The Slave Who Hides Her Power (4)
On the road back to the mansion after the auction had ended, the hour was already late—nearly midnight.
Forty-eight million six hundred thousand... Bought quite a lot, didn’t I.
Shiron stared blankly at the receipt in his hand. The expenditure had far exceeded his expectations, yet paying the sum listed there posed no difficulty.
The black card he carried was accepted even at this Auction. A magical card with neither limit nor interest had transferred every bid item into his possession without a scrap of collateral.
Of course, it was a debt he would have to repay someday. Having no intention of simply waiting until the Empire collapsed without ever settling it, Shiron slipped the black card into his coat along with the receipt.
That aside, the debt isn’t what matters right now.
One might wonder what could possibly outweigh a debt nearing fifty million, but given the situation staring him in the face, an open-ended debt hardly ranked as important at all.
Shiron narrowed his eyes and watched the two figures walking ahead.
"What’s your name?"
"Please call me Elysee, Master."
"Aww, you don’t have to call me Master so stiffly. Just Lady Siriel, or Miss, is fine."
"Then I shall do so."
The woman who called herself Elysee answered Siriel—who only came up to about her solar plexus—in a perfectly level tone. In the end, Shiron had failed to break Siriel’s resolve to bring that woman into the mansion.
Really...
Had Siriel truly pressed the button of her own free will?
Suspicion and unease took root, leaving Shiron’s thoughts in turmoil.
Whether she sensed any of it or not, Siriel’s steps toward the mansion remained bright and free of drowsiness even though bedtime was long past. Her entire attention had been captured by the woman who was about to become a new member of the household.
"Does anything hurt?"
"No. They treated me well at the Auction."
"Hmm. You don’t smell bad either—if anything, you smell like flowers."
"I bathed and purified myself before taking the stage. That doesn’t mean I neglect washing on ordinary days, so please don’t worry."
"Your speech isn’t crude either. For a slave, you’re remarkably well-educated... How did such a good girl end up wandering like this? Isn’t it strange, Oppa?"
"How would I know."
When Siriel twisted around to speak, Shiron answered curtly.
In the end, bringing that thoroughly suspicious woman into the mansion had been decided.
It was not a matter of shouting her down or simply overriding her wishes. Cruelly enough, there was a regulation that forbade canceling an item once the bid had been placed. If one truly wished to back out, the only option was to pay a penalty equal to one hundred percent of the bid price.
Like hell I’m ever setting foot in that place again.
And so, debt or no debt, four million seven hundred thousand shillings was far too vast a sum to simply hand over to a stranger for free. A sudden nosebleed at the auction house, the gut feeling that the woman’s eyes had glittered—none of it was of the slightest help in the present situation.
They all claim to be so confident in their strength that I can’t just go wild either.
The Auction’s military force was an element that never appeared in the game. Moreover, the woman named Elysee chatting amiably with Siriel was not a character who appeared in the game at all. Shiron could not afford to act rashly.
Bluff or not, if it had been someone like Hugo—said to be the strongest in the Empire—or Glenn, listed in the setting materials among the strongest beings in the world, he could have charged ahead without looking left or right. Unfortunately, the only cards Shiron held were two demon maids.
Of all times for Hugo to be away on an expedition...
Heaving a deep sigh, Shiron decided to keep watch over the woman called Elysee.
For better or worse, Elysee had made no sudden moves on the entire journey from the Auction to the mansion. Yet he could read no intention whatsoever from her expression or behavior. She simply continued to radiate a lonely air, like a woman nursing a deep wound in some corner of her heart. If it was an act, it was good enough to fool anyone—her demeanor was that of a flawlessly solitary slave.
"Well then, Oppa! I had fun today!"
Upon reaching the main building, Siriel turned and clasped both of Shiron’s hands. Only when it was nearly midnight did she finally release her cousin and set him free.
"Thank you for keeping me company so late. You must be exhausted. Hurry inside and sleep."
"Aw, exhausted? Not at all."
Shiron pushed his uneasy feelings aside and smiled at Siriel.
"Sleep well. Sweet dreams. And... Elysee, was it?"
After stroking Siriel’s hands, he shifted his gaze to the side.
"Yes."
With the restraints removed from her limbs, Elysee had become a woman of such beauty that she would shine no matter where she was presented—far removed from the impression of a slave.
"Please take good care of Siriel."
Shiron held out a hand toward her, wearing the clean, pleasant expression of a thoroughly good-natured young man.
"...What does this mean? I don’t understand."
"It means let’s shake hands. Don’t like it? Then you don’t have to."
"No. It would be an honor."
Elysee bent slightly at the waist and took Shiron’s hand.
And then Shiron manifested his holy power.
Yet no brilliant light burst forth. Only a warm energy was confined between their joined hands. He deliberately tried to draw Elysee’s full attention to himself. No demon would stand idle while a brat “attacked” them with holy power.
It was a mad thing to attempt without any insurance, but Shiron had something to rely on. Recalling the face of a certain cheeky maid, he watched Elysee’s expression.
His expectations were thoroughly dashed.
"...Young Master’s hand is rather warm."
"Is that so? First I’ve heard of it."
Faced with her faintly smiling face, it was Shiron who ended up flustered.
Not a demon either?
There was no reaction whatsoever to holy power strong enough to make even the high-ranking demon Encia frown. That sight eased his mind a little. He now had more reason to keep watching.
Once Shiron left, the butler Philip appeared as if from nowhere and guided Siriel and Elysee onward. Their destination was the western annex of the main building, where the mansion’s servants primarily stayed.
Walking lightly so as not to wake anyone sleeping, Siriel said,
"This will be your room from now on. Is there anything you’re curious about or need?"
"No. Nothing. Rather, I am filled only with gratitude for such excessive consideration."
"Mm-hmm. You’re truly a good girl. I’m liking you more and more."
Crossing her arms and nodding, Siriel looked up at the butler.
"Ahem. Then, Butler."
"Yes, my lady."
"Starting tomorrow, educate her so she can faithfully fulfill her role as a servant. And of course, have her greet Mother as well."
"As you command."
"Great!"
Siriel beamed, apparently quite satisfied with her imitation of Eldrina.
"See you tomorrow!"
Click—
Siriel cheerfully waved and closed the door.
For a moment Elysee simply stared at the closed door.
"...This house seems pretty decent."
Blinking a few times, she grinned. As if shedding her skin and becoming someone new, her entire atmosphere shifted.
The little lady was kind, and the house was spacious. Moreover, the potential of the girl who was to be her master was the finest among any human she had ever seen.
Whoosh—
Elysee waved a hand through the empty air. The gesture held no real meaning, but without her “staff,” this was how she wanted to lift her mood for the moment.
Soon a change overtook the room she occupied. A rainbow-hued barrier spread across it like a living erosion.
10-Star Magic
Phantasmal Manifestation
With this, no one would ever know what happened inside the room. Even if an outside observer peered through the window, their own imagination would substitute the most suitable scene in place of the truth.
"Ugh... Aah! I thought I’d die of boredom!"
It was not only the space that changed. Her appearance shifted into something far more comfortable as well.
Gone were the crimson hair and black eyes; only a woman with violet eyes and silver hair heavy with gray remained.
The owner of the staff set with a Transcendence Stone—Seira—flopped onto the bed and began kneading her shoulders. Having worn those ill-fitting restraints all day long, her shoulders and hips ached in every direction.
"By the way..."
But there had been something interesting enough today to make her forget the discomfort. Or should she call it a discovery?
Though the overload had made her nose bleed, some brat had withstood her mental interference—something that had never once failed against a human. Shiron, was it? It was the first time since Kyle died five hundred years ago.
"What a cheeky little brat."
Seriously. How did a human kid who doesn’t look special at all recognize the staff?
The Forgotten Mage Seira licked her lips once.
Raising the bid that high should have been more than enough to make him give up, yet that brat had inflamed the bidding war with bloodshot eyes. Twenty-seven million five hundred thousand shillings was not a sum even the royalty of a small nation could handle lightly. Moreover, that staff had nothing but the flashy label “Transcendence Stone” and the image of being seven hundred years old.
"A brat crazy about antiques?"
No one should have known about the belongings of Seira, who had been forgotten by the world. She regarded Shiron as little more than a mad antique collector.
But that boy was not simply a boy crazy about antiques. Seira clearly knew what the warm sensation she had felt from his hand was.
Holy power. And of quite high purity at that.
Something a child of that age simply could not manifest...
Then a pure, almost innocent question suddenly occurred to her.
That aside, why did he use holy power?
Seira stroked her chin and pondered.
Don’t tell me he mistook me for a demon?
"Ahahaha!"
She clutched her stomach and rolled across the bed. Shamelessly, she cackled for quite a long while.
Living a life of amusement for so many years, she occasionally found herself mistaken for the very demons she had spent a lifetime fighting. Situations as rare as beans in a drought like this were precisely why Seira could never bring herself to quit her life of play.