“……?”
Sarah rubbed her eyes and turned her gaze toward the newcomers.
Their faces were so utterly ordinary that she would forget them in an instant, yet each possessed a peculiar feature unlike anything she had ever seen.
What… is that?
A small, jet-black lump sat on each man's shoulder. The round, squishy-looking lumps wriggled as though alive, then suddenly opened their eyes and stared straight at her.
Despite their unremarkable appearance, there was something strangely ominous about them.
“What are you doing here? We're pretty much done with the other areas.”
One of the men got straight to the point, apparently unconcerned by the black lump on his shoulder. Enoch, equally indifferent to it, answered without taking his eyes off Sarah.
“The leader?”
“We caught him trying to escape and dragged him back.”
“The goods?”
“If you mean the stones they stole, we found them. Cunning bastards. They even had couriers lined up to sell everything off tonight!”
“Good. As long as you found them.”
From their brief exchange, Sarah gathered that they had raided the slave traders' tents to recover some stolen goods.
“Did you see? There are at least five more tents like this. Ugh, those Sarah Rosenbaum-like bastards. Don't they have anything better to do…?”
One of the men spat on the ground and clicked his tongue in disgust. His words, intended as nothing more than an insult, had once again included her name.
“Exactly.”
Enoch gave a perfunctory nod. The name must have been more familiar to him than to anyone else, yet he didn't so much as blink, as though he had heard such remarks countless times before.
“You didn't see the fellow we caught outside, did you? Even with a blade about to slice through his neck, he wouldn't let go of the cage key. Damn, he was stubborn.”
“He was the most Sarah Rosenbaum-like bastard of the lot.”
“Don't even say that. When I called him that, he started crying and begged me to curse his parents instead.”
The men continued chattering enthusiastically, seemingly eager to talk to Enoch.
“……”
As their conversation went on, Sarah's expression grew increasingly strange.
Unless the language had changed drastically over the past three hundred years, it appeared that her precious name had somehow become a common expression.
An insult of the highest order, apparently worse than cursing someone's parents.
Faced with this utterly unexpected development, Sarah rubbed her face, her feelings in turmoil.
Had I really… done something so terrible?
Throughout her three hundred years in hell, she had steadfastly maintained that she had committed no sins deserving such punishment. Yet now, confronted with reality, even that unshakable conviction was beginning to crumble.
“Captain, are you listening? What are you staring at so intently—eek! An immune!”
Noticing Enoch's lack of attention, one of the men followed his gaze and gasped in shock.
His reaction, as though he had seen something forbidden, was the exact opposite of the slave traders' excitement. Sarah frowned in confusion.
“Is it because of that incident? But still, where did an immune suddenly come from…? Do you two know each other?”
Sarah had done nothing more than frown, yet the man edged behind Enoch and nervously tapped his shoulder.
Enoch answered almost immediately.
“No.”
A woman he didn't know.
Having made it perfectly clear that he had no connection to her, Enoch swept his lowered sword diagonally through the air in a single swift motion.
“……?!”
The iron bars, severed by his sword, collapsed with a resounding clang.
Fortunately, Sarah ducked instinctively just in time. Had she reacted a moment later, her head would have been cut off along with the bars.
Gulp.
Sarah swallowed hard at her narrow escape. She had already experienced death once, but the chilling prospect of facing it again was no less terrifying.
Rather than getting angry at his sudden swing of the sword, she quickly softened her defiant gaze.
She had been lucky this time, but there was no guarantee her luck would hold. Even when she had been a powerful black mage, she would have struggled to defend herself against swordsmanship so swift and silent.
With no means of resisting, she decided it would be best to keep her head down for now.
“What the hell? At least warn us before swinging that thing! You scared the crap out of me…!”
Ironically, Sarah, whose head had nearly been severed, remained silent, while one of the men who had merely been standing nearby made a fuss over being startled.
At last, Enoch sheathed his sword and spoke in a cheerful, almost singsong voice.
“I already told you, but apparently you didn't understand.”
“……?”
His subordinates seemed baffled by the remark, but unfortunately, Sarah had a fairly good idea of what he meant.
Enoch casually brushed off his clothes and crooked a finger at her.
“Come here.”
He might as well have been calling a pet cat.
“Ah, ah, y-yes…”
Having been summoned so directly, Sarah awkwardly rose to her feet and tried to step over the fallen bars.
Clink, clank.
With every movement, the shackles around her wrists and ankles rattled loudly.
The weight dragging at her limbs left her sweating profusely, and she barely managed to extend one foot beyond the cage.
Damn it, I really don't want to step in blood…
She hesitated, her foot suspended in midair as she searched for somewhere clean to put it.
One might wonder whether she was in any position to be particular, but Sarah absolutely detested blood. She almost felt that remaining in the cage forever would be preferable to stepping in it.
“You really are fussy.”
That, however, was only Sarah's perspective.
With an irritated sigh, Enoch strode over and, without another word, hoisted her onto his shoulder.
“Ugh…!”
The world abruptly turned upside down. Sarah let out a muffled groan and struggled, but no one paid her the slightest attention.
With Sarah slung over his shoulder, Enoch turned toward the tent entrance.
One of the men leaned out from behind him and called after him.
“Hey, you're just leaving? What about the merchants?”
He was asking what they should do with the captured illegal slave traders.
Without even looking back, Enoch answered lightly.
“Kill them.”
At his indifferent verdict, Sarah instantly stopped squirming.
She knew the order wasn't directed at her, yet somehow it sounded like a warning meant for her as well.
“You catch on quickly.”
When Sarah ceased struggling, Enoch smirked, seemingly impressed.
Then he muttered something about luck. There was a hint of laughter in his voice, pleasant to the ear yet chilling enough to send a shiver down Sarah's spine.
Still carrying her over his shoulder, he made his way effortlessly along the dark forest path until they reached a carriage, where he finally set her down.
Back on solid ground, Sarah put on a grateful expression and bowed repeatedly.
“Thank you for saving me.”
“……”
Enoch gave no reply.
Nor did he tell her what to do. He merely watched her with that same unsettling smile, as though there were nothing he might do that would be out of the ordinary.
Does that mean I'm free to go?
“I'll never forget your kindness. Then, if you'll excuse me, I'll just… be on my way…”
Slowly straightening her back, Sarah cautiously began sidestepping away, keeping a close eye on him.
“I didn't say you could leave.”
“My apologies. I thought it was time for us to bid each other a graceful farewell…”
She had barely taken three steps before his words sent her hurrying back to her original position.
Her wary gaze remained fixed on his sword, ready to flee the moment he reached for it.
“You're grateful that I saved you, aren't you?”
The question, whose answer was all too obvious, weighed heavily on Sarah.
“Yes, of course.”
Sarah nodded hastily and stole a glance at Enoch's face.
The instant their eyes met, Enoch broke into a broad smile, as though he had been waiting for precisely that moment.
It was the first time he had smiled so brightly, his eyes crinkling with delight.
“……”
Ah, this is the Enoch I know.
The kindness in his gaze, unchanged from the past, reassured her that he was still the Enoch Soser she remembered.
And Sarah felt relieved.
If Enoch Soser was still the same man he had been before, surely he wouldn't harm a pitiful slave he had just rescued.
While Sarah was momentarily distracted by his smile, Enoch closed the distance between them in a single step and seized her shoulders.
“Then repay me.”
If she was truly grateful, she ought to repay him.
At that moment, Enoch's smile twisted, revealing his true colors.
He grinned broadly enough to bare his teeth and whispered so softly that only Sarah could hear.
“With your body.”
“Ugh!”
Before Sarah could even comprehend the devastating implications of his words, he shoved her through the open carriage door.
By the time she managed to sit up inside, having been thrown in like a sack of luggage, the door had already been locked from the outside.
“Excuse me?!”
Sarah scrambled toward the door through which she had been shoved and began pounding on the window in protest.
“Move out. Take her to the guild.”
As though on cue, Enoch knocked on the carriage roof, drowning out her cries.
“Who is this woman?”
Having received the order to depart, the coachman asked curiously about Sarah's identity.
Enoch's voice came clearly through the closed door.
“My slave.”
“……?!”
At that outrageous declaration, Sarah opened and closed her mouth in disbelief, unable to get a word out.
She looked desperately toward the coachman's seat, hoping he would say something like, What slave? You can't do that.
“Ah, I see~.”
Instead, the coachman merely nodded as though he understood perfectly.
“Off we go~.”
He cracked his whip vigorously, urging the horses forward.
“Wait, wait, waaaait…!”
As the carriage began to move, Sarah stared at Enoch with wide eyes.
He waved to her kindly, as though bidding farewell to a dear friend setting off on a long journey.
The carriage rattled along the forest path, cutting through the darkness.
And inside it was Sarah, who had unwittingly become Enoch's slave…