[No title provided]
Suddenly, why was the atmosphere like this? A sex slave? So that meant... I'd become her owner? A slave owner! No way, me, a slave owner?! What the hell was this?! I never asked for anything like this!
"C-can't this be removed?" I asked desperately, but the guild master shook his head.
"This isn't magic or a miracle—it's spirit arts. Specifically, dark elf spirit arts, so I have no idea how to erase it. And since it's a mark inscribed directly by the Spirit King's contractor, no ordinary dark elf or spiritist would dare touch it."
The guild master stared down at the mark for a long while before looking at me with utter confusion.
"Just... why? This is far more humiliating than a mere oath of submission. For a female dark elf to offer this mark means she's hit rock bottom—the absolute lowest of the low. So why would the queen carve it onto you, the Grand Sage?"
I wanted to know too. God, I really wanted to know! What the hell was she thinking, Mirien?
Marco, the knight captain, who had been listening to our exchange, slammed on the brakes.
"Shall we head back to Kaien?"
"And what? Go ask the queen why she branded me as her sex slave? You think she'd answer that any more than she'd tell you if she prefers her left hand or right for... you know, or if she's into lotion or oil? This mark is so mortifying that suicide wouldn't even be surprising if anyone saw it!"
Cornac's explanation—crystal-clear, hitting every point like a pro gamer's guide—swept through the car like a storm, leaving Marco and the escort knights with bewildered expressions.
"No... then why? Why?"
The same question again. But no one had an answer this time either.
To think she'd volunteer herself as a sex slave. In elf society, the weight of a Blood Oath was clear from how those five pillar chieftains had turned into administrative slaves after just one. This wasn't even something she'd signed up for as collateral.
What the hell was that paranoid queen in the final stages of suspicion disorder thinking? Wasn't she scared? Sure, I had no intention of using it, but what if I actually invoked the mark, summoned her, and demanded... that stuff? What then?
The silence in the car stretched on, long and heavy. In the end, none of us understood why the queen had done this to herself until we arrived back in Yurtel.
"Hahaha! So the export of Sun's Tear is resuming!"
"Yes. And that's not all—we brought back all sorts of rewards too."
Marco the knight captain and his two escorts. Cornac the guild master. And me. We all unanimously kept silent about the sex slave mark. No point in blabbing; everyone knew it wouldn't do any good.
The count clapped his hands in delight.
"Excellent! Guild master! When can we start producing Sun's Tear?"
"Judging by the amount the queen provided, we can make about ten vials within a week."
"Perfect—no issues at all. Right? Our Grand Sage won't suddenly drop dead from a rare disease mid-fortune-telling! Everything's gone smoothly, hasn't it?"
Smooth? There was a massive problem etched right onto my forearm... but on the surface, it was a resounding success.
"Well done! Guild master, take the day off and rest—then start production on Sun's Tear tomorrow. Marco, Gilbert, Nolan! You all did great too! The jewels you got are yours to keep—use 'em to craft some runes. And our Grand Sage, Yurtel's new pride and joy!"
The count approached me, linking arms with me in a friendly manner.
"Wanna see how the fortune shop's changed while you were away? Bet you're curious."
I was.
"I'd love to."
"Right! Let's go take a look!"
I followed the count with eager anticipation. After about five minutes in the car, we arrived at my shop... wait, hold on, Count? This wasn't just a move to a bigger place.
"There was a tourist district with declining foot traffic, so I revamped the whole area! See that big building smack in the center? I turned the entire thing into your fortune-telling shop! Interior, materials, workers—everything's top-tier!"
The count was generous. Overly generous.
One entire section of Yurtel's tourist district had been reorganized around my shop.
"Yurtel's pride is its massive theme parks and hot springs, right? I put up huge screens so customers can wait comfortably, and piped hot spring water underneath for foot baths. No more sore feet from long waits."
And that was just the start. Hotels, restaurants, street vendors, souvenir shops, neatly organized signs and maps—the count had business savvy that belied his knight background.
"Grand Sage, you don't have to worry about a thing. Just open up, see customers, consult, send 'em off—that's it. Customer management, entertaining the waiting crowd, shop maintenance, queue handling—my handpicked staff will cover all that. No stress; just do what you do. Simple, eh?"
The count's thoughtfulness and service were enough to bring tears to my eyes. Compared to my cramped little shop started with savings from waitering gigs, this was chest-thumpingly grand.
"Thank you, Count."
I bowed politely, but he laughed heartily and waved it off.
"I'm the thankful one. Without you, I'd be in a coffin by now. This is just breaking even, right?"
He patted my shoulder and pointed to a flashy building right next to the shop.
"Used to be a hotel—totally remodeled it. Turned the top-floor royal suite into your personal home. Live there from now on. Room service is free—on the territory's dime. Eat, play, whatever you want inside. Oh, and there's a private sauna and hot spring bath too—use 'em anytime."
Sauna and private onsen? The Kaien trip had been a brutal march. Endless consultations, scraping together funds from grand sorcerers after shaking 'em down, staying calm while prophesying before a dark elf queen ready to kill me at any moment. My body ached, but my mind was exhausted. All I wanted was hot water to melt the fatigue.
"Can I head up and rest now?"
"Of course! The shop's still under construction for a few weeks, but the hotel was already operating—just renovated. Great work, Grand Sage! Rest up till it opens! Haha!"
"Thank you, Count."
He dropped me at the hotel. Following the staff's lead, I took the elevator to the top floor and opened the door to a spacious, pristine luxury suite. Maybe 2,300 square feet? Way too big and fancy for one guy.
I wandered around in a daze before finally spotting the haven I'd craved: the bathroom. In the middle of a wide-open veranda, an open-air bath with a killer city view of Yurtel, steam rising invitingly. I couldn't hold back.
I stripped and slipped into the onsen. A long, endless sigh escaped me unbidden. Aaah, this is life.
My tension melted away, and I slumped into the water. Constantly reading people's info was heavy labor, but piecing it into advice was just as draining. The past weeks had been brutal—things I'd never imagined facing in a lifetime, but no regrets. Here I was, soaking in a royal suite onsen.
Time for a drink.
About an hour of mindless bliss later, I ordered room service via intercom and devoured a feast of gourmet dishes till I was stuffed. After drying off and eating my fill, exhaustion hit like a truck. I flopped onto the bed. Aaah, perfect. This is heaven.
Why couldn't I see my own future? If I'd known it'd turn out this good, I wouldn't have stressed so much.
"Seeing your own future is hell."
Mom's words echoed again.
"Why? You could check lotto numbers, buy 'em every day, get rich!"
"Your future shifts wildly with every choice—staring at that constantly would drive anyone mad. And knowing when or how you'll die? You couldn't live like a human. Ignorance is a blessing. Shamans who saw their own futures all met bad ends."
I still didn't fully get it. I'd always wanted to peek at mine. What would it be like? Would things keep going this well?
Who knew. But one thing was sure.
"Let's keep pushing forward, Aiden."
I'd give it my all with my abilities. Half-asleep, I mumbled it to myself. Giggling at my own words, I closed my eyes.
And soon after, I fell asleep...
"What fine words."
...or not.
A familiar voice from the corner of my bedroom shattered my drowsiness, plunging it from heaven to hell in an instant. I bolted upright like a spring.
And there, defying all logic, was an impossible sight.
In one corner of the room stood Dark Elf Queen Mirien, poised regally.
How? No door sound, nothing!
Too shocked to speak, I gaped at her. She smirked and approached.
"I am the Spirit King's contractor. Even a top-tier spiritist can reshape terrain alone—think I couldn't manage this?"
She pointed to the oath mark on my arm.
"Thanks to the oath I left, finding you was simple. Nice place. I prefer my wooden palace, but this architecture isn't bad."
She casually scanned the room. Snapping out of it, I got out of bed and stood politely, facing her.
"Your Majesty, to what do I owe this visit?"
She sat on the bed I'd just vacated, as if it were natural, giving me a cryptic smile.
"The oath mark on your arm. Figured out what it means?"
I swallowed hard.
"Yes. I have."
"Good."
Mirien slowly trailed her hands down her own chest. A simple motion, but her expression and the mood turned it intensely erotic.
"Come to me."
I couldn't resist her command; I approached. She smiled at my bowed head.
"Look into my eyes."
Like when hearing prophecies. During fights. And...
Face burning, I looked up at her. She extended her tongue, licking her lips teasingly.
"Touch the mark and command—I am yours. No matter how perverse or sadistic your demands, I cannot refuse."
Shadows gently enveloped the bedroom. A perfect, sealed chamber.
"No screams of pain or moans of pleasure will reach outside."
Embarrassed, I tried to look away, but shadows climbed my body, locking my gaze on her. Our eyes met squarely.
The meaning was crystal clear.
"Do with me as you will."