Chapter 1 Slave
Everyone envied them; The Chosen.
I mean imagine how it'd feel to be handpicked by a group of envoys claiming to represent Immortals from a higher realm. Right?
I also happened to envy them, that is until I was made aware of that one fact; my mother has about a decade left to live.
I am young, smart, hard-working, rich, and most of all; filial.
I wanted to use my resources to secure my mother a few more years of life till I found her a cure, but the envoys came knocking the day after, congratulating me for my luck and fortune.
After like five minutes of petrification under the eyes of those near-perfect human beings, I finally realized how much I regretted enlisting as a chosen candidate. Alas, it was already too late, and they didn't care how I felt.
At least, they allowed me to finish up this letter.
Mother, it was never my intention to abandon you.
Mother, I promise I'll make it back within 10 years.
I know you've heard similar words from a man you once loved but never came back, a family you once cherished but never came knocking, and now a son you've sacrificed the world for but might…
Let's not be pessimistic, look at the bright side.
Your son is now one of The Chosen. Your son might grow into an Immortal, and then make an Immortal out of you. By the time you wake up and our android reads this letter for you, I'd have long ascended to the Realms of Immortals.
Wait for my news, Mother.
Yours truly; Leonardo.
…
The Interstellar Supreme Court governs the ascension of mortals into the Kingdoms of Immortals on a daily basis. Countless candidates of all races file into the establishment from all across the universe in the lower dimensions for a chance at empowering themselves, and their families, or leaving behind a legacy that extends for many generations to come.
Planet Earth's yearly quota of 196 candidates was scheduled for today, and the branch office of the ISC was holding an auction to delegate these young talents to the mortals' slaves market, as usual.
A massive hall vast enough to host an audience of thousands of people bustled with discussion over the upcoming and new candidates from the lower dimensions. These representatives that come from organizations, major families, royalties, and even individually rich and resourceful immortals are in the trend to buy mortal slaves.
Among the crowd in the VIP chamber on the second floor, an old man and a young heroic lady stood in a dignified posture. Although the occupants of the VIP chamber kept their distance from the pair, it didn't contribute to their distinct, overwhelming aura. No, it is more or less derived from their identities and backgrounds.
As exalted as their identities are, it remained a puzzle as to why their clothing was so plain and casual; haggard even. Forget the old man, the young maiden who appeared to be in her mid-twenties wore a long black dress with a pair of cut-short sleeves, bare feet, and a rustic scabbard loosely bound to her waist. However, a dense bloodlust radiated from her petite figure, as though a primal beast in a temporary slumber as she stood their eyes closed.
By her side, the old man was snoring quietly while his old and bedraggled body swayed with the rhythm. Oddly enough, everyone's heartbeat fell in sync with his swaying, and their inhales and exhales fell in sync with his snores. It was a bizarre, frightening experience to say the least.
Batch after batch of slave candidates recycled the stage, and the bidding wars broke loose all gates of pretentiousness in mere moments. The candidates who experienced a rude awakening from their delusions about immortality and power stood on the broad stage, as rigid as they were scared, but were helpless to it all.
Some were shaking, some were babbling nonsense, and quite a few maintained a semblance of calm rationality. It was at this specific moment that the woman slowly opened her eyes, revealing a phoenix-like, bloody red eye. Everyone's hearts in the VIP chambers skipped a beat, and silence thereafter reigned supreme.Rêađ lat𝒆st ch𝒂/p/ters on n𝒐/v/𝒆/l(b)i𝒏(.)c/𝒐/m
However, the thousands of participants in the lower floors basked in sheer ignorance as the bids riled up more and more. Silver coins quickly transitioned into gold coins, and before they knew it, essence crystals were tossed into the bidding war. From single-digit offers, and eventually to double-digit offers which eliminated 99% of the bidding contenders.
Everyone could tell that this specific candidate was an eye candy, young, and judging from his clothing; he must have enjoyed quite the status back on his home planet. A lot of young prodigies enjoyed trampling on the dignity of people with similar upbringing and temperament, it brought them unimaginable satisfaction.
Imagine having someone who lived their life as a king, emperor, or tyrant grovel at your feet overnight. This feeling, as twisted and fucked up as it sounds, felt absolutely amazing.
And this young man who stood there casually with a vacant expression in his pitch-black eyes as though the world meant nothing to him. This young man who didn't seem bothered or responsive whatsoever to the shouts, taunts, and commotion from the audience as though he was facing a group of rats. This young man had inadvertently struck their pride collectively.
It almost felt like he was the one inspecting damaged goods and not the other way around. It was at this moment that the young man steered his lifeless eyes in the direction of the VIP chambers. Although all he saw was a stretcher of solid, white glass, his eyes mysteriously crossed the line of sight with the mysterious woman across the divider.
Without a moment to spare, her voice echoed from the VIP chambers, albeit encrypted, to the auction venue outside as she said, "100 quintessential crystals."
The declaration lulled everyone into silence regardless of age and status. What was the concept of 100 quintessential crystals?
To put things into perspective, the populace in the Kingdoms of Immortals are classified into four tiers; Mortal, Saint, Divine, and Immortal. Correspondingly, to each different classification their individual currency.
Mortals deal with gold and silver, the fundamental source of their wealth and power.
Saints deal with Essence Crystals, the fundamental source of their wealth and power.
The Divine deals with Quintessential Crystals, the fundamental source of their wealth and power.
Immortals deal with Ether Crystals, the fundamental source of their wealth and power.
Everyone was shocked because the esteemed guest is basically exchanging the currency of the divine for a mere mortal youth. Albeit exceedingly handsome, he was still a mortal; nothing will change that. The young man was obviously in oblivion to these numbers, but his vast experience in handling the business empire brought up by his mother allowed him to read the mood.
Humans, for all their flaws and weaknesses, were still a shrewd race.
Even the beautiful auctioneer was shocked for a good few seconds before snapping back to her senses. After all, she was a professional auctioneer, and thus she conducted the bidding in a calm manner regardless of her immense shock.
As expected, the young man was sold for 100 quintessential crystals uncontested.
Leonardo was then escorted backstage to meet his new owner in an isolated room to conduct the transaction, contract signing, and the necessary bonding between master and slave.
THIS CHAPTER UPLOAD FIRST AT NOVELBIN.COM