Slave King

Next morning. The lord’s manor, office.

The saint’s night slave stood before me, awake.

“Your body alright now?”

“……”

A silent nod.

That was it. The slave said nothing else.

She looked at me, but said nothing.

“Don’t know where Saint Night went?”

“……”

Silence again. This time, hostility sharpened.

“Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not chasing after her.”

“Then… why?”

“Can’t send you back if I don’t know where you belong, can I?”

She looked utterly stunned.

Pure disbelief on her face.

“You’re… sending me back?”

“Naturally.”

I sank deep into the chair, leaned back against the wooden frame, and stared up at the ceiling.

“Master only becomes master with a slave. Same goes for the slave. A slave without a master isn’t a slave at all. Right?”

The slave nodded quietly.

I’m not getting into your master-slave business. Never have, never will. But you—you want to go back to him. Doesn’t matter what he is. I can’t stand seeing a slave wander without a master. It’s disgusting.

She looked back, locked eyes, and said:

“You’re Eternal Slaves. That means you need a master, don’t you?”

……

A nod again.

“Fine. If you know where he is, then go. I’ll give you food, water—medicine too. Go back on your own. Be strong. One more time. Do you know where he is? Or don’t you?”

…………Sorry.

A long silence, then the apology.

She really doesn’t know, does she.

Got it. For now, you’re under my care. I can’t be ordering around someone else’s slave, so you’ll just live like a guest—no chores, just eating and sleeping. Can you manage that?

“Yes….”

The slave bowed her head.

“If you were my slave… that would’ve been better.”

Her first true whisper of weakness.

The kind of voice that never cracked, not even under violence—only now, abandoned, did it finally slip out.

Too painful to bear. I fled the office like I was running from something.

I kept wishing, somehow, that I’d find a way to fix this.

☆

A few days later.

The town of Rebeck was in full uproar.

Not just Rebeck—every surrounding village was caught up in the celebration.

In the lord’s manor, in my private chambers, I was changing clothes.

With four slaves helping me, I slipped into new garments.

“Mira, pull that bit a little tighter.”

“Like this?”

“Yeah, that’s it. Yuria, the crown.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Risha-sama, what about the mantle?”

“Leave that till last.”

I let the slaves handle my final adjustments.

Maybe the first time since I arrived in this world—wearing something not made by DORECA.

The ceremonial robes for the coronation, prepared by the slaves themselves.

Something not in DORECA’s database. Made by the four of them under Risha’s direction.

After dressing me, they stepped back and surveyed me from head to toe.

All of them looked pleased.

“How do you find it, master?”

“Excellent. Well done.”

They all beamed. Even Yuria, usually expressionless, was almost smiling.

“Well then, let’s go.”

“Yesss!”

They spoke in unison.

I stepped out of the manor with them.

A crowd of people waited outside, packed tight.

The moment I stepped into view, a roar rose like thunder from the ground up.

"Akito-sama!"

"Lord!"

"King!"

Voices called out in every direction.

I waved back, walking forward through the cheers.

The crowd parted like the Sea of Moses.

Closer inspection showed Mira and the others—her personal guard—out in full force, pushing back the masses, clearing a path.

"Thanks, you saved me."

"Save your thanks. If you're really that eager, make good on your promise to get all of us pregnant soon."

"Will consider it."

"Looking forward to it."

I walked down the path they’d made.

A sea of people pressed in from all sides.

Not just residents of Rebeck—familiar faces from distant towns dotted the crowd too.

I kept moving, drenched in their cheers.

Four slaves followed behind me.

The four moved forward without so much as a glance at the cheers.

Even Mira and Rirya wore their usual serious expressions.

Sticking to their role—purely my slaves, nothing more.

After a while, the square came into view.

In the center stood a tall platform. At its base, standing on the steps leading up, was Longda.

Madway and the other town elders.

"Akito-san."

Madway stepped forward.

Something about it felt… heavy.

"This is the first time I’ve met you since arriving in this world."

"I haven’t forgotten the life you saved. I’ll work my hardest from now on."

"Count on me."

Next came Agafon and Gerasim.

"Akito-san."

"Agafon-san, you really should call me ‘Your Majesty’ now."

"Not in public, though. Just keep calling me ‘Agafon’—like before. Please."

"Yes."

Then came Malta.

"Akito. There’s something I need to talk to you about after the ceremony."

"Talk?"

"Yeah. The country needs an army. That’s what I wanted to talk about."

So, volunteering, huh.

"Still the same battle-hungry lot, aren’t you?"

"Sorry?"

"Not sorry."

Smiling at Malta.

"Got it. I’ll listen to your proposal."

"Yep!"

Lastly, Zahar.

"Uh, Akito-sama… Your Majesty?"

"I already said—either’s fine."

"Then, Your Majesty. Uh… am I really allowed to be here like this?"

"Sure. If you really can’t manage, hand the mayor’s job to someone else. If you decide they’ll do a better job, go ahead. But—"

"But?"

"The country-building doesn’t stop. And no matter what, you’ll be working. Your energy’s needed."

"...Understood. I’ll do my best, wherever that takes me."

"Yeah. Count on it."

After speaking with everyone, he stepped up onto the platform.

The ceremony platform stood in the center of the square—about three stories high.

The crowd, seen from above.

This is the people—my people, my country's people.

A rebirth from nothing. Now, over seven thousand souls gather at my side.

The rising roar of the crowd. The electric buzz of anticipation.

In the midst of it all, footsteps sounded from behind.

A slave followed, but stopped halfway up the stairs.

Everyone’s looking at me.

The kind of look you get every day, staring at your master with respect.

Being looked up to is fine—just not that kind of respect.

Considering everything that’s happened, they shouldn’t be there.

I drew the sword at my waist.

True Eternal Slave.

Touching the four gems, she pulled in the startled slaves all at once.

Blade of ice flame, aura of light and shadow.

The true slave’s blade.

She turned to face the crowd, holding it up.

Yeah, they should be here. Should be with me.

Without slaves, this nation wouldn’t exist.

And most importantly, master and slave—only together do they form a true bond.

There’s no reason to be absent on a day like this.

She conveyed her feelings.

They reached back.

Master and slave. Five hearts, one thought.

—Eternal Slave.

She was certain now: a nation built on the smiles of slaves would only keep growing.