The Freed Slaves Are Obsessed

The Great Forest.

It was a world unto itself.

A mystical forest bathed in shades of green, sunlight streaming through the leaves, and moss carpeting the ground like a soft, plush rug beneath their feet.

The massive trees reached up to obscure the sky, their branches bent under the weight of time, creating natural ramps that one could easily walk up.

It was a sacred land where life’s breath could be felt in every corner. Everything here moved slowly, as though time itself were at peace, making the place serene and calm—a veritable paradise for elves.

"Why are we here? I’m not too fond of this place," Arpia muttered.

Despite its beauty, Arpia didn’t like this supposed paradise at all.

The forest’s stillness made it difficult to keep track of time. If you stayed here too long, you might find that decades had passed in the blink of an eye.

To Arpia, it was nothing more than a prison of eternal pain. Nothing more, nothing less.

"I’ve got business here."

"Business? I don’t know what you’ve got planned, but I wouldn’t recommend going any further. If a non-elf ventures too deep into the Great Forest..."

"Stop."

The voice was soft yet chilling, completely at odds with the tranquil forest around them.

The bushes rustled.

Emerging from the foliage were a group of elves, their features androgynous, their expressions cold.

They had surrounded Karamir and Arpia, their bows drawn and aimed at the two.

"The Forest Sentinels..."

Arpia sighed heavily.

The Sentinels of the Forest.

A group composed of the strongest and most elite elf warriors, protectors of the Great Forest. They were akin to the knightly orders of human kingdoms.

"What’s going on here?"

One elf stepped forward.

To Karamir, they all looked the same, much like how some Westerners think all Asians look alike, or how Asians think the same of Black people. The elves shared such similar features that discerning gender or age was nearly impossible.

This elf wore a laurel wreath, but beyond that, there was no indication of their gender or age.

'He's a guy,' Karamir mused.

With a quick glance at Arpia and then back at the elf, Karamir made his judgment. Flat chest—definitely male.

"Captain, intruders."

"Then why haven’t you dealt with them yet? Just—"

The elf captain’s words trailed off when he locked eyes with Arpia, his gaze narrowing.

"Arpia?"

"Yeah, it’s been a while, Rion."

It was clear from their awkward exchange that the two knew each other, though Arpia’s discomfort was apparent.

Arpia and Rion had been opposites since childhood. Arpia, the 'flawed elf,' and Rion, the 'perfect elf' who excelled at everything.

Arpia had heard adults sigh countless times, "If only you were even half as good as Rion..."

No one liked being constantly compared to the source of their low self-esteem.

"Weren’t you exiled from the village? Why are you here? Actually, never mind that right now."

Rion’s wary gaze shifted to Karamir.

"You... You’re a human. What were you thinking, bringing him here, Arpia?"

"Well..."

Karamir stepped forward, and though the Sentinels moved to stop him, Rion raised a hand to halt them.

"Greetings, Rion. My name is Karamir, and I’m Arpia’s master."

"Master...?"

Rion blinked, clearly not understanding the word at first.

When the meaning sank in, his pupils dilated before his eyes sharpened with fury. He raised his bow, nocking an arrow in one smooth motion.

An elf’s arrow whistled through the air. Arpia, reaching back for her own bow, suddenly remembered that it had broken in their last battle. In a panic, she shoved Karamir’s head down.

"Ugh!"

The arrow grazed just over their heads. Arpia barely had time to sigh in relief before her concern turned into anger, which she directed at Rion.

"What the hell are you doing?! You could’ve killed him!"

"That’s what I should be asking you! What’s going on here? You’ve become a human’s slave, brought him into the Great Forest, and now you’re protecting him? Is this some kind of revenge for being exiled?"

"It’s only natural for a slave to protect their master."

"Exactly. Maybe you’re just out of touch with the real world, living in your little well."

Even if the well was a bit spacious.

For the first time, Rion’s perfectly calm demeanor cracked. Having followed an elite path his whole life, Rion had no tolerance for mockery, and it showed in the slight tremble of his bow.

"Stop wagging that sharp tongue of yours and leave Arpia behind. If you don’t, I’ll burn you to ashes and use your bones as fertilizer for our trees."

"Oh, it would be an honor for my ashes to help grow the trees of your forest."

Rion gritted his teeth, his patience fraying. His frustration manifested in the appearance of a flame spirit behind him.

Fwoosh.

The spirit flared up, ready to incinerate anything in its path. Karamir wisely took a step back. He’d pushed it far enough and had no desire to be roasted alive.

"There’s no need to be so angry. We’re just here for some business, and we’ll be on our way."

"What business could a human possibly have in the Great Forest?"

"Actually, it’s not me who has business here, but Arpia."

Karamir pushed Arpia forward—definitely not as a shield in case Rion decided to launch a fireball.

"I plan to have Arpia participate in the Dance of the Fairy Festival."

The Dance of the Fairy Festival.

A grand elven tournament and festival held only once every half-century. It was a battlefield of honor where elves competed to see whose martial skills were superior and who could best commune with the spirits.

It was also the final step toward her freedom.

"Pfft."

Someone snickered. The derisive laugh quickly spread like wildfire, and soon the entire group of Sentinels was in hysterics.

Even Rion, usually stoic, was struggling to contain his laughter, his composure on the verge of cracking.

"The Dance of the Fairy Festival? This drunkard who’s been drowning in alcohol every day?"

"That’s none of your concern. The festival is meant to prove one’s worth, and any elf is eligible to participate."

"And how would you know that...?"

Rion glared at Arpia as if to say, How much did you tell him?

Arpia shrugged, signaling she had no idea what he was talking about. To Rion, it looked like she was mocking him, but in truth, she genuinely didn’t know.

Arpia could only guess that Karamir had learned about the festival from one of the elves he’d previously enslaved.

"There’s no need for concern. I only know what I need to know, and what I don’t know, I don’t. Now, if you’ll kindly move aside, we’d hate to miss the festival."

"Even if that were true, Arpia may enter, but you certainly cannot."

"She’s my slave, so I must accompany her. Who knows what strange things you might try to pull?"

"The only one who would try something ‘strange’ here is you...!"

Just listening to Karamir was giving Rion a headache, like his ears were being polluted. Any longer, and he might just cut them off to stop the rot.

Rion was about to signal the Sentinels when Arpia stepped in front of Karamir. Her body began to glow with the unmistakable energy of a spirit, radiant and powerful.

The intensity of the spirit’s presence made Rion’s eyes widen in surprise.

"You..."

"Move aside, Rion. We’re going in."

They now had a new entourage.

Elves ahead of them, elves to their left, elves to their right, and elves behind them. To an outsider, it might have looked like Karamir was being escorted, but the vines wrapped tightly around his wrists made it clear he was a prisoner.

If Arpia hadn’t been with him, he would have already been turned into a pincushion for their arrows.

But Karamir didn’t care. That wasn’t what was important to him right now.

"Dammit, I want to play Tycoon so bad."

In his head, he was already picturing a cute, SD-styled version of the elves, working away in his imaginary game.

There were so many elves!

He could send them out to hunt for ingredients, gather herbs for potions, and sell those potions for profit. They were the ultimate resource, and all he could do was watch!

It was heartbreaking.

Only those who had played Pop Team Tycoon would understand his pain.

The group moved through the labyrinthine Great Forest without pause, often encountering paths blocked by trees or vines. The leading elf would speak an incantation, causing the space to ripple and reveal a hidden route.

It was an illusion magic, meant to prevent intruders from penetrating the forest.

Each time a new path opened, they moved forward, repeating the process several times. It was a maze no non-elf could hope to navigate.

"This is ridiculous," Karamir muttered, barely able to suppress his frustration. "They threw Arpia out into the wilderness despite having this kind of security?"

Sure, she might have set a few things on fire and maybe stabbed a couple of holes in the wrong places, but seriously, these elves were too uptight.

If she were his slave, he would’ve made sure to teach her some proper manners.

Karamir clicked his tongue.

Eventually, signs of civilization began to emerge. Paths that had been cleared, and young elves playing along the way.

‘They might look young, but they’re probably older than me,’ Karamir mused.

Young elves...

Legal lolis...

Tales of Fantasy Restoration...

"Ugh."

Karamir clutched his chest.

Arpia quickly turned around, concerned.

"What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?"

"Just... some bad memories."

It was like he was experiencing a nightmare while fully awake. Karamir couldn’t clear his head for a long time.