Path To Godhood Begins With Marrying Wife And Gaining SSS Rank Skill Chapter 390:From Now On,We Are Yours

The secret guards and the auctioneer tried to resist, but the Order of the Eternal Blades were not easy opponents. Their movents were sharp and disciplined. They struck together, covered one another, and gave no room for counterattack.

If that was not enough, hidden among the guests were mbers of the Black Thorns, disguised as ordinary patrons. The mont chaos began, they moved from the shadows and struck from behind. In only a short ti, the resistance inside the tent was crushed.

At the end, surrounded by Advanced rank guards, Herion walked forward calmly. His steps were steady. His eyes moved slowly across the room, especially toward the won who had been serving drinks earlier.

He gave a gentle smile, but in their eyes it looked like a devil's smirk. Fear replaced their earlier playfulness.

Herion walked toward the auctioneer and squatted in front of him.

"You were shouting about so backer," Herion said, rubbing his chin. "Why don't you tell about them?"

The man on the ground gritted his teeth and glared at Herion with hatred.

"You don't know whom you provoked," he said through bloodied lips. "He is not just any noble. He belongs to a powerful family."

"It is the Ambrose Family. And there is still the Adventurer Guild…"

"The Adventurer Guild decided to forgive you for your insolence, but next ti—"

"Stuff his lips and beat him," Herion said flatly.

"Uwwmmph!" The guards shoved cloth into the man's mouth and began striking him.

"You think you are a big shot," one guard muttered while hitting him.

"The Ambrose Family and the Adventurer Guild might be strong, but you are not."

Herion waved his hand, clearly too lazy to hear more. He had already heard what he needed. The rest would be handled by his father.

He stood up and took a deep breath while looking around.

For a mont, mories flashed in his mind. The first ti he had seen slave traders with his brother. Back then he was too young to understand everything, but that day had changed him.

Inside the Blanks' territory he had been protected. He had not seen the dirt of the world. But after his brother began working outside, Herion followed secretly and saw the truth.

His world had felt like it was burning.

He often wondered how his father dealt with all this filth and still stayed calm. Every day there were cris, sches, and hidden conspiracies.

"Haa… Why can't everyone just live in peace instead of wasting ti doing all kinds of stupid things," he muttered.

A guard stepped forward. "Young Lord, what should we do with the slaves?"

"Untie them and arrange them. I am going to take a look," Herion replied.

Soon the chains were removed. The captives were helped to stand in rows. They looked confused and afraid.

Herion walked onto the stage where the auction had been held. There were around a thousand people here, and likely more in other places.

He took a deep breath.

"I am sure none of you know , so let say it clearly. I am Herion Blanks, son of Baron… sorry, Count Ethan Blanks."

"My father does not allow the selling of slaves. He has fought against it many tis and freed many people."

"As for how you ca here and how hard your lives were, pretending I understand everything would be bullshit. I grew up in comfort, not misery."

The crowd blinked. They had expected noble words, not blunt honesty.

"In the end, I can offer two choices," Herion continued, raising two fingers.

"First choice. We give you so money and you are free to go wherever you want. But do not cry later and shout my na if you cannot protect yourself."

So guards twitched their lips.

Young Lord… aren't you being too casual?

Herion looked around again and raised his hand.

"Second choice."

"Our Blanks territory is growing fast and we need people to live there. You can co with to Blank land."

A murmur spread through the group.

Suddenly soone shouted, "You want us to be slaves and work for you. Hypocrites. You are a hypocrite."

Herion did not get angry. He looked at the man and spoke calmly.

Herion looked at the man who had shouted and then slowly turned his head to glance at the others standing around him. He rubbed his temple with two fingers and let out a long breath.

"Does this guy have a faulty mind or what?" Herion asked, tilting his head slightly while squinting at the man as if trying to inspect him.

"If I wanted slaves, I would have left you in chains," he said, spreading his hands wide in disbelief. "Why would I free you and do all this trouble when I could have just dragged you away? Also, if you have so problem, then take the first choice and leave, you maniac."

He pointed toward the exit with a loose flick of his wrist.

"There will be work, yes, and there will be laws, yes. But you will be given the status of citizens and you will have houses," he continued, his tone firm but not cruel.

"You can leave any ti. There are no chains and no brands. But life is not free anywhere. You work and you eat. That is the sa for everyone."

He scratched the back of his head and added, "I am looking for workers, or you can say we are hiring. If you do not want it, then do not co, and get out of here peacefully."

He paused and looked at their tired faces, their thin arms, their hollow eyes.

"I am not here to act like a saint. I am giving you a chance. Take it or leave it."

The tent was silent except for the distant groans of the beaten auctioneer.

After a mont, a woman stepped forward.

"I will take it," she said loudly.

All eyes turned toward her.

She was strikingly beautiful even in her weak state. Her long dark hair fell over her shoulders in ssy waves. Her figure was elegant and curved, and even under the torn cloth she carried herself with natural grace. Dirt stained her skin, but it could not hide her features.

She walked forward and suddenly dropped to her knees in front of Herion.

"You saved my life," she said, lowering her head. "From now on, I am yours."