Last night at dinner, Thunder had explained his idea of buying slaves to Uncle Oak, who had no objections at all.
Today, he would head to the slave market with the two others from the household.
Waking up early, Thunder went to the courtyard to exercise. As a mage, he couldn't afford to let his body grow weak. Unlike other mages who had to meditate, Thunder had extra time to spare.
Fayel Town was quite a distance from home—about five miles, roughly an hour's walk.
Their destination was the slave market in Fayel Town. These days, slaves were dirt cheap. The lowest-grade ones could be bought for just a single gold coin.
Fayel was a second-tier town in the Kingdom of Silan, essentially a satellite city around the capital.
They set off after breakfast. Thunder was exhausted after walking only a short while. Meanwhile, Tifa followed behind him, quietly munching on melon seeds without a hint of fatigue.
"Stop snacking so much!" Thunder plopped down on the grass, tempted to pant like a dog but decided against it for dignity's sake.
At the young master's command, Tifa quickly stuffed the seeds back into her pocket.
Uncle Oak chuckled. "We really should buy a few slaves. Leaving the house empty every time we go out isn't safe."
Thunder took out his coin pouch and tossed it to Tifa, who fumbled to catch it, unsure what to do.
"Hold it. I'm exhausted." Colin's physical condition was abysmal, worse than Thunder could tolerate. "Uncle, how much farther?"
"Only halfway there," Uncle Oak replied. "We should buy a horse later—about ten gold coins. It'll save you the trouble of walking."
"Young Master..." Tifa timidly stepped forward, turning her back to Thunder and crouching. "I'll carry you!"
"Who do you think I am?" Thunder felt utterly humiliated. He stood up stubbornly, dusted himself off, and marched ahead.
Tifa glanced at Uncle Oak, unsure what she'd done wrong.
"Don't worry, let's keep going," the old man reassured her.
Luckily, they hitched a ride with a farmer, who kindly dropped them off at Fayel Town for a few copper coins.
After getting off the cart, Thunder looked at Tifa and Uncle Oak. "We should buy some clothes too. Look at what this girl's wearing—barely human."
Tifa's outfit was cheap linen, patched in several places. Even Uncle Oak's clothes were shabby. Only Thunder's attire, though worn, looked somewhat presentable.
"How about some jewelry for you?" Tifa's hair was tied up with nothing but twigs.
She frantically waved her hands, and Uncle Oak chimed in, "Young Master, don't spoil the child. It'll make her picky."
"I know my limits," Thunder nodded.
Looking around, he spotted a large shop with a sign: *Magic Supplies*.
"Let's check it out." Thunder's knowledge of this world's magic was limited to Colin's sparse memories. Seeing a shop related to his craft piqued his interest.
"Young Master... things there are expensive!" Uncle Oak warned.
"Just browsing, not buying." Thunder stepped inside.
A clerk eagerly approached. "What can I get for you, sir?"
"Looking around." Thunder ignored him, scanning the unfamiliar items.
"Out, out! Who let you in?" The clerk's voice rose behind Thunder. Turning, he saw the man shooing Uncle Oak and Tifa away.
"What's your problem?" Thunder grabbed the clerk by the collar and yanked him back.
Outside, Uncle Oak shuffled awkwardly, while Tifa kept her head down.
"Are they with you?" The clerk eyed Thunder suspiciously.
"My butler and maid. Got an issue?" Thunder despised people who bullied the weak.
"...No." The clerk muttered under his breath, "Why are they dressed like beggars?"
"Young Master, you go ahead. We'll wait outside," Uncle Oak said, rubbing his hands nervously.
"Get in. You're blocking the door." Thunder dragged Tifa in by the scruff of her neck. Both she and Uncle Oak looked uncomfortable, but Thunder couldn't care less.
"What's this thing?" Thunder picked up a crystal ball.
The clerk, unimpressed by the ragged entourage, barely paid attention.
As soon as Thunder touched the orb, it glowed faintly.
"Hey, it lights up!" Thunder grinned. This could make a nice lamp.
The clerk's indifferent expression instantly turned fawning. "Ah! Sir, you're a noble mage?"
"Explain." Thunder frowned.
"Honored Mage, this crystal ball is an alchemical product. It only glows when held by a mage—the stronger the magic, the brighter the light."
"I see." Thunder nodded. Colin's memories held no such knowledge—likely because the wastrel had no talent for magic and never bothered learning.
"At this brightness, you must be an intermediate mage," the clerk gushed, bowing deeply.
Thunder nodded and set the orb back.
*Intermediate mage? And I haven't even channeled magic yet.* But he decided not to draw too much attention.
"Sir, what would you like?" The clerk turned obsequious.
A row of neatly arranged boxes caught Thunder's eye. Inside were scroll-like objects.
"What are these?" He picked one up, sensing a faint magical pulse.
"You... don't know?" The clerk's eyes bulged. "Sir, you must be joking. These are magic scrolls!"
Will Thunder uncover their true power?