The Freed Slaves Are Obsessed

Whoosh!

The curtains flew open wide.

Morning sunlight poured in.

"Mirabel, it's morning. Time to wake up."

"Mmm..."

"If you don’t get up and get ready now, you’ll be late. The head maid will be mad at you."

"Ugh..."

Mirabel twisted her body, burying her face into the bed.

She didn’t want to get up.

But she hated the thought of getting scolded more.

After all, the head maid could be frightening when she was angry.

With great effort, Mirabel dragged herself out of bed, weighed down by the remnants of sleep. While she could’ve used magic to dispel the drowsiness, she chose not to.

It was charming when she appeared disheveled and defenseless in the morning, as Karami had once said.

It would be foolish to remove that charm herself.

She washed up with Narady and changed into the same maid uniform.

Once ready, she made her way to the main hall on the first floor.

Other maids were gathering there as well.

Fortunately, she wasn’t late.

"Those who just arrived are one minute late."

Head maid Catherine checked the clock.

Everyone was late, it seemed.

But at least it wasn’t just us.

The twenty or so maids stood in neat rows, waiting. Soon, Narsha appeared at the top of the stairs, exuding the air of a noblewoman.

The maids lowered their heads in unison.

"We greet you, Lady Narsha."

While Karami was the master here, Narsha was the one who truly managed things. The maids implicitly treated her as the mistress.

Narsha, standing at the top of the stairs, surveyed the gathered maids.

"As you all know, we are expecting a guest from Doomheim soon. Make sure not a speck of dust is visible on the floors or windows. And Catherine."

"Yes, Lady Narsha."

"If you prepare a light meal as usual, it will be a disaster. We need to prepare proper food."

Narsha turned to Bridget, the one in charge of the kitchen.

"Prepare a large amount of meat. Don’t hold back on the lamb, duck, or pork. Dwarves love their hot, oily meat."

Bridget quickly made a note.

"Don’t serve light bread like usual. Prepare something dense and chewy, like black rye bread. And the alcohol... the ale."

Narsha sighed.

Just thinking about it exhausted her.

"A massive amount of ale will be arriving ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) soon. Store it properly and make sure the guests' glasses are never empty."

"Understood."

The issue to be discussed with the dwarves of Doomheim was city construction.

This would be their first large-scale project after emerging from underground to live in the outside world.

Karami, who had done them a great favor, would be the one to handle the dealings, likely sending one of the seven Meisters in charge.

There was no room for negative talk within Karami’s domain.

'Dwarves are obsessed with alcohol, so I’ll need to get help from Victor.'

As Narsha meticulously made her preparations, the other maids scribbled notes. Soon, Narsha’s attention shifted back to Mirabel and her mother.

"Catherine, how is Miss Mirabel’s training coming along?"

"We’re in the final stages. Her learning ability is exceptional. She should have no problem attending to the elderly."

"Understood. I’ll leave that part to you, Catherine."

Narsha clapped her hands together.

"We don’t have much time. Let’s move quickly to avoid any delays. Disperse."

****

The servants moved with military precision to prepare for the valuable guests arriving at the trading company.

They cleaned the mansion and tended to the garden.

Due to Narsha’s thoroughness, it was impossible to cut corners.

Though the work was grueling, the rewards were certain.

There were breaks, snacks—treats that common folk couldn’t access—and generous salaries.

The fact that their master was a slave reaper didn’t matter. When faced with the overwhelming work-life balance, it didn’t matter.

In the end, money was the driving force.

More money, that is.

Slave reaper?

What difference did that make?

Even if he were a reaper, if he paid well, then he was a god.

As the maids worked tirelessly, Mirabel received personal training from the head maid, Catherine.

Cleaning was basic, but she also learned how to cook, prepare tea, walk properly, and perform small gestures—everything necessary for serving her master.

She was taught everything a maid needed to know in order to serve the master well.

And Catherine had told her, "There’s nothing more to teach you. You’re ready to go."

Of course, Mirabel wasn’t going down a mountain, but a building.

After a busy morning, lunchtime arrived.

Karami and his slaves, along with Victor and Leonard, had their meals prepared before the maids could eat.

Mirabel joined the other maids in the kitchen, eating the leftover food.

Though she had the right to eat with Karami, she chose to eat with the maids instead.

If she were to do something, she would do it properly.

She had been somewhat impressed by Lin’s shape-shifting magic. Right now, Mirabel was the perfect maid.

Thanks to that, Mirabel spent more time talking with the maids, and naturally, their bond grew.

After all, to the maids, she was like a cute little sister.

Even in the heat, she would use magic to cool them down and alleviate their fatigue, earning her the love of everyone as the witch Mirabel.

Right now, the maids were gathered around her, laughing together.

"Mirabel, isn’t your training over now? How was it, being taught by the head maid? Was it difficult?"

"It was hard, but it was fun. The thought that if I work just a bit harder, I can serve Master made me happy."

"Such devotion. It's hard to find anyone who wants to serve their master as much as you do."

"Really? I think all the other slaves would do the same."

"That’s what makes it so interesting."

The maids knew.

There were many slaves here, including Mirabel.

Even Narsha, whom they followed, was Karami’s slave.

If you looked at their status, the maids, who were commoners, ranked higher than Narsha.

Slaves following orders and working for their master—that’s a bizarre hierarchy that could only exist here.

"Well, it’s not that hard to understand, right?"

"That’s true. They might be called slaves, but the way they’re treated is almost like they’re lovers. They get the best food and clothes, and receive expensive jewelry as gifts, right?"

"And let’s not forget, he’s young and handsome. I almost said ‘I’ll be a slave too’ when I first met him!"

"I know what you mean. When he passes by and casually throws a smile, I just... wow. I can see why he's called the Slave Reaper—it's like the slaves willingly give their souls to him."

The maids nodded in agreement, sharing their thoughts.

"Then you should be Master's slave too!"

"Ha, as if there’s room for us to fit in."

"That’s true."

"Why’s that?"

Mirabel asked innocently, and the maids chuckled with bitter smiles.

"The other women around him are on another level."

"They’re all elves, and the others are just as stunning. When we stand next to them, we look like squids."

"I wish I could live with a face like theirs."

"Really? I’d rather live with an older body, you know. A life where I can do whatever I want with women like that. Isn’t that just the dream?"

Mirabel smiled wryly at the maids' conversation. If they knew what Karami had gone through, they’d never speak like this.

She almost used magic to show them, but held back.

"But Mirabel, we’re all on your side."

The maids said this with serious expressions.

"On my side?"

"We want you to be the one to receive Master’s affection the most."

"I want that too, but honestly, it’s not easy."

Mirabel was beautiful in her own right, but her competition was fierce.

No matter how cute or pretty someone was, to receive a man's consistent love, physical intimacy was inevitable.

But for someone like Mirabel, caught between mature women, it was an unfair position.

"Has Master ever... done anything to the slaves?"

"No. He might joke around, but he never touches a slave."

Many slaves were actually unhappy about that.

"That’s impressive..."

"I know."

Despite having so many beautiful slaves around, he never touched any of them.

What kind of saint was he?

If they were Karami, they would’ve done whatever they wanted a long time ago, the maids thought.

But it was precisely because he hadn’t that they could say such things.

The maids checked to make sure Narady wasn’t around, then cautiously spoke.

"Mirabel, what do you think Master would do if he touched the slaves?"

"Master... touched me? I’ve never thought about it..."

"Think about it now."

"To have someone like him look at me with those eyes... I think it would be an honor."

The other person must have been flawless, and Mirabel herself didn’t seem to mind.

If that’s the case, now was the time for the maids to step in and help.

"Mirabel, this is something the head maid probably hasn’t taught you, but we will."

"As a maid, as a slave, it’s your duty to learn how to make your master feel good."

What hadn’t Catherine taught her?

As a maid, as a slave, was there something she absolutely had to know?

Why hadn’t she been taught this?

"What is that?"

Mirabel’s eyes lit up, her ears perked in curiosity.

The maids gave serious, almost secretive looks, as if they were about to reveal a huge secret.

"It’s about making your master feel good."