Loriel jolted backward, startled as the door suddenly swung open. Her heart hamred against her ribs as Leon and Seraphine stepped into the hallway.
Leon’s eyes imdiately locked onto her disheveled appearance. "Loriel? What are you doing standing outside our door?"
"I-It’s nothing!" Loriel blurted out, her voice pitching higher than intended. "I just woke up. Thought I’d... wait for you both. That’s all."
Leon and Seraphine exchanged a glance. The dark circles under Loriel’s eyes told a completely different story. Her skin looked pale, and exhaustion clung to her like a heavy cloak.
She’s lying, Leon thought, but he didn’t press. Whatever had kept her awake wasn’t sothing she wanted to share.
Seraphine simply raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
"Are you ready to go?" Leon asked, keeping his tone light.
Loriel nodded hurriedly, relief flooding through her. "Yes! Completely ready. Let’s go."
Thank god they didn’t ask more questions.
They made their way downstairs to the reception area. The sa black haired woman from last night stood behind the counter, her professional smile already in place.
"Good morning," she greeted warmly, her eyes lingering on Leon just a mont too long.
"Good morning," Leon replied politely.
He paused, considering. She seed friendly enough, and locals always knew their cities best. This could be useful.
"Excuse , could you recomnd a good restaurant nearby? Sowhere the locals eat?"
The receptionist’s smile widened, genuine enthusiasm lighting up her features. "Oh, absolutely! There’s a wonderful place called The Harvest Table just three streets east of here. The food is excellent, and the prices are reasonable. Very popular with residents."
"Thank you," Leon said. Then, as if the thought had just occurred to him, he added casually, "Also, are there any libraries in this city? We’re interested in doing so research while we’re here."
The receptionist didn’t find the question strange at all. Her mind imdiately jumped to conclusions.
A researcher. That makes sense.
Researchers were common in the city and highly respected. They earned more than even four-star adventurers, and their work was considered prestigious. The two won with him must be assistants or slaves—perfectly normal for a renowned scholar to have.
Her respect for him climbed even higher.
"Yes, we have two libraries in Conan City," she said helpfully. "The larger one is the Grand Archive, located in the northern district near the administrative buildings. The smaller one is the Scholar’s Haven in the eastern quarter, closer to the residential areas. The Grand Archive has more resources, but Scholar’s Haven is quieter if you prefer a peaceful environnt."
Leon committed both locations to mory, along with the city’s na.
Conan City. At least now I know where we are.
"Thank you for your help," Leon said with genuine gratitude.
The receptionist bead. "My pleasure. Enjoy your stay in Conan City."
They left the hotel and made their way toward the recomnded restaurant. As they walked, they passed several luxurious establishnts with elaborate facades and well-dressed patrons entering and exiting.
Leon felt tempted to try one of those high-end places—he certainly had the money for it. But he decided to trust the receptionist’s recomndation. She knew her city better than he did.
The Harvest Table appeared before them—a modest building with warm lighting spilling from its windows. The mont they stepped inside, the aroma of seasoned at and fresh bread hit them like a wave. Conversation buzzed throughout the packed interior, nearly every table occupied by locals enjoying their als.
They found an empty corner table and settled in. A nu sat waiting, listing only six items with nas Leon didn’t recognize at all.
Ember-Braised Rockbeast? Crystal Lake Fillet? What are these?
A waitress approached their table—a young woman with brown hair tied back in a practical style, wearing a simple dress and an apron. She looked no older than seventeen.
"What can I get for you?" she asked with a practiced smile.
Leon glanced at the nu again and made a decision. "We’re new to the area. Could you recomnd sothing you think we’d enjoy?"
For just a fraction of a second, the waitress’s pupils dilated. A subtle reaction, barely noticeable—but Leon caught it.
What was that about?
His guard went up imdiately, though he kept his expression neutral and friendly.
The waitress’s smile never faltered. "Of course. I’ll bring you a selection of our most popular dishes."
She left, and Leon’s mind turned over that strange reaction.
Did I say sothing wrong? Or reveal sothing I shouldn’t have?
Minutes later, the waitress returned with multiple plates balanced expertly on a tray. She set them down carefully—steaming portions of at glazed with sothing savory, roasted vegetables that looked almost jewel-like, and bread that slled like heaven itself.
Leon took a tentative bite, and his eyebrows rose in surprise.
This is incredible.
The flavor was complex, perfectly balanced, better than anything he’d eaten in the lower domain. Even better than the personal chefs at the estates he’d lived in.
Seraphine’s expression softened with pleasure as she ate, clearly enjoying every bite.
Loriel, however, attacked her food like a starving beast. She tore into the al with desperate hunger, barely pausing to breathe between bites.
When was the last ti she ate? Leon wondered. Right—she didn’t eat anything yesterday when we traveled.
She must have been famished.
They finished their al in comfortable silence, savoring the quality of the food and the warm atmosphere of the restaurant.
The sa waitress returned to their table, a small wooden tablet in hand. "That will be fifteen silver coins."
Leon reached into his pouch and pulled out a gold coin, placing it in her palm. "Keep the rest for yourself. We really enjoyed the food."
The waitress stared at the gold coin, confusion flickering across her face.
Travelers are definitely rare. But this is... strange.
Foreigners were one thing. Rich foreigners were another. But giving a tip directly to a slave? That was unusual. And the way he spoke—so polite, so respectful—as if she were a person rather than property.
He must not be from anywhere near here.
"Sir," she said carefully, "I appreciate the gesture, but this should go to the owner."
Leon frowned slightly. "No, I’m giving it to you. For your service, not the owner’s."
The waitress raised her right hand, holding it out so the black bracelet around her wrist was clearly visible. The tal glead dully in the restaurant’s light.
"I don’t know where you’re from, mister," she said gently, "but I can’t accept your money. Can’t you see this?"
Leon stared at the bracelet, not understanding its significance. It looked like ordinary jewelry to him.
But Loriel’s eyes widened in recognition. She imdiately interjected, her voice soft but firm. "Oh, we understand. Thank you for explaining."
The waitress nodded and left their table, taking the gold coin with her—presumably to deliver it to the owner.
Once she was out of earshot, Loriel leaned closer and whispered urgently. "That girl is a slave. The bracelet she wore is a slave bracelet."
The words hit Leon and Seraphine like cold water.
A slave.
Everything clicked into place. The subtle reaction when he’d asked for a recomndation—she’d realized they were foreigners unfamiliar with local customs. The confusion when he tried to tip her—because slaves couldn’t own property or accept paynt.
Leon’s jaw tightened. He’d known intellectually that slavery would exist in this world. Magic, monsters, and dieval-style kingdoms practically guaranteed it. But encountering it so casually, so openly, in just the middle domain?
His having the ability to make slaves was very different from slaves being so common in this domain.
It left a bitter taste in his mouth.
I thought those bracelets were just fashion accessories.
He rembered seeing them throughout the city as they’d walked. On servers in shops. On workers sweeping streets. On attendants in various establishnts.
There are slaves everywhere here.
Seraphine’s expression had gone carefully neutral, but her eyes carried a dangerous edge. She didn’t comnt, but Leon knew that look. She was filing this information away, processing its implications.
Loriel looked uncomfortable, her fingers fidgeting with her tunic. She’d recognized the bracelet imdiately, which ant slavery was common knowledge in the higher domain.
Leon stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. "Let’s go."
They left The Harvest Table in tense silence, stepping back into the bustling streets of Conan City.
The sun had risen higher now, warming the morning air. People moved about their business—rchants calling out prices, workers transporting goods, children running through the crowds. Normal city life, unremarkable and ordinary.
Except now Leon saw the bracelets. They were everywhere, marking perhaps one in every fifteen people they passed.
How did I not notice this before?
They walked for twenty minutes, navigating streets that grew progressively more organized and impressive. The buildings here were taller, constructed with finer materials. Well-dressed individuals moved with purpose, carrying docunts or engaged in serious conversations.
The northern district. The administrative area that the receptionist had ntioned.
And there, rising before them like a monunt to knowledge itself, stood the Grand Archive.
The building was massive—easily eight stories tall, constructed from pale stone that seed to glow in the sunlight. Massive columns flanked the entrance, carved with intricate symbols and patterns. Wide steps led up to enormous double doors that stood open, inviting scholars and researchers inside.
People entered and exited in steady streams—so carrying books, others engaged in animated discussions, all bearing the focused expressions of those pursuing knowledge.
Leon stopped at the base of the steps, tilting his head back to take in the full scope of the structure.
This is it. The answers I need are in there.
Seraphine stood beside him, her hand finding his naturally. Her eyes scanned the building with tactical assessnt, noting guards positioned discreetly near the entrance and the quality of security enchantnts shimring faintly around the periter.
Loriel stared up at the Grand Archive with wide eyes, exhaustion montarily forgotten in the face of such architectural magnificence.
The three of them stood there at the threshold, the weight of their journey settling over them like a cloak.
This was why they’d co. This was where their real work would begin.
Leon took a deep breath and started climbing the steps.
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