“Yes.”
Shadow Spider nodded without any hesitation, her eyes vacant as she agreed. She quickly undressed, fully exposing her small and pure body before Arthur.
“Whip.”
Arthur didn’t even bother to glance at Shadow Spider. There was nothing appealing about a body still undeveloped. Closing his eyes as if to nap, he impatiently ordered.
The little girl kneeling beside Shadow Spider immediately got to work. She ran into a room somewhere inside the castle and reappeared in the hall holding a long whip with barbs.
The little girl respectfully nodded to Arthur, then walked behind Shadow Spider, coiling the barb-less end of the whip around her hand.
She gazed at Shadow Spider’s back, which was covered in scars and wounds; no skin remained intact. Purple and red bruises spread everywhere — the result of strict training.
Because she was Father’s adopted daughter, Shadow Spider had been spared this cruel training process. The little girl sincerely felt lucky for that.
Next, she raised the whip high and struck down hard, again and again. The barbs scraped off Shadow Spider’s skin, leaving fresh bloody marks atop old wounds. Shadow Spider stifled her cries of pain, tears welling in her eyes as she endured the punishment.
She understood that this was already her master’s mercy. The executioner was his adopted daughter—an eight-year-old girl. How much strength could she possibly have? Because of this, the pain Shadow Spider suffered was greatly reduced.
After the little girl finished one hundred lashes and stopped, Shadow Spider collapsed weakly to her knees, using her hands to support herself so she wouldn’t fall flat. Her face was drenched in sweat, her small mouth gasping sharply. The fiery pain in her back blurred her consciousness.
“Th-tha… thank you for the… hospitality.”
Shadow Spider bowed her head to the ground, speaking with great difficulty. This was the required phrase—each time a punishment ended, if she didn’t say these words and passed out instead, the master would be displeased.
If the master was displeased, there would be more punishment. Shadow Spider knew this well.
“Ah, received. Get up, go to your room and sleep, my slave. And whenever you’re needed, before you die for me, you must always maintain your usefulness.”
Arthur narrowed his eyes, his tone calm as he spoke.
“If you act on your own and cause trouble beyond orders, you will only be disposed of. Now go.”
At this moment, Shadow Spider was supposed to bow her thanks and leave.
“……”
She remained in her standard bowing posture.
Arthur frowned and sneered coldly, “No response? Very well, quite bold indeed. It seems the kingdom’s training needs to be stricter, to avoid producing slave girls like you again, hm hm hm hm.”
“……”
Arthur’s smile grew colder. “Such audacity! This slave of mine is really too…”
“Father, she’s already passed out.”
The little girl stepped forward to where Shadow Spider kept her head bowed, lifted her head, and showed Arthur her face, clearly unconscious.
“When did this happen?” Arthur sat up straight, his expression slightly unnatural.
“Right after Shadow Spider said ‘Thank you for the hospitality,’ at that moment, she fainted,” the little girl tilted her head and answered honestly.
“Is that so… so I embarrassed myself.” Arthur gave the little girl a displeased look.
Under Arthur’s cold gaze, the little girl instinctively took a step or two back, her mind filling with thoughts of escape. But in the end, she obediently stood her ground, lowering her head in fear and waiting for her own punishment.
“Hold out your hand.”
As expected, she heard Father’s command.
She was a special slave girl. Because she was Father’s daughter—though adopted—Father did not allow anyone else to punish her. All punishments had to be carried out by him personally.
In the dead of night, the castle echoed with the girl’s cries of sorrow. This was the slave transport ship of Amidale, a place of nothing but despair—the despair of slaves without a shred of salvation.
When news of the escaped slave Baiya Ifiel Chlorom’s death was deliberately spread among the nobles to all the slaves imprisoned in the dungeons, it was a clear warning that escape led only to death and that it was better to stay obedient.
The slaves understood—no matter how hard they struggled, they could not escape their cruel fate.
“Big sister…” A girl hugged her knees in the corner of a stone room, silently weeping.
*****
The Divine Realm [Eltia]
“Failed, Fia. My life has failed again, and this time it ended far too early. In the end, no one can be saved. This fate… though I was prepared for it… it’s enough.”
The white-haired girl sitting on the throne smiled bitterly. Her face was identical to Baiya Ifiel Chlorom’s, but compared to the fourteen-year-old Baiya, she looked taller and more mature.
She was the original Baiya Ifiel Chlorom herself.
“Failed…”
Opposite the throne, a golden-haired twelve-winged loli put her index finger to her lips and murmured thoughtfully.
She was Fia, the self-proclaimed Creator God of all realms, and the one responsible for sending the male Baiya to the [SLAVE] world.
Baiya’s rebirth as Baiya Ifiel Chlorom was actually a conspiracy, far more complex than simply altering the Creator God’s script. To explain this, one must start from the beginning.
Baiya Ifiel Chlorom was the goddess of [SLAVE] and the supreme deity of her realm. After becoming a god, she recalled her own tragic and cruel fate and wished to destroy the [SLAVE] world along with herself.
Stopping her was the Creator God Fia’s duty.
After negotiations, the goddess Baiya agreed to reset the [SLAVE] world to the moment everything had just begun—when the fourteen-year-old Baiya was about to face her first despair.
“If life could be lived again, there would be no regrets, right, Baiya-chan~~”
Fia embraced the despairing goddess Baiya, smiling softly as she whispered to her.