The joy of a slave, the sorrow of a slave
We went to collect Eluka’s fur, with Risha in tow.
"So much... all for my master?"
"Yeah."
"You're amazing, master."
"It's thanks to you."
"Huh? I didn't do anything."
"No, it's because of this that Eluka was easier to bring down."
He lifted up the Eternal Slave, showing it off.
Eternal Slave—the sword forged from Risha’s hair, powered by Risha’s smile, its strength amplified by her magic.
It was definitely this sword that let her slaughter monsters that would’ve taken hours to defeat alone. So it was Risha’s doing.
Risha blushed, but her face wasn’t entirely shy.
——Magic power charged: 2,500.
Magic power charged, incidentally.
"Hey, long time no see."
A voice called out. I turned.
There stood Saint Night and his slave.
A collar around the neck of an Eternal Slave Clan (golden-haired elf) slave, being led by a leash.
Pure, unadulterated “slave” treatment.
...Maybe that’s actually the right way to put it.
While thinking that, I answered.
“Long time.”
“How’s it going?”
Saint Night grinned, asking.
That face. I knew it. The smug, “I just *have* to tell you this” look.
“About the same. Just gathering materials, for now.”
“Materials? That stuff? What’re you gonna do with that?”
That stuff?
“Ah, you know. Stuff. How about you? How’s it going?”
“Smooth sailing. Hey, I’ll tell you a cool trick.”
“A trick?”
“See, when you craft something, sometimes the finished product becomes material for another thing. Like this iron sword here.”
Saint Night held up the sword. Exactly the same as the one I’d made before.
“This? Made from a copper sword.”
"Is that so?"
A little startled—though not in the way you’d think.
Encouraged by my reaction, Saint Night went on.
"Better to make a copper sword first, then use that to forge an iron one. Saves materials, you know? Sure, it takes more magic, but—"
"Ah, I see."
Makes sense.
Spend more time and magic to save raw material.
Come to think of it, that’s obvious. Probably works the other way too.
"Of course, you’d need a ton of magic to pull that off."
"True."
"Still, magic’s no problem—plenty to spare, really."
Saint Night said that, then suddenly kicked one of his slaves.
Kicked them, but kept the leash taut. The result? The slave’s neck was choked tight.
The slave struggled. Tears fell.
Risha beside me looked down, face twisted with sadness.
The two Eternal Slaves locked eyes, their faces growing even more sorrowful.
“Huh?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Tried charging more magic than usual. Normally it’s 200, but just now it shot up to 250.”
…O-oh…
“Don’t like being watched, huh? Hmm?”
Shin’ya smirked, staring down at the slave. Full-on sadist face.
“N-No, that’s not—”
“Not at all? Hmm?”
“Y-Yes, there’s no—”
“Lick my shoe.”
Shin’ya cut her off mid-sentence with the order.
The slave, tears streaming, still obeyed—licked Shin’ya’s shoe.
Shin’ya watched, her face twisting into a satisfied, crooked grin.
“Kukuku… just as I thought. Being watched boosts it by about thirty percent. That last burst added three hundred.”
“…Cut it out already.”
“Huh? Feeling sorry for a slave? Can’t do that if you’re gonna survive this life.”
“…”
“Whatever. See you later.”
Risha stood there, the slave trailing behind her, her face still smug to the very end.
...Huh. Whatever.
Best get this hair collected and head back already.
That’s what I thought—until I noticed Risha staring at the retreating backs of the others.
Her eyes were different now. Earlier, they’d been sad. Now, they looked more like envy.
Like a child watching another kid buy a toy at the toy stall.
“Risha?”
“Huh? Sorry, master. I’ll gather the materials right away.”
“That’s fine. But why were you staring at them?”
“Huh? W-well… it’s just…”
Risha fidgeted, struggling to speak.
“I… I wish I had a collar.”
“A collar?”
“A collar… I wish I had one…”
“…You want a collar?”
“Yes…”
She nodded, then immediately lowered her head, face burning.
She looked embarrassed—just like someone who’d said something they instantly regretted.
Looks like she really wants it.
“Then I’ll make it for you.”
“Really?!”
Her face snapped up, eyes sparkling.
No need to ask, really.
I opened the menu, selected a collar, and conjured the magic circle.
“Then—”
“Yeah, Risha, stay here.”
“Huh?”
“Since it’s my chance, I’ll make it myself.”
I left Risha waiting there and dashed off in the direction the arrow pointed.
Three materials: the hide of a trembling monster, a raw gemstone, and the fur of a white worm.
Gathered them, dropped them into the circle, and the collar formed.
A slightly fancy one, with a gem set in the center.
Slipping it around Risha’s neck, she ran her fingers over it, smiling with delight.
“Thank you, Master!”
The collar on Risha brought out a contrast in her smile—pure, bright joy.
—Magic power charged to 10,000.
Significantly more than usual, even from Saint Night.