âWhat do you mean, the elf is gone? What are you talking about?â
In the city of Noktar...
Each city had trading companies that controlled its commerce, and in Noktar, the Desert Rose Trading Company held the most influence.
From inside the Desert Rose headquarters, a voice full of shock and frustration echoed beyond the building.
Ropermang, who had been eagerly awaiting the arrival of the elf, had received nothing but terrible news instead.
His secretary gave the report.
âA report from an adventurer says that they found the bodies of the mercenaries on the road to the forest.â
âW-what? All the mercenaries were killed? Was it a monster attack?â
âNo, sir. The bodies all had small stab wounds, and the prison bars where the elf was kept were cleanly cut. It appears to have been the work of trained assassins.â
âAssassinsâ¦!â
Ropermang could hardly believe it.
His entire mercenary band wiped out, the elf stolenâhe had no idea who would dare commit such an atrocity.
Was it other elves? Or enemies of the trading company?
He couldnât say for certain.
When youâre involved in a lucrative business, enemies tend to accumulate, along with a small bonus of grudges.
With no witnesses, tracking them down was impossible.
âMy prized slave⦠my collectionâ¦â
Ropermang collapsed into his chair in despair. The chair creaked under his weight, groaning as if it shared in his pain.
How much money had he spent on capturing the elf? Recruiting mercenaries and providing their accommodations alone had cost him over 200 gold. All that money was now gone.
And he had already bragged to everyone about capturing an elf. He had even made promises to nobles, showing off his upcoming prize. What was he supposed to tell them now?
Sitting there like he had lost the entire world, Ropermang suddenly jolted up.
âW-wait, is there any chance that another elf has come to the city?â
âWould an elf ever come to a filthy city like this? If one did, rumors would have spread long ago.â
âWell, you never know! Maybe that elf came here for some reason. L-look into it for me.â
âUnderstood.â
The secretary answered promptly, though he sighed inwardly.
What are the chances of an elf being in this city?
He could just take his time, come back later, and say he found nothing.
Early morning.
The Duke of Nightâs tavern didnât open until sunset, so during the day, it was a place for peace and quiet.
In the mornings, when the tavern wasnât open for business, Victor would brew coffee and make breakfast for everyone.
Of course, it was free of charge. Considering how much I spent on drinks last night, a free breakfast was the least I deserved.
I was enjoying a leisurely brunch with a cup of coffee when the kids, who had endless energy, finished their meals in a flash. They were already dressed and ready to go out for the day.
They were so full of energy that the sound of their eager feet stomping on the floor echoed like the engine of a tractor.
âWeâre heading out now!â they announced.
âBe careful. This is a dangerous town. Oh, and if you find any girls who want to become slaves, feel free to bring them along,â I said with a grin.
âWho would want that? Even if we found someone, we wouldnât bring them!â one of the girls shot back.
âIf sheâs cute, Iâll buy Matthew that sword heâs been wanting,â I teased.
âThere might be one!â Matthew piped up.
With that, Matthew and the girls left the tavern. He was already on his way to becoming the protagonist of his own harem. That kid owes me big time.
Once the children were gone, the tavern returned to a peaceful quiet. Morning coffee in a cozy atmosphereâthis was the life.
âHow long are you planning to stay here?â Victor asked, polishing a glass.
âMaster, are you trying to kick me out after all Iâve done for you?â
âNo, no, of course not. You saved Emilyâs life. I just thought you didnât seem like the type to stay in one place for long without a purpose.â
âDonât worry. Iâll be staying for a while.â
Noktar was where I planned to start freeing Arpia. Although I had twisted the story a bit from the original, the major events wouldnât change overnight.
I had to stay until then.
Just as I was about to take another sip of coffee, the air in the tavern was suddenly filled with the scent of the forest. The aroma was so strong that it almost made me feel like I was standing in the middle of the woods.
Tap, tap, tap.
Footsteps came rapidly up the stairs. Victor and I both turned to see Arpia emerging from the staircase, her head appearing first.
âAh!â
Our eyes met, and Arpiaâs green eyes widened in surprise. I smiled warmly at her.
âGood morning, Arpia. Did you sleep well? I was worried when you passed out last night from drinking.â
âD-donât make me laugh! How are you still so fine after drinking so much? You cheated, didnât you? No one could drink that much and still be fine!â
She had a point.
If I hadnât used my trick, Iâd have been foaming at the mouth and passed out by now.
âI told you, didnât I? Itâs not a bet if the outcome is obvious. I did warn you, didnât I?â
So what?
I warned you. Youâre the one who chose to dive in.
âArpia, you really should reflect on your actions. Youâre lucky it was me. If it had been someone else, youâd be in big trouble. I didnât wager anything, and I still won. Arenât I such a kind master?â
âYou⦠youâ¦!â
Arpiaâs face flushed with anger as I sipped my coffee, savoring her reaction.
âI-I refuse to accept this!â
Suddenly, she bolted for the door, clearly intending to escape.
âOh no, you donât.â
If she ran off now, sheâd draw attention. I couldnât afford to let people realize I was the one who had stolen Ropermangâs elf.
I pulled on the soul shackles.
Clink.
âUgh!â
Arpia froze in place, her body seizing up. She gritted her teeth and struggled, but it was no use.
Youâre not Mirabelâyouâre not getting away that easily.
âLetâs not waste energy this early in the morning. Come, have some breakfast.â
After a few more futile attempts, Arpia finally realized she couldnât escape. With a defeated sigh, she trudged over and sat next to me. Her lifeless gaze fell to the table.
Victor placed a plate in front of herâa simple breakfast of bread and a soft-fried egg. Despite her gloomy expression, Arpia still managed to complain.
âI donât eat eggsâ¦â
âElven lady, Iâm sixty years old this year. Shouldnât you be a bit more respectful?â
âIâm older than you.â
ââ¦Karamir, your slave is speaking rudely. Donât you think you should teach her a lesson?â
âI welcome slaves with strong personalities.â
Victor gave me a betrayed look.
What? Iâm always on my slavesâ side.
âCan you remove the egg? More vegetables, please.â
ââ¦Understood.â
With a sigh, Victor went to prepare a new meal for Arpia, who had already begun munching on the bread.
I rested my chin on my hand and watched her eat in silence. She didnât bother to look at me, focusing entirely on her food.
âWhat are you staring at?â she asked, still chewing.
âYouâre beautiful. Even when eating, you look like a work of art.â
âSpare me your flattery.â
âNo, I mean it. And last night, you admitted it yourselfâyou said you were really pretty.â
At that, Arpia whipped her head around, her braid flying like a whip.
âI-I said that?â
âOf course. You even cupped your hands under your chin and tried to act cute.â
It was half a lie, but she had no way of knowing that. Just one more push would make it perfect.
âYou also said, âIâm so happy to be your slave, master,â and clung to me. Donât tell me I was the only one who was being sincere?â
âI donât remember that! I would never say such a thing! See, I knew you were lying!â
âSuch a shame.â
Well, that didnât work.
But no worries, I could always raise her favorability gradually.
âCould you pass me some water?â I asked.
âYou have hands, donât you? Get it yourself.â
ââ¦.â
Wow. For a second, it felt like the world was crumbling.
No matter how you look at it, telling your master to get their own water is pretty bold. I let out a deep, heavy sigh.
âAh, Mirabel would always happily fetch me water when I asked.â
âMirabel? Whoâs that?â
âSheâs someone special. The cutest little witch in the world, whoâd make ice when it was hot, water when I was thirsty, and hold me close when it was cold.â
âWell, why donât you ask her to do it then? Where is she?â
âI sent her back to her mother. Iâm sure sheâs living happily up there, in a better place.â
Arpiaâs gaze turned icy, but I didnât care. What mattered more was my thirst.
âOh, how I miss Mirabel⦠She wouldâve brought me waterâ¦â
âWhy are you acting like this?â
âWaaater. Waaaateeeer.â
âFine! Iâll get you water! Just stop whining!â@@novelbin@@
Unable to resist my exaggerated sulking, Arpia filled a cup and handed it to me.
âHere. Happy now?â
âThis is so plain. Donât you have any magical water? Iâve heard that water summoned by spirits is supposed to be incredibly refreshing.â
âYouâve got to be kidding me. Do you think water spirits are just living wells? And⦠even if I wanted to, I couldnât summon one. I canât use spirits,â she muttered, her voice filled with uncertainty.
For an elf, being able to handle a bow and commune with spirits was as basic as breathing.
But Arpia couldnât do either. It wasnât that she lacked spirits to commune with.
âThe problem is that theyâre too deeply intertwined with her.â
Normally, a spirit would choose an elf it liked and bestow its powers upon them. But Arpia was different.
From birth, spirits had entered her body, becoming a part of her physical being.
These spirits clashed with one another inside her, and Arpia had to bear all the pain that resulted.
Drinking alcohol made the spirits drunk as well, dulling the pain. Thatâs why Arpia had become an alcoholic, spending most of her days in a state of intoxication.
She couldnât handle spirits. She couldnât handle a bow. A useless elf.
She was ostracized, friendless, and banished to the outskirts of the great forest. All she did was spend her days drunk and stumbling around.
Truly, a character with a tragic backstory.
Not a beautiful, capable older sister but a shut-in loser next door. Thatâs Arpia.
Still, hearing all this gave me a good idea of what needed to be fixed.
âAre you finished eating? Letâs go.â
âHuh? Why?â
âThereâs somewhere we need to be.â
Itâs time to turn this useless elf into someone who can function.