*** Cold Iron District - Third Person POV
"Keep them?"
Evelina looked behind her at the hundreds of freed slaves who had turned a small part of the district into what was effectively a fortress.
What had once been a maze of leaning shacks and rotting tenents now bristled with improvised defenses.
Broken wagon wheels, scrap tal, and shattered furniture ford barricades that turned the alleys into death traps, while side streets funneled into kill zones. From the roofs, archers, mages, and scouts in mismatched armor kept watch.
Laundry lines still crisscrossed the air, now strung with bells and glass that turned clutter into a DIY alarm system. Rusted slave chains had been repurposed into tripwires and anchors for the barricades.
Makeshift watchtowers rose above the roofs, manned by elves, dwarves, and beastfolk. The stink of smoke, sweat, rust, and old blood remained—but beneath it lay sothing new.
Order.
They weren’t just a mob. Forr gladiators moved with a predator’s ease, dwarven slaves handled stone and scrap like craftsn, and beastfolk scouts slipped through shadow as if born to it.
So still flinched at sharp sounds, others glared at anything that even resembled a slaver, but all of them shared the sa look in their eyes:
They had chosen this place, and they had chosen to fight.
A silver-haired elf calmly directed the archers. A scarred human woman drilled a shaky spear line until their grips stopped trembling. A laughing dwarf showed a trio of beastfolk how to brace a broken cart so it wouldn’t collapse on impact. No uniforms, no ranks—just habits of discipline slowly resurfacing.
Logically, it made sense.
Most slaves in the Cold Iron District weren’t useless—those didn’t sell well anyway. In fact, most were quite powerful, their strength intact but their spirits broken after years of suffering. Now that they had hope again, that buried strength was pouring back to the surface.
Cael’s original rescue had snowballed until it completely shattered the Cold Iron District’s slave trade.
This was the reason Evelina had been sent here in the first place. Her father wanted her to find out what was delaying their supply of new recruits for the D’Arclights. At first, it had been worriso, but now that Evelina knew the cause...
It was actually incredible.
The love of her life, of all people, had managed to gather a willing army of powerful slaves—though so were definitely rough around the edges...
Nothing like classic D’Arclight training to get them back into shape.
"I guess that could work..."
[Great! But before you hang up...]
"You want to ask why I won’t let you leave?"
[Yeah...]
"That’s a secret. Just be patient for now."
BEEP!
*** D’Arclight Estate - Cael’s POV
I sighed and set the transceiver back on the bench, stretching my arms in disappointnt.
"A secret, huh?"
My mind ran through a dozen reasons she might want to stay. Was it because of the Fiona ss? Because she wanted safe? Or was it sothing else entirely?
Given how she reacted when I first picked up her call, it definitely wasn’t the first two.
Well... I can wait. For now, I just hope she enjoys the unintended army I’ve handed her. I only wonder how useful they’ll actually be though...
Since I’ve lost access to profaned magic, I can’t even peer through the [Endless Fangs] I gave the original three to check on them.
Patience is the only thing I can really practice now...
***
I wandered through the halls, looking for anything else to do. My body still needed ti to recover. And while [Dark Recovery] would work just as well as always, I wasn’t in the sa kind of rush as before.
I had all the ti in the world now. Better to let my body heal on its own while letting [Dark Recovery] give it a small nudge.
"Hm?"
I spotted a drawer in Evelina’s room left slightly open, a faint trace of demonic energy seeping from within and pulling toward it.
She was far too competent to accidentally leave sothing like that lying around.
It had to be deliberate.
I slid the drawer open and found a small letter inside.
Found this letter, have you? Well, good, that ans you’re doing just as planned. I suggest you continue exploring the estate even more while I’m gone.
"Seriously?"
I laughed. Did she really set up an entire treasure hunt before leaving for the Cold Iron District? And how did she even manage to plan all this without noticing?
Well... not my problem. She spent all that ti preparing it for , and I’m definitely going to see it through.
"Guess that’s my first clue..."
I flipped the letter over. One word was written on the back: Wardrobe.
So, obviously, I checked the wardrobe.
"Huh?"
The first thing that greeted was a collar. An actual slave collar. A note lay just beneath it.
Like before, I picked it up and read:
Surprised? Well, don’t be. I just realized I haven’t given you any orders lately, and I’m afraid you might grow a bit too dominant because of that. So here’s a string of random tasks for you to follow while I’m gone, to train your command-obeying skills, m’kay~?
And just in case you didn’t realize, I want you to wear it.
For a mont, I just stared at the collar.
"...Oh."
It was simple. Dark tal, smooth and well-made, nothing like the ugly iron restraints slavers slapped on people in the Cold Iron District. This one looked almost elegant—polished, fitted, clearly made for comfort.
Which sohow made it worse.
Or better.
Depends on how you looked at it.
I picked it up, turning it slowly in my fingers.
"A collar..."
A laugh slipped out of before I could stop it.
"She really went there."
Of course she did.
Evelina had been complaining that I wasn’t nearly submissive enough lately. So if she went as far as setting up an entire treasure hunt around the estate about it, leaving sothing like this behind was practically inevitable.
My thumb brushed along the inner curve of the tal.
Cold.
Plain.
No enchantnts, no runes, no hidden chanisms. Just a collar.
A normal, mundane collar.
Which ant the aning behind it was entirely intentional.
I looked back at the note again.
And just in case you didn’t realize, I want you to wear it.
"...Well, I guess I did fantasize about this once."
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