Chapter 219: Common Sense

The surrounding reactions were, if anything, leaning toward Neil’s side.

It made sense. Everyone here was a noble, and for them, slavery was just a fact of life. Even Cynthia probably didn’t harbor a deep-seated hatred for the institution itself. Of course, they believed that senseless violence should be eradicated, but in their eyes, that was a completely separate issue.

I’d clashed with Allen once before during a history lesson on the subject. At the time, I’d simply provided an answer that aligned with the morals of this world and this era.

Ironically, if we were talking strictly about personal feelings, it wasn’t like I didn’t understand where he was coming from. Acts that trample on human rights... in another world, they really ought to be abolished.

But that was strictly my own subjective take. I had no idea what Priscilla’s life had been like or how she ended up in her current state. In fact, I didn’t know the first thing about her. She was an anomaly even in the Original Story, a character whose background was never really explored.

“Give me a break. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t push your selfish assumptions on me,” Neil said, spitting the words out with a composed look.

He then reached out, intentionally brushing his fingers against Priscilla’s neck. At a glance, the Slave Crest looked like a stylish tattoo, but it was the mark of someone who had been stripped of their humanity. It wasn’t some primitive brand seared into the skin with a hot iron; it was a magical construct, specially crafted by a talented mage. It was a curse—once engraved, it could never be removed. And it ensured the victim could never, ever defy their master.

However, even the nobility generally found this specific practice distasteful. Dignity was important to them. If they absolutely had to use a crest, they’d usually engrave it somewhere inconspicuous. Displaying it on a visible place like the neck was basically shouting to the world that you had zero class.

To be honest, most people didn't use them at all. They were typically reserved for situations where rebellion would be a genuine problem, such as with combat slaves. While the system was inherently cruel, plenty of people still advocated for the basic dignity of slaves—the idea that even they deserved a bare minimum of respect.

Allen was clearly fuming, his irritation mounting as he faced a senior who refused to listen to reason. But Neil was sharp; he was almost certainly provoking the kid on purpose.

From a legal perspective, Allen was the one making unreasonable demands. More importantly, what did he think was going to happen if he, a commoner, picked a fight with the ducal House Albert?

As a game plot, this was top-tier drama, but in reality? It was a total shitshow. This was going to be a massive pain in the ass, but I couldn't just sit back and let him trigger a "Game Over" here.

Allen still has a job to do. Whether it’s taking down the Demon King or helping me get stronger, I need him to play his part as my stepping stone.

“Cynthia, stay back.”

“Weiss? What are you doing?”

“Don’t worry,” I replied. “Just playing the mediator.”

I stepped forward.

Neil looked down his nose at me from his high horse. Hah, you piece of garbage.

Well, to be fair, he hadn’t actually done anything to me yet. Not in this timeline, anyway.