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Dungeon Accident
Chapter 8: Slave In the Inn

Chapter 8: Slave In the Inn

Please reread chapter 7, I added the contract part there instead of here.

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Chapter 8:

The second we return to the inn, Cherche’s family of four flocks all over us, so I begin to explain how Fia will be living with me from now on. I tripled the payment for her room, since I thought they would disagree. But Cherche hands me the key while shaking her index finger, saying there’s no need for the extra cash.

I look at Fia then back to Cherche. “Can Fia use the bath?”

“Sure. I’ll take her there.” With those reassuring words, she drags my slave to their pride bath.

While I wait for my unresponsive slave to finish, I find a table for us to sit in the bar. Murmurs after murmurs about the recent incident floats past my left ear. Curious to hear any news regarding the labyrinth, I take the table behind the small group of explorers. But the old man blockades my view, as he sits in front of me, placing a hand on the table.

“Still can’t believe you bought a slave, Mister. And a Demi-human at that,” he says.

Oh, forget it. He’s here, so I might as well ask him a few questions. “Ironically, I don’t even know a single thing about slaves. Though from what I’ve heard from the slave merchant, she’s part of the silver wolf clan. Do you happen to know anything about them?”

“Hmm…” He crosses his arms. “Mister, this is something I overheard from a pair of travelers once: that those who belong to the dog family are somewhat shy towards others outside of their race. But their canine ancestry infuses them with tremendous vitality and agility, so I can assure you that you’ve gotten a good deal. Then again, I don’t have an idea how much you’ve spent, so you can take those words with a grain of salt.”

“I see…” I murmur. That explains Fia’s reaction towards me, and her enigma grows. Sasha suddenly brushes in and occupies a chair with her father, distracting me from overthinking. So I continue, “How bad is our relationship with the Demi-humans?”

His brow creases at my question. “Bad, but you don’t need to concern yourself about it. Freyrun is part of the trade city alliance after all. The war can’t touch us.”

So the relationship is so bad that they resorted to war, eh? “How can you be so sure?”

“Well… The two nations have been on a stalemate for so long.” The old man uncrosses his arms and starts to stroke his daughter’s head instead. “And rumors imply that we’ll have a real peace sometime soon. But rumors are rumors, so there’s no guaranteeing, yet.”

I rub the blue markings on my left hand before replying, “Makes sense.”

Still, it’s hard to understand someone when you don’t have an idea of what they’re talking about, but as along as I can guarantee my safety, then I have nothing to worry about the war indeed.

Since there’s no signs of Fia finishing anytime soon, I ask the old man to accompany me for a short drink, to which he complies without a single argument. I’m paying after all. He’s like a barber. He knows a lot of stories from running the inn in his forty four years of life. Quite the casual old man. But when Sasha attempted to join us, he sent her away to wash the dishes.

As the old man continues his story, Cherche comes back with Fia in tow. She’s still wearing my gray robe, but I can see the mini skirt and blouse that Cherche probably made her wear inside. That fixes most of my concern about her. Not to mention, she’s even wearing a pair of brown sandals. Nice. I give Cherche a thumbs up. Fia sits beside me while Cherche goes back to the bar to fetch our dinner. The old man bids me farewell and returns to his post. In less than two minutes, Cherche returns to our table with our bowls of soup.

“Let’s eat up,” I say to Fia who’s staring at her bowl. She looks back at me, bright eyed and bushy tailed, then proceeds to devour her bowl of hot soup.

I grab my wooden spoon and taste my portion. The meat melts in my mouth like a tender beef and the soup has that creamy aftertaste. As for the vegetables… I don’t care much about them.

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After that satisfying dinner, we head upstairs to Fia’s room. Making sure the door behind me is lock, I instruct Fia to sit on her bed. I maximize the skill [Observe] and use it on her.

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Name: Fia

Race: Demi-human

Master: Dude

Level: 7

Skills: [Kill Switch], [Bloody Claw]

Magic: None

My goodness, those are some menacing skills she’s hiding there. There’s three stars under a skill, so there’s three levels. Does this mean that the one from the slave merchant before is of a lower tier? It’s understandable if it is then.

I sit beside Fia, and the bed shifts to accommodate my weight. She smells female. Not just the fresh scent of the bath, or the flowers and herbs she used for her hair, but the underlying scent mature women often carry with them. Is this Cherche’s handiwork?

“Can you speak?” I ask.

She nods without speaking, creating an awkward silence.

“Then why aren’t you speaking?” I bury my face on my palm.

“It’s because my previous owner ordered me not to speak,” she mutters like a dead machine. So bad habits are hard to break, huh? I’m glad she spoke a single sentence, but I’ll need her to cooperate more than that if I want us to get into process how things will work from now on.

“Then I want you to forget that order and express yourself more openly from now on, okay?”

“Yes, master.”

Now that’s a start.

I give her a wry smile. “My name’s Dude. Starting tomorrow we’ll be heading to the labyrinth together.”

“The labyrinth?”

“Yes, it’s one dangerous place. So before we do that, we’ll have to gear ourselves first.” With her listed skills, I don’t think it’s a question if she can fight or not. But that’s not what I’m distressed about. I need to know if she could use magic in the future or not. “Do you have any clue how magic works?”

As I stare and wait for an answer, an attractive blush spreads across her face. “Either you recite the spell’s incantation or have the spell directly engraved on your magic lines, master.”

Reciting a spell sounds troublesome. I don’t think I want to spend my free time memorizing. “What about these magic lines?”

“Apologies, master. While I do know how it works, I don’t know the principles of magic myself.”

“Where can we have a spell engraved then? Is there a place in the city that does that?”

“Yes, but I heard a single engravement could cost a fortune.”

Easy peasy, we have money, baby. “Good. We’ll do that first thing in the morning.” I slap my thighs and stand up. “Go take a rest for now. You deserve it.” I walk towards the door, twisting the knob, but before I open it, I turn around to ask her another question. “Any personal aspiration that you want to achieve someday?”

She stares at me, her blue eyes reminds me of the ocean in the bay area — my hometown. Maybe she’s seeing through my soul, to who I really am, and the way she stares gives me the feeling that she’s a lot smarter than what she appears. I chuckle inside. Aren’t most women like that? Strong, smart, cunning, and will leave you without a second thought.

“If this slave can dream, master, then I want to return to Paltina.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Paltina?”

She leans her arms back and looks at the ceiling, like she’s trying to prevent some tears to fall. “Yes, it’s my home country.”

A time of silence ensues. Perhaps she’s waiting for me to say something comforting. Perhaps not. I don’t know what to say. When another minute ticks by and I remain silent, she apologizes.

“Well, if that’s all, good night.” I open the door and step out with a smile.

“Good night, master.” I see Fia hug her pillow before the door creaks back.

Instead of going to my room, I walk towards the open balcony of the inn’s second floor. Seeing that the moon has just risen, I’m lucky that nobody is around. I light a stick and puff a smoke, gazing at the once lively streets of the city.

It’s funny how similar we are. I know from experience that it’s not confusing to deal with a broken heart, but the time and dedication one have to spend to mend it is a different thing. I have no desire to hurt her, nor do I want to involved myself in her problems. I just want to find a way back home. Simple as that.

I sigh, thinking that tomorrow will be another busy day.