Chronicles of the Exalted Sun Child

The next day, Yuriko headed to the Adventurers’ Guildhall and paid a silver coin to access the spell book library. The spell Endure Environment was a three-circle spell and required thirty nodes to cast. It was a spell that made extreme temperatures, like the desert’s, feel normal to the caster. Yuriko paid a gold coin to get a copy of the scroll.

The problem with the spell was that it was self-cast, and Fluffington was not a Magus. She searched for a version that allowed someone to cast it on others, or even on multiple people at once. Unfortunately, it turned out to be a seven-circle spell and was unavailable in Boata Port. So her plan was for Ryoko and Heron to learn it, then she’d try to modify it to cast on Fluffington. Failing that, Gwendith could always keep her temperature barrier around the pupper.

Well, she only took a couple of hours to memorise and cast the spell, so by midmorning, she left the guild hall and wandered around the port town. She spread her Anima perception briefly and ascertained her route and she headed towards the town square, which was the only open space big enough to hold a gathering. She kept the cowl of her robes over her head and face, obscuring her visage. Her clothes were voluminous enough to cover her figure and here, she was just another body in the crowd. The early morning was not much cooler than noon, but the denizens filled the streets. Most were headed towards the market streets, of which there were two, north and south, both near the docks. The Golden Fleece was towards the northern half of the town, so she crossed over to the southern side to get a feel for Boata Port in its entirety.

Well, the layout of the streets and the style of the architecture was a mirror of the north, but it somehow felt shabbier and more worn out. Last night, the winds had shifted to blow from the desert, and the town’s cobblestone roads were caked in sand. The grains were coarse and stuck to sweat. Thankfully, she wasn’t in anyway bothered by it since she had a layer of condensed Anima over her body, Not on her robes though, as too clean a garment would stand out too much. She wiggled her toes in her sandals and wondered if she should wear boots instead so as not to give away the game. Her palazzo pants covered her feet more often than not, and she somewhat understood Damien’s preference for the garment. It was really comfortable and it hid the shape of her legs.

Still, for some reason, she drew gazes wherever she walked. She had forced herself to alter her stride so that her hips didn’t sway as much. But even so, her robes should have concealed that, right? Well, whatever.

She ended up spending the day in leisure. She refined her Anima all the time now, doing it a little bit within her body instead of the entire thing at once. She only had to dedicate a couple of strands of consciousness to do it, and she could keep up her perception and her condensed Anima at the same time. It was ten times slower than if she focused, or maybe the efficiency was even worse, but at least she could do other things while refining. Several days of the same thing were starting to get to her, especially when they were in a new and exotic place.

When she wandered into the southern market, she was met with mounds of ground spice of different colours, from green, yellow, and red, then to orange, violet, and dark browns. The breeze swirled particles off the mounds, and she was sure the vendors lost several IJins of the stuff just because the display didn’t protect it against the winds. But that was probably why dozens of shoppers congregated near the spices. The locals probably were used to the spice and needed a stronger dose to really taste and smell it. Yuriko’s nose itched, but she went up to the vendor and asked about the spices. She ended up filling several vials of different coloured spices, and she was sure it would make the ration bar stew all the better.

She half expected that the town had tunnels underneath, but because they were close to the water, anything underneath must flood with the tide. If there were no tunnels occupied, where did the town’s seedy underbelly lie?

She could find out easily, she could perceive everything within her reach after all, but it would be obvious. At the point when her perception was hidden, the only thing she could really feel through it were presences. Fat lot of good that would do her.

But still…she frowned she just noticed now, but the presences…actually had distinct colours. And those colours carried emotional undertones.

Most were a placid light green, but there were more than enough dark blues, fiery reds, and drab browns.

That merchant she just brought the spices from was a subdued yellow. She was happy that Yuriko purchased quite a bit of her produce, it was only the normal amount.

Curious.

Her perception and focus went to the warehouse where the slaves brought in were kept. Unfortunately, the wards still prevented her from peering inside, not without alerting the Magi inside. Late last night, she’d perused the handbook that the guild sold them.

Culturally, Xotha always dealt with slavery. Debtors were enslaved until their contract was repaid. Criminals were similarly enslaved until their sentence was completed. War prisoners became war slaves, and unless their nation paid for their ransom, they remained as such unless they earned merits and glory for their owners.

But, there were seven Prime Clans who ruled the Matriarchy, and seven cities named after those clans. Herrera Clan practised all forms of slavery, while the Mondero Clan did not.

Mondero. Laura? She wondered if that adventurer had been from that clan, and was there a reason why she had to leave Bresia so urgently?

Well, her once disciple had already cut ties with her, but Yuriko couldn’t help but think of her now, considering this was Laura’s homeland. Well, not Boata Port and the nearby Herrera City.

She hadn't read the entire booklet yet, but she skimmed the policies of each clan and found out that it was only the Mondero that didn’t condone slavery. Unfortunately, the issue wasn’t just with this country. There were two other nations that bordered the Sandsea Desert that practised it.

“It’s a blatant attempt to paint themselves in a better light,” Yuriko muttered to herself. Personally, she had little opinion on the subject. The Eternal Empire didn’t do anything like that, but the Xylarchy somewhat did. And of the Coalition of Independent Planes, they were a melting pot of cultures so she wouldn’t be surprised if some of them practiced it.

Looking at it another way, the slaves of Xotha were being put to better use than being relegated to prison, but it all depended on how the slaves were treated by their owners.

A few memories within Damien unfolded within her mind too, and she realised that he had also encountered it and simply accepted it as the way things worked. He had better ways to ensure loyalty among his troops, even war prisoners. The Conqueror’s charisma was such that he could get them to follow him if he actually deigned to talk to them. He stopped doing so after he reached a higher level of power, simply because foot soldiers weren’t all that useful at that point.

So what was her stance? Gwendith, because of her experiences with the Northern Barbarians, absolutely loathed the idea. And…

Hmmm, wasn’t that a good enough reason to oppose? Her beloved Gwendith hated it, and she knew that the woman held herself back in consideration of Yuriko’s circumstances here. But what was power if she refused to use it? Worthless, right?

But just because she found this determination didn’t mean she had to act on it immediately. She didn’t fancy having an entire country after her, not when there was already one doing so. What could she do?

Should she go in the night and release them? Where would they go? Besides, two types of slaves were those in debt and those who were criminals. In other words, they probably deserved what they got. It was the slaves that were war prisoners that Yuriko pitied, and Gwendith sympathised with.

She also couldn’t just upend a nation’s culture, right? Or was she just making excuses for herself? These trains of thought felt a bit foreign to her, and Yuriko would not have had those thoughts back when she was younger. In fact, the complicated moral dilemmas only started bothering her after Damien died and his memories and experiences transferred over to her consciousness…

Wait.

Had she been stained by Damien’s thought patterns to a greater extent than she expected? Since she was assimilating his memories, the influence was inevitable. But when had she become so arrogant as to dismissively tell someone to go home after they attacked her and she defeated them?

Why had she allowed her foes to attack her at Will, and why did she do nothing but let them come at her? The Guardian, those three foes that ambushed her, and that elusive Magus…

Damien enjoyed toying with his foes. He enjoyed giving them hope only to crush them. He was the Conqueror, but he didn’t like his battles to end so easily.

Meanwhile, she remembered her fights before Damien came into her life. She ended things as soon as she could because that was how her Da taught her to do. Wyldlings had to be put down lest they harm the populace.

It was a bit distressing…but, finishing things too quickly really was boring.

Yuriko stopped in the middle of the road abruptly and caused the person walking a few steps behind her to hurriedly dodge. She ignored the profanities the woman yelled at her, and even when that one tried to grab her shoulder, she simply bounced the hand off with her Anima. She shook her head and continued her stroll, not even bothering to apologise.

She knew Damien was arrogant. He practically oozed it. But the thing was…there was a thin line between arrogance and self-confidence. Evidently, Damien could back up his confidence with his abilities. Could she do the same? If she kept toying with her foes, could it not end up in regrets when something she didn’t anticipate happened to those she cared about?

Introspection was something she always had to do, but in the furore of the accident that led them here, in the excitement of finding a place that was so different from home, and the thirst for new knowledge and power that Arcana Weaving represented, Yuriko had been too preoccupied to do so.

Well, she had to do it now lest her actions spawn calamities. After all, the entirety of the Shattered Realm, its cause and effects, could probably be laid at Damien’s feet. He crossed the line between confidence and arrogance and it blew up in his face.

Well, not that she knew the nitty gritty details, anyway.

But what was she to do? Battles against foes who gave her enough of a challenge didn’t come often, and when they did, she didn’t want to end it so soon. And since most of those who gave her a challenge were those above her in Anima level, she couldn’t just use her Mien to command them to keep them around. Her Mien had trouble affecting people like that. Well, maybe it did now, huh?

So what to do with the slaves? She didn’t want to act now in the middle of the town, but… if they were to be transported, they were likely to head towards Herrera City.

And perhaps there would be a chance on that road.