I regressed and became the Sword Ice King

Gonzalo Jean, a bulky man in his late twenties had brown hair, a brown goatee and a vertical scar on the left side of his well proportioned masculine face.

The scar contrasted to his otherwise sorted facial features, brightening his appearance.

His most prominent features would be the golden piercings on his lips, nose and ears, and the heavy golden chains, wrapped around his neck. His fingers were adorned with at least a golden ring. He was an eccentric that liked flaunting out his riches in the most peculiar way.

He saw himself as a righteous man in a corrupt society. Society tugged and pushed him like a broken doll and he retaliated by punching it back with equal force.

He resented being forced to bow to the superiors that this so-called Society had imposed on them.

That included the so called King of Lumbrica. He always told himself that if the goddess mayura thought it a good idea to put those immature buffoon, then she as well must have been a buffoon as well.

Nothing they did ever made sense in his head, honestly.

He pulled out his cigarette, and checked the time on a golden analogue watch. It was the latest model he had GENUINELY obtained from a branch of the Green magic tower.

When one of his goons snapped him back to reality.

"Hey boss, we just offloaded the last merchandise". A man with lacking features walked up to him and said.

Gonzalo looked up at him, his gaze lingering for a while before it shifted to the twenty demi-humans lined up by their race.

As an UPRIGHT man, he was the head of a branch of an underground society known as the Red Peacemakers.

They performed various tasks that ranged from repossessing of valuable magic tech (stealing). Safe relocation of precious assets to a secure environment, where they strive under strict expert care (kidnapping). Running of honest businesses that harpoon money into the society (scammers) and many more.

It was a really 'honest' business whenever he thought of it and the gains were truly impressive.

Just these twenty demi-humans already made him a billionaire, it was no wonder he liked showcasing his wealth.

Though, the location was far from ideal.

He hated the thought of being a subordinate, and the head of a 'branch' of an honest business never sat well with him. He was a Level 80 berserker after all, someone like him belonged further up the chain of command.

Not to talk of the location, the slums ? Of all places, the slums was where he had been posted to carry out his duties.

What sort of shitty situation was that ? It was an annoying feeling that haunted his pride whenever he thought of it so he did as much as he could to avoid thinking about it.

Currently, they were in front of a stone bastion with authentic doors and structured foundation. It was the one place he sought refuge in this god forsaken filth of a city.

Surrounding that bastion were tall walls with ceramic roof plates and further down, was a gate. The muddy ground left a deep boot imprint on the muddy boots of the five men surrounding twenty demi-humans, who were left barefooted.

Gonzalo clicked his tongue, tapping the butt of his cigarette as he scanned through the demi-humans consisting of four elves, five werewolves, nine werecats and a reptilia.

They had hit the jackpot this time.

Each of the girls had remarkable young features that were hidden in the midst of dust and mud. Their wrists and ankles were bound to manacles, and thick shackles wrapped tightly around their neck.

Each shackle was linked to a chain, which a man at the front of the line held, pulling the demi-humans when he moved.

The golden shackles bore shiny inscriptions.

Their lips were charred and some had swollen red eyes, from crying. In contrast to their situation, a few of them had remarkably sharp expressions.

One particular werewolf caught his attention but he simply shrugged it off. This wasn't the first batch of demi-humans he had in his branch after all and some tend to have these sorts of expressions. Perhaps they like to cling to hope.

But hope was merely a concept that drove the weak to further weakness.

A few more captives were already inside the bastion waiting for the dreaded day when they will be auctioned and so will the new batch. If anything, it would greatly help them if they succumbed to depression now rather than after being sold.

It would be problematic, as they might have to eliminate them.

"the Red Auction House will hold in two days; take our guests to their rooms and make sure you give them the 'treatment' he deserved". His voice was a low, husky whisper with a deep intensity.

He turned around and walked towards the Bastion, putting the cigarette back in his mouth as the sloshing of mud echoed in the air.

The men murmured in an accent as they led their captives towards the bastion when Gonzalo Jean halted.

His body seemed to have tensed as he turned towards the direction of the tall walls of the Colosseum.
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His men, noticing his gaze, chuckled as they turned towards their Leader.

"You must be curious too, boss". One said with an amused tone in their voice.

"I heard a few days ago about the Rankings Battle" Another said, a hint of curiosity in his voice. "they say the Mermaid and Elven royalties are here".

"Well, would you look at that". The one with the chain whistled loudly, pulling the chain of the elf that stood in front of the line.

She let out a faint cry and collapsed, pulling the others with her.

"Oh get back up !" The man yelled with a contorted melody in his voice. He yanked the chain again, forcing her to stand and she felt a surge of pain through her exhausted body.

Their eyes met and a cruel smile spread across her face. "I'm going to have my fun with you later".

The elf's eyes had lost their luster; she could barely hear these people…these humans. It was a twisted thing, the alliance and absolutely nothing had changed between the two different species.

All she could do was…endure until the pain became too unbearable.

Most of the demi-humans had lost hope, their eyes dull and listless, well except for that one werewolf. She seemed to have turned towards the direction Gonzalo was looking.

Her nose twitched, and the edge of her lips curled up.

"has retribution finally found its way ?" she said absentmindedly, her voice weak from hunger and thirst.

The four men turned towards the girl, their faces twisted in annoyance and superiority as they approached her with clubs in their hands.

"this bitch. I thought you decided to remain quiet during this trip but it seems like you need to be disciplined further ?!"

The girl glanced at the men that had surrounded her while her fellow captives stole quick glances at her, scared they might infuriate the humans that bound them.

"you will face death soon, I can smell it". The girl snickered bitterly and a harsh sound echoed as one of the men's palms struck her face with a loud smack. At least it was just a slap.

The girl groaned lightly, her head jerking to the side due to the force.

The men remained silent for a while, perhaps in deep contemplation when they heard their boss quickly approaching them.

"Gordon ! Go call out the men now !" He cried out in a frenzy.

His men glanced at each other, etched with confusion when the man that slapped the werewolf nodded and quickly walked towards the bastion.

Gonzalo bit his lips, instructing his men to fortify their defense at once.

He walked towards the chain and pulled it himself, quickly leading the girls to their pens. "You lot, be quiet and follow me !" His voice sent his men in a state of urgency as they rushed around in order to get his tasks done.

'What is this, What is this feeling ?' He thought to himself. He was surrounded by fifty men in the late sixties level and yet his heart was beating terribly fast in a state of panic.

'The twelve families ? But they've never paid attention to the slums ! Ever !' His mind raced with thoughts as he walked into the bastion, pulling harder on the chain.

Four men pulled two ballistas past them, and that sight alone began to spark an unknown sensation within the twenty captives.

What was it ? Hope perhaps ? They didn't know and quite frankly, being hopeful was merely a privilege at this point.

But one of them, the werewolf with silver hair and fierce silver eyes. Two pointy beast ears protruding out of her messy muddied hair. She thought differently. As a member of the Werewolf clan compared to her peers, she always had a keen sense of smell and what she smelt now was evident.

The scent of death. Her fangs could not help but protrude out of her mouth as her lips curled up into a devious smile. She lowered her head from her enemy's gaze.

Gonzalo had gotten past his men and opened a door that led further down a row of dark stairs into a basement.

He quickly rushed down, pulling the captives with his brutal force and forcefully making them quicken their paces.

Some had fallen and were pulled until they got back up while some quickly resisted and walked faster, a new sensation burning in their chest.

He was about to turn towards another junction when a large sharp blue spike pierced through the wall and forced him to a halt.

He held his breath as a cold mist emanated from the ice spike. Horror was etched on his face.

'What, I knew it…Have I ? Have I been marked ?' He thought to himself when loud screams of horror shook the walls of the Bastion.

His men were crying helplessly and he didn't know who or what was causing it.

What he did know was the feeling of dread that coursed through his body when he turned towards the direction of the Colosseum.

He hesitated, then threw aside the chains and pushed the demi-humans away as he sprinted back up. He wasn't going to let whatever creature tear down his domain !.

This was the slums! Every single resident knew to fear him so how dare someone come to his door and cause a mess on his door steps.

No ! He won't let that slide. Pushing aside his earlier hesitation, he ran up in a frenzied anger, his countenance turning grim with darkness.