The Freed Slaves Are Obsessed

Victor, the Shadow Duke.

Once the leader of a renowned assassin guild, he had retired and settled in Noktar, running the tavern Duke of the Night Banquet.

His only blood relative, his granddaughter Emily, had been suffering from an incurable disease.

Every day had been a constant state of unease.

And ironically, it wasn’t a priest, nor a doctor, who saved Emily.

It was a slave trader.

Karami, the Slave Reaper.

Victor could never forget him.

Not only because he was the man who saved Emily’s life, but also because an assassin and a slave trader made for an oddly well-matched pair.

Despite the age gap, they were friends.

It had been a little over a year since Karami left Noktar.

Judging by his reckless behavior, Victor had half-expected him to never return alive.

Yet somehow, Karami had made it back in one piece.

Limbs intact. Breathing.

Victor had planned to close the bar early for a quiet drink with him, a chance to share stories of his travels.

But instead—

"Uuughhh..."

"Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you?"

He wasn’t injured, nor was he dying—yet the poor bastard seemed completely broken.

From the moment Victor first laid eyes on him, Karami had been sitting there, vacant and hollow-eyed.

At first, Victor figured it was just post-journey exhaustion.

A little alcohol should help him unwind, right?

Wrong.

Even after being brought to the bar, Karami just sat there in a daze, muttering nonsense under his breath.

And this had been going on for days.

"I was the Master... I tried so hard... but the slaves—"

The mumbled words barely made sense, but from what little Victor could piece together, the slaves had done something.

Victor had caught glimpses of the women Karami had returned with.

And the first thought that crossed his mind?

"Why the fuck are they slaves?"

Had the definition of slavery changed?

Or had he just grown old and forgotten something?

Victor prided himself on his skills, but even he knew he wouldn’t stand a chance against those women.

Yet somehow, every single one of them called Karami Master.

It made no goddamn sense.

Then again, Karami had always been good to kids.

Victor figured there was some unknown story behind it all.

And judging from Karami’s current state, whatever that story was, something had gone terribly wrong.

"Hah. So, the infamous Slave Reaper is finally paying for his sins," said Leonard, the dark elf. He sneered, clearly enjoying the sight.

"You’re the one who spread that nonsense rumor about me and the Elf Queen, aren’t you? Consider this karma, you bastard. Take it like a man."

"Uuugh..."

Karami didn’t even react.

He downed his drink, then slumped over the table like a fucking slime.

Ding-a-ling~

The door opened, the small bell chiming softly.

Arpia peeked in cautiously.

She scanned the room, saw Karami sprawled out like roadkill, and shot Victor and Leonard a questioning look.

How bad is he?

Leonard waved her off—not his problem.

Victor simply shook his head. Hopeless.

Arpia sighed, walked over to Karami, and gently placed a hand on his back.

"Dear... Everyone’s waiting. Let’s go back, okay?"

"......."

Karami rose to his feet.

Without a word, he walked out of the bar.

Arpia tried to speak to him, but he didn’t respond.

Didn’t even look at her.

He went straight to his room.

The door shut behind him with a thud.

A boundary no slave could cross.

Arpia hesitated, then turned away.

****

Late Night.

The perfect time for whispered conspiracies.

Six slaves gathered in a single room.

No need to say names—everyone looked equally restless.

"How is Master doing?"

"I don’t know. Same as yesterday. Didn’t even look at me."

Arpia’s voice was blunt, bordering on frustration.

A collective sigh filled the room.

This entire situation had started because they had bound themselves to him without his consent.

Since then, Karami had spoken to no one.

And to them, this was hell on earth.

It was far worse than being apart.

Because nothing hurt more than being right next to him, yet treated as if they didn’t exist.

"Mirabel, can’t you use your book to find a solution?"

Arpia’s suggestion was simple—check the All-Knowing Tome for answers.

If that book held the knowledge of the world, surely it could provide a way to fix this.

But Mirabel shook her head firmly.

"That would be an insult to Master."

She would not cross that line.

A maid’s duty was to understand her Master’s heart.

Using magic to manipulate his emotions was no different from toying with him.

A maid must be able to read her Master’s emotions without the use of magic.

"And if we rely on magic now, we’ll just keep relying on it every time something goes wrong in the future."

No.

This was something they had to fix themselves.

"Scary Rami... don’t know what to do."

"Me neither."

"I’ve seen him like this before," Lin muttered.

"...I have as well," Mirabel admitted.

"How?" Arpia asked.

Lin and Mirabel both grimaced.

"Lin tried to sneak energy from him. Got caught. Got punished."

"I... lost control once. Got drunk on my own power. Master was the scariest thing in the world that day."

"How did you make him forgive you?"

"I cried and begged him not to hate me."

"...Same."

The room fell into awkward silence.

No one wanted to admit it, but they were all thinking the same thing.

There’s no way we’re all going to throw ourselves at his feet and start sobbing, right?

Lin smirked.

"Oh, you will. You all will."

She sounded far too certain.

But that wasn’t an option.

Six people weeping at his feet? No fucking way.

"In the end, we have to change Master's mind."

"Yeah, no shit. But how?"

As everyone fumbled for ideas, Narsha finally spoke.

"Master once said something," she recalled. "He said he doesn’t trust people... but he does trust slaves."

"Because of the shackles?"

"Exactly. As long as we are shackled, we cannot betray him. But what we did—was the ultimate betrayal."

A slave that could defy orders was a ticking time bomb.

A slave must be controlled.

Yet they had bound themselves to him against his will and even refused to obey him.

Was it any surprise he felt betrayed?

Was it any surprise he felt afraid?

"Then we need to find a way to ease Master's fears while keeping the contract intact."

Another moment of silence.

Mirabel’s eyes suddenly lit up.

"I have an idea..."

"What is it? Just say it. No one else has come up with anything better."

Encouraged by Arpia, Mirabel hesitated—then carefully spoke.

"Are you all... willing to offer everything to Master?"

****

Karami had never felt so powerless since the possession.

The goal of reincarnation. The goal of liberating the pitiful slaves.

These two goals converged into one path, which he had followed steadfastly.

However, at the final stage, he was overturned. And by the very slaves he had firmly believed in.

The shock of betrayal was indescribable.

With the goals gone, what was left to do?

The reversed master-slave relationship. An existence no different from a puppet king.

Karami quietly tilted his drink in the dark room, unlit.

Knock, knock, knock.

"I'm sorry for the late hour, Master. May I enter? I have something urgent to discuss," said Mirabel's voice.

Karami didn't respond.

"I know it’s rude, but... please allow me this intrusion."

The firmly shut door opened. Six slaves entered.

Mirabel, Lin, Arpia. Narsha, Ashies, Elise.

They stood before Karami in that order.

Even those who usually bickered were silent at this moment.

Karami didn't even glance at them, just swirled his drink, watching the liquor slosh about to the brim.

"It seems I don't recall inviting you in..."

"We have something we must tell you, Master."

"If you prefer your desires over your master’s orders, then don’t claim to be my slaves and leave."

"I’m sorry. But as I’ve said over and over, we can't be without you, Master."

"Do as you please. There’s nothing I can do to stop you."

Karami scoffed, resigned, and took another sip of his drink.

The slaves exchanged looks, signaling each other, then slowly moved.

They knelt and laid flat on the ground, foreheads touching the floor, exposing their backs under their master’s gaze.

A posture of humiliating submission.

Yet, they hesitated not, nor did they feel ashamed. Instead, they seemed to have set down a heavy burden, a strange sense of relief washing over them.

Karami’s gaze finally fell on them.

"What is this you are doing?"

"We are your slaves, your possessions. If you do not approve of us, you may remodel our bodies and personalities as you wish. Please just allow us to stay by your side."

"Please..."

The slaves spoke in unison.

Any form was acceptable. Even if they ceased to be themselves.

Even if only their souls remained after their bodies perished, they would remain his slaves.

That was their plea to keep the contract intact.

"Your actions to remain slaves undermine all my efforts up to now. Do you understand this?"

"I’m sorry."

"And you still insist on this?"

"I’m sorry."

They repeated 'sorry' mechanically.

A long silence ensued.

The power that could shake the world had them cowering like mice.

A pressure heavier than anything they had ever faced.

The silence was suffocating, each moment stretching into eternity.

Then, Karami broke the oppressive silence.

"I have always prided myself on treating my slaves no worse than others. I’ve respected you and treated you as individuals, not just slaves."

"That's true."

"You are the ones who tainted my goodwill. Don’t expect me to treat you as before if I accept you back."

"..."

"This is the last mercy and chance I can offer you. Think carefully and answer."

He was offering them a choice.

The first option.

"If you wish to be free, terminate the contract now and leave. We’ll remain on good terms, cherishing the memories we shared."

It was silent. No one moved.

That wasn't what they wanted. They had never even considered such an option.

They held their breath, waiting. Waiting for his next words.

And then.

The air grew cold.

A cutting gaze pierced through the backs of their heads.

"If you wish to end as contemptible beings, tamed like livestock, then show your loyalty."

To offer oneself in this manner was an act not befitting a human.

Disqualified as a human.

Unable to escape even ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) in death.

Yet, the irresistible pull. The crushing weight of submission was unstoppable.

No need for petty pride or reason.

A blessing only beautiful women could receive.

They were chosen.

If they discarded their human dignity, they could live the best life as slaves.

A tight sensation gripped their chests.

A bright burst of euphoria. Relief on one hand.

Above them floated six souls.

A blue soul with a conical hat. The pink soul of a gumiho. The soul of a fairy with a floral crown. The soul of a frozen heart. The blood-drenched soul of a bat. And the glittering golden soul.

All souls were fettered in black chains.

"We offer our bodies, minds, and souls to you, Master. We swear here to live on as slaves even after death."

The souls drifted toward Karami.

As he watched the souls in his hand, Karami twisted a smile.

"You truly are... irredeemable slaves."