Master 7

She simply wanted to hold a sword again. “M-My mana! My mana…!” “Damn it! Stop the ritual now!” At the knighting ceremony, which should have been the happiest moment of her life, the ritual failed for some unknown reason. All of Runiel’s mana circuits burned away. Since then, she had struggled, thinking only of that moment. Of course, it wasn’t easy. The people who once praised her as the greatest prodigy in history turned their backs on her without hesitation. The sponsorships that once poured in every day stopped as if they had never existed. Even the empire’s most renowned doctors shook their heads in firm refusal. The family that once showered her with love eventually abandoned her, unable to bear the astronomical costs of meaningless treatments. But at that time, Runiel still believed she could turn everything back. However, the world was never kind to a naive girl who knew nothing but the sword—especially when she could no longer wield even that. Fraudulent “experts” approached her, promising to restore her mana circuits. Swindlers, disguised as benefactors, burdened her with crushing debts, exploiting her desperation. In the end, the moment she received an official letter revoking her noble status, delivered to the shabby inn where she barely managed to stay, she finally realized the truth. As a knight, as a noble, and even as an ordinary girl—she could no longer dream of any of those futures. From that point on, she was fated to fall endlessly, reduced to a miserable existence lower than even commoners, lower than mere peasants. And that realization became clearer every time—when she was sold at half price, like defective merchandise at a slave market; when she swept the dust in an unfamiliar hallway, dressed in the uniform of those who once served her; and when she was summoned to her master’s room at dawn, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She was no longer the proud knight Runiel Mistilane. She was now nothing more than “Item No. 167” of the slave market, a mere decorative maid whose only worth was in her fallen nobility. From now on, her life would consist of holding a broom and a rag instead of a sword, and pleasing her master instead of upholding a knight’s oath. Yes, that was the life she had resigned herself to… ***** “Gasp…!” Runiel opened her eyes wide, gasping for air. Instinctively, she pushed herself up to sit. “Hah… Hah…” She had been unconscious for some time. Her mind was still hazy. Although the unbearable pain that tormented her moments ago had vanished, her muscles still screamed in agony, unable to forget the suffering. Her sweat-drenched clothes clung to her body, weighing her down. Unable to fully lift herself, she gasped for breath, scanning her surroundings. Soon, she realized she was alone in a basement. “…Ah.” As she stared blankly, a memory flashed through her mind—Whitney, looking down at her with disappointment, muttering that she had failed to meet expectations. “…So, this is the end.” Considering that, the ritual had likely ended in failure. She was deemed useless and abandoned here. “…?” Lowering her head in despair, her eyes caught sight of a note lying on the floor. With nothing else to do, she unconsciously picked it up and skimmed the neatly written letters. “You lost consciousness during the ritual, so I couldn’t tell you in person, but I have good news.” seaʀᴄh thё NôvelFire.nёt website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Time seemed to freeze. Her body stiffened. “The ritual was successfully completed.” The note, undoubtedly left behind by Whitney, carried an overwhelming weight. “Of course, your body hasn’t fully recovered yet. You will have to endure this pain several more times.” By now, her body should have been trembling from mana reflux. But instead, she had already sprung to her feet. Other than the lingering pain, her body felt startlingly normal. “However, starting today, you will be able to wield mana again.” Only Runiel’s hands, gripping the note, trembled violently. “Rest for a while, and when you regain your strength, come to my office. We will continue our conversation then.” Her gaze landed on the final line of the note. “Congratulations on wielding your sword once again, Miss Runiel Mistilane.” The note slipped from her fingers and fluttered to the ground. P.S. The front door of the basement is not in use, so please use the back door connected to my office.” That small postscript, written at the bottom, went unnoticed by Runiel, whose mind was already reeling. Step, step… Without sparing another glance at the note, Runiel staggered forward. She had heard countless lies before—empty promises that she would be able to wield a sword again. But this time, something was different. With each passing second, she could feel it—the changes in her body, the faint traces of the glorious past she had once lost. No matter how much she felt it, it wasn’t enough. For years, she had desperately wished for this moment, seeing it only in dreams night after night. She couldn’t be at ease until she saw it with her own eyes. “I need to check… Right now…!” That was why Runiel, using what little strength she had left, forced open the long-unused front door of the basement and started moving forward. The passageway, neglected for years, was filled with dust, dark, and damp. But fortunately, at the far end, a faint light welcomed her. It was a small, fragile sliver of light. But to Runiel, who had been trapped in darkness for so long, that tiny light seemed blindingly bright. —Creak… Almost unconsciously following the light, she reached the end of the passage and gripped the handle, pushing it upward with all her strength. At that moment, sunlight far brighter than anything she had seen before engulfed her. “…Ah.” Squinting slightly from the brightness, Runiel stepped outside and quickly realized she was standing in the middle of the Lingard estate’s garden. “Kya! Kyaaah!” “Wh-Who…?” The gardeners tending the estate and the maids fetching water gasped in shock at her sudden appearance. But Runiel paid them no mind as she frantically scanned her surroundings. Her clothes were loose and disheveled, covered in dirt, dust, and dried sweat. Her entire body reeked of blood. “Isn’t that… the one the young master bought—no, brought in a week ago?” “I saw her sneaking out of her room alone last night…” The maids, worried by her disheveled and battered appearance, watched her anxiously. But Runiel’s focus was elsewhere. “…Where is the sword?” Right now, only one thought consumed her mind—she had to hold a sword. Sasha, her instructor, had said that the knights had locked the training grounds while away on a mission. The estate’s armory was only accessible to authorized personnel and caretakers. That left only one place where she might be able to get her hands on something even remotely similar to a sword. “W-Where are you going?” “Sh-Should we follow her?” As Runiel staggered toward the mansion, the maids, watching her uneasily, widened their eyes and hurried after her. “Wait, hold on…” “Move.” A few of them tried to stop her, but at the eerie, chilling look in her eyes, they instinctively shrank back, stepping aside. “Yes… this place…” Runiel, having entered the mansion without resistance, finally arrived at her destination—the kitchen. Trailing a line of people behind her, she scanned her surroundings with hazy eyes before muttering under her breath. “Found it.” The next moment, before anyone could stop her, her hand shot toward the kitchen’s storage rack. —Shing… A sharp kitchen knife landed firmly in her grip. The maids, who had followed her inside, froze in place. “…Ha.” How much time had passed? “Hah… Hahahaha…!” The chilling silence that had settled over the kitchen was broken by an eerie, chilling laughter—so unsettling that it seemed impossible that it came from Runiel’s own mouth. “AHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” As the others stood frozen, overwhelmed by her sudden outburst, Runiel suddenly collapsed to the floor. “Haha! Hah… Haha…” Her twisted expression bore a crazed smile, her eyes brimming with ecstasy. Even as she laughed like a madwoman, hot tears streamed down her cheeks. “…Whitney Lingard.” At the hoarse, cracked voice escaping her lips, the onlookers flinched. But no one dared to approach the trembling girl who had sunk to the floor. “If this is the price of selling my soul to you…” Because of that, no one noticed the faint glimmer of energy in her hands, hidden behind her hunched-over form. The aura that wrapped around the small kitchen knife was as faint as the light that had guided her through the basement passage—so fragile it seemed like it could disappear at any moment. But this was precisely the hope Runiel had longed for, yearned for, over the past few years. “…Then I will gladly become your sword.” If it meant she could wield it again, she would willingly sell even her soul. “…Come to think of it, last night, when I went to the restroom, I thought I heard screaming.” “S-So… that wasn’t a stray cat…?” “Shh! We know nothing.” Of course, the maids, who had no idea of the real situation, sighed in relief when Runiel quietly set the knife down. That was how the rumor that would later be known as the “kitchen suicide incident” began to take shape. “I saw nothing. I heard nothing. I know nothing…” Thanks to that, Sasha—who had been peacefully making sandwiches in the kitchen—ended up cowering inside a basket, tears welling in her eyes. Unfortunately for her, there seemed to be no way to clear up the misunderstanding. ***** “Ugh, I almost went into shock from the pain.” Idly rubbing my ear, which had suddenly started itching while processing documents in my office, I shuddered as I recalled the pain I had felt just hours ago. If I hadn’t shared the pain with Runiel, I might have been completely done for—game over, just like that. Well, forcibly opening a mana passage within the soul should be painful. That much was expected. Still, the thought of having to share this pain several more times made me sigh heavily. “But, well… It can’t be helped.” Considering the future events I had to survive, this was actually quite the bargain. And honestly, it felt incredibly rewarding as a veteran player to have pioneered a route that no one else had ever succeeded in before. It was a statement that made me sound like a complete game addict, but this was my reality now, so I had no reason to hold back. And really, was 8,500 hours of total playtime even enough to be considered an addiction? —Knock, knock, knock… “Come in.” Just as I was about to shift my attention back to the mountain of paperwork, lost in my ridiculous thoughts, I heard a sudden knock at the door. “Alfred, I’ve been thinking… Don’t you think the amount of paperwork has gotten out of hand lately—Runiel?” I had assumed it was Alfred, ready to vent about the absurd amount of documents piling up. But the person who stepped inside wasn’t him—it was Runiel. Her gaze, compared to the past week, had become astonishingly clear. Still, she should have been feeling the aftereffects of the ritual, right? For reference, my entire body was still sore as hell. “You’ve already recovered your strength? You could’ve rested a little longer…” I was about to express my concern, worried that she might be pushing herself too hard, when Runiel’s calm voice cut me off. “I have a question.” Her expression was so serious that I couldn’t help but pay attention. But her question turned out to be almost laughably simple. “What is it that you want from me?” I almost wanted to laugh. That was easy. All I wanted was to gather a dream team—a group of overpowered characters who had been notoriously difficult to recruit in the game. A team that would guarantee my survival and a peaceful life. And with Runiel now secured, I had already achieved a major part of my goal. “What I want? I’ve already gotten it.” I answered with the friendliest smile I could manage, meeting her gaze. But Runiel remained silent, standing motionless as she stared at me. “Honestly, I’m in a bit of a dangerous position, so I need a reliable bodyguard—” “I understand.” Just as I was about to explain further, making sure she fully grasped my situation, Runiel suddenly spoke with conviction. “Then, I shall swear an oath.” “…Huh?” Before I could fully process her words, she was already kneeling on one knee before me, her head bowed in solemnity. “To enemies, judgment and retribution. To captives, mercy and goodwill. To honor faith and uphold dignity in the face of trials.” Wait. That’s… the knight’s oath. “I, Runiel Mistilane, swear to bring only victory and glory to my liege.” She had altered the traditional oath slightly—replacing “evil” and “the weak” with “enemies” and “captives”—but that wasn’t the issue here. The issue was that she had declared, without hesitation, an oath that should only be sworn to a single master for life. “From this moment forth, Whitney Lingard…” As I stared in stunned silence, Runiel lifted her head and gazed at me with unwavering resolve. “I swear to be only your loyal sword and tool.” Of course, having Runiel pledge such absolute loyalty to me was great news. A knight’s oath could only be made by the knight’s own will, without coercion or threat, and once sworn, it was unbreakable by the knight themselves. This meant she had pledged lifelong, unconditional loyalty to me. Furthermore, under imperial law, a knight who swore an oath became the legal possession of their liege, with their mana completely bound to them. There was a reason why a knight’s oath was jokingly referred to as a “legalized slavery contract” among the nobility. But there was a problem. Because of the mana binding effect, anyone capable of sensing mana would immediately know that she now belonged to me. Runiel’s recovery wasn’t yet complete, and considering the upcoming events and potential complications, keeping her revival a secret for now would have been ideal. I had told her to rest and return later specifically so I could propose the oath to her myself once everything was fully settled. But now? Everything was completely out of my hands. “Uh, maybe we should hold off on that for a bit—ah.” I tried to stop her in a hurry, but for some reason, the oath had already been completed. Wait. Could it be…? Had my earlier response been interpreted as acceptance, triggering the oath and linking our mana automatically? Damn it. This was why I needed to be careful with my words when dealing with contracts and rituals. “I hope you use me well.” Completely oblivious to my internal panic, Runiel looked up at me with a small, quiet smile. For some reason, there was a faint trace of… something almost wicked in that smile. But I had no time to dwell on that. My mind was already overloaded. “For now… please stay out of sight and focus on recovering. I’ll figure out what to do next—” “Y-Y-Young Master!” Just as I was about to handle the aftermath of this mess, Sasha burst in, her face pale with terror. “L-L-Lady Meredia wishes to see you…!” “…Hmm.” As if the situation wasn’t already chaotic enough, now this? “Well, I suppose that works out. Let’s set up a meeting, then.” I tried to maintain my composure and approach the situation rationally. But then— “A-Actually… she’s already waiting in the mansion’s garden.” Hearing that, I finally surrendered. I never expected everything to go according to plan, but this was a bit much. The only small consolation was that at least the final boss—someone who could erase me from existence with a snap of her fingers—didn’t harbor any hostility toward me. “Also… she asked me to deliver a message…” “What is it?” “If you can’t come up with a convincing explanation for the documents you submitted last time, y-you should prepare yourself… in every sense.” “Runiel, how about we go for a walk in the garden?” Screw it. I was beyond caring at this point. Prev I TOC I Next Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook Like Loading...