The Violet Lightning Empress Dons Golden Armor and Dotes on Her Sole Servant - Subjugation of the Underground Auction

The air hung heavy and stagnant. With each step down the spiral staircase leading to the second underground level, the common sense of the surface world faded further away. Victoria Valentine walked silently, her long golden hair swaying against her back as she pressed her feet firmly onto the stone steps. Two sets of footsteps. She and Kuro, walking one step behind her, were the only ones advancing through this darkness. Her golden bikini glowed faintly in the gloom. Light that seemed to melt into her skin traced the contours of her steel-like body. Her waist-length golden hair, a mix of curls and straight strands from the heat of battle, drew complex waves across her back. Her amethyst eyes gleamed sharply, like a cat accustomed to the dark. "The presences are increasing." Her voice was low, clear as ice. "Yes. Ahead is the entrance to Carneo." Kuro answered curtly. His black hair was neatly arranged as always, but the underground humidity had slightly disheveled his bangs, which now fell over his sharp eyes. His narrow black eyes never left Victoria's back for even a moment. The silver earring in his left ear caught the flame of a wall-mounted candelabra, glinting briefly. The two had now passed through the Gray Market on Nevarow's first level and were descending even further. The clamor of the Gray Market was already far behind. The air—a mixture of rot, candle wax, and a faint scent of blood—laid bare the existence of the second underground level. As Kuro surveyed their surroundings, he organized the information in his head. The Blood Auction House, Carneo. Capacity of roughly two hundred. The beastfolk he had seen in the Gray Market would also be put up for auction today. Security was maintained by part of the Durak mercenary brigade and mercenaries hired by the organizer. And— Kuro's gaze touched Victoria's profile for just an instant. *(The mistress, about those beastfolk...)* He did not voice it. He couldn't possibly. Victoria's anger smoldered at a depth beyond his imagination. Kuro had not missed the occasional golden sparks scattering deep within her violet eyes. The staircase ended, and their view opened up. This place might once have been an ancient chapel. The ceiling was high, and through the peeling plaster, the layers of old stone peeked through. Countless candelabras lined the walls, their unsteady flames illuminating the great hall in a reddish-black glow. A crowd of people. Not quite two hundred, but still a considerable number sat surrounding the central auction platform. All wore hoods to hide their faces, numbered paddles in hand. Murmured conversations, occasional shouts of bids. The underground hall was filled with an eerie heat. Victoria stopped for a moment and swept her gaze across the venue. What entered her eyes were people chained beside the auction platform. Beastfolk children. A young woman with deep shadows under her eyes, likely sold for debt. An old man wrapped in a single scrap of cloth. None of their faces held any sign of life. *(...Just like those children.)* Victoria's fingertips went cold, abruptly. The effort of suppressing her emotions manifested as a faint tremor in her shoulders. Only Kuro noticed that tremor. "...Mistress." He hesitated to call out. But he judged that he shouldn't. Right now, she was fighting the anger within herself. If he interfered, that blade might turn toward him. No—that wasn't it. Her anger would never be directed at Kuro. Kuro knew that. And precisely because he knew, he said nothing and simply stood by her side. "Let's go. As buyers." So saying, Victoria pulled her hood down deeper. She hid her golden hair, and only her body—radiating a steel-like brilliance—peeked through the gaps in the cloth. Kuro likewise raised his cloak's collar to conceal his face. The two took seats at the edge of the venue. Immediately, a man who appeared to be a servant approached. He wore a leering grin and rubbed his hands together. A greasy-faced man. "Welcome. Party of two, is it? We've got fine goods lined up today. The young beastfolk are a bit troublesome to discipline, but well, once you get used to them, they're obedient. Yes, very much so." Victoria did not answer; Kuro tossed a silver coin in her stead. The servant's vulgar grin widened as he began explaining the auction. Kuro nodded along half-heartedly and quickly shooed the man away. The auction had already begun. The first to be brought onto the platform was a human girl of about ten. Likely sold as collateral for debt, her emaciated body trembled as she stared at the audience with hollow eyes. A brass collar was fitted around her neck, the chain scraping against the floor with a dry sound. "Fifty rain! Sixty! Seventy! How about it, she's still young. Train her properly and she'll be a fine worker!" The auctioneer was a red-faced man who shouted, spittle flying, his protruding belly swaying. Victoria's throat moved almost imperceptibly. *(This child had parents too. Surely, someone loved her.)* Her fist clenched quietly on her lap. A faint violet electricity leaked from between her fingers. A crackling sound—the air snapping—mixed into the gaps between whispers. Kuro gently placed his own hand over her fist. "Mistress." "I know." Victoria spoke in a voice devoid of emotion. From a cage in the back, a strange noise rang out. The sound of metal scraping. Rough shouting. Then, a young scream. "Quit making a racket!" The men in the audience all turned toward the sound at once. Dragged out of the cage was a beastfolk girl. Between her flaxen hair, two cat-like ears. Around her waist, a fluffy tail. Her gaunt cheeks were smeared with mud, and the rags she wore were torn. Her night-vision eyes—characteristic of beastfolk—were wide with terror, reflecting the firelight. "A Luga brat. Ten years old. Sturdy. An orphan who lost her parents in the war, no relatives. Can be used for labor, and for those who fancy admiring rare ears, she's quite interesting." The girl struggled. Using the physical strength of the beastfolk, she tried to shake off the arms of the man restraining her. But heavy shackles were fitted on her limbs. Each time she resisted, the shackles bit into her flesh, drawing blood. "Let go...! Let go of me!" The girl's scream echoed through the great hall. Laughter rose from the audience. Mocking, amused, vulgar laughter. The men around Victoria also watched the girl with twisted mouths. "Good, good, she's got spirit. A bit of entertainment before the auction." A crude voice. The man next to him clapped, saying, "That's right, that's right." At that moment, the door at the back of the hall opened, and another man appeared. He was an abnormally fat man, the kind that made everyone hold their breath. Someone muttered that he looked like a pig. He wore silk clothing, but it seemed forcibly tailored to his belly, the seams about to burst at any moment. His face shone with grease, and small eyes glittered deep within his fleshy cheeks. Two armed guards flanked him closely. "Haha, everyone, good of you to come again today. I am Garzo, the organizer of Carneo. I see many familiar faces. Today I've prepared special merchandise. I hear there are several Luga brats who lost their parents in that accursed war. And also several commoner girls suffering under debt. Splendid wares." Garzo's voice was murky, as if coated in oil. He approached the beastfolk girl and grabbed her chin, forcing her face upward. "Take a good look. Fine fur. Clear eyes. She's just not used to humans yet. For ones like this, it's best to teach them quickly. Brand them, and they'll understand their place. That's how it works." When Garzo signaled with his finger, one of the guards brought over a branding iron heated red-hot. Carved into its tip was the crest of Garzo's trade name. The smoking iron brand drew closer to the girl's neck. "Stop... please... stop...!" The girl screamed and wept. The other beastfolk in the cage also began crying out, rattling their shackles. The venue filled with their screams and the sadistic laughter of the customers. But. That woman alone was different. Victoria Valentine quietly rose to her feet. Her hood fell away. Her long golden hair, charged with lightning-like light, spread out as if standing on end in the darkness of night. Her amethyst eyes blazed fiercely with golden light born of fury. Her golden bikini began to pulse strongly, like a heartbeat. "What are you?" Garzo turned around with a look of displeasure. The guards reached for their weapons. Victoria did not answer. She raised her right hand. White sparks at her fingertips. The air trembled, and the heat of the hall transformed into freezing cold in an instant. The candelabra flames all bent away from her at once, flickering as if fleeing. "You are prepared, I trust." That was her catchphrase. The moment she unleashed her lightning magic, the world was dyed white—and then violet. "—!" Thunder exploded. The bundle of violet lightning released from her right hand pierced through Garzo's head from within. Bone, flesh, fat—all vaporized in an instant. The arm of the guard holding the branding iron was charred black from the elbow down and fell to the floor. Garzo's massive body staggered two or three steps without its head, then collapsed with a heavy thud. The cheers turned to screams. "GYAAAAH!!" "He's been killed! Lord Garzo has been killed!!" The entire venue fell into panic. Chairs toppled, people stampeded toward the exit. Legs tangled, people were shoved down, piling on top of each other. Shouts and sobs filled the great hall. But more mercenaries appeared, as if sealing off the exit. Elite mercenaries hired to protect the Blood Auction House's operations. Thirty of them. All drew swords and axes and charged at Victoria. "How dare you... how dare you do that to Lord Garzo...!" "Kill her! She's just one woman!" For an instant, Kuro moved to draw his sword. But Victoria's back stopped him. "Stay back. Kuro, you belong to me." Her voice, even in the midst of the battlefield, was strangely gentle. Kuro caught his breath at those words. —It's dangerous, mistress. He did not voice those words. He couldn't. Her back was already radiating a light of fury that would hear nothing. One of the mercenaries brought his sword down from overhead. *Clang.* A metallic sound. Victoria caught the steel blade with her bare hand. No—to be precise, the moment her wrist touched the sword, the blade was repelled. Her body, hardened by the power of the golden bikini, could no longer be wounded by a mere sword. "Is that all you've got?" A low, mocking voice. She gathered lightning in her right hand once more. This time, not a sphere of electricity, but a band of violet lightning that stretched like a supple whip. It tore through the air and struck the mercenary's sword. *CRACK!!* The sword was magnetized and slammed to the floor. The mercenary convulsed from the sudden discharge, collapsing on the spot. Foam bubbled from his mouth, his fingers arching backward. "G-gah...!" The lightning whip changed direction again, striking the weapons of the surrounding mercenaries one after another. Swords, axes, daggers. All of them became powerfully magnetized and pinned to the stone floor. The mercenaries' bodies trembled violently, losing sensation in their limbs. Convulsing, they fell one by one. "Wh-what is this woman...!" "Lightning magic... no, she's a monster!!" They tried to flee. But the lightning was faster than their will. Each time Victoria snapped her fingers, violet electricity ran like a serpent, pinning the mercenaries' legs in place. Her eyes had completely become those of a killer. Cold, precise, without a trace of hesitation. The storm of lightning laid low everyone who attacked. "Impossible..." The customers who had failed to escape sat collapsed, as if their legs had given out. Before

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Episode 3

Name: The Violet Lightning Empress Dons Golden Armor and Dotes on Her Sole Servant
Author: Novelia

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