You're Not My Slaves Anymore, Right?

“I've always wanted to tell you three—thank you.”

Wicker began, and the three of them just blinked at him, bewildered. If anything, it was they who carried gratitude toward him from their childhood days.

But looking at the soft, unguarded expression on his face, they could tell he meant every word.

“The day we parted.”

At those words, their chests tightened all at once. Tia bit down on her lower lip, Luca's fists clenched tight, and Yuri hung her head low.

“I was right on the verge of dying, you know. But when I came to, I'd already been healed. There wouldn't have been time to move me anywhere, and whoever did it was good—so the holy knights on the scene must have worked on me. You asked them to, didn't you?”

“That was…”

A dark wave of guilt rose up inside Tia. It had been their recklessness that started it all—the day Wicker had sprinted all the way down to the tenth floor to find them, the day he'd crossed paths with the knight order. Every bit of it traced back to them pushing deeper into the dungeon than they should have.

Luca felt exactly the same. If only she hadn't lost her head that day, Wicker might never have been hurt at all.

She learned later that the condition for bearing the Hero's Crest was to 'change one's destiny.' The defeat of the chimera that day—for reasons none of them could explain—should never have happened at all.

That day, the three of them may well have been fated to die in that dungeon.

“No, it was our fault. We owed you our lives, Wicker, and still we…”

“How could that possibly be your fault?”

Wicker gently shook his head.

“You were just kids, and you conquered a dungeon like that and talked the knight order into saving me. That's extraordinary. The debt is mine to carry.”

“…Hnnng.”

Listening to him, Yuri couldn't hold back her tears any longer.

“I'm sorry. For leaving without a word.”

“It was lonely.”

The three of them flinched at his words—but he had no intention of blaming them.

“I missed you. The knight order took you in and found you adoption placements, right? Have you all been well since then?”

Yuri clenched her fists at the question. Then, as if steeling herself, she opened her mouth.

“A-actually, that day, we…”

She wanted so badly to tell him everything that had happened after they left.

But somehow, the words wouldn't come.

Hero. That single word simply refused to leave her lips.

'“You're not allowed to reveal your identities”—does THAT count too?! Goddess!'

Yuri had protested to the Goddess immediately, but the only answer she got back was that this, too, was for her own good.

When Yuri turned her head, Tia—having somehow read her mind—shot her a warning glance to hold it in.

Yuri understood. Of course she did.

The number of people in the world who knew the three of them were Heroes could be counted on one hand.

The day they were first taken under the Imperial Knight Order's protection, the secret accord on the Heroes struck between the Empire, the Holy State, and the Magic State had torn the three of them apart, one to each nation.

Each was sent to the country that suited them best. They were never given a choice.

Because the three of them had refused to give up their nametags, none of the nations could publicly proclaim them as Heroes—and so, unable to parade them as trophies, the three powers decided instead to turn them into mysterious, unseen forces of deterrence.

Their approaches differed in the details, but they had all agreed on one thing: to hide the three of them completely, so that each could quietly exert influence over the others.

That policy held even once the war began in earnest and the Human Alliance was formed.

After all, once the alliance dissolved, the next war would inevitably be fought among humans themselves.

Even after the subjugation of the Demon King's army stripped them of direct control over the Heroes, the three nations would still be able to flaunt the fact that they possessed the Heroes at all.

And so the three's identities were a secret among secrets.

In the Empire, only the Emperor and Aisha knew. In the Magic State, only the Council of Mages, the Magic Tower Master included. In the Holy State, only the Pope and a handful ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of cardinals.

These were the key cards that would move the entire political landscape of the human world—vital intelligence that, if it ever reached Wicker's ears, would put him in grave danger.

Even if he was their teacher. Their mentor. Their beloved.

Yuri understood that danger all too well.

The Magic Tower Master was one thing, but the Emperor of the Empire and the Pope of the Holy State were exactly the kind of men who would stop at nothing.

Men who would do anything to eliminate a risk who knew too much. And the three of them had already seen Wicker's heart pierced before their very eyes, once.

It was a memory too terrible to bear.

Not one of them ever wanted to experience it a second time.

However strong they had become, that was a separate matter entirely—the blasphemous act of forging, with their own hands, the very possibility of losing the person most precious to them.

Having settled her thoughts, Yuri answered slowly.

“…I stayed at a monastery. I joined the church and studied healing arts. I was well taken care of.”

“A monastery. That suits you—Yuri, you were always praying.”

Wicker smiled lightly as he listened.

“Yes! I lived with my grandfather. A stubborn old man ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠who eats nothing but honey porridge for breakfast—but somehow he's still this tall?”

“I got an older sister. She taught me the sword. We go mountain climbing together all the time.”

Tia and Luca poured out thirteen years' worth of stories, and Wicker listened, nodding along, as though determined not to miss a single word.

“And then you wanted to study at the Academy, so you enrolled.”

“Th-that's right.”

“Yes, yes! I'd always dreamed of the Academy!”

“Not me.”

“Say you did!”

Tia jabbed Luca in the side.

“You were all recommended applicants, weren't you? Your local records must have been impressive. Well, of course they were—it's you three. So—Luca, you want to learn the sword? Tia, magic? And Yuri, healing?”

“Ah, well…”

“No. At the Academy, I want to study something new.”

“I'm sick of healing, honestly…”

Wicker listened to their answers with a serious face.

“I see. Do you have subjects in mind?”

“Ah, not yet…”

“Me neither…”

“Nope.”

Only then did the three realize they'd forgotten something crucial.

They had agreed only not to use their specialties—they'd never once thought about what subjects they actually wanted to pursue.

Wicker was a professor now. No professor would welcome students who walked in with no goals at all.

Least of all him—a man who needed to see every one of his students graduate with Opticulum scores just to secure his Chair Professorship.

But Wicker's face was steady as he placed his trust in them.

“There's no subject you three couldn't master. The Academy is a place to learn what you're good at—but it's also a place to find what you want to do. Let's take our time and search for it together.”

“Ah…”

The three of them understood then.

Wicker had changed so much in thirteen years. He had worked and struggled, and he was standing at the most critical juncture of his bid for a Chair Professorship—and yet, to him, the three of them meant more than any of it.

He was exactly the same as the man who had once pushed his own adventurer's career aside to put them first.

“…Orabeoni.”

Unable to hold back a moment longer, Yuri leapt up and darted to the sofa where Wicker sat. In a flash she settled her hips into the plush cushion, buried her head against his side, and drank in his warmth and his scent until her lungs were full.

“Hey—Yuri!”

In the instant Tia called out her name, Luca was already moving. She claimed the open spot on his left, hooked her arm through his, and leaned her head on his shoulder.

“Luca too?! Seriously!”

Furious, Tia sprang up from her seat. She meant to pull them apart, but both of them already had their eyes closed, savoring Wicker with every inch of their bodies.

Wicker, for his part, seemed to still see the three of them as the little children they'd once been—no matter how they clung to him, he only returned a gentle, kindly smile.

'I can't live like this….'

Tia squeezed her eyes shut. She should have moved the moment Yuri claimed her spot, and now she was too late.

'The only spot left is….'

Left and right were full, which left only front or back. Behind was out of the question—the sofa's backrest was in the way.

In front… there did seem to be a little room.

'…Why do men always sit with their legs spread?'

Even as she questioned the fundamental architecture of the male body, Tia decided the space in front of Wicker was an opportunity, and slowly began to slide her hips in.

“Oh.”

“Tia! That is going TOO far!”

Luca and Yuri reacted violently at the sight of Tia primly seating herself in Wicker's V-shaped zone. But it was Tia who snapped back first.

“You two went over the line first! This is the only spot left!”

Her nerves lasted all of a moment. As she slowly pressed her hips against Wicker's thigh, his right arm reached out and drew her upper body toward him.

“Hyaa—”

Tia's back came to rest against the firm wall of his chest and stomach. Before she knew it, the tension drained out of her body, and a cozy warmth bloomed up through her almost immediately.

Wicker gave a few soft pats on her lower belly—a habit from the old days, something he'd often done when she couldn't fall asleep. Tia's eyelids slid shut on their own as she melted into the gentle touch.

“Girls.”

Wicker said, his voice low, almost a whisper.

“Outside, you have to call me Professor.”

“…Yesss.”

“Yeees….”

“Mmm….”

The three of them answered in a daze, as if already lost in a dream.

We took a short rest. Since there was still a great deal to sort out, I talked with the three of them a while longer.

“The semester was supposed to start tomorrow, but given the circumstances, I expect it'll be delayed a few days. Your dormitory assignments will be decided in the meantime. The Goddess personally places the recommended students, so…”

“Don't worry! All three of us are coming to the Earth House!”

Yuri declared with tremendous confidence. Well—if it changed later, they could stay here temporarily for a few days regardless.

“Hmm. Then you may as well stay here starting tonight.”

“Gasp—I need to pick my room right away! Wicker, which room is yours?”

“My room? Leave the professor's office and the residential wing is to the left, though right now only the vice professor and I use it. Students are on the second floor and up…”

“Then there must be plenty of empty rooms. Perfect.”

“You're planning to use THIS wing? It's not against the rules, technically, but if the other students saw…”

“We cast an invisibility ward. Good for three years.”

“Hmm.”

An astonishingly quick-to-act trio, these three.

“But first, there's one thing I need to check.”

I opened my status window.

“You're not contracted to me as slaves anymore, right?”

“Huh?”

“No, of course not.”

“It got severed when we parted.”

All three answered instantly, in perfect unison.

Hmm.

That would make sense.

was a 5-Skull job, so it would take priority and display over their current nametags of , , or .

Whether because my death and revival coincided with the moment our contracts broke, the status window seemed to have glitched somehow.

I checked the Slave Merchant skill window, the one I almost never had occasion to open.

My merchant line's level had risen over the years, and the skill levels had climbed along with it.

A few characters had glitched out, though—the window looked to be in poor shape.

Just to be safe, I ought to test it once.

'Contract Termination.'

A message appeared on the status window.

The fact ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that it stalled out here confirmed it—the status really was glitched.

Then again, thanks to that very glitch I could now use [Slave Exploitation], so every cloud had its silver lining.

It was the skill that let me borrow and use one of Luca's, Tia's, or Yuri's skills. At level one, the cooldown was twenty-four hours.

What a frighteningly versatile job, Slave Merchant.

Glancing at the skills the three of them possessed, I could easily imagine how hard they had trained and studied all these years.

Some skills were listed as [Unrevealed], so I couldn't see everything—but Luca had advanced to Sword Master, Tia to Grand Sorceress, and Yuri to high-tier Healer. Their abilities were at a level where it wouldn't be strange to say they were already gazing at the ranks above.

The fact that none of them had been granted a 3-Star title meant they had no interest in walking those old roads—that they were out searching for new dreams of their own.

If I could, I wanted to help them find those dreams.

“No plans tomorrow, any of you?”

When I asked, the three shook their heads in perfect sync. They moved like sisters, those two—er, all three.

“Let's go out. There's an Academy-exclusive shopping district in the outlying village. You'll need supplies for the semester—your uniforms first.”

At the word uniforms, anticipation lit up all three of their faces.

“What time should we wake up? Four? Three?”

“We're going! We're DEFINITELY going!”

“Yes, yes! We can't wait!”

The three of them were practically bouncing off the walls—like children the night before their first field trip.

Could it really be that exciting? Cute, though.

“Hrrrrrgh—.”

In the VIP chamber, Sword Saint Aisha lay sprawled on the plush sofa, head thrown back with all her might, snoring to the fullest extent of her considerable lung capacity.

Click. The door opened, and footsteps radiating pure self-satisfaction strode into the room.

The newcomer paused to stare at the soundly dozing Aisha for a long moment, then planted herself in front of her and tapped the floor with her foot. Tap, tap.

Thwack!

When not even one stomp produced a reaction, she kicked Aisha squarely in the shin with an irritated, full-force swing of her leg.

“Dammit, what the hell! You don't wake a sleeping dog, you little—!”

Aisha shot up in a fury, dragging herself out of half-sleep with every ounce of temper she possessed, and squared off against her assailant.

A rather long nametag caught her eye.

The Emperor narrowed her eyes at Aisha, cold and cutting.

“An Emperor lower than a cur has come calling, General.”

'I am so, so screwed.'

Aisha's face broke out in a cold sweat in an instant.