I Just Raised Men for Revenge (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 10

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Rohan pulled out the Merchant Guild token he had been carrying. The initial investment had been enormous, and since it had originated from the marquis’s household, the guild token gleamed quite impressively—as if to prove that money could buy anything.

Seeing it, the man’s eyes lit up sharply.

“Hmph. You… you really are serious. That’s truly a guild token… I see.”

In the end, the guard hesitated briefly before stepping aside. It was a perfectly understandable reaction.

The Merchant Guild and the slave traders maintained an unspoken relationship—mutually accommodating each other’s interests, as it were. Perhaps believing that a guild merchant who had even revealed his name would hardly bring harm to them, he became rather amiable.

“If you’re buying slaves, just keep walking straight ahead.”

‘Damn it all.’

Simply because he possessed a Merchant Guild token, they yielded the path so easily. That alone spoke volumes about how deeply entangled they all were behind the scenes. She wanted nothing more than to overturn the whole rotten system.

But now was not the time. She couldn’t afford to repeat past mistakes—the very error of letting them slip through her fingers right before her eyes. After all, these slave traders would still be doing the same vile deeds in this very spot years from now.

‘I’m no apostle of justice.’

Yet she knew there had to be a reason she’d returned to this time—and this, too, must be one of those reasons.

The greatest catalyst for her return to this era had been her family’s curse, and it was precisely thanks to this slave market that she’d first learned of that curse.

“Aren’t you going in?”

“I have to. Thank you.”

With those words, the three of them stepped into the long corridor. It was an endless hallway lined with countless rooms—but where doors should have been, all had been torn away and replaced with iron bars. People were locked inside.

They all sat listlessly imprisoned: among them were very young children and elderly folk who seemed too frail to move.

Sesenia’s heart sank heavily. She had only ever heard reports of this place. Whether when managing the marquisate or as empress, she’d never been able to move freely—and had merely heard rumors of such establishments. This was only the second time she’d actually set foot here.

It was here that she’d met ‘that person’ and first learned of the marquisate’s curse. And it was to that person she’d sworn: she would eradicate this place, even if she couldn’t save everyone—she would ensure no one else would suffer the same fate.

Having once merely sat at her desk, issuing orders to eliminate such horrors, she now found herself struggling to adjust to this reality. Watching these humans treated less than human, Sesenia could only clench her teeth in silent fury.

‘Just endure it. Keep calm. You have nothing now—what good would sympathy for these people do?’

If anything, seeing them only made her feel how utterly insignificant she truly was.

At that moment, a man from deeper inside hurried over to her side.

“My, my—a noble lady like yourself visiting such a place is quite unexpected. What brings you here?”

Sesenia, whose expression had been slipping the entire time as she walked, belatedly nodded—feigning complete indifference.

“A young man to keep me company. Preferably someone my age.”

“Men your age are quite rare here…”

“Are there really none?”

“Well… there actually is just one. But he’s a bit flawed, so I’m not sure if it’s appropriate to offer him.”

The slave trader, who had appeared out of nowhere, glanced at Sesenia hesitantly. He clearly regarded her as someone far above the gatekeeper—likely the master of this establishment.

His eyes roved up and down her form with clear intent: gauging how much money she had, whether she could afford what he was about to offer. Fortunately, she seemed to have passed his inspection, for his eyebrows twitched slightly.

“Flawed?”

“Yes. He’s somewhat disobedient, so we’ve had to restrain him with a magic collar… But that’s not a major issue, really.”

“I’ll take him.”

“Yes, yes.”

Instantly, a broad smile spread across Sesenia’s face.

There was only one man her age in this entire slave market—and he was the one she sought.

Young men rarely appeared in slave markets. Even if someone wanted to use them as laborers, hiring commoners was far cheaper. Moreover, youths were harder to manage and prone to rebelliousness, which slave traders generally disliked.

Knowing this, she’d deliberately asked for someone her age—and as expected, her guess had been correct.

True to the claim that he was ‘flawed,’ the prison holding this man was located deep within the complex.

“Miss… going this deep feels suspicious!”

Lizbet, who had been trembling the entire way, clung tightly to Sesenia’s arm in fear.

“It’s fine. Rohan’s with us.”

“…That unreliable brother of yours?”

“Yes. But his swordsmanship is exceptional. Let’s trust him.”

“…Knowing him, if anything happens, he’ll definitely save only you…”

“If anything happens, I’ll save you, Lizbet. Don’t worry.”

Sesenia patted her hand reassuringly and continued following the merchant. At last, they came to a halt before a man with black hair and golden eyes.

‘Black hair…’

The man she’d envisioned should have had golden hair—but his was as black as her own.

‘Could this be someone else?’

Trending

Yet those golden eyes, shining even in the gloom, confirmed beyond doubt that this was the man she sought. He stood utterly out of place in this wretched setting. Even covered in soot, his nobility remained unmistakable.

Scars might have marred his body more than grace, but he was undeniably the one she’d been searching for. Hair color could be altered easily enough. She didn’t know who had dyed his hair black, but in this moment, she was certain.

Sesenia smiled faintly—she’d seen him once before, long ago.

‘I’ve found you at last.’

Their previous encounter had been brief. As empress, she had spoken to him then—a few inconsequential words, yet unmistakably the same man. Though now he looked less than human and his hair was a different color, she knew it was him.

Just then, the slave trader spoke as if he’d been waiting for this moment.

“This is the one.”

“I like him.”

Sesenia grinned the instant she saw the man. There was no hesitation—this was the one she’d come for.

“How much?”

“Huh? Ah—well, the restraining collar adds a bit to the price…”

“Discuss the price with Rohan. Rohan, you understand?”

“Yes, my lady.”

Rohan straightened his shoulders and stepped back with the merchant. In the meantime, Sesenia gazed through the iron bars at the man.

He didn’t even glance in her direction. She tapped lightly on the bars like calling a puppy.

“You.”

“You cannot tame me.”

As if to demonstrate exactly why he was deemed disobedient, the man—though a slave—glared straight at Sesenia. Unfazed, she simply nodded approvingly.

“I adore your rebellious spirit.”

“…”

“Say, are you good at hanging laundry?”

“…Laundry?”

His previously arrogant tone vanished instantly.

“I was thinking of entrusting you with my laundry.”

The man stared at her, utterly bewildered.

“Well, even if you can’t hang laundry properly, I’m still taking you.”

“…Are you saying you’ll beat a person?”

“No. I mean beating cotton.”

“Is someone named ‘Cotton’? Or… is it cotton?”

His fundamentally kind nature showed in how he alternated between formal and informal speech—instinctively using honorifics before hurriedly switching to casual speech to appear defiant. It was almost endearing. Sesenia nearly laughed but quickly composed herself.

She had been speaking brightly, like the twenty-year-old Sesenia should—but memories of everything she’d endured kept surfacing.

Thus, even her expression slipped occasionally. Her voice and mannerisms mimicked a sheltered young noblewoman with little worldly experience—but it was all an act.

Perhaps sensing this, the man’s expression darkened, his confusion now edged with something deeper—as if a beast instinctively distinguishing friend from foe, knowing precisely before whom to lower his head, lift his hindquarters, and wag his tail.

Or perhaps his instincts recognized another truth altogether… and he changed.

“No. Cotton.”

But Sesenia meant it sincerely.

She truly meant beating cotton.

Specifically, the Hefria cotton she had just purchased.

Hefria cotton required periodic beating; only then would air fill its fibers, causing it to fluff up—and only when properly fluffed did its market value increase.

Left neglected in a cold place, it would quickly grow mold. Thus, within the empire, Hefria cotton held no commercial value—too difficult to maintain, with virtually no demand.

Conveniently, this gave her a plausible reason to take him—but the man still looked utterly perplexed.

‘He knows exactly who I am, so this reason should suffice—but he won’t trust someone like me.’

And yet, she couldn’t possibly reveal his identity right now. He had to recognize himself first. That was why she intended to hire him as an employee of Iar’s trading company.

He didn’t seem particularly obedient—but among the imperial princes, he was likely the only one untouched by Elzer’s schemes.

‘Because you’re the lost prince—unknown even to the current emperor. The prince your mother hid away, loathing the emperor’s seed so fiercely she nearly wished it dead.’

Sesenia gazed at the man and smiled softly.

‘And you… you wanted nothing more than to topple every last damn royal in this empire.’

Fragments of the past stirred in her memory. Back then, as empress, she’d sought him out on her husband the emperor’s orders. Though burdened by her own affairs, she’d spoken to him in earnest.

‘If there’s something you desire, I’ll make it happen—on the condition you leave the imperial family. It would be better for you.’

She had wanted to spare him becoming a puppet trapped in the imperial cage, just like her—and she’d merely been fulfilling her husband’s command. But that man had refused without a moment’s hesitation.

ads

Wounded, aware of how he’d been raised and why he’d been abandoned—perhaps guided by someone’s secret instructions—he’d declared he must become emperor. That dream, he said, had lived within him since the moment he learned of his true identity.

‘In the end, you wanted to become emperor—and I will grant that wish. I will give voice to the loathing in your eyes. I will make that hatred real.’

Just then, Rohan returned with the triumphant air of a victor, having finished haggling the price.

“It’s done. I kept them from gouging us and bought him at a fair price.”

“Around what we originally expected?”

“No. I cut it in half. He seemed problematic—needing a magic collar suggests danger, plus he’s scrawny from malnourishment, and judging by all those scars… I doubt he’s even of sound mind.”

Rohan regarded the man inside the cage warily—not with the caution of someone fearing physical danger, but with a different kind of wariness altogether.

“Oh? He has scars, too?”

Sesenia, too absorbed in studying the man to notice before, now saw them clearly at Rohan’s words. Indeed, his body was covered in wounds—old ones, already hardened into scars.

“Yes.”

“You did well, Rohan. Good job.”

At that moment, the merchant, clearly bitter about the deal, rushed over to Sesenia in frustration.

“Ugh, this is truly a losing transaction!”

“Hm?”

“Just keeping this slave costs a fortune…!”

Deciding Rohan was hopeless to reason with, the man sidled up to Sesenia and began grumbling. She responded with eager sympathy.

“Oh? It costs a lot? Why’s that?”

“Well, he’s an adult, so he eats a great deal—and that adds up! He’s been here so long, the expenses keep piling up, yet no one buys him… Miss, could you maybe pay a little extra…?”

“I expected you to complain about the expensive magic collar—but since you didn’t even mention it… either it didn’t cost much, or it’s a fake, and you’re really just losing money on his meals.”

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