A Villain Enslaves a Villain (Ch 1 – Part 3)

When Vermon finally released his slave, he straightened up, feeling triumph.

“From now on, I won’t get bored,” he said while fixing his eyes on a glowing circle with strange symbols on the back of Orb’s left hand.

“And this sacred seal cannot be removed,” he proudly stated.

Meanwhile, with tears in the corners of his eyes, Orb struggled to suppress his groans. His right hand, which held his left, trembled in a way that made Vermon chuckle while watching.

The blood continued to trickle out of the sealed hand while the feeling of the inflamed, peeled skin grew intense over time.

Orb, now breathing heavily, sat up and rasped, “What—did you do?”

“Hmm? Have you not heard my declaration minutes ago? I branded you with the seal of Uthus.”

Vermon helped Orb up. “From now on, I am your master. You will live and serve me as long as you bear my seal, and you will never be able to die without my permission. What’s more, you cannot get rid of it, even if you try to cut off your hand.” He then gestured at Orb’s bleeding hand.

Looking wildly with disbelief at the Arkosian man, Orb began staggering aimlessly, feeling like he was floundering in deep darkness caused by his sense of loss and fear.

His suffering had many reasons: the persistent pain in his damaged eyes, the fatigue caused by contracting the plague, the bitter taste of the poisonous Olfed herb, and the pain of his sealed hand that was peeling and bleeding at the same time.

Yet, the pain of enslavement was the strongest.

Orb realized that his so-called savior was nothing but an elite from the Arkosian Empire and that the seal confirmed his power and superiority.

Such a powerful individual might have come to the Kingdom of Empamalangon on some mission and found Orb in his weakest state to enslave him.

Alas, the Empire of Arkosia was the only one among the six world states in which slavery was common and legal.

Vermon’s voice reached Orb’s ears, faint and floating. “From now on, I won’t get bored. What? What are you saying?”

“Wh—? Who are you?” Orb slurred his words. He uttered a few incoherent words wearily as Vermon began to tie ropes around his emaciated waist.

“Why did I make you, my slave?”

He looked at Orb, whose dripping hair was strewn across his face.

“Ah, I didn’t plan on this; however, you seem to know about herbs and medicines. You also possess extraordinary powers,” He paused momentarily, “fierce and short-tempered! I liked that about you. You seem fun to toy with.”

Vermon handed him his cane. “Here. Your cane to help you walk. Thank me for saving it with you.”

Then, he dragged Orb behind him by the rope’s end, and the latter walked like he was under the influence of sedatives, feeling drowsy and lightheaded.

“That’s my end—no use …” Orb murmured in despair. Trembling with the terrible persistent pain of the seal and the disease, he sweated excessively.

“What are you babbling? You are mine now. Do not try to rid yourself of me because you cannot; you will torment yourself instead,” Vermon grinned, seemingly happy.

After striding a few meters away from the hill that overlooked the temple, Vermon hoisted himself onto his horse, deftly winding Orb’s rope around his large Arkosian hand.

“Follow my lead!” he commanded.

With little time for Orb to react, the horse transitioned swiftly from a trot to a canter. Struggling to match the horse’s pace, Orb stumbled and fell to the ground.

Undeterred, Vermon glanced back momentarily, then extended his arm to haul Orb’s weakened body a few inches off the ground before he fell once more.

“You’re no fun at all,” Vermon remarked.

“St—stop!” Orb gasped.

“What a weakling! I intend to discipline you!” Vermon declared.

In that instant, Orb rose to his feet and relinquished his cane. Despite his breathlessness and exhaustion, he initiated a sprint.

Yet, his balance faltered, causing him to tumble once more.

Vermon persisted in dragging him, tethered at the waist, down the mountainside.

* * *

That night, Vermon dragged Orb ruthlessly for hours without looking back. Disregarding the suffering and the moans of his slave intentionally, Vermon maintained the calm and composed appearance of an Arkosian knight.

During one of the two rest stops for the horse on that long journey, Vermon dismounted his horse and stood before his new slave, examining him with interest.

He showed no concern for Orb, not even when he found out too late that Orb had no shoes on and that his clothes were tattered and dirtied with soil and blood.

However, Vermon once and reluctantly did try to give Orb some water from a canteen he carried with him.

Orb, lying on the ground, was too exhausted to swallow, so what he gathered leaked from the sides of his mouth, but Vermon did not care.

When Vermon finally reached Lipin, the capital of the Empamalangon Kingdom, he boarded his ready and waiting ship and gave the order to leave for the Empire of Arkosia through the seaport that night.

Vermon kept his new slave with his horse in the cargo hold throughout the voyage, and no one dared to object or question the ship’s owner.

***

End of Chapter (1)