As Anthony pondered his next move, Arielle halted ahead and turned to speak.
"Mage, five hundred paces to the left lies Menzoberranzan's largest—and only—Slave Market. There, you may haggle with the slavers for a fair price… Now, I must take my sister to rest."
Hearing the priestess's intent to part ways, Anthony was more than willing. Without unnecessary courtesy, he gave a curt nod and turned away. The sheer rudeness of the gesture made the young drow priestess seethe.
No manners, wretched mage. I'll deal with you when time allows.
Five hundred paces meant little to an adventuring party that had trekked for three days. Soon, the clamor of the Slave Market rose before them.
"Bugbears! Bugbears! The strongest, most obedient bugbears in all the Underdark! Fifty gold coins each—ten or more, take your pick!"
Anthony studied the merchandise. The bugbears were indeed young and sturdy, yet the slaver's business was poor. Most drow had gathered at the stall across from his.
"Minotaur warriors from distant kingdoms! A single one can slay five bugbears with ease—yours for just five hundred gold coins!"
Anthony glanced over. Why such an inflated price, yet so many onlookers?
The claim that one minotaur could effortlessly kill five bugbears was absurd… yet minotaurs were more tractable and harder-working. Properly trained and outfitted with heavy gear, handling five foes wouldn't be impossible—after all, no one wasted heavy weapons on bugbears, mere cannon fodder in the civil wars.
With their height, reach, and brute strength, an elite minotaur warrior could indeed threaten even drow when properly equipped. But such slaves were worth, at most, two to three hundred gold. This markup was outrageous.
Anthony looked closer. Ah, clever. The slaver's pitch was just a gimmick to draw the crowd.
Two Ragged Drow Females wearing Slave Brand were seen caressing the Minotaur's thighs with seductive smiles on their faces. The Minotaur was obviously unable to resist and his eyes were red. As the Drow Female's techniques became more and more precise, the indescribable thing under the Minotaur Warrior became thicker and thicker, and the Drow Females watching around were also very satisfied, with evil and obscene smiles on their faces.
Anthony thought to himself, These drow really have typical drow tastes—no surprise for a perverted race that worships demons.
But this was nothing. As a righteous young man, Anthony couldn't help but look down on these drow females for their lack of sophistication.
Laughing over a minotaur's… equipment? If I showed off mine, you'd probably faint from excitement.
Bunch of backwater bumpkins from the Underdark, Anthony scoffed inwardly.
The halt in their teammates' progress piqued the little witch's curiosity, but her short stature kept her from seeing what was happening ahead. "Master, what's going on? Something fun?"
Ignoring her protests, Anthony covered her eyes with his hand. "Don't look, kid. You'll get nightmares. Let's keep moving."
Things got more normal after that.
"Duergar! Master miners! Master smiths! Only 300 gold coins per duergar!"
Seeing these sturdy dwarven slaves, Anthony felt a flicker of temptation.
Unlike hill dwarves or mountain dwarves, duergar—though selfish, evil, and not particularly obedient—were an Underdark race that could be enslaved.
As long as their master was powerful enough, duergar usually resigned themselves to their fate, obediently mining and smithing for generations.
This was why many great dragons preferred duergar as slaves. Anthony's own mother had plenty of them mining wealth for her.
Once, as a bored child, Anthony had chatted with a duergar chieftain about slavery. The dwarf spoke frankly.
"If your fists aren't as big as your master's, being enslaved is just how it goes. Compared to some real bastards down here, your glorious mother is downright generous—just demanding regular quotas of precious metals and gems. The extra ore we smelt and sell lets us buy food and ale. If we're lucky, we even get a few days off a month. Masters like that are rare in this world."
Young Anthony was shocked. "That counts as good?"
The duergar chieftain rubbed the hand-rolled cigarette between his fingers and sighed helplessly: "It's really good now. We duergar were once enslaved by those terrifying Underdark races. Compared to that, this is like heaven and hell."
"Those bastards didn't just take the wealth we created—they raped our minds too. They stripped us of everything we built, then forced us to sing praises to those squid-faced tyrants. And if we didn't grovel fast enough, they'd accuse us of scheming against them. Absolutely monstrous!"
Unlike the resigned duergar, hill dwarves and mountain dwarves could never accept a fate of generational enslavement. When captured in battle, they'd either find a way to escape or choose death over enduring long-term torment.
Watching these spirited duergar, Anthony couldn't help but feel a little tempted.
Problem was, they were too expensive. Maybe if they were 90% off, he'd consider it.
Ah, forget it. Better to just grab a few later when he dug a proper lair.
Anthony much preferred the idea of getting them for free.
Further ahead, the Slave Market reached its end. In the last open-air stall, a handful of drow lingered as spectators.
Anthony paused when he saw the items for sale.
There was an enormous egg.
Yep. A dragon egg.
"Black dragon egg! Fresh from the lair of Rakor, the mighty black dragon who rules the upper layers just 200 miles east! No need to wait 300 years—not even 100! In just 50 years, you'll have a powerful young black dragon at your command! Only 3,000 gold coins, and this black dragon egg could be yours! One of a kind—don't hesitate!"
Though the little witch couldn't understand the drow merchant's words, his animated tone and exaggerated gestures gave her the right idea. "Master, is he selling a dragon egg?"
"Yep," Anthony replied offhandedly. "Let's move on. Nothing special about it."
But the little witch couldn't tear herself away, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "How is this not special? It's a dragon egg! If it hatches, I could have a giant dragon as a pet! No more broom-riding—people would call me the Dragon-Riding Witch!"
Anthony couldn't help but chuckle at her naivety. "Dragon eggs aren't that rare. Find a lair, and you'll usually stumble on a few."
"Second, they're not birds. Proud and cunning dragonkin don't just imprint on whoever they see first. Only those dragon-riding fools are that stupid."
"Lastly, this is a black dragon egg. Among the five-colored dragons, they're middling at best—just sneaky enough to survive on their evil wits."
"And even if it did bond with you, it'd take 50 years to be useful and a full century to reach adulthood. Who knows if you'd even still be around by then?"
Lolo fumed at his words. Who just casually predicts someone's death like that? She pursed her lips. "I'm destined to be a legendary witch! A mere century is nothing. The title of Dragon-Riding Witch is mine for the taking! But… I don't have the coin right now. Maybe next time."
Anthony glanced sideways at the little witch's decidedly unimpressive chest and sighed in pity. "Dragon-riding isn't that hard. But with your current… assets, you might need a few more years."
The little witch didn't get the implication, assuming he was mocking her for daydreaming beyond her skill. Furious, she stomped her little leather shoes so hard they clicked sharply—making Anthony's gaze drop lower.
Hmm… Maybe not that long?
Exhaling deeply to steady himself, Anthony moved to the back of the group, motioning for everyone to step aside. Then, projecting his voice, he bellowed:
"Surface-dwellers! Fresh surface-dwellers! I've got Tyr's archbishop's illegitimate child, a devil lord's new lover, a qi-condensing goblin, and a highborn human noble! Take a look, don't miss out!"
When it came to bullshitting, Anthony was a true professional.