The Freed Slaves Are Obsessed

"So, Your Majesty is stating that this entire matter is unfounded?"

"How many times must I say it? I have never even spoken to that human, let alone entered the World Tree’s embrace with him."

In the Great Forest's council hall, a tense interrogation was underway.

At the head of the chamber, seated like a criminal on trial, was Queen Evrelia of the elves. Surrounding her were the elven elders and other key figures of the Great Forest.

Their eyes, filled with suspicion, bore into her.

Why is this happening to me?

Evrelia was indignant.

Born a high elf, she had ascended to the throne without ever causing a single scandal. She could swear on her conscience that—

...

Well, maybe there had been one incident. Back when she didn’t know what wigs were, she’d once yanked off an elder’s wig as a prank.

But aside from that, her record was spotless.

To go from a universally respected elven queen to a scandal-ridden outcast in a single day—it was outrageously unfair.

"It’s truly not true, is it?"

"It isn’t! I swear upon the World Tree!"

"If you’re willing to swear such an oath, then..."

Reluctantly, Evrelia deployed her ultimate argument. Finally, the elders began to accept that the allegations were false, though the damage to her dignity as queen was already done.

Still, even baseless slander needed to be addressed and corrected.

"Elder, send word to all elven elders immediately—or better yet, dispatch messengers directly."

"Understood. Whom shall we send?"

"That would be..."

"I’ll go."

All eyes turned to the speaker.

Standing boldly was none other than the mischievous Arpia Liliand.

Though many still harbored reservations about her, Arpia was the undisputed champion of the Spirit Dancers’ festival and one of the elves' greatest warriors.

Even without an official position, her presence at the meeting was justified. Now, she was volunteering to act as the envoy.

"You’ll go, Arpia?"

"Yes. I’m free at the moment, and wouldn’t it be far more convincing if I delivered the message personally?"

"That’s... true."

As Evrelia hesitated, the elders hurriedly objected.

"This cannot be allowed, Your Majesty. While it is true that Arpia is a formidable warrior, she is also impulsive and lacks the necessary refinement."

"Hmm..."

"It would be unwise to entrust her with an official task of this nature. It would be far safer to send Leon. He is dependable and leaves nothing to chance."

"You have a point. Leon would certainly be reliable."

Evrelia nodded thoughtfully, but Arpia interjected immediately.

"Leon needs to remain here to fulfill his duties as the sentinel commander. Besides, when it comes to matters beyond the Great Forest, no one here knows the outside world better than I do."

"Hm."

Evrelia deliberated.

Arpia had volunteered directly.

But what would happen if she assigned the task to Leon instead?

He’d barge into my chambers every night.

He’d constantly pester her, too.

The thought alone made her head throb. She’d be lucky if Arpia didn’t secretly follow him.

In that case, it was better to entrust the task to Arpia from the start.

"Very well. I’ll assign this matter to Arpia."

"Your Majesty!"

"My decision is final. No further arguments."

At Evrelia’s firm declaration, the elders fell silent. Evrelia let out a shallow sigh as she rose from her seat.

"That concludes today’s meeting. Everyone is dismissed. I’m tired."

+++++

Shaaack!

Behind the Reaper's Trading Company, the sharp sound of weapons cutting through the air echoed in the training grounds, a space established to help young elves hone their martial skills.

On one side stood Narsha Brian.

Dressed not in her usual formal social gown, but in combat-ready battle attire, her rapier in hand, her red hair streaming as she moved. She looked more like a knight than the noblewoman she usually resembled.

Her opponent was the dark elf Lenard.

Clad in short, tight-fitting garments that exposed his toned abs and thighs, his face was obscured by a black mask—a textbook assassin's appearance. For Lenard, this was practically everyday wear, though it harkened back to his pre-employment days at the Marquis’s court.

Both Narsha and Lenard were skilled in martial arts. Without regular practice, their skills dulled. So, whenever time allowed, they sparred.

Clang!

Lenard crossed his twin daggers in a reverse grip, blocking Narsha's strike. Sparks flew as metal met metal.

Narsha pressed on with relentless strikes, her rapier moving like a torrential storm, leaving Lenard no room to catch his breath.

He quickly moved his daggers to parry her strikes, his mind racing.

She's fast...!

Lenard was an assassin. He could hold his own against brute-force fighters, but when it came to speed, he was confident in his superiority.

Yet Narsha's attacks blew holes in his confidence. Her unrelenting offense disregarded any balance of attack and defense.

Narsha.

She wanted to avoid being hit at all costs.

Narsha.

She wanted to hit her opponent, nothing more.

Just hit, and then hit again.

And even after that, hit some more.

If she could beat everyone without taking a single blow, she’d do it without hesitation.

Her actions spoke louder than words.

I need to retreat for now...

A direct confrontation wasn’t feasible. He needed to create an opening and launch a counterattack.

Hwoosh!

Lenard called forth a shadow cloud spirit.

Black mist billowed from his body.

He stepped back, retreating into the veil of shadows.

But in front of Narsha, this was a grave mistake.

Crack!

The ground beneath her cracked.

Red energy burst forth as Narsha accelerated, her figure streaking forward like a beam of light.

A single line of crimson pierced through Lenard, scattering the encasing shadow mist.

"Ugh."

Lenard let out a groan, his body staggering before collapsing to his knees on the ground.

"Haa... haa..."

He gasped for breath, finally releasing the air he’d been holding during their fight.

"Are you alright?"

Narsha sheathed her rapier and offered him her hand.

After catching his breath, Lenard took her hand and stood up.

"You did well. That was a good match."

"......"

Lenard couldn’t bring himself to agree, not even with a polite lie. If this had been a real fight, he wouldn’t have even realized he was dead before it was over.

The belated realization of his near-death experience chilled him to the bone.

His complexion turned pale, though as a dark elf, it didn’t show.

"Your strength never ceases to amaze me. How much have you trained?"

"Hmm? Two years?"

"...What?"

Two years—a blink of an eye for an elf, and not a long time even by human standards.

It was hard to believe she’d gained such overwhelming strength in just two years, especially considering Narsha wasn’t born into a powerful lineage.

Narsha’s expression turned blissful as she replied.

"It’s all thanks to my master."

"...Why is he coming up again?"

"Because it is thanks to him. I was nothing more than a useless noble lady. My master took me in and gave me a new life."

Narsha, who was otherwise composed and flawless, transformed whenever the topic of Karami came up.

Lenard found it hard to believe at first, but now he couldn’t help wondering if it might actually be true. Not just Narsha, but Arpia, his other slave, was also unnaturally strong.

Perhaps Karami had some secret ability to cultivate his slaves’ growth.

"You should ask him to take you as a slave when he returns, Lenard. I’m sure you’d become far stronger than you are now."

Was that really the right mindset? Asking to be enslaved...?

Lenard still couldn’t wrap his head around that perspective.

"Oh, Miss Arpia. Have you returned from the Great Forest?"

Narsha, mid-conversation with Lenard, noticed Arpia entering the trading company grounds.

"Yeah. I’m leaving again soon."

"Leaving? What do you mean?"

Arpia explained what had happened in the Great Forest.

After listening, Narsha quickly grasped the situation.

"So, you’re leaving right away?"

"Yep. I’ve already talked things through with the folks at the Great Forest."

Elves were known for their patience when it came to time.

They wouldn’t bat an eye at being a day or two late for a meeting, and a promise to return "soon" could mean ten years without a second thought.

But for Arpia, the months since Karami had left felt like an eternity.

Time had never moved so slowly. Waiting had never been so difficult.

Not even a year had passed, yet it felt like millennia.

Initially, she had planned to wait quietly for Karami’s return, but she’d changed her mind.

The Princess of Snow? What is that supposed to mean?

Arpia still kept the leaf-shaped letter Karami had left behind, where he’d written that he was going to the Beastman Nation to take care of a pitiful fox.

She understood that much.

But once he’d finished, he should have ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) returned. Instead, he was wandering off to strange places again.

It was obvious—he was probably in the north, cozying up with a new slave. Waiting idly wasn’t an option. If she stayed still, she could already envision him bringing back dozens of women.

With the excuse of delivering a message, Arpia decided to bring Karami back herself.

"Shall I come with you?"

Narsha casually offered to join her. She’d traveled extensively with Karami during her days as a slave and was itching for an adventure.

But Arpia shook her head firmly.

"What nonsense. You need to stay here and run the trading company. Who else would manage it if not you?"

That was true.

The Reaper's Trading Company was on a sharp upward trajectory. If Narsha left her post, it would nosedive, undoing all their progress.

"...You’re right. There’s no other way for now."

Though Narsha would miss Arpia, she had no intention of stopping her.

The mischievous flower was withering by the day, scratching her beautiful form with countless thorns.

Arpia packed lightly.

A pouch of money from Narsha.

Her prize from winning the Spirit Dancers' festival: a teal-green bow crafted from the branches, leaves, and vines of the World Tree. A crown symbolizing her status as the strongest elf.

She didn’t forget to pack the Rachnia pollen, either.

For she was Arpia, the eternally tormented elf. Only through suffering could she stay close to Karami.