Inheritor Of Magic: The Magi King



The next morning, Wolfe was up before dawn, as were all the farmers, though it was clear that many of them were still somewhere between drunk and hung over.

The huge communal pot had been completely cleared of stew last night and was now making oatmeal for breakfast. Those who had something to offer as a breakfast product were piling it on a table near the pot, so Wolfe added some dried fruits from his pack and took a seat around the fire to catch the morning gossip.

Most of it was about the predicted prices for various crops, which was actually useful to Wolfe, as it told him what was in short supply and what would be best to bring down from the Frozen Wastes to trade with the locals and build goodwill.

They had a good year for the essentials, despite the conflict. They had bumper crops of oats and potatoes, and the gardens had done very well, other than a few spots where the armies had trampled everything.

The situation was different in the Fortress City, Wolfe knew, as the Rebels had burned everything that they could since the rebellion, so the winter crop was going to be nearly nonexistent.

This area's loyalty no longer lay with the Fortress City, though, so Wolfe intended to trade between them and the Fae Forest, not as an intermediary for the Coven Witches.

The sun came up as they finished eating, and everyone got busy setting up their stalls for the day. Wolfe got to his feet to see the auction, and the farmer he had travelled the last few kilometres into town with gave him a hearty pat on the back.

"Good luck at the auction. Just remember to save some money for later in the day. That's when they auction off the young and powerful ones. They pretend like they don't know we're going to take the bracelet off as soon as we get home, so don't go stirring up trouble, and you should be able to intimidate the others into giving you some decent prices."

Wolfe chuckled at the man's plan and considered changing his clothes for the auction. That might work out for him, but it might also backfire as various people worked together to keep the Demon from getting the witches.

There was already a small lineup of wealthy businessmen, military officers and other well-dressed sorts waiting outside the auction house, so Wolfe's choice was made for him right away.

He would stand out in a bad way if he came in looking like a common farmer, and his attempts to claim more than one Witch would offend the wealthier sorts.

So, as he walked, Wolfe changed his outfit to his more customary Demon Lord suit but skipped the wings and added a top hat. That was better, but it was still missing something. He would have to check his backpack at the door, which many of the other travellers were doing, but it felt wrong to be unarmed in a crowd, even if he was in armour.

So, Wolfe added a pair of under-the-shoulder pistol holsters and moved the weapons from his pack to their new spot under his coat, then created a fancy black and gold scabbard for his sword and hung it from his waist using a bright red silk sash.

Most of the others were visibly armed, and now Wolfe felt that he properly fit in as he joined the short lineup and smiled down at the short military officer in front of him.

The man nodded politely in return, then took out a cell phone to send messages to his subordinates.

Wolfe envied that convenience. The devices wouldn't work in the Fae Forest, and there was no signal that far out anyhow. There supposedly wasn't any here before, but it seemed that connectivity was very important to the humans, and they had added cell towers to each village.

The doors opened a few minutes after Wolfe joined the line, and a group of men in suits led by two witches with their hands bound behind their backs and leashes attached to their necks came out to inspect the line.

"Human, human, human, faint traces of Fae heritage." One witched droned in a monotone as she inspected everyone in the lineup.

It was all going smoothly, and even when she mentioned partial Witch blood, the escort didn't do anything. Then she got to Wolfe and stopped dead with terror in her eyes.

"Rank... Rank..." She stammered.

"Go on, Witch, what manner of disguised traitor is that?" The man holding her leash demanded.

"It's no traitor. There is a Rank Four Demon in the lineup." The Witch managed to whisper, with her voice going squeaky at the end.

Wolfe smiled at the bouncer and pulled out a stack of bills.

"I have cash. Certainly, my money is as good as anyone else's, right?" He asked while the others in the line looked at him in horror.

"Of course it is. The witch is just a bit nervous because she knows what Feral Demons do to her kind."

The man noticed the look Wolfe gave him at the word 'Feral' and hurried to correct himself.

"I mean, unbound Demons. My apologies, Demon Lord. Might I ask what brought you here today?"

"I was travelling about to see how things had changed after such a strange winter, and the Farmers suggested that I should sell the cheese that I make at home.

It sounds like a lovely plan and a good reason to travel when the weather is pleasant, so I have come to see if I can obtain staff for a small factory.

A few dozen should be plenty, but I won't begrudge the others if they wish to bid more than I have budgeted."

Some of the people in line looked relieved, but the horror on the Witches' faces didn't fade at all when they learned that Wolfe was looking for so many 'employees.'

"In that case, Welcome to the Dutchess Geri Auction House, Demon Lord. I am certain that we can help you out today."