Witt only stirred awake for a moment before sinking back into a deep sleep.

He was utterly exhausted; a few hours of rest couldn’t fully revive him.

Let alone his life-threatening injuries.

Kaelxi’s blood did have potent healing properties, but there wasn’t enough. The cut on her finger sealed quickly, and Witt hadn’t drawn much blood.

Only his worst wounds had healed; many others remained raw.

Kaelxi thought Witt had truly died this time. She hurriedly checked his breath.

“Phew… still alive.”

Witt’s clothes were tattered and soaked in blood.

Dried blood and mine dust clung to the fabric, forming dark crimson stains.

Kaelxi’s home was spotless, and she prized cleanliness. Witt’s filthy state made her uneasy.

She patted his cheek.

“Witt, wake up? Maybe take a bath first?”

“Then we can… keep sleeping?”

Kaelxi froze mid-pat, realizing how that sounded.

“Why does it sound like I’m suggesting *that*?”

Thankfully, Witt was still out. Otherwise, Kaelxi would’ve dug a hole to hide in.

She pried open Witt’s right hand, climbed up, and heaved his deadweight body onto her shoulders. With effort, she carried him to the second-floor bathroom.

“If only Grandma Elisa had built a bathroom downstairs!” Kaelxi grumbled, lowering him onto a stool. She propped him against the wall.

Witt slumped forward, head drooping, arms limp at his sides.

Kaelxi rested a while to catch her breath.

Strength wasn’t a Rogue’s forte.

She fetched scissors from her bedroom and carefully cut away his blood-caked clothes. She braced for him to flinch in pain, but he didn’t even twitch.

“Hmph, tough guy, huh?”

Stripped bare like a boiled egg, Witt’s ruined rags were tossed straight into the trash.

Avoiding his wounds, Kaelxi gently scrubbed his body with a washcloth. His muscular frame was etched with scars, taking her ages to clean.

“Not bad… almost matched my past life,” Kaelxi lied to herself.

“But why torture a mine slave this badly?”

“If I avenge him and get caught, it’d be worse.”

“Maybe… just forget it?”

She lowered him into a tub, adding hot water and herbs.

Witt’s shoulders and head rose above the surface. His head hung low, eyelashes fluttering—he seemed close to waking.

Unaware, Kaelxi decided to wash off Witt’s blood from her own skin.

She undressed, humming as her slender form glistened under the water.

After bathing, she reached to pull Witt out. But the moment her hand neared him, his eyes snapped open.

His vision was blurry, but sensing an ambush, he *slammed* his grip onto Kaelxi’s wrist.

She grabbed his fingers with her free hand, trying to pry them loose—only for his other hand to seize her wrist too.

Witt yanked her arms apart, dragging her forward.

A wilderness-hardened adventurer, even half-rested Witt was hyper-alert.

Kaelxi struggled to break free, painfully reminded of their strength gap.

His wary gaze swept downward: over the flustered, flushed face of the girl, her slender neck, delicate collarbone, full breasts and rosy peaks.

No thick forest, but a deep valley; long legs and pale, petite feet.

The boy’s eyes shifted from alert to confused, then to dawning realization.

They were close enough for him to catch her faint, sweet scent.

Kaelxi regretted everything. She should’ve carried him out first.

Afraid to startle him, she clamped her mouth shut.

Witt thought he finally understood.

He hadn’t made it.

Last time he woke, it wasn’t heaven.

*This* was heaven.

While he was lost in thought, the girl slipped free and slapped him hard.

Cheeks burning like sunset clouds, Kaelxi covered herself and stormed out of the bathroom, fuming.

.............

Grandma Elisa’s distant relatives lived in Redriver City. Unlike Cesecity’s heavy-industry focus, this was the only city in the Buchert Kingdom where legal slave trading thrived.

In short, slavery was law here.

Slaves bought here could be taken beyond the city walls—still legal.

A river flowed beside Redriver City. Locals called it the Red River.

Legend said that long ago, slaves rebelled against their masters. They united, killed slavers, and nearly seized the entire city.

The mayor begged the king for help. The king sent the Moonlight Family to crush the uprising.

The fifth head of the Moonlight Family led the brutal suppression, wiping out the rebels.

Captured slaves were marched to the riverbank, beheaded en masse. Their bodies—and those fallen in battle—were dumped into the water.

Blood from the corpses dyed the river crimson for three full days.

Afterward, the city was renamed Redriver City, and the river became the Red River.

A warning to slaves: rebel, and share their fate.

To repay the Moonlight Family, Redriver City offered them the magic principles and alchemical methods for improved slave contracts.

It was said the Moonlight head sternly refused the mayor’s gift.

Today, Redriver City’s slave trade boomed. Nearly every household owned slaves. Auctions drew crowds of tourists, turning into a spectacle.

Many visitors arrived early just to witness the auctions, hinting at a tourism trend.

Did people truly enjoy slave auctions?

Not entirely. The Buchert Kingdom publicly banned trading non-humans to maintain ties with other races, allowing only human slaves.

Yet many slavers chased high profits in gray areas.

They formed Slave Catcher Squads, capturing Beastmen, Elves, and other races for Redriver City auctions.

The kingdom turned a blind eye.

People weren’t just drawn to auctions—they craved the beauty of exotic races!