Much later...
Long after the city lights below had settled into a gentle glow, Spark rose from the tangled sheets. He moved silently. His huge frame was surprisingly graceful.
He dressed in simple, dark clothes. Nothing that screamed 'noble' or 'wealthy'. He pulled up a simple hood that shadowed his face.
Lilith and Ivy were still sleeping deeply. Undisturbed.
He left the villa unnoticed. Slipping out a small side gate that opened onto a quiet back alley.
His destination: the Chained Devil Slave Market. It was located in the lower sectors of the city. Yet, it was not that far from the polished spires and noble districts.
The journey was uneventful. He moved through the shadows. A large, imposing figure that most people instinctively avoided. The air grew heavier. Smelling of stale sweat, fear, and something metallic – blood, probably.
The Chained Devil was a cavernous building. Its entrance guarded by burly men with dull eyes and heavy halberds.
Spark offered no greeting. Simply presenting a small, heavy coin. Embossed with a specific, discrete symbol. The guard eyed him, then the coin. And grunted, they stepped aside. Entry wasn't for the curious or the poor.
Inside, the market was dimly lit. The air was thick with the same unpleasant odors. The sounds were muted. Low sobs, clanking chains, the occasional sharp command.
Rows of cages lined the walls. Each was holding individuals with blank stares or defiant glares. Marked for sale.
Looking at them, Spark felt a tinge of discomfort. But he gritted his teeth and ignored it. He ignored them all. He wasn't here to deal with common slavery. He wasn't here to fix the rotten system.
He approached a heavy, reinforced door at the back. Another glance at the symbol. Another guard stepping aside. This led him to a smaller, private office.
Behind a solid desk sat a man, whose face was a roadmap of scars and cynicism. He was bald. Wore a stained shirt. And his eyes held the dead calculation of someone who dealt in human misery as inventory. This was the manager. A man known only as 'Cutter'.
Cutter looked up as Spark entered. His dead eyes assessed Spark's size. And the silent confidence he exuded. He didn't recognize the face under the hood. But the symbol on the coin spoke volumes about access and potential wealth.
"Quiet night." Cutter rasped. His voice like grinding stones. "You're not here for the floor stock, I assume?"
Spark pulled up a chair without being invited and sat. His large form dominating the small office.
"Correct. I'm looking for specific merchandise. Show me the catalogue for... specialized inventory. Female. Young. Awakened or higher tier. Proven track record justifying a terminal fate. But still with potential."
Cutter didn't flinch. He reached under his desk and pulled out a thick, leather-bound ledger. "High standards. Most with 'terminal fates' don't have much 'potential' left. They're broken or useless."
He pushed the book across the desk. "But we get certain... specimens. Based on your requirements, the list is short."
Spark took the ledger. It wasn't a simple list. Each entry included a portrait. Awakened power system. A brief history. Documented crimes. And estimated 'potential' ratings based on observed abilities or lineage.
He flipped through the pages. His expression was neutral. All in the list were criminals. Many raiders and murderers. A great number of minor cultists caught in failed schemes.
Some had useful skills. But many were too damaged. Too old. Or simply lacked any appeal for Spark.
He paused on one entry. The portrait showed a young woman. Defiant even in a crudely drawn sketch. Her eyes were sharp, her chin held high. Black hair. Striking features. Even in the poor rendering.
Ideanna Finch. Spark read the name. It was somehow... familiar. He knew her, or at least knew of her. She was the daughter of a merchant who'd made a fortune in the spice trade. And had recently bought his way into the minor nobility.
Spark had seen her at a few stuffy social functions a few months ago. Showing off by playing harp in public. Snobbish. Entitled. Pretty in a brittle way.
He hadn't paid her much attention. But the girl and her mother were quite popular. They were quite accomplished as wishart musicians.
And wishart was one of the nine minor paths of power. It was the mystical ability to imbue arts with temporary buff. Or de-buff. She should be well regarded.
But now, her name was in a slave catalogue.
He flipped the page to her detailed file. It was extensive. Lady Ideanna Finch. Age 18. Arrested just three days ago. Charges... conspiracy to commit treason. Participation in forbidden blood ritual. Multiple counts of murder. Specifically, six underage victims.
The file detailed the raid on the Finch family estate. The Royal Guards, acting on a tip, had burst in to find the family and several others mid-ritual. A Holy Sun Cult ritual.
The file specified it as 'Luck Augmentation Transmutation'. A ritual involving the sacrifice of 'pure souls' to siphon their life force and potential. Converting them into the participants' good fortune. These pure souls were the household's young maids, brutally murdered for the sacrifice.
Her father, Lord Geosprey Finch, had resisted violently and been killed in the resulting crackdown. Her mother, Lady Oleanna Finch, had been captured along with several cult members. And was now awaiting trial in Broken Claw Prison.
Ideanna was just turning 18 a few weeks before. Somehow, she was deemed 'minor participant' and 'salvageable' by a twisted interpretation of the law. Or perhaps she was too politically inconvenient to execute immediately.
Instead of joining the others as prisoners, she was stripped of her title. Her assets were seized. And she was sold to the Chained Devil market under a special sealed writ.
The file heavily noted her extreme fanaticism. And lack of remorse. And, like any other Holy Sun Cultist, fearless obstinacy. Those were well-documented during interrogation.
Spark closed the ledger. A small, satisfied smile playing on his lips. A Holy Sun cultist? Involved in bloody ritual? Cruel? Fanatic? And with wishart potential? Perfect!
"I'll take this one." Spark stated, pushing the ledger back. "Ideanna Finch."
Cutter raised a scarred eyebrow. "Her? She's... difficult. Tried to bite a guard when she came for her measurements. High price for that one. She's high-strung."
"Price is irrelevant." Spark said dismissively. "Just handle the paperwork. Have her brought out."
Cutter shrugged. A gesture that sent ripples through his ample frame. "Suit yourself. Your coins." He took a small, chipped rune-slate. And began inputting information.
Minutes later, heavy footsteps echoed from a back corridor. Two guards dragged a struggling figure towards the office. It was Ideanna.
Her fine clothes were torn and dirty. Her hair was unbound and wild. Her eyes, when they finally settled on Spark, flared with pure hatred and defiance. She thrashed against the guards' grip. Spitting curses.
"You! Who are you?! Filthy pig, buying people! I'll kill you! The Sun will avenge me! The Sun will burn you!" She shrieked. Her voice raw.
Spark watched her calmly. No reaction. Just an assessment. Young, strong, full of hate and misguided faith. Good. Raw material.
As the guards shoved her closer to the desk for the final transfer, Ideanna lunged forward. Aiming a kick at Spark's leg. It was clumsy. Desperate.
Spark didn't even flinch. He simply raised one massive arm. And brought the side of his hand down in a short, sharp chop to the back of her neck. It was well controlled. The sound was a dull thud.
Ideanna's eyes widened in surprise for a fraction of a second. Before rolling back. Her body went limp. Unconscious. A dead weight in the guards' hands.
"Wrap her. Discretely." Spark ordered Cutter. Who was watching with detached amusement.
"Consider it done." Cutter said. Already gesturing to the guards. "Pleasure doing business with you... Lord." He'd clearly had made an educated guess based on Spark's purchase power and attitude.
Spark paid the exorbitant sum without comment. Ideanna's limp body was quickly wrapped in heavy, dark canvas. Spark took hold of the bundle. It wasn't heavy to him.
He nodded once at Cutter and left the way he came. A large figure carrying a shrouded, human-sized package. Through the late-night streets of the lower city. No one challenged him. Few even looked directly at him.
He returned to the villa just as silently as he'd left. Lilith and Ivy were still asleep. He carried Ideanna's unconscious form down to an unused chamber. Laying her on a reinforced table. He dismissed the canvas wrapping.
She was still breathing. Pulse steady. Unconscious. Utterly vulnerable. Spark felt no sympathy. Only pragmatic interest. Another asset. Another tool. Potential to be unlocked, shaped, and controlled.
He took out the Slave Grimoire from his spatial belt and opened it. And then, reached out a hand. His palm was hovering just above her forehead. He focused his will.
A faint pinkish glow appeared on her whole body for a split second. And then she dissolved into a stream of pink mist. Containing warm energy. The mist flowed directly from her form. Into the open pages of the Slave Grimoire.
The grimoire trembled. And then, it clicked shut. With a soft, final sound.
The weight of the Grimoire in Spark's hand felt quite different now. Heavier. More... alive. Ideanna was locked inside.
He opened and looked at the Grimoire page. A two dimensional charcoal drawing of Ideanna Finch was there. On the left-hand page of the book. On the other side, status panel appeared in specific format.
=====STATUS PANEL=====
[Name: Ideanna Finch]
[Gender: Female]
[Age: 18]
[Class: Sorceress]
[Level: Awakened (1st Tier)]
[Loyalty: 0%]
[Soul Power: Awakened Level (1st Tier)]
[Mind Power: Unawakened]
[Body Power: Unawakened]
[Talent: Melodic Soul]
[Personalities: Fanatic, Cruel]
[Modifier Currency: Clearfire Wine]
[Soulcraft Fairy: Harp Fairy]
==[Growth Item: Cloud Berry]
==[Shared Talent: Resonant Echo]
==[Ability: Soulcraft Crest - Enhancement Melody]