Make Dark Fantasy Great Again
Chapter 68: Dark Elf Slaves

: Fr showing their tragic backstory makes it even worse

: backstory? o...

-[OP] : I could kill shits like the guy above me with zero guilt. Ayo you be the boss instead

: Fr, what’s even the point of clearing fate quests if everything’s already gone to shit

: But like, how do you even get a happy ending in this game? Full-clearing fate quests?

: those lock you into routes so you can’t even 100% it.

: I mean hypothetically mkay

: If we assume they’re adding a past DLC or something

you’d probably have to cram all the fate quests into one route and clear them all.

-[OP] : oh like keeping death knights and progenitors on a leash before they go off the deep end?

: ya

: Not a bad idea?

: but if you shove all those fate quests into one route, fck me lol

: ah fuck lmaooo

: Fate quests be popping up like random event quests fr

: So basically, to get a happy ending in this game

PERSUADE THE DARK ELF LEASH THE PROGENITOR CONVINCE THE TREE THUMPER BITCH TO GO BACK TO THE WORLD TREE TALK DOWN THE HALF-ELEMENTAL WITH BIO-PHOBIA...

TAKE OUT THE NECROMANCER CURE THE ASSASSIN MASTER’S DISEASE AND SEND HER BACK TO THE GUILD STOP THE DARK ELF NOBLE FROM GOING APESHIT UP NORTH THEN THE WORLD TREE...

: is bro typing mid-exhale? why do I feel out of breath just reading this?

: idk y I can smell his breath thru the screen yo...

[OP] : even if they added a true route for a happy ending, the difficulty would be so cracked no one could clear it fr

***In the basement of a Bondalles manor, a dark-skinned girl and a woman in white faced each other.

A dark elf and a human. Mistress and slave.

“Mistress...I have something to report...”

The slave’s voice trembled like her naked body. Kneeling, prostrating, her back a blank canvas.

Crimson scars marred that canvas—the brand of a slave. As long as those scars remained, she could not disobey.

Splash!

Cold water cascaded over her pathetic form. Her body, pressed against the cold stone floor, almost flinched. But she barely managed to suppress the reflex.

Any lapse in posture would invite a punishment far worse than icy water in a frigid basement. All she could do was let her body tremble, her breath hitch.

Even suppressing that would displease her mistress.

“Cold?”

Sure enough, the master’s voice dripped with amusement, clearly enjoying the slave’s misery.

“Yes, ma’am...f-freezing...”

“Is that so? What should I do about that?”

The master lifted a silver goblet. It filled with water, which quickly began to steam, boiling and bubbling.

Peeking at the sight, the slave gulped in terror.

“P-please...allow me to finish...It’s something you might...find interesting, Master...”

“Hmm...really now? Go on, then.”

The master swirled the goblet like a wine glass.

“The-the m-meeting...w-with him...it’s been arranged...”

“The man called Risir?”

“Y-yes...”

“You’re certain? That with his help, we can recover that wretched, cursed slave?”

“...”

That wretched, cursed slave. A term for dark elf slaves.

Tears welled in the slave’s eyes.

“I-it’s not certain...but according to the stories, we can very likely expect his help...”

“What kind of help?”

“...Pardon?”

“Say it. What help can we get?”

“...”

The slave hesitated.

Splash.

The master flung the scalding water—not directly at her, but beside her. Only a few drops touched her skin, but the slave gritted her teeth against the pain.

She knew this wasn’t mercy. It was a final warning.

If she displeased her master again?

The next time, the boiling water would be ruthlessly poured on her.

The slave ultimately had no choice but to obey.

“Er...we might be able to get help retrieving those wretched, cursed slaves...”

She forced the words out, eyes squeezed shut from the fear.

The master smiled, a disturbing expression that blended amusement, contempt, and fury.

“If the merchandise is damaged in any way, you will pay the full price. You are aware?”

If a slave’s arm was broken, hers would be broken too. If a slave’s toe rotted, hers would rot as well. And if a slave died...

“Y-yes...I understand...”

The terrified slave barely managed a whimpered answer.

The master called out to someone.

“Kieran?”

The basement door creaked open, followed by stealthy footsteps—so quiet they would go unnoticed without careful attention.

A young dark elf, one eye covered by an eyepatch, had entered the room. He handed the master a set of clothes and turned away.

The master undressed without hesitation, revealing smooth, unblemished, black skin. Then, she put on her new clothes for an outing.

Though, calling them clothes was charitable. They were tattered, foul-smelling rags.

“Here. You should get dressed as well.”

The master tossed a bundle of clothing at the naked slave.

Scrambling out of her prostrate position, the slave hurriedly dressed. Then, she adorned herself with elaborate jewelry.

The dark elf who claimed the role of master wore rags, while the human slave was adorned in lavish finery. A strange contrast, shaped by their warped relationship.

The dark elf addressed the human.

“Ready, Reisha?”

***Reisha was a Bondalles-based merchant specializing in slaves. Recently, she’d had a stroke of luck, acquiring a dark elf.

Dark elves were objects of fear and contempt, but enslavement changed that.

A superstition held that dark elf slaves absorbed their master’s misfortunes. Combined with their resemblance to the high elves, they became highly sought after.

Their filthy skin tone wasn’t a problem. The underworld offered various concoctions for the depraved, including drugs that could temporarily lighten a dark elf’s skin to mimic that of a high elf.

Trading elven slaves would immediately draw the attention of the Grand Forest. But dark elves?

Dark elf slaves served as fantastic outlets for the twisted minority who both envied and craved elves. They were an extraordinary rarity and a luxury.

Reisha had secured the dark elf in a back-alley warehouse, intending to sell her at the upcoming black market slave auction.

She had considered herself fortunate...until an elf confronted her.

-I hear you have a dark elf slave.

-Hehe. Why, interested? Just wait. The auction will begin soon.

-How about you tell me more.

-...A d-dark elf...!

She enslaved Reisha. Yet in public, she posed as Reisha’s slave, manipulating her from the shadows.

Everything was for one purpose: to recover her lost sibling from a human city that despised dark elves.

***Dark Elf Katria couldn’t understand. How had her younger sibling, who had vanished without a trace, ended up in this distant human city?

And who was the informant that had led her to this truth?

The questions had consumed her at first. But now, they didn’t matter.

In truth, Katria had been looking forward to this journey quite a bit. It was her first time away from home. Her first time leaving the dark elf lands and experiencing the outside world.

What wonders awaited her? What had become of her sibling?

It didn’t take long for her anticipation to curdle into worry, then disgust.

-A dark elf in fine clothes? Heh, where’d you steal those?

-A d-dark elf?! Get out!! Get out of my shop right now! You’ll bring a curse!

Discrimination and hatred. That was the newness she encountered.

She finally understood the elders’ concerns when she’d announced her departure. She understood why they’d assigned their finest knight to escort her.

The naïve young lady grew increasingly steeped in bitterness. But at the end of her journey, she’d received a crucial piece of information: a dark elf ‘specimen’ had been sold in the black market by a slave trader named Reisha.

Katria made a vow then—to rescue her sibling from this loathsome human city. And the day it was all over, she would repay the hatred they had endured.

“Lead the way.”

Two dark elf slaves followed the merchant. They were headed to a meeting with a mage from the Gray Tower.

***The trading company leaders had rented out a tavern near the Gray Tower for the meeting.

The moment Katria’s group entered...

“Is that...?”

“A dark elf—”

Perhaps because the mages hadn’t arrived yet, the tavern’s occupants turned their scattered attention to Katria and her companions.

The merchants reacted with varying degrees of curiosity, contempt, and unease.

One of them challenged Reisha.

“What possessed you to bring dark elves here, Reisha?”

“...”

Katria clenched her jaw.

Speaking of us as if we’re some filth...

How could humans be so vile? With every encounter, all she gained were bitter experiences, fresh wounds, and a growing loathing for their kind.

Reisha forced a smile, glancing nervously at Katria.

“I have my reasons. Please understand.”

The merchants remained unconvinced.

Still, there was at least one small relief.

“Ah.”

“Is that him?”

“That’s the Deputy Tower Lord, and beside her—”

The mages from the Gray Tower arrived, diverting the attention.

“Let’s proceed in an orderly fashion.”

All of them were busy people.

The Deputy Tower Lord and the honorary mage, named Risir, immediately entered the private room.

One by one, the merchants took their turns inside, each emerging moments later with a look of satisfaction.

Then at last, it was Katria’s group’s turn.

“Please, sit.”

Following Risir’s inviting gesture, Reisha sat opposite him, flanked by the two dark elves.

“...”

For an instant, Risir’s expression flickered with distaste as his gaze swept over the dark elves.

Why, are you disgusted by our mere presence?

Katria scoffed internally. She’d briefly hoped that a mage with such a reputation might be different. But no...he was just one more of those animals.

She shot Reisha a subtle glance. Taking the cue, Reisha assumed her practiced expression and began delivering her rehearsed lines.

“First, I apologize for the presence of these filthy dark elves. I have my reasons, so please—”

Despite Reisha’s apologetic tone, Risir’s frown remained.

“Filthy dark elves...”

He mulled over the words with a serious expression, his gaze sweeping over the two dark elves once more.

A brief stretch of silence followed.

“...Let’s get straight to the point.”

Risir spoke abruptly, as if eager to put an end to this conversation as soon as possible.

Katria’s dislike for him only intensified. She was certain his displeasure was directed at them.

“...Then, all communication ceased. They vanished, along with my slave. I want that slave back. Will you please help me?”

Risir regarded her with a cryptic expression.

“...Is the slave that important?”

How was she supposed to take that? If he meant, “Why go to such lengths for a mere dark elf?”—then it was probably an accurate interpretation.

To persuade him, Reisha spoke from a merchant’s standpoint, appealing to his common prejudices. She detailed, in rather explicit terms, the value a detestable dark elf held as a slave.

It was hardly an appropriate conversation to have in front of the dark elves who controlled her fate. But she had no choice. Who knew what failure would bring upon her?

As Reisha was explaining the typical uses of dark elf slaves, Risir abruptly cut her off, his discomfort plainly visible.

“I understand. I believe that’s enough.”

He conferred briefly with the Deputy Tower Lord, then turned back to Reisha.

“I will help you recover your slave. In exchange, may I state one condition?”

“Oh, if it concerns sponsorship then please don’t—”

“It’s not about that.”

“I’m sorry?”

“If possible...”

The honorary mage’s gaze settled on Katria.

“I would like to...purchase your dark elf slaves. Including the lady and gentleman here.”

“...!”

Out of instinct, Katria crossed her arms defensively.

This bastard...!

Moments ago, he’d regarded them with disgust(?). Now, immediately after learning their typical uses, he wanted to buy them?

The blatant, repulsive intent made Katria nauseous. Of all the humans she’d met, this man called Risir was undoubtedly the vilest.

***I looked at the two dark elves, wondering what Master would have done in my shoes.

In any case, I decided to save them. Ignoring the matter simply wasn’t an option, not with Master on my mind.

***

■ Katria

Level: 41

Race: Dark Elf

***

■ Kieran

Level: 61

Race: Dark Elf

***