The Good Boy

 Brandon Silverhand, an energetic young man who possesses the strength, goodwill, and justice of a hero.

 Born in the capital of the White Moon kingdom, son of Count Pittie Silverhand, he grew up in the comfort and luxury that every young person his age dreams of having.

 Brandon was always a bit different from his aristocratic peers. Being a good boy and born with a pure personality, he never got along very well with the young people of his age who belonged to the same social circle. He couldn't stand their arrogant and overbearing ways when interacting with people from lower social circles, especially the plebeians and employees.

 Precisely because of this, his childhood was always troubled. Because of his ideals, Brandon constantly got into heated discussions whenever he encountered an unjust situation. With his inspiring way with words, he almost always came out victorious, thus embarrassing and hurting the ego of many local nobles.

 Although, for a noble, his conduct was that of a black sheep, Brandon was always protected by his father from all the criticisms of high society. It is not known whether it was out of fraternal love or simply because Brandon, since childhood, confirmed by magical means, had the best talent for cultivating the family's Knight technique.

 Even with all the care and affection that Count Silverhand gave to Brandon, he could not save him from his own actions, at least, not completely.

 The more the boy grew, the more he saw the true face of society, especially with the panoramic view that the status of his family provided, feeling increasingly disgusted and revolted.

Fake smiles, facade education and false allies. All of this was the standard.

 Entering his teenage and rebellious phase, Brandon soon found himself getting into more heated fights on behalf of others, even leading to physical confrontations. Whether facing a noble who ridiculed a poor street vendor or personally bringing food and gifts to the more desolate areas of the capital.

 The dissatisfaction of the local high society with Brandon was always a reality, but one mistake cost the balance that kept retaliation out of his way.

 After trying to interfere in a slave market, commanded by none other than the duke's trusted man, Count Silverhand had to personally pull some strings and ask for mercy from the duke. Which, due to Pittie's good reputation in the kingdom, worked, however, it was still necessary to expel his son from the imperial city for 5 years.

 A great mercy, considering that everyone who offended the duke in the past suddenly disappeared like fog.

Today, Brendon is in a simple room in a local inn.

 With his gray hair, black eyes, and strong physical constitution, characteristics belonging to all of the main Silverhand lineage, he could certainly be considered an extremely handsome young man.

 Sitting on the bed, he focused on the content of the letter in his hand. "So these are the scoundrels who kidnapped Lady Lanuzel while she was adventuring alone outside the elven territory... Damn, they even have Kadricia, the lost daughter of the fallen Archduke of the Golden Lion kingdom."

 Today was a special day for Brandon. Being close to completing the 5 years of his exile, he was already preparing to return. Turning 20 years old, the appropriate age to start training the advanced Knight technique of the family, Brandon couldn't wait to return to the capital and have his proper training with his family.

 As for staying there after that, it's something he never took into consideration. Brandon was pure and truly loved his father, but his best and freest years were those of exile.

 Receiving a large monthly sum, Brandon simply traveled from one place to another, helping everyone he met along the way. Defeating small villains here and there, whenever something beyond his strength arose, he was confident in using his father's name for a good cause.

 Currently, he was in the outer area of a city located on the extreme frontier of the White Moon kingdom, called Castle Grey, while causing some problems for a local group of slave traders.

"Hmm... This auction will take place tomorrow. I guess I can postpone my trip to the capital.

 There's nothing to do but thank this anonymous plea for help. It seems that not everyone can stand by while people are enslaved... There really is hope in the world." Brandon murmured as he made up his mind.

 Taking the envelope from which he had taken the letter, which was resting next to him on the bed, Brandon took out an invitation to the auction, along with the location and time.

 Nodding at the whistleblower's care to not only tell what was happening but also send him the invitation to the place, Brandon thanked him once again in his mind.

 Getting up from his bed, Brandon stretched his tall body with good muscular proportion, while, with a smile on his face, he exclaimed: "Ok, Ok. Let's get ready!".

Alex POV ~~~

I'm so damn frustrated…

 After my first day as a showcase slave, I had already made up my mind: Since I only had two more days before being sold to some disgusting noble, I would have to do something, anything, to escape.

 My first strategy ended with me being tortured by the person I thought would help me escape. So yesterday, after my second day as a showcase slave, I decided that I would throw myself through the large window in the hallway of my room, which, unlike the rooms I had, did not have a metal grate.

 Whether I would come out whole from a fall from the second floor, or get seriously injured by the broken window glass, it didn't matter. It's better to have a chance of survival than the certainty of getting screwed.

 But here I am, waiting in a room at the back of the auction stage. All because I chickened out yesterday.

 The truth is that, even though it's only the second floor, the ceiling of this fancy building is damn high. I'm sure that just falling from this height would break something that would make my escape impossible…

 Yet, here I am, standing still, in this gala outfit, being watched by the bastard who tortured me.Speaking of the bastard, it seems that Brody really got the promotion he wanted.

 In the room where I am, there are all the main items of the auction which, incredibly, is not just slaves, but also has apparently rare jewels, a mage book - acolyte volume, and a low Knight technique. Of course, besides these few items, the majority of the auctioned items are slaves. I can hear the amplified voice of a woman auctioning slaves, or rather, literally lots of them. It seems that only high-quality products are auctioned separately.

 Guarding the door of the room I'm in, Brody, with his naive fool's face, can't stop casting curious glances at me and the Knight book, which had already been auctioned and was resting on a glass pedestal, probably waiting for the end of the auction to be delivered to the buyer.

 To my left, the two high-quality slave girls stand still just like me, apathetic. On my right, the ugly man, also of high quality, observes the surroundings.

 From what I understand, he is some kind of fighter, enslaved by some magical method, different from the three of us, judging by the bright blue pentagram on his neck. This makes him slightly special, despite obeying orders without thinking, he doesn't seem like a traumatized and lifeless puppet.

 Well, all I know is that I'm screwed. The black sea within my consciousness didn't help as much as I thought it would. It gave me the strength to continue and keep my mind healthier, but nothing changed physically.

 All I can do is one strategy: When the bastard is left alone with me to use me sexually, I will attack and kill him, looking for a way to escape later.

 I'm not dense. I know that the personality of any of the motherfuckers present is a twisted shit and, regardless of gender, anyone who wants to buy me, won't do it for anything. My appearance, to them, is my only quality, besides, of course, what they think is my origin.

I sinc…

*Boom!*

End of Alex POV ~~~