First time with a slave

The next day, Akito’s town.

The town was rapidly returning to normal.

I’d wiped out everything I’d made to sustain the holy night’s barrier, all at once.

For a moment after the barrier vanished, the scene looked just like the old wasteland—but now it’s mostly back.

Thanks to me using DORECA, churning out emergency production with magic, one thing after another.

The slaves all over the place marking where things should be made, and I’d just go around building them.

Find the mark. Emergency production: wooden house.

Just repeating it over and over.

Akito had more than two thousand residents, over a thousand buildings already—yet by midday, nearly half was restored.

I produced food stores and mountains of Pshini to fill them. Just as I caught my breath—

"Akito-san"

Madway had appeared without me noticing, speaking up.

While most of the people called me 'Your Majesty' or used honorifics, the one who’d known me longest—excluding Risha—still used the polite suffix.

"Akito. Your injury, is it really fine now?"

"Thanks to your medicine, I’m completely healed. But—how about you? You’re not overdoing it, are you?"

"What’s that about?"

"This way of doing things. It can’t be easy for you, right?"

"Doing emergency production, you mean?"

Madway nodded.

"...A bit, yeah. My mana consumption is ten times what it usually is."

"Then why not go back to the usual method? Have all the residents pitch in. You don’t need to do everything yourself."

"I thought about that. I had Yuria run the numbers."

I gave a dry smile.

"True, we can cut down on magic usage—but then we’d run short on materials, and there’d be no one to carry them or do the work. Just laying down a spell array and leaving the rest to chance? It’d take at least three days to fully restore things."

"Three days...?"

"If I do it, it’ll be done by tonight at the latest."

"...?"

Madway’s eyes go wide.

Three days at best. One at worst.

No need to ask which is better. No need to choose.

"...I knew that."

"Hm?"

She tilts her head, already stepping forward.

Dragging Madway along, she starts marking landmarks as she walks.

Every time, the townsfolk bow, thanking her, praising her.

"Akito-san’s incredible. One person doing what two thousand residents would take three days to finish—done in a single day."

"Is that what they’re saying?"

"Too amazing. Words just... vanish."

"Words aren’t needed."

"Akito-san."

“What’s with the sudden formality?”

I stopped in my tracks without thinking.

I noticed Madway’s tone had changed.

He stopped too, staring straight at me.

His eyes were incredibly serious.

“Please unite the world. With Akito-san’s power.”

Madway said the same thing the Goddess had said.

Probably… the first time anyone in this world had ever said it to me.

☆

Night. Akito’s house in town.

Returned in Sakimori’s form, with Risha by my side.

“Phew, ate, ate.”

“Good work, Master—uh, you.”

She started to say it, then corrected herself.

Still not used to this form, she still slips up sometimes and calls me Master.

It’s cute, so I decided to tease her a little.

“Why not call me Master even in this form? That’s how couples are supposed to be, right?”

“Um… well… I mean…”

“Huh?”

“Please… let me call you ‘you’… just in this form.”

Risha’s voice, fading like mist.

Not because she was resisting—just plain, simple embarrassment.

You want to call you that, but it’s too shy. The feeling was as clear as if you could reach out and touch it.

“Alright, that’s fine.”

“Ah—b-but when I’m back to normal, I’ll call you ‘master’ properly!”

Risha blurts it out, flustered, as if lunging forward to claim it.

So, really, the number one thing is still wanting to call you ‘master,’ huh.

Even her flustered look was cute.

“Phew…”

She calms down, exhales.

Voices drift in from outside the house.

The whole town’s throwing a grand celebration, marking the revival of the city in just one day.

Everywhere, people are drinking, singing, shouting—chaos in full swing.

Funny thing—alcohol and other luxuries? They were all left untouched.

What we did to counter the holy night barrier was simple—“erase what I made.” And honestly, I didn’t make much in the way of luxuries to begin with.

Those things? They were all produced by the growing populace, just to keep the economy moving. No one noticed, but they’d piled up over time.

Now they’re all still here—so everyone dragged them out for the celebration feast.

‘To the king—cheers!’

A man passed by the house, stumbling too much.

Two of them, arm-in-arm, swaying like they’d been hit with a hammer.

Drunk as hell.

“You’re talking about me, right?”

‘Cheers to Lady Risha!’

‘Nice slave!’

“You’re included too.”

“Uuu….”

Risha flushed. Clearly not used to this kind of attention.

“But… I’m honestly worn out. And—”

She pulled out DORECA, opened the menu.

“Magic power’s nearly gone.”

The magic power that’d been stuck to the ceiling for a while suddenly dropped all at once.

Only thirty thousand left. Close to zero, if you think about how much we had yesterday.

Well, it’ll come back eventually.

“Ah, um… you?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I… use the remaining magic power?”

“Hmm? Oh, sure. You don’t even need to ask. Do whatever you want.”

Thirty thousand magic points.

Risha and the others have slave cards—within reason, they can spend magic however they like.

Honestly, if they had to ask me every time, building the town would never get done.

Thirty thousand? That’s the kind of amount you’re supposed to just use without asking.

Still, I get why she asked. Thirty thousand might not seem like much, but it’s the last of what’s left.

Fine. Just use it however you like.

“Just a moment, please.”

Having gotten my permission, Risha pulled out her slave card.

Open the menu, pick what you want to make.

Wondering what it could be, suddenly—

A magic circle is drawn. It forms instantly. No materials. Emergency production using only magic power.

"Thank you for your hard work, my lord."

Risha held out a shortcake.

"A cake?"

"Yes. When you're tired, sweet things are best."

"...I see."

Surprised. Didn't expect Risha to do something like this.

The magic cost for a shortcake is 3,000. Emergency production multiplies it tenfold—30,000.

She used up every last bit of her remaining magic power to make this cake.

"..."

"Um... did I offend you...?"

"No. Just surprised."

Never thought I’d get a cake from Risha.

"Thank you."

Her cheeks flush pink.

"You went to all this trouble. Mind if I eat it now?"

I just opened my mouth and stuck my face out.

“Ah, yes!?”

Risha scrambled, but thrilled, shoved the cake into my mouth.

She’d answered my “aah” request.

The first cake I’d ever gotten from a slave tasted unlike anything else.

Just that alone made it feel worth it—using up all my magic to restore the town.

And the moment I finished eating the cake—

—my magic hit zero.

With a voice I’d never heard before, Risha’s slave card flared to life, evolving into a silver card.