Chapter 520 - Their Culture
The warship slowed to a stop at the port, their presence quickly attracted the attention of the villagers.
The warriors walked to the edge of the ship and jumped down before walking across the wooden port. One by one, they stood in line. Then a warrior who appeared to wear a slightly different outfit came forward.
"We came in the name of Jarl Haraldson to seek Torstein the Mighty!"
The man next to Emery looked at the source of the voice, giving an answer to his unspoken question. Hesitation flashed across Torstein's face for a second, but then, he came forward with confident steps. There was no trace of any worry when he spoke.
The man in uniform instantly recognized Torstein and gave a gesture of respect. The two exchanged a few words and, after a short talk, the JomVikings went back to the boat and sailed away.
As the ship got further and further away, Emery mulled over what he had heard from the conversation with his enhanced hearing. He heard something about a call of arms from the Jarl and Torstein was summoned to bring with him a ship full of men for war. After Torstein agreed with the terms, the JomVikings quickly left.
"The Jarl wished for our presence on the battlefield!" Torstein announced and surprisingly for Emery, it was met with cheers from the adoring villagers.
"Finally, a war!" A bare-chested muscled man shouted.
"I promise I will bring back some gold for us!"
"Maybe we can all bring home a slave to help all around here!"
The whole village was excited at the prospect of an incoming war. However, Emery also noticed the pensive look on Torstein's face. He raised his eyebrows in silent question and Torstein approached Emery before explaining.
"I apologize, I cannot be a good host to you anymore, as we will be busy preparing."
Emery nodded, he could understand that whatever this war was, it took precedence over his problems. But, he noticed Torstein didn't share in the festive atmosphere. Out of curiosity, he decided to ask for the reason.
"They…" Torstein shook his head and cast a weary gaze on the happy villagers. "Our culture truly held wars in high regard, but they are still green. They do not yet understand the terrors they will face in war. I can't help but worry for them."
Torstein added that no villagers would avoid the chance to attain glory in the battlefield. If by some chance one village would refuse, the Jarl would punish the village with the cruelest punishment, that was, shame.
Emery saw a lot of the younger people in the village celebrate the war, He also heard Torfinn's wish to grow up quickly so he could take part in the next battle.
Either way, this was part of their culture and it would not be wise to interfere. Emery decided to say his farewells and leave the village.
He had spent too much time there, so he decided to use [Spatial Gate] to teleport along the shores of the village. By the next morning, he found the place he was looking for.
Bergen City.
Bergen City was a large town built next to a bay that harbored dozens of ships. Even from afar crowds of ships waiting to dock could be seen. Thanks to the thriving sea travel, the market along the streets was thriving as well.
His first impression was that the place definitely looked messier than Lionarch City, the first trading hub city he ever visited. Yet, it was also livelier. Laughter and conversations followed the roads. Everywhere he looked, there were people with various clothes and talking in various languages.
The markets flooded into the edges of the streets, as well. Dozens of shops offering food, drinks, gems, or even luxurious clothing all try to hawk their goods to interested passerby. Among the market lining the streets of Bergen City, Emery saw an unusual sight.
A slave market.
He took a peek. A crowd of people sitting on a tarp each carrying signs. On the makeshift wooden stage, there were dozens of men, women and children each being chained.
It was nothing new. Months ago, he did witness the slave war in Rome and even Luna was also in the business of buying slaves to employ them. However, it was the first time he saw a slave market auction being conducted this openly.
He took a closer look at the slaves and realized they were mostly from Briton, with some coming from Germania and Gaul.
Their wrists and ankles were reddened from the pull of the chains, whip lashes could be seen littering their skin.
Emery barely managed to restrain the urge to topple over the building right then and there. While it would have been justified, he had no way to deal with the aftermath and he couldn't act rashly in the middle of an unknown city.
He looked around, took out his pouch from the [Spatial Storage] while no one was looking and counted the amount of coins he had saved up.
As he rarely bought anything and had much profit from his potion selling, he luckily had enough to buy all the slaves. He entered with the jingling coin pouch and immediately proceeded to mop up the floor with the other auction participants, shocking them into silence.
In the end, he was given a long chain of several meters with the slaves being tied along the length of the chain like livestock. Right as he saw their eyes, Emery realized he might have failed to think this through.
Right now, he had two dozen slaves on his hand and no idea of what to do with them all.
He decided to take them to a corner of the city and thought about setting them free. But when he touched the chains on their wrists, their eyes widened in fear. Even as he did nothing, their eyes were empty, their defiance long beaten out of them.
When he was thinking about what to do, he saw the town guard approach.
"Halt!"
Well, he couldn't exactly fault the town guard, as his actions looked extremely suspicious. If he made the wrong move, this situation might escalate into a huge mess.
Left with no options, he decided to show a scroll with a certain marking on it. It was something King Fjolnir gave to him to see the Jari.
The guard took the scroll and carefully looked at the seal before nodding and gesturing for Emery to follow.
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Written by Avans, Published exclusively by W.e.b.n.o.v..e.l,