Rirya
Fourth Slave Rirya was in the forest.
"Late! You're as obvious as a shadow!"
She dodged the monkey's attack—leaping from the tree, claws slashing down—then touched her hand to the slave card, summoning a sword.
A blade forged from infinite magic erupted from inside the monkey’s body, piercing through its heart, the vital point.
"Ukyee."
"Ukyakya! Ukyakya!"
Two of the same monkeys attacked her from both sides, as if trying to avenge their comrade.
The claws came down, splitting the air with a sound that made her spine freeze.
"Rirya doesn’t fall for that kind of trick."
She crouched, pressing her hand to the ground.
The black card in her hand glowed—two swords shot up from the earth like sprouting roots.
Just in time—she met the charging monkey. It was skewered clean through, like a sacrificial offering, and collapsed, limp and still.
The monkey wasn’t the only one—there were still more out there.
From all around, they swarmed in, closing in on Rirya.
Rirya straightened up, one hand clutching her slave card, the other resting on her hip, standing tall and unyielding.
“Come as many as you like. Rirya is her master’s slave. Not even a scratch would I give a monkey like you.”
The words carried not just pride, but something heavier—responsibility.
A faint childishness lingered in her face, making the contrast all the sharper.
The monkeys charged in unison. Rirya didn’t flinch. With the infinite magic and combat style entrusted to her by her master, she wiped them out—every single one.
☆
“So… does that mean there are no more demon gods in this world!?”
Rirya explained the situation to nearly fifty people who had just returned from the forest.
The world had once been destroyed by a demon god. But a savior had appeared—and saved it.
A human who’d lost their life to the demon god had been transformed into a monkey monster called Shreiviju—and she was working to turn them back into people.
“Technically… he’s still around. But my brother—he’s sealed away by the new god. Can’t do a thing now.”
“““Ooooooh!”””
A roar erupted from the five hundred people.
Old and young, men and women—each had known the terror of the demon god’s rule, and each had ultimately lost their lives to it.
It was only natural they’d react like this upon hearing the demon god had fallen.
“But even if the demon god’s gone…”
“Yeah, this place we’re living in…”
“I… lost three towns to the demon god. Three times. Fled each time. Ended up… just like that…”
After the cheers, the crowd collectively sank into silence.
No surprise there.
All who became Shreubij were consumed by war’s flames.
Most died either while losing their homes… or shortly after.
“It’s fine, really.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like this…”
Rirya used her slave card to summon a wooden house.
Creating something from nothing with a slave card normally requires ten times the usual magic, but her master had infinite magic.
Which meant she could keep making things—forever.
She conjured a wooden house and placed it before fifty people.
“What’s that?”
“A house… in an instant?”
“Is this magic?”
“This is my brother—god’s power. The god said: anyone returning from the apes must be guaranteed basic shelter, food, and clothing until they’re back on their feet. I’m here to make sure that happens.”
“““Oooohhh”””
The crowd erupted again.
The slump that had been dragging her down until just now was utterly blown away by the power Rirya had shown.
☆
After leaving the forest, they decided to build a town near the river.
People couldn’t live without water for daily work—no matter how much they could conjure at first using slave cards, survival later demanded a nearby water source.
Rirya had brought hundreds, even thousands, of humans back from the monkeys, and had established countless towns.
She quickly found suitable land for a new town and built it from the ground up.
She made homes. Made clothes. Made food.
Following the master’s plan, she’d worked tirelessly to provide basic shelter, food, and clothing.
“Rirya.”
“Can’t interrupt, okay? Wait your turn.”
“You’re more important, Rirya.”
“Important or not, you still need to—wait, it’s Risha. What is it?”
The voice came from Risha, the senior slave.
A swirling light pulsed at Risha’s feet—clearly a teleportation gate.
“Something wrong?”
“Master’s calling. Says he wants Rirya by his side tonight.”
“Master…? Really?”
Rirya blinked. But orders from the master overrode everything else.
Still, building this new town was also the master’s command.
She was caught between two orders.
“Leave it to me. I can keep building the town, but Master only summoned Rirya today.”
“Are you sure?”
“Master’s orders are absolute. Besides, we’re all in the same boat here.”
“—Yes, of course!”
Rirya nodded firmly and lunged toward the gate Risha had just appeared from.
“Wait—hold on.”
Risha stopped her.
“What is it?”
“Even so, you can’t go like that. It’s rude.”
Rirya glanced down at herself.
Certainly a terrible look.
The pale green dress—the trademark of Eternal Slaves—was soaked in dried blood, smeared with mud from city construction, and torn in places all over.
To put it mildly, she looked like a homeless person.
Risha pointed this out, then pulled out her slave card and activated it.
A glow of magic enveloped Rirya, transforming her clothes.
From the pale green dress to a refined, noblewoman’s gown.
"Go now. Make your master pleased. Remember the most important thing—understood?"
"Y-yes, ma’am!"
Nodding with sudden understanding, Rirya stepped through the gate.
"Doing my best, ma’am."
She stepped through, heading toward her master.
The fourth slave laughed, small and sweet, like a little princess.
New series started.
A dragon wearing a slime's skin—making a dungeon is just like charging magic power.
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