and stamped the contract. The ink flared blue—the deal was sealed. If he tried to alter it, the contract would evaporate, leaving him with nothing.
"Get her cleaned, dressed. Feed her properly." I tossed in more coins. "She's not going anywhere until she can stand."
"Right away, sir! Of course, sir!"
As I turned to leave, the trader bowed grotesquely.
"Please come again, sir!"
I didn't respond.
As if I'd ever return to this cesspool.
Men like him shouldn't be allowed to cage monsters they don't understand.
That girl... that dragon...
She could swallow kingdoms whole.
And now... she's in my care.