The Developer Reborn As Archmage

Seris hurriedly pulled out her wand as Thirteen abruptly stopped his nonchalant walk. He turned around on his heel, face twisted in shock and surprise.

The translucent figure struggled against Darya. She tossed Seris’s coin pouch at her and used both her arms to restrain the flailing limbs. The feral thing was screeching like a distressed bird.

Seris plunged her wand into the translucent mess in Darya’s hands, her forearm emitting vapor trails of mana. She muttered some incantation, and the translucent figure instantly flickered into existence. The translucency peeled off like paint, revealing a messy-haired child wearing dirty clothes.

“What is happening?!” Sarka asked, caught off-guard. “I can sense a mana signature out of nowhere!”

The child had the same eyes as Thirteen. They were too young to estimate a gender, but Darya had a hunch that this was a girl. She was holding the little thief in a weird grip, mistaking a leg for an arm, nearly bending her tiny body in half by one thigh and one bicep. She let go of the leg and grabbed the arms, lifting her off the floor.

She can’t be older than what? five? seven?

“Let me go!” the little thief squeaked, trying to bite her hand. Darya restrained her against her knee.

“Leave her alone!” Thirteen hissed at them, dashing face forward as he drew a dagger out of nowhere. Seris leapt sideways and whacked him across the forehead with the coin pouch.

He wobbled on his feet, and the dagger clattered on the stone floor. Seris grabbed him by the back of the neck and poked his chest with the wand.

“Don’t even think about it!” she warned him with gritted teeth.

Woah. She’s fast. I thought she was about to get stabbed!

The entire sequence had happened in the shadow of the giant door, and no one had noticed, even with the sound of the coin pouch against the forehead and the knife clattering on the ground.

Darya silenced the feral girl in her hands by covering her mouth with her forearm. Thirteen swayed on his feet, staring up at Seris while panting. He pulled his hood back and touched his forehead. His fingers turned red with blood.

They got the first look at him right then. He had iridescent purple-blue scales around his jaw, the sides of his head, and down his neck. This man was a merfolk half-breed, tilting more towards a fishman.

The little girl wasn’t scaly like him, and her eyes were less colorful than his. She was covered up to the neck in rags.

Thirteen rubbed his blood-drenched hand on his shirt.

“Let my daughter go!” he hissed at them. “We’ll leave. No trouble for you.”

“I don’t think I will,” Darya said, tightening her grip on the girl. “I think we’ll hand both of you over to the guards, you dirty thieves!”

“Almost stabbed me too, the nerve!” Seris said indignantly.

The girl in Darya’s arms gave up struggling and started whining pathetically against Darya’s forearm. She sounded like a tea kettle between quiet sobs.

“Princess! I am concerned. Why am I hearing a whining little child!” Sarka asked, still confused.

“We caught two thieves. Stay quiet,” Darya said briefly.

“Oh my!”

Thirteen gritted his teeth and exhaled angrily. He clenched his fists, pushing against the wand that Seris held against his chest. “Let her go. You can take me to the guards!”

“No, if I bring guards into this, both of you have to go. I don’t owe you any favors,” Darya said firmly, glaring back at him.

His eyebrow twitched, and blood trickling down from his forehead flowed down his cheek, turning into heavy drops at his chin.

“I can give you money—”

“Really? Why did you try to steal from us if you had any money?” Seris asked, pressing the wand deeper.

“I don’t need your money even if you have it,” Darya said.

“Wh-what the hell do you want! Just let my daughter go, please!” he said dismally.

“I said no…” Darya said sternly and let the silence hang for a bit. Thirteen shot daggers at her with his glowing eyes.

Darya cleared her throat, looking at the girl who was halfway into biting her forearm while drowning in snot and tears. “…unless you can tell me more about auctions, of course.” She added innocuously.

His eyes widened as if it were unexpected. He unclenched his fists, relaxing his brows. “W-wait! I’ll tell you, I’m sorry. We’re sorry!”

His demeanor changed from rage to proper begging in almost an instant. Darya knew why. The deal she offered was good. He probably wasn’t that attached to the information anyway. He’d refused to go through with it earlier because he was planning on stealing the whole pouch. If anything, he had to be displeased about her taking five silver coins out of it right before.

“Seris, let him go,” Darya said.

Seris quickly grabbed the fallen dagger off the floor and shoved it into her bag.

“Cover your head, and tell your daughter to stop biting me,” Darya said as she wrenched her forearm away. Her sleeve was already torn between the girl’s tiny teeth.

“Seha, stop. Do as the good lady says!” Thirteen said desperately, covering his head with the dirty rags.

The little girl calmed down at the stern mention of her name. Her teeth loosened. Darya used her cape to cover herself entirely.

“Seris, where can we talk with these two in peace?”

The guild hall was too crowded. Drawing attention to themselves, engaging with merfolk slaves wasn’t a good idea.

“Follow me,” Seris lowered her wand and stared warningly at Thirteen. “Don’t get any ideas. You’re not faster than us.”

They followed Seris for about eight blocks behind the guild hall. It only took a few hundred meters for Galtea’s city center to gradually deteriorate into the slums. Passing through a guarded gate by the sixth block, they witnessed a sharp decline in architecture and living conditions.

Beggars lined the sides of the street, sleeping in the shade or passed out drunk after a night of work. Only their children seemed to have the energy to run around. Thirteen kept his head down as they passed, but there was some sort of nonverbal communication between them. Some of the children were glaring at them with smug expressions.

Looks like he’s signalling them, but would he dare to do anything after what just happened?

They stopped by an alleyway tucked between two crumbling buildings. The ground was wet from overflowing gutters. There were no pavements for the beggars to sleep.

Darya put the girl down, holding her by the back of her rags to stop her from running off. Thirteen muttered reassuring things to his daughter, and she seemed to calm down.

“Talk,” Seris said sternly. Darya thought she would have healed Thirteen’s bleeding forehead by now, but she was not in a hurry, perhaps wanting to let him learn the lesson for a bit longer.

Maybe it’s not a good idea to set him at ease before he gives us anything useful. The last time I tried to be good, he tried to steal from us.

She wasn’t used to thinking this cynically about people, and she didn’t feel good about being unkind to a slave, but she couldn’t afford to let him jump all over her either. Seris’s judgment was better on this matter.

“Start with who you really are,” Darya said before Thirteen started talking.

“My old name’s Roden, my daughter is Seha,” the man bowed slightly, trying to be overtly respectful. “I was bought by house Lorannd five years ago. My master went bankrupt two years back, leaving us house staff to fend for ourselves. No one claimed me again. I’ve been doing odd jobs to feed my daughter ever since.”

“When did you have your daughter?” Darya asked curiously.

“I was brought here with my wife. She was with child at the time. We got separated. My master, he-he was a good man. He found where she was, but it was too late. She had died. He found Seha and brought her back to me.”

A good slave owner who went bankrupt? Did this master guy go out of his way to be kind? Maybe someone who disagreed with the Baron?

“I haven’t seen that cloaking technique your daughter used. Is it something she was born with?” Seris asked, looking at the girl.

“Y-yes. It is a bloodline skill that came from her mother.”

“Can’t say I agree with training a toddler to be a pickpocket, but I see why you’d want to take that risk,” Darya said with a sigh. “Alright, Mister Roden. That should be enough introductions. Tell me everything you know about the auctions. We’re particularly interested in the Colosseum.”

Roden started talking. “There are three big auctions that the Baron directly supports. Two RCMF ones for weapons and ships, five underground ones hosted by the trade syndicate.”

Seris frowned. “Baron really directly supports the top three? His name is Varlotta, right? He used to be an abolitionist. I’ve seen him in the regional council a long time ago. Do you know what changed?”

“No one knows for sure. The Baron is old and sick. People say Galtea’s run by his son Argyl now.”

“This is news that we should’ve heard in Karossa,” Seris said, looking at Darya.

Darya nodded. Galtea was a major political power in the same ocean. The Baron, or whoever hijacked the country, had some method to keep things quiet. “We came from Karossa. As you can see, we had no idea slavery was back in Galtea. This information should’ve leaked everywhere within the last five years, but it didn’t. I wonder how?”

“K-karossa?!” Roden exclaimed. “I’ve never met anyone from there. You're both mages, right?”

“You could say that,” Darya said, eying the wand in Seris’s hand, which was a dead giveaway. “We're pirates, actually,” she said flatly.

“What?!”

Seris's head snapped in her direction. Darya grinned at her.

“P-pirates can't be—pretty ladies like you! You have a talking glove!. She has a wand. You're mages!”

“You think we're pretty, why thank you, Roden,” Darya said.

“Why did you even bother lying? Galtea’s a navy base! If guards hear the word pirates, they'll shoot you on the spot! Only the RCMF-registered ones are allowed around here!”

“You're going to rat us out?” Seris asked, playing along.

“I-I’m no friend of the RCMF, lady. I'm just telling you,” Roden said anxiously.

“Thanks for your concern. We're pirates. There's no rule against mages being pirates.” Darya turned to him. “I don’t think you answered my question?”

Roden had diverted the conversation by asking what they were. She had gone on that whole tangent, but she never forgot the question she was asking. “I was wondering how we haven’t heard about the baron being sick and unstable, bringing back slavery for no reason. Sounds like it should be big news for anyone in this ocean.”

“I uh,” Roden eyed her sheepishly. It was as she thought. It seemed he had derailed the conversation on purpose. “This is a secret. I only know because the master told me. He’s one of the few people who saw the old baron.”

“I see. That’s interesting,” Darya said. “Back to the topic of auctions. Is the Colosseum one of the top three?”

“Yes. It’s one of the most popular,” Roden said with a sniff.

“Any idea what’s being sold there?”

“Anything you can imagine, really. The items are curated by the colosseum owner, bossman Drakva. Could be Jewels and gems, weapons, people, silk, relics, curses, even ships. No one knows where he gets all this stuff. The auction happens under the colosseum after fights, usually once per week.”

She wasn’t used to this. Vainfall’s RLP realism had made everything infinitely complicated. Corrupt leaders, poverty, racial dynamics, and slavers selling slaves like supermarket items.

She already knew solving this issue as an individual was next to impossible, even if she had the admin powers to play god behind the scenes. Too much meddling with the dynamics of the world would break it in unpredictable ways. There was a core distinction to be made. It wasn’t a malevolent simulation oppressing these people. It was the opposite. This simulation was the one that these people fostered for themselves throughout 9000 years of civilization.

“What do we do now?” Seris asked, lowering her wand for the first time.

Darya let go of the little girl. Seha dashed to her father and clung to his rags. “Heal his forehead,” she said, pointing at Roden.

Seris nodded, pointing the wand at the man’s head. He tried to duck, but Seris hit him squarely on the forehead with a burst of green mana. The cut vanished as if it never existed.

“You’re healed,” she said, holstering her wand.

“Th-thank you, lady!” Roden said, touching his forehead. Seha stared at him curiously.

“I want to get into the colosseum auction,” Darya announced. “Can you take us there?”

“M-me?” Roden laughed. “I'm not rich enough to get you an invitation. Bossman Drakva doesn’t let just anybody in!”

“Look, money is not a problem for us. I’ve been plundering the sea for years. I have all the money.” Darya said indignantly. “If you help me, I’ll pay you.”

“Eh?” Seris stared at Darya, her mouth half open.

“R-right, lady captain! I’ll show you what to do in the colosseum. Getting the invitation will be up to you, though!”

“Sure. Why don’t we figure that out once we get there?”