The Slave's Mission
"Hoo."
I'd wiped out an entire family. It couldn't be helped.
"What do you plan to do with me...!"
Linea Rosianne, the lady of the marquess house I'd just destroyed.
No, not anymore. The Rosianne family had vanished into the dustbin of history, so just Linea now.
She glared up at me, grinding her teeth as if she might lunge at me any second.
But it was all an act. Her trembling body gave her away.
"You're going to be my slave."
"You think the imperial family will just sit by if you lay a hand on Linea Rosianne? You, a mere commoner..."
"Black Magic."
Linea's pupils quivered for an instant.
"The Rosianne family researched black magic. You think the empire—or even the Holy Kingdom—would let that slide if it got out?"
"...I wasn't involved. The family head did it on his own."
"Then you definitely need to be my slave. I'll clear your name for you."
"Better to bear a false accusation than have a marquess's daughter turned into a slave."
She was still deluded.
"You don't have any choices."
"Just kill me! I won't be a slave to some commoner."
"I've told you over and over: you don't get to choose anything."
I grabbed Linea's throat. Not too hard.
Even so, terror washed over her face.
"Stop! Please, stop...!"
I'll be gentle.
Muttering to myself, I etched the pre-prepared Slave Seal onto her back. Then I fitted her with the collar.
As soon as it was on, the collar turned transparent.
"Linea."
"..."
Linea hung her head, dazed.
"Answer me."
I issued the command by force.
"...Yeah."
"Considering your situation, I put the seal on your back instead of your neck. And I got you a transparent collar. No complaints?"
"Th-thank you."
Linea knelt with a humiliated expression.
"How do you address me?"
"...Master."
She bit her lip hard before barely finishing the word.
This is so much easier.
Reforming villainesses? I'd read plenty of novels about beating them, seducing them, or saving them.
But I had no confidence in that, nor any need for it.
So I just made her a slave.
I'd possessed a romance fantasy novel. The title was something like 'All the Bigshots Are Obsessed With Me', right?
Nothing special about the plot. Your standard romance fantasy where a commoner heroine reels in all the continent's top hunks.
No real unique hooks, but it wasn't bad. The villainesses positioned against the heroine were appealing.
They didn't drone on with tragic backstories or get introduced one by one as love interests.
Just pure villains who hated seeing a commoner climb the social ladder.
That's how villainesses should be.
And these ones went further: at the ending, they contracted with demons and suddenly destroyed the world.
Why? Because the commoner seized power.
That was it. After all that buildup, the story ended with these crazy bitches flipping out of nowhere.
The comments section exploded, but I was genuinely satisfied. What was the problem? It was fresh and cool.
A nice experiment amid all the brainless happy endings. That's what I thought.
Until I possessed the damn thing.
"Take back the praise, you fucker."
I'd complimented the ending. Everyone else was posting 5700-character rants—why me?
And if you're gonna possess me, make it a northern grand duke or something. Instead, it's some mysterious orphan artisan who doesn't even qualify as an extra.
What bullshit. Not even that—just a nameless orphan.
"Haa..."
Life felt utterly hopeless. Forget the villains I'd praised destroying the world.
Survival was the immediate issue. This shitty body's original owner had no luck; not even attached to an orphanage.
No memories, but I guessed he'd scraped by begging.
Skinny frame. Rags like something flipped inside out. A few moldy coppers in his pocket.
Straight out of the typical "parentless beggar" trope.
What the hell am I supposed to do?
Even if the beggar knew how, I had none of his memories pre-possession. No clue where to start.
Just pick up scraps blindly?
"Get lost, you rat! No bread for beggars!"
Got kicked out and beaten. Dragged my aching body around, but no luck.
At least send me to an orphanage. Please.
Medieval fantasy orphanages couldn't be great, but better than starving, hurting, lonely, freezing, and hopeless.
So I hunted for one more desperately than anyone.
Thud.
But this was the end. No hopeful possession like in the novels.
Just an orphan starving in under a week. That's what I figured.
"Finally found you. Why's a little kid wandering around like this?"
A woman appeared. Her deranged eyes made her figure blurry.
"Good thing I got here right before you croaked."
She muttered to herself.
"Listen up, Ethan. From now on, you're..."
For some reason, she acted like she knew me and called me Ethan. Guess the nameless orphan had a name.
What comes next?
That's when I blacked out.
And when I came to, I was her disciple. Without agreeing to it.
"Swords are superior to everything! Can't compare to those spear twirlers bragging about range or just magic chuckers...!"
The woman ranting sword praises was Erde. The one who'd forced a master-disciple bond on me—a sword god zealot.
And she's a total nutjob...
I didn't know her real age, but Erde looked about my pre-possession age. Zero dignity or maturity in her demeanor.
The type I'd friendzone as a girl buddy if I were an adult. But regardless, she was devoted to me.
Taught me every bit of her swordsmanship without holding back, gave me a cozy home and meals. And unlike her usual airheaded self, she'd give serious masterly advice when needed.
By the time I truly saw her as my master,
Right. Gotta stop those girls.
I remembered possessing the romance fantasy. Despite blissful days sheltered under her skirt.
To avert world destruction, I had to stop the villainesses. Had to go to the novel's main stage, Rozril Academy, a hotbed of variables.
I didn't want to tangle with the leads, but variables popping up without me? Even worse.
Wonder if Erde'll allow it.
She always clung to me like a security blanket. Would she let go?
"I'll write your recommendation."
She approved instantly. I kept her secret: wiping tears with her handknuckles while pretending nonchalance.
"If you get lonely or it's tough, come back. I'll always be waiting."
"Don't wait too long."
"I'll wait. Promise."
"Got it."
I hugged the pouting, foot-stomping Erde tight.
"Don't get hurt. Stay healthy."
She patted my back.
"Got it?"
Erde pulled away with a bittersweet smile.
"Feels like yesterday you were that tiny kid. When'd you grow up?"
She stroked my head wistfully, then left to write the recommendation.
I can hear you, y'know.
Her stifled sobs drifted from afar. Leaning on a pillar, gazing skyward, reminiscing.
Then rummaging noises—hunting paper for the letter.
Wanna just ask her to come along.
But she wouldn't. Erde strictly separated personal feelings from her master role. She'd always said disciples must step out and see the world.
My invite would get shot down.
"Here!"
Erde bounded out beaming. Tear tracks so obvious—thought they'd hide?
I'll play along.
I took the recommendation and we said our final goodbyes.
I'd set out full of bravado, but before Rozril Academy, one thing left: making Linea my slave.
Too extreme? Not at all. Linea was a truly heinous villain.
Personally wiped out her own family for getting in her way. Destroyed the world because she couldn't stand the heroine and her harem of hunks.
Incidents that'd brand anyone history's worst villainess. But these were just excerpts from Linea's rap sheet.
"Hm."
I crossed my arms and looked away. The second I did, Linea was prepping to bolt.
"Guess I need to bind your feet too."
I yanked her Slave Collar with commanding force.
"Hic!"
Transparent or not, it had substance. I locked eyes with the terrified Linea.
She feared me now, but her spirit was unbroken.
"Linea. Know your place."
"Wh-what do you want from me, Ma-Master?"
Corrected her title again. I'd drill it till it stuck.
"What do I want...? What do you think?"
"N-not my... first time...?"
"No. From today, you're just my magic chucker."
What'd she expect?
Go on, spam those spells.