I Will Not Become a Slave; I Will Become the Master of the World!
It was a famous saying left behind by Teacher Grommash Hellscream. Though after shouting that line, he ended up falling to the level of a princess. Come to think of it, wasn't that also a form of female corruption? Anyway, enough with the idle chatter. I had no desire to be sold to my fiancée as a slave.
Marriage itself wasn't all that different from becoming a slave, but I at least didn't want our reunion to happen while I wore restraints like some prisoner. Anyone would feel the same. Just as a woman would fix her makeup before meeting her boyfriend, I wanted to remove these damn restraints before facing my fiancée.
I struggled with all my might to break free, but they didn't budge an inch. The restraints were solid, and the chains connecting them were frighteningly sturdy. The bastards who crafted these things must have been diligent. When I got out, I'd have to crush the construction guild scum along with these slave traders.
If only I had something like a metal pick, I could somehow open these restraints. Right on cue, I spotted one of the slave traders walking past my iron bars.
"Hey, you there! No—Teacher!"
The slave trader turned his head and looked at me. Wow, look at that face. If he walked down the street, people would immediately think, That's a slave trader right there. Maybe he'd been teased so relentlessly about looking like one that he'd actually become this pathetic, corrupted soul? A victim of his environment.
But I had no intention of pitying him. No matter what had happened in his past, walking the path of trash like this was entirely his own choice.
"...Hey! Are you deaf? Why are you just standing there blankly after I called you?"
"Sorry. I was lost in thought for a moment..."
"You call someone over and then suddenly drift off? What the hell is wrong with you!"
"That face of yours... You've clearly been through a lot of hardship. I pity you, at least in that regard."
I offered pity to the face that looked pitiable no matter how you sliced it.
"Huh? What are you on about? My lover says my face is handsome. I think so too, actually."
I needed to correct myself. He was simply a man with terrible taste in faces. And not just that—the fact that a man with completely ruined eyes was paired with a woman... What kind of monster would their child become?
"You... should use contraception. Diligently."
Before unleashing a monster upon this world.
"What the hell are you suddenly talking about? What's your business?"
"Ah, well..."
Thinking about it now, there was no way he'd hand over a metal pick if I asked directly. A fatal miscalculation. My original plan had been to request one, use it to unlock the restraints, pick the door, and escape. I'd messed up from the very first step.
While pondering what to do, I came up with a clever idea.
"Could you slip me just one sword?"
"Are you insane? Why would I give a sword to someone locked in a cell?"
"Then could you unlock these restraints for me?"
"If I was going to unlock them, why restrain you in the first place?"
"Goddamn it, this doesn't work, that doesn't work—what the hell do you want from me!"
"This guy's completely lost it."
"Then let's settle for one metal pick."
"What?"
It was my secret plan. When you keep demanding something unreasonable from the start and then later offer a slightly easier condition, most people will accept it. How about that? Even Zhuge Liang would shed tears at this body's stratagem.
"I've seen every kind of crazy bastard, but you... I'm leaving, so stop the bullshit and behave yourself."
Zhuge Liang did cry. Probably from laughing so hard that tears came out. Zhuge Liang, you son of a bitch. Try being in my situation. Even you wouldn't have an answer.
"Ah, seriously, just give me one metal pick. You're so damn stingy."
What was so difficult about it? It wasn't like I was going to stab someone with it. I just wanted to unlock the restraints, pick the door lock, and escape. Was the world truly this cold-hearted?
At that moment, I heard the clink of metal hitting the floor. I looked down to see a blunt, thin metal pick rolling across the ground inside my cell.
"What the fuck?"
"How bored must he be to want to play with even a metal pick? Tsk tsk..."
It was that same slave trader from before. It seemed he'd mistaken me for an idiot so desperately bored that he'd play with a metal pick. To hand one over just for that reason... The guy was a genuine moron.
As a slave trader, he should have been part of an underworld organization, yet he handed over a tool that could be used for escape or threats for such a stupid reason. This must be why people say you need an education. If you're as ignorant as him, you can't even do the slave trader job properly.
Besides, if he'd known I was a magician, he never would have given me that pick. He must have been a low-ranking grunt who hadn't received the full briefing. Really, in any society, the grunts are always the problem.
The moment he walked away, I shoved the metal pick into the keyhole of my restraints. The sound of metal scraping against metal echoed—clank, clank. I'd learned how to pick locks and handcuffs the hard way since childhood, so this was child's play.
Though that saying about things being "child's play" was surprisingly difficult to live up to. Porridge should be eaten hot; once it gets cold, what's the point?
With a satisfying clunk! the restraints fell open.
Finally freed from my shackles, I felt a rush of liberation—and with it, I pitied the black slaves who'd lived their entire lives in such bonds until death. And I made a vow. I would take revenge on those slave trader bastards who oppressed others. I would pour out punishment for daring to imprison the Grand Magician Werner, along with the accumulated resentment of all those who'd spent their lives in forced labor.
"Wind, become a blade."
⟨ Wind Blade ⟩
The razor-sharp gale sliced through the iron bars as easily as cutting tofu. The moment I stepped out, a patrolling slave trader spotted me and jumped in terror.
"How did you get out? You were definitely wearing the magic-sealing restraints..."
"Blame yourself for failing to properly train your subordinates."
"What?"
"Thunder, crawl like a snake."
⟨ Lightning Serpent ⟩
High-voltage current shot from my fingertips, slithering like a snake before wrapping around the slave trader's body. The smell of grilled meat filled the air, drawing the rest of the slave traders running.
"Fuck, what is this?! The magician bastard got out! Get him!"
"Don't kill him! Just break one arm or leg!"
"Who the hell let him escape?!"
They rushed me in a chaotic mob. Since Werner was a magician, they must have assumed he'd be weak in close combat. In truth, Werner's martial skills were merely passable compared to his magic. If we compared it to math, Werner's magic ability was like the Schrödinger equation while his martial arts were barely quadratic.
But that was Werner's story. The me inside him was nowhere near weak enough to struggle against a bunch of thugs who charged relying only on numbers. I'd been trained since childhood to handle trash like this with ease.
I twisted one bastard's arm, and he screamed.
"Aaaaargh! My arm! My arm!"
Why was this guy suddenly looking for Nepal? Planning to climb the Himalayas?
After I knocked them all down, a bald man who looked like the boss finally appeared. His body was packed with muscle and covered in scars—clearly no amateur in martial arts.
"Heh heh... Your movements are indeed unusual. Excellent martial technique."
"Are you the boss here?"
"That's right. If you defeat me in a martial match, I'll release all the slaves."
"Oh, really?"
The man took a formal fighting stance.
"Before our match, allow me to introduce myself. I am the one who can shatter even mountains—"
"Wind, become a blade."
⟨ Wind Blade ⟩
The fiercely flying wind blade dismembered the boss's body in an instant.
"I never agreed to any match, yet he was monologuing all by himself."
I had zero interest in dueling with criminal scum like slave traders anyway. What nonsense about releasing them if I won? I'd just beat them all down and free everyone myself. The world really was full of idiots who couldn't do basic calculations. Maybe that's why they'd become slave traders in the first place.
"Boss...! The boss is...!"
"What the hell do we do now?!"
They began to panic. Just as military strategy taught—if you cut off the head, the rest become a disorganized mob. It was exactly as the books said.
"Hey, you lot."
"Y-you mean us?"
They seemed to have grown a bit more polite after witnessing my magic. As expected, magic was an excellent tool for teaching manners. How wonderful to see these uneducated slave trader bastards using honorifics. If Confucius had known magic, he would have written a grimoire instead of the Analects.
"Who else would I be talking to? The other slaves in the cages?"
"What is this regarding...?"
"All of you, get inside the iron cages."
Monitoring them one by one would be annoying, and if I looked away and they took a hostage, it'd be even more troublesome.
"All of us...?"
"I have a feeling that if I say anything else, I'll just start chanting another spell."
"We're going in!"
The remaining slave traders scrambled over each other to get into the cages. Watching them cram themselves into the narrow space, I thought: If I cast magic on them now, it'd be a perfect multi-kill. But with superhuman patience, I suppressed that urge and decided to free the other slaves first.