The Freed Slaves Are Obsessed

Elise's gaze fixed on the ring.

At first glance, it was an ornament that looked incredibly expensive.

"Do people usually give rings to their slaves?"

While it wasn’t uncommon to see someone treating their slaves well, giving such a precious piece of jewelry was unheard of.

"A proposal?"

To Elise, that’s exactly what it looked like. After all, a ring given to someone usually carried that implication.

"No matter how beautiful I am, don’t you think this is a bit ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) too soon? We barely know each other."

"What are you talking about?"

"Isn’t this a proposal?"

"Why would I propose after barely meeting you?"

"Are you saying it wasn’t love at first sight?"

"Your self-love is remarkable."

Karami couldn’t suppress a hollow laugh at Elise’s confident narcissism.

"Didn’t you mention your struggles with bloodthirst? This is the solution."

The crimson gemstone.

This unique item, made by crafting a special jewel received from the Bryne family after completely freeing Narsha Bryne, was known as the Crimson Ring.

It had a variety of useful effects and could benefit anyone, but it was especially harmonious with Elise.

When Elise wore the Crimson Ring, it greatly helped suppress her vampire bloodthirst.

Although it wasn’t essential to the main story, having it made things much easier. Karami had specifically asked Torvar to craft it in advance.

"If that’s the case..."

"But there’s a condition."

So, this was the catch. Of course, there was no way he’d give away something like this for free.

"What is it?"

"Your form of address."

"Pardon?"

"Let’s set your way of addressing me straight. I am your master, after all, and the way you refer to me is... less than appropriate."

At first, Elise thought it was nonsense.

The request wasn’t difficult, and in a master-slave relationship, he had a point. Still, the idea of calling Karami "Master" made her uncomfortable.

It was an oddly cringeworthy feeling, as if her entire body were curling in on itself.

Elise pondered and came up with an alternative that might satisfy him.

"Understood. Master."

The word had nearly the same meaning but allowed Elise to maintain her dignity. In truth, it was her way of subtly challenging him by complying only on her own terms.

"Perfect. Master. It has a nice ring to it."

Contrary to her expectations, Karami beamed, seemingly delighted.

His obvious satisfaction made Elise feel as though she had been duped, though she tried to dismiss the thought.

Karami handed over the box containing the ring.

"Try it on."

The ring was luxurious enough to suit royalty, and even for someone like Elise, who had swindled people out of gold coins, it was an item worth coveting.

Yet Elise didn’t take it.

Karami tilted his head.

"What’s the matter?"

"You expect me to put it on myself? For someone giving a ring to a lady, you’re not as thoughtful as I expected."

With her index finger pressed lightly against her cheek, Elise narrowed her eyes and smiled mischievously.

She wouldn’t miss this rare chance to take the upper hand.

"My mistake. Allow me to put it on for you."

Karami slipped the ring onto the index finger of Elise’s left hand.

Elise stared at the ring on her finger.

"This is quite something..."

Even though she had thought it beautiful at first glance, wearing it felt different. It felt as though it had been made just for her, and the sensation was surprisingly pleasant.

"How does it feel?"

"I wasn’t sure at first, but now I’m certain. My urges have lessened."

Not only that, but the effects were noticeable.

With this, she wouldn’t need fresh milk to suppress her bloodthirst.

"And there’s nothing strange about it."

Even if it had been cursed, she would’ve had no choice but to wear it. Fortunately, that wasn’t the case, making her even more curious about Karami’s true intentions.

"Thank you. I’ll make good use of it."

"A master should care for their slave, after all."

With his tone and words, Karami sounded like the kindest person in the world, but Elise wasn’t a fool.

No one in this world acted without a purpose.

Not even those who claimed to serve a god.

"I’ll be going now. It wouldn’t be good to stay away for too long."

"Feel free to visit anytime if you’re bored."

Elise nodded.

As she opened the window to leave the inn and fly back to the convent, Karami watched her intently, his gaze filled with expectation.

Elise, reluctantly, spoke up.

"Have a good night... Master."

At last, Karami’s lips curled into a wide smile.

"You too, Elise."

***

After Elise left, I sat alone and finished the remaining wine.

Even the wine Elise had left behind.

"Do you know how much this stuff costs?"

Not wasting a single drop, I licked the last traces clean.

My snack? The farewell greeting Elise had offered as she left.

"Have a good night, Master♡"

"Ah~!"

There might have been a slight distortion in my recollection, but it was negligible—like a scratch on a fingernail. Either way, I had succeeded in hearing Elise call me "Master."

While "Master" was great, sometimes a bit of variation was nice to hear.

But more importantly, is it about time?

[Vampire Elise ver.■■■■■■]

At a glance, she was clearly different from previous slaves.

With other slaves, you could guess the flow of the story just by their titles. But Elise was unique.

That’s because Elise’s route changed every time. The shackles binding her varied with each iteration.

The "ver.■■■■■■" attached to her name signified this. Just like in the game, her true nature remained hidden until revealed.

Players had to gather clues from Elise’s actions to uncover her motif and respond accordingly to achieve her full liberation.

The motifs came from classic literature, with over a dozen routes.

Some were based on fairy tales, others on novels.

Elise was the slave with the highest failure rate.

Even with my knowledge of the canon, I couldn’t afford to let my guard down. There were too many ambiguities, and even small oversights could lead to disaster.

"At least it’s not the Little Match Girl."

If this were the Little Match Girl version of Elise, we wouldn’t have met in Haarlem but in the Holy Kingdom. The auction wouldn’t have featured Elise but an ordinary nun.

In that version, Elise approached you directly upon entering the Holy Kingdom.

With a line like, "Buy some matches~" turned into, "Join the Church~."

So, I could definitively rule out that route, but that was as far as I could go. Elise hadn’t taken any significant actions yet.

Unlike other slaves, whom I actively guided toward liberation, Elise moved on her own.

The starting point was the suppression of her bloodthirst.

And that time was now.

Elise would start taking action in earnest.

***

The nuns of Kassilon were remarkably competent.

Their movements were refined, as if part of a sacred ritual. Having been raised in a world that tolerated no mistakes, even their smallest actions were polished and perfect.

They were on a different level compared to the nuns commonly seen elsewhere on the continent.

Living embodiments of discipline and tradition.

They brimmed with pride. Though faith shouldn’t involve hierarchy, deep down, they believed themselves superior.

For such nuns, Elise’s presence was far from welcome.

While Elise was undoubtedly talented, she was an outsider. Her competence only fueled the other nuns’ jealousy.

Moreover, having grown up together in the same convent, they felt an even greater sense of rejection toward someone who had come from elsewhere.

To them, Elise was an invasive species.

"Look at her. A nun wearing a ring? What if it scratches the children?"

"How greedy can you be? If she loves jewelry that much, she should quit being a nun. I guess in the countryside, nobody minds extravagance?"

"And her pale face—does she smear herself with powder?"

"If it weren’t for Priest Lukas, someone like her wouldn’t have been accepted."

As Elise swept the courtyard, the nuns whispered among themselves.

Elise pretended not to hear.

She wasn’t weak enough to be shaken by such trivial remarks. In fact, enduring Karami’s constant jabs was a hundred times worse.

"There’s something unusually irritating about that man’s words."

It wasn’t just his tone or choice of words—there was something more. No matter how hard she tried to block it out, his voice pierced directly into her ears.

Was he using magic?

"He doesn’t seem like a mage."

And if it were magic, she would’ve noticed.

It was an inexplicable mystery.

Almost like a divine miracle.

As if that man were a god.

Of course, that was impossible.

"Ack!"

A faint cry interrupted Elise’s thoughts, which had been unshaken until then.

A young girl, running through the courtyard, had tripped over a stone and fallen.

She was a novice nun dressed in a tiny habit.

"Tana! How many times have I told you not to run? A nun should always carry herself with dignity!"

"S-Sorry... sniffle..."

Though she was in pain, being scolded by the nun prevented Tana from crying freely. She choked back her tears with difficulty.

"You’re okay..."

Elise crouched to check on Tana’s condition, but her movement suddenly froze.

Blue hair.

The girl had fallen hard, scraping her palms and knees. Blood trickled from her wounds, and her tear-filled eyes looked ready to burst into sobs.

A model nun would have helped Tana to her feet, calmed her frightened heart, and healed her wounds with a blessing.

But Elise remained motionless, frozen in place.

"Sister Elise? Why aren’t you helping her?"

"..."

"Sister Elise?"

Her crimson pupils trembled violently.

Then, without warning, Elise pushed off the ground and bolted.

"Hey! Where are you going?!"

Despite the calls to stop, Elise didn’t look back and disappeared in an instant.

She reached the deserted back of the cathedral.

Leaning against a wall for support, her already pale skin seemed even paler. Her complexion was visibly worse.

Her breaths were shallow and rapid, punctuated by occasional dry heaves.

"Not yet..."

She thought she was over it.

But it seemed she still hadn’t escaped the nightmare of that day, drenched in blood.