Chapter 18

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The evening was late, but not so late that the real festivities, the Sorceress Festival, had started yet. The sky had grown dimmer, yet plenty of light still remained. The sun had yet to pass beyond the horizon.

Callisto sat within a small room that contained a long, rectangular table. Made of worn wood and covered in stains, he would've normally never chosen this as a meeting place. Circumstances dictated that he put up with it, however, thus he was left with little choice.

He near the head of the table. On his right was Giovanni Gorossolaine. To his left, sitting at the head of a table, was a young woman wreathed in crimson, a cloak that hid all but her glowing blue eyes from view. Even with all of her features hidden, everyone could tell that she was short of stature. Her legs didn't even reach the floor.

Other people sat around the table as well. He knew them all, which made sense, as they were his colleagues. There was Baron Gerosso, a man who worked underneath Earl Giovanni. Sitting next to him were the Marquis Hunington and Nivan. Although there were more, these four, along with Duke Tristlethane, who sat at the other end, made up the core of his network.

These were the men who controlled the majority of the nobles. They ruled the lesser nobility with an iron fist. Men lived and died by their words. Of course, these five individuals were, in turn, ruled over by him—even if they believed themselves to be his equal.

While the sorceresses held all the power, they were still a minority. There were barely fifty sorceresses in Arcadia, but there were around 1.3 billion people. That being said, most of those people were peasants, the commonwealth. The nobility was a small faction as well, though it was still larger than the sorceresses.

In Arcadia, there were 124 noble families located throughout the various cities and regions. Each family ranged in wealth and title, from low-class to high-class, baron all the way to duke. While that number was, indeed, insignificant, it was more than enough for what he had planned.

The sorceresses may think themselves wise and knowledgeable about the people who live underneath them, but in truth, they only knew what I and the other nobles tell them.

Standing up, Castillo surveyed the others, making eye contact with each one of them. "I am pleased to see that you were all able to make it. Now our meeting can officially proceed.

"Good. Then perhaps you can enlighten us as to the reason we were called here, Duke Genitore—and on such short notice. I know not about the others, but I, for one, have many duties to attend to back home and do not appreciate being torn from them without just cause."

The man who'd spoken was Marquis Hunington. He hailed from the port city of Dorumhold, a high-class noble whose lucrative business on imports and exports was used to mask his slave trading operations. Being an older gentleman, his graying hair gave him a distinguished appearance, and he wore his mustache well.

"My apologies, Marquis Hunington." Castillo smiled unpleasantly. "I forgot about how busy you were with your slave trading business, and that you like to... sample your goods before selling them. It must be difficult being asked to leave when you still have so many slaves to break in. Why, your business must have stalled simply because you came here."

Marquis Hunington looked put off by the sarcastic response. "You should know very well how difficult it is to ensure that the quality of my products meets the high standards of my clients. After all, you've bought several from me in the past."

"That is very true. However, as I recall, the ones that I bought had been unsullied. I do believe the quality of the slave is devalued when they've been used by another, don't you?"

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