Reborn as the Failed Lord with my Resource Gathering System.

Seraphina and Maria watched in silence.

Written on their faces were hints of anger and a bit of concern. Deep down, they wanted to end the whole thing then and there.

No further proof was needed, not after everything they had witnessed so far.

But since Dorian had not given them the word to act on it yet, it must mean he was waiting to see something.

Thus, their gazes were pulled back to the stage, just as his was.

Looking back, they could see the woman now standing in front of the elf closest to her, her arms wrapped around the elf's shoulder.

"Number 56," she uttered out loud.

The elf in question was a pretty female elf with red hair packed in a ponytail.

She wore a yellow dress and had a silver iron collar on her neck. Her eyes held no life; she simply stood there, not speaking a word or fighting back, even after the veiled woman began touching her inappropriately.

First, she grabbed the elf's left breast and squeezed it so hard that the poor elf had to wince in pain.

"She is the finest model we have here. I am sure you gentlemen can see how beautiful she is; her skin is flawless."

Next, she used her other hand to lift the elf's dress, lifting it enough for everyone to nearly see her panties.

But that wasn't all. Since her dress was up, the veiled woman could freely rub her thighs as much as she wanted, even reaching toward her heavenly gates.

"She is a virgin, and I assure you, we have not harmed a single hair on her head. So, is she worth your money?"

"1000 gold coins!" yelled one noble in the crowd.

Dorian's eyes widened in rage. A thousand gold coins for an entire living being?

'What?'

Hearing the man's price, the veiled woman smiled.

"A bit small, but we can work with it." She then stepped back and gestured for a single guard with her fingers.

Once the guard arrived, he stationed himself behind the elf while holding a terrifyingly long whip in his hand.

"Does anyone want to raise the price for a more… 'intimate' experience?" the veiled woman purred, her eyes scanning the eager faces in the crowd.

Another noble, larger and more brutish than the first, bellowed, "2000 gold coins! And I want to see her scream!"

A collective gasp, then murmurs of approval rippled through the audience.

Dorian felt a cold, hard knot of fury tighten in his gut.

This wasn't just about buying a person; it was about feeding their weird kinks and mental drawbacks..

The veiled woman's smile widened, a truly monstrous expression.

"An excellent offer! Prepare the girl, guard. Our esteemed patron desires a… vocal performance."

The guard, a hulking figure with a cruel glint in his eye, wasted no time.

He grabbed the elf by her red ponytail, yanking her head back sharply.

A low whimper escaped her lips. The whip, thick and ominous, cracked through the air.

The sound was like a gunshot, echoing in the hushed chamber.

The first strike landed across her back, tearing through the thin yellow fabric of her dress.

A strangled cry, quickly stifled, came from the elf.

Seraphina covered her mouth, her eyes wide with horror, while Maria's hands clenched into fists, her knuckles white.

They both looked at Dorian, a silent plea in their eyes for him to give the command.

But Dorian remained still, his gaze fixed on the stage, a terrifying calm on his face that masked a brewing storm.

The guard raised the whip again, the leather whistling through the air.

This time, he aimed for her side, and another strip of fabric, along with a thin line of blood, appeared.

The elf's legs buckled, but the guard held her firmly by her hair, forcing her to remain upright.

Each crack of the whip, each choked cry, seemed to chip away at the last vestiges of Dorian's control.

He saw not just an elf, but every innocent being who had ever suffered under the weight of such cruelty.

"Three thousand! Make her beg!" another voice roared, fueled by the sadistic spectacle.

The veiled woman's laughter echoed, a chilling sound that sent shivers down Seraphina's spine.

"It seems we have many connoisseurs of fine suffering tonight! Bring out the others!"

From a side door, two more guards emerged, dragging two new elves onto the stage.

One was a male with dark, curly hair, his eyes wide with terror, already bruised and bleeding. The other was a young female, barely more than a child, her delicate features contorted in a silent plea.

Both wore similar iron collars and the same blank, defeated expressions that the first elf had worn before the torture began.

The air thickened with the scent of fear and the promise of more agony. Dorian's hands clenched into fists, his knuckles turning white, a silent tremor running through his body.

The storm was no longer brewing; it was about to break.

He had initially planned to wait and see the people who would opt to buy an elf slave, track them down with the authorities, and send them to jail for breaking the law.

If this happened, this entire place would have been exposed along with all the nobles who had been involved in the entire thing.

But after seeing not only that they planned to buy slaves, but that they were torturing the innocent souls for their own entertainment like animals, he could no longer hold himself back.

The sound of the whips still echoed in the background, like lightning strikes, along with the cries of the elves as they each fell to the ground, begging to be spared.

[Notice. The dragon, Child of Ragnor, has sensed your anger and has requested to join you.]

Dorian ignored the system.

Not a smirk, not a frown.

He grabbed Maria by the arm and pulled her down so he could whisper in her ear.

"Kill them."

That was his order.