Ordinary master and servant, not ordinary mother and child
Night. A single-story house on the edge of the village.
Me and six child slaves were inside the house.
The children were huddled together, sleeping. Almost like they were leaning on one another—kind of sweet, really.
I glanced at them, scanning the air outside.
I guess I’ve started to blend into this world, somehow.
Child slaves. Newborns from Eternal Slaves.
My children. Also slaves.
But in my mind, “slaves” sticks stronger than “children.”
I don’t really see them as my own.
For me, they’re either “six child slaves,” or “six mother-daughter slave pairs.”
“Real mother and daughter, yet…”
I muttered it, almost laughing at myself.
Back then, I’d thought Eternal Slaves were strange—even if I found them cute.
Work until you drop—glory in it. Want to become a slave alongside your child.
Somewhere deep down, I thought that idea was twisted.
But open the lid and look—here I am, seeing my own child as a slave.
Not kidding, the Slave King isn’t just a title.
“Master.”
One of the six stood up.
Vera, daughter of Yuria.
While the other five fumbled their words, she spoke crisp and clear—like a little show-off.
And petite—no, she looked more like a child than her mother, Yuria. Side by side, they looked less like mother and daughter than sisters.
“Something wrong?”
“Master, aren’t you sleeping?”
“Ah, not yet.”
“Waiting for something?”
“Waiting, yes.”
“…An enemy?”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because you’re not letting go of your sword.”
“Smart girl, Vera.”
I said it aloud, then reached out and ruffled her hair.
Vera’s face flushed, embarrassed.
“That’s right. Waiting for the enemy. That’s why I built this house at the village’s entrance. Anyone coming in through the path has to pass through here.”
“Is that so.”
“Expecting remnants of the Midrofan to come back a few more times. Gotta keep an eye out, you know.”
“Mother told me.”
Vera said it deadpan—no childishness, just the cool, calculating tone of a prodigy.
Somewhat like Yuria.
“Master prefers not to kill things like that, if possible.”
“Was true. But since coming to this village, I’ve changed my mind. Letting those bastards live just means more people get sacrificed. Towns, villages—everything gets torn apart.”
She paused.
…Wait. Not exactly kid stuff, was it.
“Vera.”
“Yes?”
“You talked too much. Thirsty. Make me some tea.”
“Got it.”
—— Magic power charged: 5,000.
Vera stood up and walked toward the makeshift kitchen in the corner of the room.
This house had been built all at once, mass-produced through a save-load function. It had all the basic features of a home, and the necessary tools were already stocked.
Small in stature, Vera grunted and mumbled to herself as she heated the water and began brewing tea.
Smart as a child could be, but still just a child in body.
Watching her was oddly endearing.
Still, no intention to help.
Let her do as she pleased.
"Sorry to keep you waiting."
After a moment, she brought over a cup of steaming tea.
I took it—then didn’t drink.
I felt a presence outside.
A sensing ability I’d picked up, back when Yuria—Vera’s mother—had first triggered it.
Five… no, six people.
I set the tea down.
"Master?"
"I’ll be right back."
"You’re not drinking?"
"Later—get me something sweet ready."
——Magic power charged: 5,000.
"Yes!"
Nodding at Vela, I stepped outside.
A torch's flame flickers in the distance—slowly drawing nearer.
She stood in the middle of the road leading into the village, arms crossed.
The remnants of the Midrofan appeared.
Six people, just as the presence suggested.
I frowned.
Everyone was mounted on horses—some even had women slumped lifelessly on top of them like baggage.
Felt like some kind of loot, that’s all.
"You, Akito?"
One man called out my name. The other stirred uneasily.
“…I didn’t think you’d come back, not even the boss, not even Vigoitch.”
…Once. Just once. Change your heart. Live honestly. In my country, you’ll never want for food, clothing, or shelter.
"Talk big all you want!"
The man pulled out a thick-bladed sword and charged.
Swinging the True Eternal Slave horizontally, she cleaved the man in two—blade and all.
She cut down the men as they rushed at her one after another. The warning was given. No more mercy.
Not if I do.
"Y-you don’t come near. If you do, this woman’s dead."
Because like the last one, I won’t risk innocent lives.
Without a word, she slammed the True Eternal Slave into the ground.
The tip pierced the man’s shoulder and drove him straight into the tree behind him.
Like a great nail, she nailed him to the trunk.
The woman was thrown to the ground. Groaning in pain... no wounds, no marks of violation anywhere.
She exhaled a little, then stepped closer to the man.
"Pl-please help me..."
"No. Where are the others?"
"T-the others?"
"You’re the remnants of Marat and Maxim’s faction, aren’t you?"
"S-so what if I tell you—gah!"
She punched his face. The wound from the sword plunged open, blood spurting out.
"No."
"I-I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you, just stop—"
☆
I returned inside the house. Vera had prepared sweet treats and was waiting for me.
A bite of the sweet. Sipping tea.
“Ah, ah—”
The tea wasn’t cool yet.
“Blow, blow.”
Vera offered, but I waved a hand to stop her.
“Not that. I’ve got work.”
“What?!”
Vera’s eyes lit up.
Even young, she was an Eternal Slave—right there, the first to react.
I scribbled down the info I’d gotten from the man, using the paper and pen from the save/load set we’d made together.
Handed it to Vera.
“Take this to Mira. The battleship Yuria is supposed to be docked somewhere west of here.”
“Just hand it to her?”
“Tell her to wipe out everyone here, too.”
I ended the message. Changed tone.
“Dark out there. Can you make it alone?”
“I’m fine!”
Vera snatched the note from my hand and bolted out of the room.
Her back disappearing into the night mountain path looked just like a child’s first errand.
I watched her for a moment, then turned and went back inside.
A small, wry smile tugged at my lips.
A normal father would never let her go alone, I suppose.
— Magic charge completed: 10,000.
Then again, Vera isn’t an ordinary girl. So it should be fine.