In the forest, a slave army of over three hundred people, without shackles, dressed in tattered clothes, each bearing the uniform slave mark on their necks, looked gaunt and malnourished, yet their bellies were full.
Now, some were pushing heavily laden carts in groups of a few, while others carried heavy loads on their backs alone.
Under the leadership of Emilia, who drove the carriage at the front of the group, they marched grandly toward the former Demon King’s castle.
They set off toward an unknown future.
Sieg, sitting in the carriage, closed his eyes to sense his surroundings.
Behind and on both sides of the group were mercenary cavalry squads clad in full plate armor, along with high-ranking mages on horseback, tasked with protecting the entire convoy, preventing unexpected incidents, or at least minimizing the loss of slaves to ensure the group’s safety.
This was also to prevent the slaves from collectively escaping or rioting.
It was a precaution—better safe than sorry, even with the slave marks suppressing them.
A faint, ethereal shout echoed in his ears, the voice cautious, as if afraid of being overheard by outsiders.
“Sieg, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”
At this moment, Emilia, the young girl with lingering unease, gripped the reins with her slender hands.
She let out a silent sigh, glancing around with an inexplicable sense of anxiety.
Turning back, she looked at Sieg, who sat calmly in the carriage.
Sieg, lounging with his legs crossed, didn’t respond immediately.
With an oppressive gaze reminiscent of Hakimi, he squinted and carefully observed the three slaves in the large carriage—men, women, and a beastman.
These individuals didn’t have to work because they were carefully selected by Emilia.
Her ability as the Empire’s Saintess allowed her to see subtle, hidden qualities—things she couldn’t quite explain, just a feeling.
These slaves either had magical talent or were chosen by the gods, destined for greatness if their potential could be unlocked.
Otherwise, they’d remain mediocre for life.
Since their potential had been discovered, it would be a waste to treat them as ordinary expendables.
Why were only a few selected from so many slaves?
Nobles, on the other hand, could easily gather handfuls of such talents.
It all came down to the monopoly on knowledge and power, keeping commoners perpetually disadvantaged.
Any resistance was futile and could be easily crushed.
Emilia had once tried to change this status quo, but it had led to her downfall.
“Oh? What’s on your mind? Go ahead and say it.”
Sieg didn’t treat the slaves in the carriage as outsiders.
He stood up, gesturing for the girl to speak freely and boldly.
No one outside the carriage could hear their conversation.
“Well… it’s just… don’t you think those mercenaries are too suspicious? Their motives might be…”
With his permission, Emilia lowered her gaze slightly, her small hands fidgeting with her long silver hair.
Her crimson eyes scanned the surrounding guards with a hint of wariness, trying to recall every detail of what had happened.
The more she thought about it, the more suspicious it seemed, and the more alarmed she became.
After purchasing supplies in the Kingdom of Os and arranging the delivery location with local merchants, everything had gone smoothly—until an unexpected encounter with imperial merchants who had fled there.
They recognized her instantly, causing quite a stir.
With Sieg’s help, she barely managed to escape.
Upon reflection, those imperial merchants apologized profusely, expressing regret and spouting moral platitudes, trying to guilt-trip her.
But their eyes were filled with greed for profit.
…
Then, they released the slaves from the warehouse, removed their shackles, gave them a simple speech, and ensured they were well-fed.
Each slave was assigned a load based on their condition.
Not long after, they encountered this self-recommended, highly suspicious mercenary squad.
They called themselves mercenaries, but their equipment was far too luxurious—not ordinary plate armor, but armor resistant to magic, something even most nobles couldn’t afford, let alone mercenaries who often struggled to make ends meet.
Emilia had initially planned to find an excuse to refuse them, hoping to avoid unnecessary conflict.
But Sieg, ever serious, stopped her.
He needed suitable and strong escorts to protect the group on their journey to the Demon King’s castle.
After searching for a long time, he hadn’t found anyone satisfactory.
The expensive ones weren’t cost-effective, and the cheap ones weren’t as effective as he could be on his own.
Caught in a dilemma, he encountered this group, and they hit it off immediately.
Their commission was suspiciously cheap, and they didn’t mind being haggled down.
Even though Sieg knew they had ulterior motives, he didn’t care.
After all, with the confidence of the Hakimi Demon King’s reputation, who would dare challenge him?
“Oh, you’re talking about that? No big deal. Fifty gold coins for such value is a steal. At this price, what more do you want? Even if they’re a bit suspicious, it’s acceptable. Don’t worry about it.”
Pausing, he stopped joking and got serious, pulling out a magical contract—a lesson learned from the slave traders, a case of growing wiser after a setback.
“I know their target is you. They’re likely working for imperial nobles. These guys can’t even act like proper mercenaries—probably too used to living pampered lives. It’s likely because our whereabouts were exposed, but they’ve been quick to act. They confirmed it was you but didn’t strike immediately.”
Puzzled but unwilling to dwell on it, he brushed it off.
“They’re probably afraid of something. They were quite pleased with my proposal, though. Not sure if it’s arrogance or a desire to claim the credit for themselves, but they haven’t sent word out. That’s why I spared them.”
He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, casually waving the magical contract as he teased.
“So don’t worry. They won’t act recklessly until the contract is fulfilled. Let the prey dream of being the hunter for a little longer.”
…
“Don’t daydream, Gerard. Don’t you get it? You were the one who abandoned Emilia. With just a few forged pieces of evidence and witnesses, you took the moral high ground, betrayed her trust, and abandoned everything she did for you. You hurt her so deeply, said such cruel things.”
“Even if you meet her again, you’re just a familiar stranger. Even if you find her and try to make amends, she won’t accept it. Coming back? That’s just asking for trouble—it’s impossible… You’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”
In the dungeon, the few men facing death remained defiant, but unfortunately, Gerard’s fist ended them in a burst of blood and flesh.
His face was expressionless as he exhaled.
The blood splattered on him was so hot, yet he felt so cold—perhaps fearing that their words might come true.
But no matter what, he wanted to see Emilia, confess his sins, and beg for her forgiveness, no matter how卑微 it made him, as long as she might change her mind.
After all, I only made a mistake that every man would make.
Nah, don’t lump all men with you, Gerald. Only the stupid ones would make the same mistake as you.