Lorian was utterly captivated by the sights and sounds of Veridia's market.
Everywhere he looked, there were people unlike any he had ever seen within the castle walls.
Merchants from distant lands, with faces that seemed to be weathered by sun and wind, were haggling fiercely with local vendors in languages he couldn't understand.
The strange, vibrant clothes they were wearing were unlike anything Lorian ever had seen anyone wearing in the Thorne household. Those attires clearly marked them as foreigners.
Towering, muscular warriors, both men and women, were seen roaming through the crowds.
They were wearing armors of unfamiliar design and were carrying weapons that were shaped in ways Lorian had never encountered in his library's texts.
Some of them seemed to be working as bodyguards for wealthy merchants, while others were browsing the stalls, perhaps shopping for themselves.
Children were laughing and chasing each other in through the busy footpath.
Street performers had gathered delighted crowds around them, showcasing their unique talents—jugglers with glowing orbs, bards playing strange, melodious instruments, or magicians showing magic tricks.
Eldard was observing the young master with a fond smile.
He had immediately noticed the awestruck expression on Lorian's face, which was a blend of wonder and intense curiosity.
Eldard was both amused and deeply pleased.
His old, experienced eyes had seen many young nobles on their first venture into the city, but none had possessed the intense, analytical gaze that Lorian was now holding while observing the surroundings keenly.
Filled with a profound sense of pride, Eldard leaned closer to Lorian and spoke in his calm and clear voice, "Young Master, what you are seeing before you is not merely a collection of stalls and traders; it is the very beating heart of Veridia itself.
This is the place where the true wealth and influence of the Thorne family truly manifest.
Every single transaction, every heavily loaded cart, every exotic good traded here is a testament to the vast trade networks your family controls—networks controlled now by the very capable hand of Lord Elmsworth, and in the future, by your own, my master."
Lorian offered no verbal reply but instead gave a slow nod of agreement.
He wasn't in a state to speak; his mind was too engrossed in processing the sheer scale of his family's power and the immense responsibilities that he knew would one day fall to him.
Elara, seeing his utterly captivated expression and the way he seemed lost in deep thought, gently tugged on his sleeve.
"Young Master," she spoke softly, in a voice filled with concern, "perhaps we should try to keep to the main road for now? It can be quite... overwhelming for a first visit."
However, Elara's genuine concern fell on deaf ears.
Lorian seemed not to notice what she said, his business-attuned mind already busy cataloging, observing, and understanding the entire market system.
After all, this was the very world he was destined to thrive in, the world he would eventually command.
The sheer scale of it, the endless possibilities for mergers and acquisitions, diversification, and growth—these ideas sparked something powerful and deep within him.
The Auric Spire, for all its safety and comfort, now felt small and distant to him.
He realized with absolute clarity that this bustling, vibrant market was where his true education would finally begin.
But suddenly, a strange, guttural growling sound cut sharply through the usual noise of the market.
It was a deep, wild sound, oddly out of place and deeply contrasting with the typical market noise they had grown accustomed to.
Lorian's head snapped to the side, his eyes narrowing as he witnessed a strange and disturbing sight.
There was a narrow alley beside them, its entrance loosely covered by two large sheets of cloth, acting as makeshift curtains. From behind these curtains, the growling seemed to intensify.
Lorian looked at Eldard; his gaze was sharp with unspoken questions.
Eldard's composure wavered slightly, with a hint of hesitation entering his voice as he replied, "Young Master, Veridia is also a central hub for... for slave trade."
Lorian's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his expression quickly changing into one of disturbance and disgust.
Eldard, noticing his reaction, quickly added, "Lord Elmsworth himself wished to put a stop to this practice, for Lady Seraphina is greatly against it.
But many important people, particularly Lord Cassian himself, are heavily invested in these operations."
Eldard continued, explaining the difficult truth,
"Therefore, on Lord Elmsworth's insistence, the trading of human beings was banned inside the city limits.
However, in places such as this alley, the trading of demi-humans has, regrettably, been greatly bolstered.
In fact, Veridia has become a leading center for the trading of demi-humans across the continent."
Lorian sighed, a sign of a subtle acknowledgment of the harsh truth of this world.
He understood the complexities.
He also knew it would be incredibly difficult for him to abolish this practice outright, at least not until he could offer another equally lucrative alternative to the slave traders and the powerful people associated with them.
After all, Veridia was a Republic, not a Monarchy, meaning even the Thorne family's power, immense as it was, had limits and needed the cooperation of various influential factions.
Despite his unease, Lorian expressed a desire to check on the establishment to see what was inside.
Neither Eldard nor Elara liked the idea; a visible apprehension clouded Elara's features, and Eldard's jaw tightened.
However, they did not dare to actively dissuade him from his decision, witnessing the firm resolve in his eyes.
But before Lorian could take another step towards the curtained alley, a huge commotion erupted.
There was a sudden, chaotic surge of noise, and then, like a black cloud, something sprang with astonishing speed from behind the curtains.
Before anyone in their small group could react, it launched itself directly onto Lorian.
Lorian felt a sharp, piercing pain on his neck. Four sharp objects—claws, he realized—were pressed against his skin, just below his ear.
A guttural whisper, raw and threatening, reached his ear:
"Don't move, manling, or I will tear your neck and kill you this instant."
Lorian, despite the pain and the immediate danger, kept his cool and chuckled calmly, "And you truly believe you will be able to save yourself after you kill me?" he whispered back in his unwavering voice.
Meanwhile, a small crowd had gathered around them, drawn by the commotion. Among them were several slave masters; their faces were a mixture of confusion and bewildered frustration.
A plump, old man, clearly one of the owners, pushed through the crowd.
His face was red with fury.
He shouted threats at his runaway slave, demanding it release the 'human kid' it was holding hostage.
Lorian, though he couldn't turn his head to see his captor, could feel the creature trembling against him, its body shaking with fear. He could hear it swallowing repeatedly.
Lorian spoke to it again; his voice was remarkably calm and composed, almost as if he were giving advice rather than negotiating his life.
"Listen to me, if you kill me, you will surely die as well.
And you can't escape the city with me, no. I am just a lowly human boy; I bet my life wouldn't cost anything significant in their eyes.
If the slave master has to choose between letting you go or letting you kill me, he will choose the second option.
You will just face more punishment for making him lose his money to cover up my death.
So, you have two clear options.
Either kill me and be killed right now, or let me go, surrender, and survive."
The voice near his ear was desperate, a raw whisper, "You do not know living like a slave is worse than getting killed!"
Lorian smiled grimly, "And you don't know that Death is just the end. But as long as you are breathing, there is always a chance to improve your situation. Do not underestimate the value of survival!"
The voice fell silent.
Lorian could feel the pressure on his neck subtly loosen.
Eventually, the grip vanished completely, and he found himself free.
He slowly turned around to see a magnificent black panther standing on two legs, like a human.
Lorian immediately realized it was one of the famed Beastmen he had read about in the library's ancient texts.
Before anyone else could react, the guards from the slave master's establishment quickly rushed forward, grabbing the panther with rough hands and immediately began beating it.
Elara, her eyes squeezed shut, pleaded Lorian, begging him to walk away, to ignore the brutal scene.
Lorian, however, laughed softly and gently patted her head.
"Injustice does not vanish simply because you close your eyes, Elara.
Either you protest and try to stop it now, or you bide your time and make a careful plan to stop the injustice in the future.
Looking away is never the answer."
Elara was speechless, simply looking blankly at Lorian with moist, unblinking eyes; her usual timidness had been replaced by profound awe.
The same quiet wonder was being reflected in Eldard's expression.
He was deeply moved by such a profound statement from the Young Master.
He felt an immense surge of pride for Lorian.
Lord Elmsworth and Lady Seraphina had instructed him to describe in detail how Lorian carried himself outside the palace.
Imagining their happy, proud faces, Eldard was filled with excitement for the report he would give.