Fischer peered into the tent corner that Colin had pulled back. In the shadowy interior stacked with cages, pairs of eyes, drawn by the voices outside, looked up—some bright, some dim, many filled with hate—all staring toward the entrance.
Leaning on his cane, Fischer tipped up the brim of his hat and walked ahead of Colin.
“No need, just take me to see them.”
“No problem, no problem, right this way.” Colin gestured and followed Fischer into the cramped tent.
The moment Fischer stepped inside, a low growl—like a cat bristling—sounded from one of the cages. He turned and saw a young cat demi-human curled in a corner, pupils narrowed to slits, warily watching Fischer, especially the cane in his hand.
But when Fischer met the child’s eyes with his calm gaze, the little one seemed startled and quickly lowered his head, letting out a low, hissing whimper.
“You damn beast!”
Colin stormed forward and gave the cage a violent kick. The blow slammed the cat child against the cage wall. The chain around his neck lit up, and so did his slave mark, forcing a painful howl from his throat.
But the cry only lasted a few seconds before it stopped. The child appeared unconscious.
Fischer stared at the now-silent cage for a second or two before shifting his gaze and following Colin deeper into the tent.
The cage arrangement followed a hierarchy—the more valuable the demi-humans, the further inside they were kept.
Near the front were catfolk, dogfolk, and werewolves, types relatively common in the wild. Further in, under the dim glow, Fischer spotted a male Avian demi-human with white feathers, but the poor creature looked barely alive.
These beings, lower than even working slaves, stripped of all basic rights, were demi-humans scattered across the world.
Ever since the birth of steam engines and smokestacks, bathed in the brilliance of human civilization, humanity had plundered the world for profit, harvesting resources to create more value. Distances shrank, production boomed, and human society flourished...
Yet who could have foreseen that these seemingly inferior creatures would one day bring that very civilization to ruin?
The tent''s overhead light flickered. Colin stopped in front of a cage and clapped his hands. A faint glow descended from the ceiling and landed precisely atop a cage, illuminating what lay inside.
Fischer looked. In the modest-sized cage, the light first revealed crimson-red hair, dark and rich like dried blood. Then he saw her humanoid arm, coated with fine, neatly patterned red scales. A slender tail curled around her drawn-up knees.
A young girl sat inside, clad in a grimy linen short tunic that looked like it hadn’t been changed in ages. Her limbs ended not in human hands or feet, but in dragon-like claws. Her eyes glowed with an unnatural green light, and when she blinked, an inner eyelid opened and closed again, revealing irises like emeralds.
She was a young dragonkin—red-haired, red-scaled, long-tailed. No doubt, this was the one Fischer had come for.
Their gazes met—her emerald-green eyes locked with Fischer’s cool stare. In the next moment, her golden pupils sharpened into vertical slits. Her face was expressionless, but the chill in her eyes was enough to make one shudder, as if she could tear someone apart in the next breath.
“This is the gem we worked so hard to capture,” Colin said through clenched teeth. “We lost several slaves in the process.”
He gave the cage a kick, but unlike the cat-child, the dragonkin girl made no sound—just stared at them silently.
“But she really is a treasure... Her blood can be refined into ‘dragon blood’—that’s good stuff, especially for a gentleman like yourself. Oh, and dragon scales too—once removed, they’re extremely useful. I’ve heard that the nobles in Shivali love using them to make heated pads. Come wintertime, ha...”
As he spoke, his eyes gleamed covetously at the girl’s scales.
Dragonkin scales, even after removal, retained heat by absorbing sunlight, making them a favored luxury item among nobles and merchants—especially during winter.
And dragon blood—not actual dragon blood, for no true dragons existed in this world—was a refined product from the blood of these dragonkin. When consumed by humans, it boosted vitality and energy, a rare and valuable tonic.
Fischer glanced at the other cages nearby. Inside were four more female dragonkin—two white, one blue, and one yellow.
“Alright. I’ll take them.”
“Three conditions.” Fischer raised three fingers toward Colin. “First, transfer the slave marks to me. Second, have them bathed. Third, give them each a clean new linen tunic.”
“No problem at all!”
With a wave of Colin’s chubby hand, the cages began to move. Beneath them, dozens of beetle-like dwarf creatures rolled the cages forward along an improvised track.
The stench was overwhelming. Fischer took one final look inside before exiting and returning to his carriage, parked at the entrance of the circus.
This wilderness near Bryan City was still far from Carl Port, the gateway to Saint Nary—a journey that would take at least a month. Unlike the Western Continent, the Southern Continent lacked an extensive rail system or proper infrastructure. Just open plains and monsters.
But for the money-hungry daredevils of the Western Continent, this land was filled with untapped gold.
“Mr. Fischer, all done!”
Colin jogged over, clutching a roll of dark brown parchment. His fat jiggled wildly with each step, sweat dripping like rain.
Behind him, several women in maid uniforms led the dragonkin girls, each one bound in iron chains.
Finally stepping out of that dim tent, Fischer could now see them clearly.
Though female dragonkin weren’t as tall as males—who stood nearly two meters—they still averaged around 170cm. The red one, in particular, stood taller than the others. Her long tail hung behind her but didn’t touch the ground due to her height.
The others wore dead, vacant expressions. Only the red-haired one’s eyes remained calm, though deep within those emerald lakes, something unknown stirred.
“I’ve instructed the maids to clean every speck of dirt between their scales. Here’s the contract scroll. Please place your hand on it.”
Fischer complied. As his palm pressed against the scroll, tendrils of purple light crept up his arm. Within seconds, a strange sensation swept over him. A chorus of heartbeats echoed in his ears—faint but tangible. At will, he could slow them, hasten them… or stop them entirely.
The dragonkin were now completely under his control.
The maid stepped forward and handed him the chains. Fischer, however, boarded the carriage first and opened the door, signaling the girls to enter.
As they passed him, the dragonkin girls each gave him a wary glance before silently stepping into the carriage.
Fischer didn’t enter after them. He gently shut the door, set his cane aside like before, and took up the reins.
“Farewell, Mr. Colin.”
“Safe travels, safe travels!”
Colin bowed low, his fat quivering. By the time he straightened again, the black carriage was already galloping across the Bryan plains, vanishing into the horizon.
As the vehicle faded from view, Colin muttered to himself:
“Unbelievable... What kind of man was that... No, we have to leave. Immediately...”
He slowly made his way back to the tented area. His massive figure vanished behind the curtains. The only sound was the rhythmic clapping of his hands.
With each clap, the entire circus came alive—lights, music, all flickering and booming. The white curtains spun faster and faster, eventually engulfing the entire circus, then shrinking rapidly.
The music swelled louder and louder.
“Kexiening! Kexiening! Kexiening!”
Voices chanted in praise, and in the next second, the entire circus, now the size of a basketball, vanished—along with the music. All that remained was the sack holding a corpse...
And the earth spirits still peeking from the soil as they always had.