World: MSS - Loading...

The door opened and Grum came dragging in a slender orc who fought with every last ounce of strength. She jumped up and slammed the bottom of her feet into the wall, like a horizontal deadlifting motion. Grum didn't even notice. He never stopped walking and it was with this casual manner that she was presented before us.

Like Grum, she had pale white-ivory skin with purple inky lines that swirled around her body. But that was where the similarities ended. Where as Grum's body was muscular, she was soft and curved. He was bald with sunken eyelids. She had long locks of shocking poking out from beneath the hood which covered her face. They kept her hands bound behind her back.

But even without seeing her face, I could guess at her rough age. The girl wasn't young, not exactly. She was at that stage, where she was shedding the first signs of girliness for womanhood and it showed. They'd barely dressed her before bringing her out to me.

"Grum."

Before I even had a chance to organize my thoughts at this absolute cultural shock of a display, Jared gave his order and the orc warrior complied immediately. He grabbed her by the hair, bared her throat and ripped the sackcloth off of her face. Immediately, she snarled –simultaneously lunging for the orc's neck with her teeth. The orc simply pulled on her hair with practiced hands and she was forced to bare her throat again. Slight deep purple eyes swiveled left and right, surveying the room.

"Well, Slaveborn. What do you think?"

"What do you mean what I think?" I growled, rounding on the War Prince. "I asked for someone I can use. Not… Not…" I glanced over, seeing her looking at me with barely restrained hatred. A hatred so fierce that I could imagine it as a physical fire that would set me alight.

And maybe it should have.

Jared had done this whole exchange without shedding a sweat but that wasn't the case for me. I'd never been on this side of the exchange before. Never… not like this.

Maybe I'm mistaken but I never tried to do 'good' since my transmigration to MSS. I've never tried to be a Hero. There were times when I got carried away by the moment and made stupid decisions. But a lot of times, those decisions ended up with me growing stronger as a result, with new comrades and people I could rely on. So when I came to Jared, I think deep inside, I was expecting a similar result.

I was naive.

Jared wasn't like me.

I was uncomfortable with the notion of a woman who was tied up against her will. It was just too far out there. My background as a Slave not withstanding, on an instinctually aware that this was wrong. That treating someone like this, –an orc, a beastman, it didn't matter which– went against everything about life that I believed in. I'd rather slit someone's throat than make them a slave. To take away someone's choice, to take away their future and take away the basic freedom of eating when you want, going wherever you want, shitting when you want…

Jared didn't believe in any of that.

His eyes were exactly the same as when he had been speaking to the Nobles. Calm. In absolute control of his emotions because this scene didn't bother him at all. He didn't see this orc as a woman, or as a living being capable of choice and a life of their own.

He just saw it as a deal.

In my mind, I fantasizing this beautiful scene. Where I leave with this orc healer and I tell them a cool line, 'If you do this with me, I will set you free. Just one job. That's it. I will keep my word'. And they nod and then at Claw's Nest, we battle monsters and overcome hardships together. Then when I finally break the Slave Collar off, they'll decide to join me of their own free will.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

Fantasy is just make-believe.

Delusions of Grandeur.

I wasn't ready for this.

Not to face something like this. The raw reality of what slavery really looked like. A visceral snapshot of the essence of what it meant to cage someone, take away everything from them that made them a person and reforge them into something nothing more than a magical trinket, to be used and tossed away. How it felt to be hated by someone whom you just dreamed of rescuing.

She didn't see me as a savior.

In her eyes, I was no better than Jared.

And I realized right there and then. She'd never join me. No healer of Jared's would.

It wasn't a comrade or a soldier that JAred was offering.

He was giving me a magical healing bot.

…Exactly how I used to treat the people of MSS when they were just pixels on a screen.

"Not this." I finally managed, "This isn't what I came for. And you know it."

I glanced at the orc shaman –the orc equivalent of a priestess, while a witch-doctor class was their equivalent of a mage– trying to convey that this wasn't my idea. Trying to atone somehow for the wrongness of this situation. Alleviate my own guilt somehow.

"Pity." Jared said in that short moment. "Grum."

I barely heard the word.

Grum reached out and broke her neck.

A horrible sound splintered the air. No echoes. No screams bouncing off the walls. No death throes. The light in her eyes didn't fade so much as they compressed into lifeless void.

She crumpled to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

No build up. No rising tension.

Like… like he just asked someone to pass him the salt.

No chance for me to protest.

No chance for me to step in.

Like watching a gray-colorscale movie.

Jared lifted a handkerchief to his nose. Her bowels had released a steady stream of… of things.

And without thinking, I touched my hand to my Dimension Ring, channeling mana through my hand to bring out my sword and shield.

Grum leapt towards me, meaty hands outstretched. The orcs outside the door acted just as fast, only a step behind each other as they rushed me together.

But I was faster.

"Stop."

Jared's voice settled down on us like a physical weight.

And I don't mean metaphorically.

I sank into my chair, my chest touching my knees and Grum actually knelt into the growing pool of filthy.

…Grade-2 Core of the [Udookshini (어둑시니)]: [Command]

Which meant that he had the passive [Grand Entrance]. The reason why he could blend into the background so easily, and then garner the attention towards himself so suddenly. A passive that reacted to whether he was trying to hide or fight, changing the boost to respective stats.

But [Command]'s effectiveness isn't as powerful as people think. It depends on the difference between the [Mental] stat between the user and their opponent. With my [Mental] stat, I could–

I couldn't move.

But Jared had bought the time he needed.

A soft glow of mana, accompanied by the smell of flowers.

My eyes went over to the fallen Slave.

Her neck…

It was uncrumpling. Like a squeezed water bottle that was being filled to the brim, Grum's fat finger marks disappeared as the skin renewed; the bloody-red welts turning white again.

Slowly, but surely…

"Hkk!" The girl's body convulsed, trying to suck in a breath and failing.

"Ghk!! Hkk!! HKK! HHHUUU!"

Each second that passed, she was succeeding. The first few breaths were unsteady. She flopped, simultaneously rejuvenating while suffocating to death from the crushed windpipe. Her heart was beating, but her neck was still too malformed. Eventually, the sliver of air kissed her lungs and she freaked out, desperately trying to suck in more air.

Jared beamed at me. "Magnificent, isn't it?"

"I stole her away from the Uleum Horse. She was the previous War Chief's daughter. Oh, he tried his best to keep her hidden from me. But…" He glanced at Grum, who remained kneeling. The effect of [Command] was over; he was doing it by choice now. "Secrets have a way of getting out."

I could move now too. But all thoughts of violence had halted at the miracle before my eyes.

This was…

I'd never seen anything like it.

14 Years of MSS.

14 fucking years.

Thousands upon thousands of hours of gameplay.

And I'd never seen anything come back from the dead like this.

…Was this a trick? Something similar to how I'd choked Coum to death, but CPR brought the cursed mage back? Albiet with Brain Damage. Was Jared just a clever magician pulling the wool over my eyes?

My guts told me no. That what I was seeing before my eyes was real and genuine. That whatever this girl was, she wasn't just another denizen of MSS. That she had special.

The word 'Fate' struck a chord.

What was it they had said…

That I had a lot of Fate surrounding me?

This girl too.

I knew without a doubt.

She had Fate.

"So, Slaveborn." Jared stood, walking over to the girl and taking a handkerchief to wipe away bits of vomit from her mouth. The same handkerchief that he'd used to cover his face with. Her bowel-filthy went all over his shoes but he paid them no mind, a stark contrast to how he had reacted before.

"What do you think?"

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.