The Freed S*aves Became Obsessed

Drip.
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Arpia ran her hand along her wrist.

Without the slightest effort, she snapped the restraints apart.

It was thanks to her Servant.

The shackles only suppressed mana.

Spirits were another matter entirely.

She had known from the start—that’s why she allowed herself to be bound so easily.

Because she could break free whenever she wanted.

Though, I wonder if anyone’s ever made a tool that could suppress spirits too.

She had never seen such a thing, but if it ever did exist—well, Karami would probably come to her rescue.

Yeah. No doubt about it.

There was no logic behind it, but Arpia didn’t question it for a second.

As she stepped forward, she glanced down at Hugo’s charred, blackened corpse.

Not a shred of sympathy surfaced.

She was Karami’s slave.

Her body belonged to Karami.

The only one allowed to leave marks on it—was him.

This was the price for daring to sully her body with filthy hands.

Of course, from Hugo’s perspective, it was rather unfair—after all, she had agreed to this.

“If you’ve got a problem with it, try being born an elf next time.”

The world was unfair, after all.

Besides—he had bad intentions from the start. This was his own damn fault.

Without another glance, Arpia moved on, climbing the stairs to leave the basement.

The moment she opened the door—

Thump!

A pair of maid slaves collapsed onto the floor, having been pressed against the door, clearly eavesdropping.

"Kyaa—!"