Consciousness creeps back, pulling me from the void. My eyes flutter open, revealing a hazy, indistinct world. Pain throbs through every fiber of my being, from the pounding ache in my head to the sharp protests of overworked muscles. It’s relentless, almost unbearable, but it’s also a reassuring reminder—I’m still alive.

“Master, you’re awake!” A familiar voice slices through the fog clouding my mind. Sophia.

I turn toward the sound, expecting to see her familiar face. But when my vision clears, my heart nearly stops.

“Who the hell are you?” I blurt out, staring in disbelief at the figure before me.

The woman smiles playfully. “Master! How can you forget your own slave so easily?”

“Hahhh!? Sophia?!”

Sophia giggles, her expression teasing as she winks at me. A shiver races down my spine.

This… this can’t be real!!!

Standing before me is not the Sophia I remember. No, not at all. This woman has a near-irresistible allure, her figure impossibly curvaceous, her features ethereal. Her fox ears twitch with each movement, and a luxuriously fluffy tail sways behind her. The human Sophia was undeniably stunning, but this version? She’s like something out of a fantasy dream—too surreal to believe.

“Yes! It’s me!” she chirps, her radiant smile lighting up the room. “Master, how do I look? Do you like it?”

I open my mouth to respond, but words fail me. “Ermm…”

Her grin widens mischievously. “I see. Then… how about this?”

With a twirl, she transforms yet again. Her already voluptuous figure becomes even more exaggerated. Her chest swells impossibly large, defying all logic!!!

BOING!!!

My brain short-circuits.

“Aaa! Good! GOOD!!!” I stammer.

Sophia smirks, clearly enjoying my reaction. “Oh? So… you like this?”

“Y-yeah…” I mutter, quickly averting my eyes to preserve what little dignity I have left.

As a man, I can’t deny it—boobs are my kryptonite.

Anyways, with this performance, the chameleon earrings have just become my favorite items from this world. They’ve turned Sophia into a walking fantasy.

But I push those thoughts aside. There are more pressing matters to address, like how I’m even alive after everything that happened.

“Alright, enough playing around,” I say, regaining a shred of composure. “Sophia, what happened? How did I survive?”

Sophia’s teasing demeanor softens as she takes a seat beside me. She recounts the events patiently, her voice steady and calm. After we defeated Bromrik, I’d suffered grave injuries—a knife wound to the neck and severe trauma to my head. There had been no time to waste. With sheer determination, Sophia carried me to safety and sought out the most skilled cleric she could find. Their combined efforts saved my life, though I was teetering on the edge of death.

“And now?” I ask.

“We’re safe for the time being,” she replies. “This is a small tavern deep within Vera. It’s discreet, and the owner is someone I trust.”

I nod, absorbing her words. My condition has stabilized, but it took three long days before I finally woke from my unconscious state.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“And where is Yumi now?” I inquire.

“Oh, it’s still early in the morning, so she’s sleeping in her room.”

A wave of relief washes over me. I was right to place my trust in Sophia. Not only had she saved my life, but she’d also ensured Yumi’s safety. More importantly, she hadn’t betrayed me, even when she had the perfect opportunity to do so.

“By the way, Sophia,” I begin, leaning back slightly. “I released you from the slave contract, so there’s no need to call me ‘master’ anymore.”

Her reaction is unexpected.

“Ah… about that,” she says hesitantly, her tone shifting. “Why did you do it in the first place? Setting me free?”

“Huh? I just didn’t want to drag you down with me, that’s all.”

The slave pact was clear-cut: if the master died, the slave would also perish. It was a grim bond, one I couldn’t bear to impose on anyone longer than absolutely necessary.

“But…” Sophia’s voice grows sharper, her words more pointed. “If you set me free, I could have betrayed you. I could have let you die, Jack. Worse, I could have captured Yumi and taken her back to the King in exchange for the restoration of my position. I’m not exactly a saint; you know that. I could have done it. You knew that! So why? Were you out of your mind?”

Her sudden outburst catches me off guard.

Huh?

What’s with this rant?

She’s free now, yet she doesn’t seem happy about it?

Women… sometimes they’re truly impossible to understand.

“But you didn’t,” I reply, meeting her gaze evenly. “So, Sophia, were you also out of your mind, just like me?”

For a moment, she stares at me, her expression unreadable. Then, with a resigned sigh, she responds, “Ah, yeah, I was an idiot.”

She pauses, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Anyway, you’ve already set me free, so there’s no way I’m ever being your slave again! Never!”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “And why would I even want to do that?”

The truth is, I’d only used the slave contract as a temporary measure—the fastest, safest way to get us out of the castle alive. But even if I hadn’t ended up nearly dying, I would have released her eventually. I detest the very concept of slavery. It’s not just about being a “nice Canadian” or holding onto modern ideals; it’s a matter of fundamental human rights. Slavery shouldn’t exist—anywhere, under any circumstances. Even if a master treated their slaves kindly, it could never compensate for the theft of their autonomy and freedom.

But something feels… off.

In the heat of battle, I was sure my injuries had been fatal. My brain had suffered severe trauma, and the moon elf’s final strike had undoubtedly severed an artery. By all logic, I should be dead. Recovery from such catastrophic wounds would be impossible even with Earth’s most advanced medical technology.

Yet here I am.

Could this world possess medical knowledge far beyond anything I’d imagined? Or was there another, more mysterious explanation behind my survival?

But as Sophia hands me a glass of water, something catches my attention.

As Sophia hands me a glass of water, something catches my attention.

“Hold on, Sophia. Where’s your ring?”

Her movements falter, and her gaze drops to her hands. Her fingers instinctively brush over the empty space where the ring once rested.

“Ah… about that…” she murmurs, hesitating.

A heavy silence blankets the room, thick and unyielding.

“It’s gone,” Sophia finally says, her voice tinged with a sorrow that cuts through the quiet.

“What?” The words escape me. I’m in disbelief. “Sophia, what do you mean, ‘gone’?”

That ring meant everything to her. I remember how crushed she looked when Curtis demanded it. Now it’s just… gone? The whole thing feels impossible to grasp.

“I… I used it on you,” she confesses, her words barely audible.

Her admission takes me aback.

“What? Used it on me? How? Explain that to me!”

Sophia takes a deep breath.

Slowly, she begins to recount the story behind the ring.

It had been a gift from her mother on her sixth birthday, a cherished treasure that held not just sentimental but mystical significance. The ruby wasn’t just a gemstone—it was infused with the tear of a Phoenix, a mythical creature whose essence granted unparalleled regenerative and resurrection powers. The ring’s magic could only be used once, its effects consumed entirely in a single act of salvation.

And that was why I survived.

There was no god-like cleric who had miraculously healed me. No advanced magic performed by an unseen savior.

It had all been the ring.

Sophia, in a moment of desperation, had sacrificed her most valued possession—a tangible, irreplaceable link to her mother—for my sake.

“Sophia…” My voice falters. “I… I’m so sorry…”

“Nah, it’s alright. It’s gone.”

She waves it off, but I can see the sadness lingering in her eyes.

But I’d rather not dwell on it. The ring is gone, there is no changing that now.

“I owe you big time on this, Sophia,” I say instead.

“No,” Sophia shakes her head. “I was in the wrong first. I tried to harm you and Yumi. You can just consider this the punishment for all of my crimes.”

“Well, if you say so…” I trail off. “Anyway, since we are not in that kind of relationship anymore, how about we drop the formalities? To be honest, I don’t really like being called ‘master.’ So, just call me Jack.”

“Yes,” Sophia says with a small smile. “I’m very glad to meet you, Jack.”

“Same here. Nice to meet you, Sophia,” I say.

Her smile just now makes the world around us glow with a gentle light.

And for reasons I can’t quite explain, my heart suddenly aches.