30. Seizing a Princess

Mo Fei led the warriors of the Berserker Legion out of the royal palace, strolling through the streets of Dragon Rock City. At first, he had intended to visit the Imperial Academy, but then he remembered he was accompanied by a hundred Berserkers—hardly convenient for a trip to the Academy.

“Lord Governor,” Kaine began, reflecting on what he’d witnessed earlier in the palace, “today we saw Emperor Tyron attended wherever he went. Even at Count Caesar’s mansion, every need was met by servants. Now, young master, you are also the lord of a city. Shouldn’t you consider having attendants of your own? At the very least, someone should look after your daily life and meals!”

“Isn’t it fine as it is?” Mo Fei replied with a chuckle. “Why would I need people fussing over my meals and daily needs? At mealtime, I simply show up at someone’s table in the city—whoever has the best cooking, I visit them more often.” He laughed heartily; after all, this was how he and Vivian had been living for a while. It was becoming city gossip that the lord would appear at random homes during mealtime. Yet, Mo Fei was beloved in Misty City; the families he visited always set out extra portions just in case he dropped by.

Kaine persisted, “For now, it’s not an issue, but Miss Vivian is a princess. She can’t live like this forever. You are a city lord, a newly appointed marquis, and in the future, the imperial son-in-law. Some measure of dignity is required. You could purchase a few attendants here in the imperial capital to serve you. That way, you wouldn’t have to wander off at mealtimes, right?”

“There are attendants for sale in this city?” Mo Fei asked.

“Of course! In that massive round building in the eastern part of the city.”

“Very well, let’s go buy a few,” Mo Fei agreed, and set off eastward with Kaine and their group.

Though Kaine’s words were vague, Mo Fei understood all too well the ugly reality of slave trading on this continent. Kaine, being a beastman, hated the slave trade deeply, but he also knew Mo Fei would never treat beastmen as slaves like most nobles. That’s why he dared suggest buying slaves; it was the least he could do to help.

Mo Fei entered the slave market with twenty of his Berserkers. The market was bustling, a long row of slaves standing with heads bowed, their eyes dull as if long accustomed to being bought and sold.

The arrival of Mo Fei and his warriors drew every gaze. The slave traders’ eyes widened—such a customer could only be a major buyer.

The market was divided into many sections. Mo Fei walked to the area where elven slaves were sold. He’d heard elves were natural archers, but he couldn’t fathom how such people ended up as slaves here.

The slaves eyed Mo Fei with unease. They’d encountered men of his status before, and none had been kind. Death was commonplace; some of their companions had simply vanished this way.

Mo Fei looked at the row of young elven slave women before him. “How much?” he asked the slave trader, his eyes cold.

“If you overcharge,” he warned, “I'll behead you and take them anyway.”

The slave trader was struck dumb. He had thought a big customer had arrived, only to discover a demon instead.

“You… you can’t do that!” the man stammered, intimidated by Mo Fei and the twenty Berserkers behind him.

Every slave trader kept a private armed force—otherwise, how could they dare abduct people into slavery? But Mo Fei’s gaze did not soften.

“How much?” he demanded again.

“One hundred fifty gold coins each,” the trader replied, quoting a price far below market value, just enough to cover the cost of his slaving crew.

“Behead him,” Mo Fei ordered sharply. In a flash of cold steel, the trader’s head flew. Mo Fei was not usually bloodthirsty, but the sight of so many slaves stirred a murderous impulse within him.

With the slave trader dead, the twenty-odd members of his capture squad were promptly slaughtered by two Berserkers.

Thus, without spending a single coin, Mo Fei acquired about fifty young elven slaves.

The other slave traders were terrified. To capture such young slaves without resistance meant their crew had skilled fighters. Yet, there hadn’t been the slightest resistance—just a massacre by two Berserkers. Now, the traders were trembling, praying that this murderous city lord would be satisfied with the fifty and leave.

But as fate would have it, Mo Fei approached another trader. He noticed a pregnant elven woman, held protectively by a male elf. Mo Fei walked over.

“Is this your wife?”

“Yes.”

“Behead him.” Even the pregnant were not spared by these slavers—their hearts were black as pitch. But the two elven slaves, terrified, collapsed to their knees.

With a wave of Kaine’s hand, several Berserkers leapt forward, cutting down the trader and his dozen slavers. Mo Fei thus gained over twenty more slaves for nothing.

“Get up,” Mo Fei said. “Kaine, find a carriage for this elven mother.”

“Yes, my lord,” Kaine replied tersely, but acted swiftly.

With two traders dead, the remaining slave traders dared not linger. They fled in panic. And so, without spending a single coin, Mo Fei ended up with nearly a thousand slaves.

“Kaine, check if any have trouble walking—find carriages for them. We’ll take them back to the city for now.”

“Yes, my lord,” Kaine replied, always brief, but ever efficient.

One hundred Berserkers escorted more than a thousand slaves out of Dragon Rock City. What awaited them now? At the very least, Mo Fei would be a good lord, but all the slaves had seen so far was his bloodlust. They dared not hope their lives would improve. Only when they reached Misty City, and heard Mo Fei’s words, did their taut nerves finally relax.

Mo Fei returned to Misty City with over a thousand slaves, drawing Elder Orff and others away from their work at the forges to see what was happening.

“My lord, what is this?” Elder Orff asked, stunned by the number of slaves. “How much did you extort from the Empire this time? How did you buy so many people?”

“I didn’t spend a coin!” Mo Fei laughed.

“Not a coin?” Elder Orff was confused, glancing at Kaine.

Kaine simply said, “We took them.”

“Hahaha!” Elder Orff roared with laughter. He too despised the slave traders—after all, some dwarves had been taken as slaves before.

“Well done, my lord,” Orff said, “but how do you plan to settle them?”

“We’ll ask them first,” Mo Fei replied. He had Kaine gather all the slaves and addressed them: “You have two choices. One, you can stay here, but you’ll have to earn your own keep—we have no surplus to feed idle hands. Two, you can choose to return home. Misty City will provide travel expenses based on the length of your journey.”

The slaves stared at Mo Fei in disbelief—especially when he mentioned travel money. They were stunned. Was he trying to let them go only to hunt them down later? Such things had happened before, so none dared reply immediately.

“If you stay, the city will arrange lodging and work for you. Some of you may even join our city guard, helping to protect our paradise.”

At this, one of the fifty elves Mo Fei had first rescued stepped forward—a young elf. “Honored Lord Governor, will you truly let us return home?”

“Of course. I’ll give you travel money and weapons,” Mo Fei answered with a smile.

Seeing his smile, the elf seemed to sense his sincerity. “We thank you for saving us. The elves will remember your kindness forever. The Goddess of Night will bless you.”

He continued, “We have decided: after escorting one of our companions home, the rest of us will return here to serve you.”

“If you escort your companion home, there’s no need to return. The journey is long and dangerous—better to stay in your homeland. Your loyalty is enough.”

“Who said I want to go home?” piped up a petite, beautiful elven girl. “This place is lovely—I’ll stay until I’ve had enough fun.”

“Princess…” the male elf exclaimed anxiously.

“Princess?” Mo Fei was taken aback—this was more complicated than he’d thought.

“Luther, take a few with you and inform my mother. Tell her that once I’ve had my fun, the warriors of Misty City will escort me home.”

Luther, seeing the princess had spoken, knew further protest was useless. “Your Highness, please take care. I’ll return at once to report to Her Majesty the Queen.”

He then approached Mo Fei. “Lord Governor, please protect our princess well. The elves will be eternally grateful. Please grant us some gold coins and weapons—we must hurry back to the Elven King’s city and inform Her Majesty of the princess’s safety.”

Mo Fei was stunned; he had not expected the adorable elven girl to be a princess.

“All right, don’t worry—your princess will be safe here,” Mo Fei reassured him. “Elder, are the repeating crossbows ready? Equip them with a few sets. And bring out some gold coins!”