CHAPTER 450: THE HALF-ELVES (1/2)

Lanbael quickly introduced the contraption to us while she led us onto it. As she said, the elevator descended in a remarkably stable fashion. Out of sheer curiosity, I reached out of the confines of the elevator but soon bumped into a transparent wall… so that’s what they use to prevent the passengers from falling off?

“The hidden barrier is to protect those inside while also allowing them to inspect the surroundings as they descend.” Lanbael was quick to answer, eyes open wide for any opportunity to serve me. “Your holiness has wings so falling off should not be an issue, but for us Dark Elves, descending into Slave Chasm is a much more laborious endeavour that requires such magical contraptions.”

Well, that was a really roundabout way to lick my boots. Is this how the high society people do it? Not at all like the usual bootlickers I get it; even makes me a little unsure about how to react… Now, those useless potatoes of mine in Purgatory… bah… let’s not talk about them.

Slave Chasm was a rather unique part of the colosseum. While it was still considered a part of the colosseum itself, there was quite a bit of distance between the two.

The pit itself had to at least be a kilometer deep. And based on how that squad of slaves and guards were moving about, this elevator was probably not meant for everyone to use either, not even those moving cargo. How did I know that last part? Because I just saw the method they used to send goods down.

As the name suggested, the Slave Chasm was a pit that the slaves lived in. Naturally, such a place would not have the means to sustain itself. If those living below wanted to feed themselves, they had to rely on the supplies from the surface… or just revolt.

This pit was still a part of the colosseum, and according to Lanbael, this area was directly below the colosseum above. With its depth of over a thousand meters and a winding stairway leading downwards, those who wanted to travel to the bottom definitely had to travel more than a kilometer. That required a lot of time, even more so if one was transporting goods. Plus, the lack of guardrails meant that the goods had a very real chance of just falling off the side.

In other words, taking the stairs wasn’t a safe viable option. The elevator was forbidden to those sending goods as well; this contraption was only reserved for VIPs. So what was a transporter to do in this situation? Toss the stuff down of course!

According to estimates, there were at least five thousand residents in the pit. That required a lot of supplies daily in order to upkeep. But given the difficulty of reaching these residents, the most logical and cost-effective solution would be to just throw the goods down.

Woah… those crates have levitation magic cast on them? What the fish! How extravagant can you be?! I know the Dark Elves have more mages than the humans, but to waste them on this?

I’m speechless…

Despite its almost hellish name, Slave Chasm wasn’t a fiery pit where slaves were burnt alive. In fact, the environment was rather cold. The houses themselves were well-built, stone structures; the kind you would find in a village. However, the area we were in right now was not the residential district for the slaves. Instead, this was the headquarters of the Half-Elves.

While the Half-Elves and the slaves were both situated in Slave Chasm, there was still a separation between the two groups. Yet even so, the two groups had something in common: they were both dressed shabbily. The Half-Elves were all dressed in tattered clothing, the kind you would expect to have been passed down through generations. From the looks of things, their living conditions were a lot worse than I had expected.

These Half-Elves were tasked with guarding the slaves in Slave Chasm, but because of their mixed blood, their standing was barely any better than the people they guarded.

The elevator we were riding just made landfall when the nearby Half-Elven guardsmen hurriedly rushed over to greet Lanbael. Each of them had on a shabby leather armor that was full of holes while their weapons looked like ones from the reject shelf of the blacksmith. Even their form of greeting seemed, no, was definitely more demeaning than usual. Rather than greeting, they were completely prostrated on the ground.

Based on how they were reacting to Lanbael, it was clear none of these Half-Elves had even seen the Matriarch before. Or perhaps it would have been more accurate to say that she had never stepped foot in this area before.

As one constantly on the lookout for ways to curry my favor, Lanbael immediately snapped at the Half-Elves, “What are you kneeling down to me for? Do you not see his holi…”