The chains rattled as Nuel's gaze swept over the five children. Their bodies were tense, their eyes wild with fear and defiance.
He turned to Khamari. "I only want three. Let them fight," he said, voice calm, almost casual, as if discussing the weather.
The merchant's lips curved into a thin smile. "As you wish, my friend," he said, loosening their bonds.
The air thickened with anticipation. The children glared at one another, sizing up their opponents.
The largest of the five, a boy whose shoulders seemed too broad for his age, needed no challenge; his dominance was already established. He turned his eyes unwilling to see any of his friends in pain.
The first fight erupted quickly a blur of movement. One of the boys, the one who had fought Nuel earlier, though still nursing injuries, lunged at his chosen target. The clash was fierce, short, and decisive.
For a moment, Nuel allowed himself a flicker of interest, watching the injured boy's calculated strikes.
At the end, he had his hand on his opponent's throat, victory certain. Then, unexpectedly, he withdrew, leaving the other on the floor. Such compassion was rare.
It was a mistake. The fallen child's instincts took over. With a swift kick, he sent his opponent sprawling.
Before the boy could recover, he leapt atop him, hands closing around his neck, squeezing until the fight ended in unconsciousness.
He stood, chest heaving, eyes cold, observing the remaining two.
They circled each other warily, movements sharp and deliberate. The girl among them moved with precise grace, striking with efficiency and patience.
What was shocking though was that she was smiling a wide long eerie smile was plastered on her bony, dirt ridden face. Such a smile seemed out of place in this hell.
In the end, she triumphed, leaving her opponent panting and defeated.
Nuel stepped forward, expression unchanged, and withdrew his wallet. Three 1,000-pound notes and one 500-pound note slid across to the trader. Khamari's smile widened as he presented a contract.
" The need a surname" the merchant said, though Nuel's hands remained folded, unmoved.
"Do it yourself," Nuel replied, voice even.
"Very well, my friend," Khamari said. "These three shall bear the name Shadeek—slave."
The contract signed, The three children, had their chains loosened but left on as a reminder of their status, they were guided out of the alcove. Nuel directed them into a waiting carriage. As the wheels turned, carrying them to the west, the shadows of the south faded behind them.