Chapter 5
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: The Moment the Obsessive Maid Fell in Love
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In the dark birdcage, a bird with both wings broken raises its head toward the faint light filtering in.
"...Ugh."
I forced the food on the plate down my throat.
Human food.
For slaves, it was something unimaginable, but for a vampire, it tasted like shoving crumpled scraps of paper into your mouth.
And that would be fortunate enough.
But sometimes, you'd eat food that tasted like a mop left to fester for a week, and spend the whole day vomiting.
In those hellish days, I'd be dragged into a room with no light.
And touched by hands I didn't want.
Every time I glimpsed the blue veins beneath their skin in those moments, Yuria reached a state so dire she felt like self-harming.
As always, clutching her stomach and grinding her teeth,
the damned orc's voice rang in her ears.
"You can send her to the mansion right away or take her now. She was going to be evicted from the room anyway, so feel free to enjoy her starting tonight. Though... if you're going to play rough enough to break her, I'd advise against it."
Sold again?
Where to this time?
To that demon who whipped me mercilessly?
Or that bastard who tried to force himself on me?
The very name "noble" now filled her with disgust.
"Yuria. This man is your master from today onward. You'll be moved to the mansion tonight, so bear that in mind."
....
"Pleased to meet you, Yuria."
I greeted her.
Yuria, huddled in the corner of the room with her knees drawn up, slowly turned her eyes toward me.
She scrambled forward on quick feet, stumbling in a pitiful display.
Rachel, watching intently, voiced her doubt.
"Hmm? They must not have fed her properly. She looks utterly drained."
"Ah, this slave? We serve her various meals every day, but I've never seen her eat well. That's why she's so skin and bones now. She seemed healthier when she first arrived..."
That was when the orc tried to make excuses to Rachel.
Shunk.
My hand slipped through the iron bars.
Despite the wide-eyed slave trader's protests and my mother's warnings,
Got her.
The hand of the cornered final boss.
It was freezing cold.
As I hesitated, nearly mistaking it for a corpse's icy grip, Yuria's gaze slowly rose to meet mine.
"..."
Up close, she was far more gaunt than she'd appeared from afar.
"Th..."
Something rose in my throat—curses too vile to utter aloud—but I desperately swallowed them back.
I held Yuria's hand up to the light near the bars.
The hidden scars emerged, and I ground my molars involuntarily.
A hand that should have been flawlessly pale and beautiful.
Was a wreck.
Traces of blade cuts,
burn marks from hot irons,
a clumsily scarred wrist wound she could never have inflicted herself.
Dozens of needle-prick agonies, scars from never receiving proper skincare.
Her hands bore countless tiny marks, as if she'd thrust them into gravel.
Skin torn repeatedly and healed with cheap potions, leaving darkened patches.
I trembled with rage.
The slave trader, facing away, couldn't see my expression.
I didn't even know what face I was making.
Yuria eyed me warily at first, but soon looked at me with curiosity.
As if she'd never met a human who cared about such things.
That realization fueled my burning fury even more.
It was hypocritical, really.
The same man who'd mutilated bandits' corpses couldn't contain his anger at a girl's misfortune.
But my rage was undeniably swelling beyond control.
So I decided to get her out of there first.
"...No need for long talks. Hand over the girl, and since the carriage is ready elsewhere, how about we hurry and check the paperwork?"
My voice trembled faintly. I couldn't fully hide my emotions.
The slave trader bolted from the room upon hearing that.
Rachel followed suit. Curious about what I'd do, she cast a soundproof barrier and gave me an approving look.
God knows what moved her this time. Another "Impressive" or "Mind blown."
Then I felt a faint tremor in her hand.
"...Could you let go now?"
Yuria spoke with trembling eyes.
She stared at her hand, now slightly warm from my body heat after being held so long, blinking rapidly as she glanced between it and me.
[?] The Final Boss takes an interest in you.
[!!!!!] A life-threatening situation!
[Overcome due to an unknown variable.]
"...Why me?"
Before she could finish, I answered.
I knew the rest without hearing it.
"I empathize. And holding back is hard, you know."
"..."
Yuria stared at me with wide eyes, stunned.
Nobles despise vampires, after all. No wonder she was shocked.
With a voice shaking from fury at her pitiful state, I asked,
"Those scars,"
"Ah, ack."
The moment I said it, she tried to hide the scarred wounds under her clothes.
But my unrelenting grip wouldn't allow it.
I never once gestured that her scars were unsightly or needed hiding.
Yet her reaction showed she'd instinctively realized—through bitter experience—that failing to do so meant punishment.
And after seeing her hand, I was certain that "education" was far from gentle.
Each time she tugged harder, my rage grew.
What the hell had they done to her?
I'd wondered if the final boss would do such things while reading the novel.
But now, I felt I might do the same.
I held fast to the fleeing Yuria, pulling her close until our lips nearly touched, staring into her eyes.
"...I'm different from them, so no need to fear so much. Use the blood to heal those wounds and taste it."
My upper and lower lips moved.
Her dazed mind hadn't caught up.
"Eh, uh... ah."
She trembled, unable to form words.
I nicked my fingertip and smeared the blood on her palm.
I ignored the gulp of her throat as she swallowed.
Mindful of possible onlookers, I avoided offering my forearm or anything overt.
As I turned to leave,
"W-Wait, stay here just a moment..."
Yuria grabbed my fingertip desperately and looked up at me.
Her hand shook. She was rattled.
She looked like an abandoned kitten pleading not to be left behind.
Please don't go.
Exactly that.
Truth be told, Yuria was in a massive state of anxiety.
A noble she'd never heard of was buying her, knowing she was a vampire.
-Clunk.
But at that exact moment, the orc trader returned and caught Yuria tugging at my clothes.
It was rudeness enough to turn his smug face to shock.
"Th-That wench dares to touch you without permission!"
Slaves must never touch a noble's body.
That's basic common sense in this world.
"Get off him now!!! After all we've done raising you, you pull this on our guest..."
The bastard who'd just reentered pulled a whip from his belt.
His pouch held potions, explaining the unscarred bodies but shattered minds of other slaves.
This fucker's the problem. Knew it.
Phrenology is real science.
The orc trader scowled and bellowed.
"Apologize right now!!!"
Snap! He swung the whip.
Those hand scars were his doing.
Yuria, forced to play the weak girl, had no choice but to endure the specially modified whip meant to inflict pain without scarring.
But could this asshole really pull this shit in front of the slave I just bought?
Or did other nobles wreck their sex slaves anyway?
Likely the latter.
If a mere bed toy dared touch a noble, this response was proper.
That's why I couldn't punch him outright.
My fist itched with power, but unleashing it would bring me infamy no matter what.
I was just a spoiled young master, and if Rachel saw this, she'd scold me without question.
So, the most optimized way to screw this guy over that I came up with is...
-Snap!
What the swung whip struck...
Was none other than Britna Ian's arm.
.....Ah,
Got hit.
Before he could even be surprised by my protective move over the sex toy, the darkening bruise sealed his despair.
Ian rolled up his sleeve to better show the scars and said,
"...I'd appreciate it if you didn't damage the merchandise. Oh, wait—she's not merchandise anymore. My exclusive maid. Keep your hands off her. If that hand moves once more, I might just hang your head here whole."
".........."
The orc stared at me, dumbfounded for about three seconds.
Exclusive maid?
The freshly sold, one-use sex slave girl.
Suddenly declared hired as exclusive maid in a hyper-speed promotion—no, outright employment. He couldn't keep up.
It was too sincere to be just a ploy to screw him over.
But if his torn clothes and bruised scars got out, his life was forfeit.
Thud!
He had no choice but to smash his head to the ground.
Blood trickled from the orc's green forehead.
His revolting yellow eyes flicked toward me pleadingly.
A silent scream for mercy.
But the one holding his life had no intention of granting it.
This bastard must die as Yuria's revenge target too. Not by my hand.
I smirked, draping my outer coat over my arm to hide the scars.
Suddenly, a pale hand slipped through the bars and tugged my arm.
"...M-Master. May I ask your name again?"
"..."
The orc on the floor slowly turned his gaze toward us, shocked.
Her breath came ragged.
Flushed face, swirling eyes.
The one who'd witnessed a noble protect her trembled fiercely.
She looked desperate for an answer.
Unable to ignore it, I replied,
"A bit soon, but from my own mouth: Britna Ian. You can call me Ian."
"Britna Ian... Ian, Ian, Ian... Ian."
She repeated it fervently, as if vowing never to forget.
Yuria's eyes somehow looked dangerous.
[??????? Danger to your life approaches.]
Level: 99
At the same time, the air around us seemed to drop several degrees.
"Ian... what are you doing?"
The Lord of the North Sea Ice Palace.
Rachel had returned, witnessing the whole scene live.