Inside my cramped carriage, the smell of blood began to seep through.

  Before me lay the stiff body of Slave Number 4, thrown by the Titan, and beside him, the unconscious tiger Beastwoman.

  Is anyone curious about how I feel right now?

  If so, to be honest, I'm still terrified.

  My heart hasn't stopped pounding from the shock. But life must go on—at least that's what my philosophy teacher used to say back at the academy.

  Ah, I miss my academy life. Stable. Peaceful.

  Was my decision to become a Lesser Vow Knight a disaster? And what in the world are these slaves, really?

  I'd seen many slaves in the capital, but none this extreme. Just imagine: There are 2 young Warlords, 3 ferocious Beastmen, 6 Half-Elves, and 14 ordinary Humans.

  Why did the palace give me 6 Half-Elves? Did they expect me to cure boredom and indulge my desires with them? They claimed these were bodyguards.

  And what about those Warlord kids? I recall the adult Warlords brought by high-ranking nobles during my academy days were far stronger and more intimidating. Am I also supposed to "recreate" with those children?

  And most haunting of all... this vow's power.

  Why, when I cut the Line on that Titan monster, did its flesh physically sever? But when I cut the Line on that Beastwoman earlier... my sword didn't cut her soul, but instead severed something else? Something that unleashed her wild emotions?

  I need to find answers.

  I can't experiment on my own guards. The risk is too great. I need to find another test subject. I need to buy an experimental slave.

  Lost in my turbulent thoughts, we arrived at the gates of Villa del Río Alto.

  The gate guards here had fierce faces, covered in scars. But their stares made me uncomfortable. They weren't looking at me—they kept glaring at my slaves with sparkling eyes, as if my slaves were priceless chunks of crystal.

  Near the Forest, Bandit Hideout

  "Boss! Boss! We hit a diamond falling from the sky, Boss! There's an Espinas Mortals corpse in the forest!" reported a breathless underling.

  The bandit boss didn't immediately rejoice. His face tensed, turning pale. "How many casualties on our side?"

  "Only five dead, Boss."

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  "How is that possible?!" The Bandit Boss's eyes widened in shock, cold sweat beading on his temples. "Check our men's bodies! Are there any strangely mutated corpses? Like having four arms, growing flesh wings, or legs shifting to eyes?"

  He knew the legend. Killing a Titan required immense power. And immense power was often linked to the cursed Vow of Gabriel.

  He didn't want his crew infected by the "Mutation Plague."

  "None, Boss. Their bodies are normal," his underling answered confidently.

  The Boss's previously tense face instantly transformed into a wide, greedy grin.

  Fear of Gabriel's curse vanished instantly.

  "Good! Then let's go there quickly! Because this really is a diamond falling from the sky! We'll take the hide, the horn, and both the left and right hearts—and we'll be rich HAHAHAHA!"

  Back at the City Gate

  "Are all of them your slaves, Sir?" asked the fierce-faced guard, peeking into the carriage.

  "Yes," I replied curtly, finding the question irrelevant.

  The guard grinned at his colleague up in the tower. "Oi! Open the gate! We've got a super-quality crystal arriving!"

  Crystal? Was he referring to me? Ah, never mind. I didn't care how they looked at me.

  However, upon entering the city, the strangeness intensified. The townspeople's stares were intensely focused. Once again, not at my luxurious carriage, but at my slaves walking beside it.

  Upon reaching the inn, I was initially treated normally.

  Until my slaves entered the lobby carrying luggage.

  Suddenly, the atmosphere grew noisy. People drinking began whispering. Let's call them A, B, and C.

  "Hey, look at that. Must be a new slave trader," said A, not bothering to lower his voice.

  "Yeah, the city lord must have invited him. Especially since he brought 6 Half-Elves at once. Absolutely disgusting," said C, glaring cynically at the 6 Half-Elves moving about.

  "Especially this trader wearing church clothes. So hypocritical," chimed in B.

  "Yeah... yeah. And look over there, there are Beastmen and Warlords too. Absolutely insane. He must be a major trader."

  Haaaaa? City lord? Church clothes? Was there a slave trader in this city disguising himself as a clergy member? And why were they shocked seeing Beastmen and Warlords? Weren't they common races used as manual labor slaves?

  "Young man," the innkeeper whispered to me, "Are you really a slave trader?"

  My patience ran out.

  "Of course not!" I shouted loudly, intentionally so A, B, and C could hear. "I'm a respectable person, not a slave trader!"

  After venting my frustration at being slandered, I quickly went to my room.

  I removed my ceremonial robe and changed into casual clothes to avoid standing out.

  I ordered the slaves to rest at the inn except for the bald, muscular one with the machete.

  We went out to gather information about this strange city, about its ruler, and of course, about slaves I could use for experimentation.

  "Sir Merchant," I asked a street vendor near the square, "Why is this city so strange? Especially people's stares regarding slaves and the city lord?"

  The vendor glanced left and right, then tried to whisper to me.

  "Perfect timing you mention that. Look at that merchant over there," he pointed at a fat man with rings covering his fingers.

  That man was delivering a wooden cart shaped like a perfect box, tightly covered like a cage for wild animals.

  "He's a slave trader. If you're curious, why not follow him?"

  Vaguely, I thought I saw a faint Yardorh Line emanating from that cart.

  In the end, we decided to follow that fat man.

  He led us away from the main road, into narrow, muddy alleys, until we finally reached the city's slum area. That place was utterly disgusting; the stench of urine and garbage was pungent, homeless people slept left and right on the streets with dead eyes.

  We stopped before a heavily guarded building, resembling a place for illegal activity. I was momentarily confused about how to enter.

  But after observing several people entering by slipping silver coins to the guards, I did the same. The door opened.

  Inside, it turned out not to be just an auction room, but an underground slave market. Here, humans and other creatures were displayed like cuts of meat.

  Initially, no Yardorh signs appeared. I walked past rows of cages with an empty heart, until finally...

  Sring.

  A line of light shone brightly in a dark corner of the room. That Line guided me to an iron cage in the corner.

  Inside, huddled, was a strange female slave.

  She had different colored eyes: one blood red, one blazing gold. On her head grew horns—one large and curved, the other small. She had no tail or thick scales like a Warlord, and her body was emaciated, completely lacking the muscles of a Beastman.

  She looked incredibly weak, as if she could die at any moment.

  With my Yardorh-granted power, I saw something familiar. There was a thin line of light binding her neck and wrists. But that Line didn't stop there. That Line stretched high upward, piercing through the slave market's roof.

  That vertical Line was exactly what I had seen—and cut—on the Beastwoman in the forest earlier.

  The girl's gaze was empty, just like my slaves. But seeing her physical uniqueness and that towering Line, I was certain.

  "This is it," I murmured softly. "My test subject."