Chapter 13: A Twist in the Auction

Lara had long been flushed with embarrassment even as she mumbled; it took her a while to notice that the man before her had gone completely silent while she rambled on.

When she slowly lifted her head, she saw him smiling quietly.

“I suppose it’s time to be on my way.”

As soon as he spoke, his hand landed on the top of Lara’s head. Stroking her hair and giving a sly smile as he departed, Lara stared blankly after him. It looked as though he was heading to the floor where the slave auction was taking place, yet she couldn’t chase after him or call him back.

‘How can he act so nonchalantly about this?!’

For a man to casually touch a lady’s head was undeniably strange. Yet, even so, she didn’t feel bad about it. Her heart pounded inexplicably, leaving Lara with her head bowed for a long moment.

‘Endanger the heroine?!’

‘No matter what, God wouldn’t ask for something like this!’

Snapping out of her daze by the urgent voice, Lara threw aside the surgical headrest and stormed out of the operating room.

‘But if the heroine gets seriously injured…’

Emperor? Lara tilted her head, suddenly recalling that man.

If His Majesty the Emperor was here, then the man with her must be one of his attendants. Convinced her suspicion was right, Lara filed away this new information in her mind.

Under the relentless persuasion, Lara resolved to deliberately endanger the heroine. Taking Elina II to the slave auction, the central stage of events, would undoubtedly land her in deep trouble.

She attempted to lead Elina II, who had been leisurely perusing a magazine in the waiting room, up to the upper floor. But when she arrived, the waiting room was utterly empty.

‘Where on earth did everyone go…?’

Lara hurried out of the room. Upon returning to the cell, she discovered every corridor was deserted. She traversed the long corridor of cells until she reached another hallway at the end.

At the end of the corridor, she found a staircase leading upward. Cautiously climbing the stairs and opening the door, she was met by a hallway carpeted in red.

“All auction hosts and participants have been captured. We’ve also succeeded in rescuing the women enslaved during the auction.”

“It seems they’ve also caught some men and children. They’re being held in a separate cell. The building’s layout is so labyrinthine that it’s impossible to tell where they’ve been locked up…”

When thick voices arose not far off, Lara hid behind a wall to eavesdrop. Each knight’s face showed unmistakable signs of frustration.

‘Now what do we do? It seems the scene has already been secured.’

‘That means…’

Lara had to ensure that Elina II rescued that slave hero before the knights did—or rather, made him rescue him.

Turning quickly, Lara darted into a corner to avoid the knights. She figured something might be hidden in an isolated spot. However, it seemed that the knights had already swept every room; every door was left ajar.

‘It can’t be this easy.’

With no sign of Elina II or the slave hero’s location, despair set in.

At that moment, God’s voice echoed. She had thought it was all talk, but it turned out to be useful after all.

Lara stepped through the door God indicated. The room had already been ransacked by the knights—it was in utter disarray. Bookshelves were askew, a carpet was half-rolled up, chairs were toppled, and desk drawers lay in ruin. As Lara scanned the room, a rustling sound came from beneath the desk.

“W-who’s there?!”

Alert and apprehensive, Lara turned around to see a head peeking over the desk. The clothes the man wore looked so tattered they might as well have been rags, yet his finely chiseled muscles were unmistakable.

The man sprang up, pushing against the desk. His hands were larger than most, and his claws had grown wild, like those of a beast. Amidst his disheveled blonde hair, his piercing golden eyes blazed. With that, he vaulted over the desk and lunged at her.

“Ahhh!”

Stumbling backward and falling, Lara swung something heavy in her hand, closing her eyes instinctively—a reflex born of sheer survival.

A sharp, resounding crash echoed. When she opened her eyes, she saw the fallen blonde man sprawled atop her.

“Th-that’s the hero?!”

Lara glanced down at the hefty book clutched in her hand. The blood smeared on its corner sent a shiver down her spine.

“N-no, it can’t be…”

Drops of blood stained his unruly blonde hair, trickling steadily onto the floor. God’s voice was no longer audible.

Pale and shocked, Lara stumbled backward. Her butt felt numb and tingly, though strangely, she felt nothing at all.

She had killed someone—a hero, no less.

Trembling like a patient in the final stages of a tremor, Lara’s hands shook uncontrollably. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. A dull thud echoed as the book slipped from her grasp.

Even God’s voice quivered as if witnessing a murder. A heavy, suffocating silence fell between them. Then, as if by a miracle, Creon’s fingers twitched.

“He-he’s alive!”

“Okay, I’m on it!”

In a flurry, Lara scrambled to search under the cabinet. To her astonishment, there really was a first aid kit.

Sitting next to Creon, Lara began rummaging through the kit. It contained bandages, an unfamiliar salve, tweezers, gauze, and various other items, but she wasn’t sure which to use.

Pulling out a bandage, Lara started wrapping Creon’s head without much finesse. She squeezed tightly, trying to staunch the bleeding. In her clumsy efforts, Creon’s hair sprang up in disarray, making his forehead look exaggerated.

‘Is style even important right now?!’

Had she known, she would have used a fashionable bandage instead. Lara gave a self-deprecating chuckle as Creon’s golden eyebrows twitched—a sign of his remarkably quick recovery, true of a dragon.

‘Huh? Why not…?’

‘T-then what do I do?!’

While Lara fumbled in panic, Creon half-opened his eyes and slowly raised his head.

The moment their eyes met, Lara instinctively struck him on the head with her grasped hand. With a dull sound, Creon’s body crumpled once more.

‘Aaaahhh!’

Fortunately, no blood was spilt this time, but Lara could feel fear creeping up inside her. As her shaking intensified, a low set of footsteps resounded outside the door.

“I just heard something in here… Hey! What’s going on?!”

No sooner had a knight entered the room than he shouted. Surrounded by pools of blood streaming on the floor, a collapsed man, and a woman with trembling hands—just then, the woman spun around and yelled.

“Quickly!! Someone bring Lady Elina immediately!!”

In the midst of the frantic outcry, the knight, clearly unsure of the situation, bolted out to search for Lady Elina. Meanwhile, Lara, with drooping shoulders and wavering eyes, couldn’t take her gaze off Creon.

‘I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry…’

Every time she reopened his eyes, only to see him lapse back into unconsciousness, her heart ached with cruelty. She despised the numbness creeping over her hands. After repeating this cycle about five times, the door burst open—and in stepped either Elina II or Elina III, whom she had been dying to see.

“Lara? What on earth is happening here?”

“I found her, but where did she disappear to?!”

“Wait, I’m just heading to the restroom.”

‘Don’t you realize we’ve been kidnapped…?’

Casting a confused glance at Elina II, Lara then spoke urgently once more.

“Anyway, I’m glad you’re here. Come quickly and take a look at this person!”

Like a team of medics scrambling to save a critical patient, Elina II glanced at the blood-spattered bandage and murmured, “To think they’d stoop so low… those slave traders.” Lara quietly looked away.

“Silpid, come out if you can hear my voice.”

As if the dark sorcery binding them had loosened, a sudden whirlwind filled the room. Shortly thereafter, Elina II’s murmuring resumed.

“Heal this person thoroughly, and then either capture those slave traders or turn them into something like this. No, that won’t do—I’ve got my own plans. Just help me out this one time! Damn it, there’s dust in my eyes! Ah, alright. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry!”

To any onlooker, Lara’s behavior would have signaled an urgent need for psychiatric help. Had the Spirit King just finished talking? Suddenly, a gust of wind swept through the room, wrapping around Creon’s head. The bandage slowly unwound and seeped into the gaps.