Dark Fantasy Normalized-Chapter 68

Reply: Nah, it’s gotta be more like stopping the destiny quests before they even start.

OP: Oh, like grabbing the Death Knight and True Ancestor by the leash before they lose it?

Reply: Exactly.

Reply: Not a bad idea.

Reply: But bundling all those destiny quests into one route would be wild.

Reply: LOL, imagine destiny quests popping up like event quests nonstop.

Reply: So what, for a happy ending you’d need to:

Convince the Dark Elf.Tame the True Ancestor.Talk down the Mad Priestess and send her back to the World Tree.Negotiate with the anti-spirit biophobe.Stop the necromancer, cure the Assassin Master’s illness, and return him to the guild.Prevent the Dark Elf noble’s corruption in the northern district of Bondales.…Something about the World Tree.

Reply: Why am I out of breath just reading this?Reply: Did your keyboard get a garlic breath buff or something?OP: Even if they made a happy-ending route, it’d be so hard I wouldn’t clear it anyway.

[A Basement in Bondales]

In the dimly lit basement of a mansion in Bondales, a dark-skinned girl and a pale woman faced each other in stark contrast—

a Dark Elf and a human.

A master and a slave.

“Master… I have something to report…”

The slave’s voice trembled, as did her exposed body.

Her bare back was prostrated on the cold stone floor, like an open canvas.

Etched onto that back was a red scar, the mark of her enslavement.

As long as that scar existed, the slave could not defy her master.

Splash!

Cold water was suddenly poured over her frail body.

Her torso jerked involuntarily against the stone floor, but she quickly suppressed the movement.

Breaking her posture would lead to a punishment far worse than being drenched in freezing water while naked in a cold basement.

All she could do was let her body tremble violently, her breath ragged and shaky.

To restrain those actions would only serve to irritate her master further.

“Cold?”

Sure enough, the master spoke with a delighted tone, clearly amused by the slave’s pitiful state.

“Y-yes… I’m c-c-cold…”

“Really? Then what should I do about it?”

The master lifted a silver goblet, soon filling it with water.

Steam began to rise from the cup as the liquid inside boiled.

The slave, glancing at it from the corner of her eye, swallowed hard in fear.

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

“Oh? Really? Let’s hear it, then.”

The master swirled the goblet like a fine wine glass, her expression one of mild intrigue.

“The m-meeting with that individual has been… s-successfully arranged…”

“You mean Lisir?”

“Yes, Master…”

“And are you certain? With his help, we’ll be able to retrieve that ‘cursed, filthy slave’?”

“…”

Cursed, filthy slave.

It was the derogatory term often used to describe Dark Elf slaves.

The human slave’s voice quivered as she responded.

“I-I’m not completely certain… But from what I’ve heard, it’s highly likely we can receive his assistance…”

“And what kind of assistance would that be?”

“...Pardon?”

“Say it yourself. What kind of help are we getting?”

“...”

The slave hesitated, unable to bring herself to speak.

Splash!

The master tipped the boiling goblet slightly, spilling hot water onto the floor near the slave.

A few droplets splashed onto her skin, causing her to clench her teeth in pain.

She knew this was no act of mercy—it was her final warning.

If she provoked her master’s wrath even slightly more, she would feel the full brunt of the scalding water.

Eventually, the slave caved and answered exactly as her master desired.

“Th-they might help us… reclaim the cursed, filthy slaves…”

Her voice came out in stuttering gasps as she squeezed her eyes shut in terror.

Her master’s lips curled into a strange smile, a mixture of amusement, disdain, and restrained anger.

“If even a single ‘product’ is damaged, you’ll pay the full price. You understand, don’t you?”

If the slave’s arm was broken, her own arm would be broken.

If the slave’s toe rotted, hers would rot as well.

And if the slave died—

“Yes, I… I understand…”

The human slave barely managed to whisper her reply, her voice thick with fear.

“Kairen?”

Creak.

The basement door opened, and the sound of light footsteps drew closer.

The one entering was a young Dark Elf, his left eye covered by an eyepatch.

Without a word, he handed his master a set of clothing before turning away.

Shhhh.

The Dark Elf master began to undress without hesitation.

Her flawless, unblemished black skin was revealed as she discarded her clothes and donned the attire Kairen had brought her—a tattered, foul-smelling rag that barely qualified as clothing.

“Now, it’s your turn to get dressed.”

She casually tossed another set of clothes at the naked human slave, who scrambled to her knees to put them on.

Once clothed, the human adorned herself with ornate jewelry, covering her body in gaudy embellishments.

The bizarre sight unfolded:

The Dark Elf master wore rags, while the human slave was bedecked in splendor.

Their unusual dynamic created an equally unusual scene.

“Ready, Resha?”

The Dark Elf asked the human.

***

Resha was once a merchant based in Bondales, specializing in the trade of slaves.

Recently, luck had been on her side. She had managed to acquire a Dark Elf slave.

Dark Elves were often objects of fear and disdain, but when enslaved, the narrative shifted.

A superstition surrounded Dark Elf slaves: they were believed to absorb and bear their owner’s misfortunes. Coupled with their striking resemblance to High Elves—a noble race—their value soared.

The unsightly dark skin, often a point of contention, wasn’t an issue. The underworld was brimming with substances catering to depraved pleasures, including drugs that temporarily lightened a Dark Elf’s skin to resemble that of a High Elf.

Trading High Elf slaves was a death sentence, as the Great Forest would dispatch hunters to track down the culprits immediately.

But Dark Elves?

Dark Elf slaves provided a twisted alternative for those who harbored a mix of admiration and perverse desires toward High Elves. They were both rare commodities and status symbols.

Resha had stored the Dark Elf in a warehouse in the city’s underbelly, preparing to put her up for sale in an upcoming black-market slave auction.

At that point, she considered herself fortunate.

At least until another Elf showed up.

“You. I heard you’ve got a Dark Elf slave.”

“Heh, why? Interested? Just wait. The auction will start soon.”

“How about you tell me the full story?”

“…A Dark Elf…!”

They enslaved Resha.

To the outside world, she appeared to be a slave herself, but in reality, they kept her close, using her to orchestrate their plans.

Their goal?

To recover a lost sibling in a city of humans who reviled and exploited Dark Elves.

***

Katria, a Dark Elf, could not understand.

Why had her younger sibling, who had suddenly vanished one day, ended up in this distant city of humans?

And who was the informant who had provided her with the lead on her sibling’s whereabouts?

At first, curiosity consumed her. The questions haunted her day and night.

But now, she no longer cared.

The truth was, Katria held a quiet anticipation for this journey.

It was her first.

Her first venture beyond the homeland of the Dark Elves, her first encounter with the outside world.

What new experiences awaited her?

What was her sister doing out here?

That anticipation, however, didn’t take long to sour into worry and, eventually, revulsion.

“Wearing such fancy clothes for a Dark Elf? Heh, where’d you scavenge those?”

“A D-Dark Elf!? Get out! Get out of my shop right now! You’ll curse this place!”

The “newness” she found in the outside world was nothing but prejudice, manifesting as discrimination and hatred.

It was only then that she understood.

Why the elders had been so concerned when she announced her intention to travel to human lands.

Why they had insisted on assigning the family’s finest knight as her escort.

The once-innocent young lady was slowly tainted by loathing as the journey wore on.

And near the journey’s end, she finally uncovered a piece of information.

A Dark Elf, referred to as nothing more than a “specimen,” had been traded in a black-market auction orchestrated by a slaver named Resha.

Katria made her vow then and there.

She would rescue her sibling from this wretched land of humans.

And on the day it was all over, she would return to these people the hatred they had shown her and her kind.

“Lead the way.”

Two Dark Elf slaves followed closely behind a merchant.

They were heading toward a meeting with a mage from the Gray Tower.

***

The guild leaders had rented an entire tavern near the Gray Tower for the meeting.

As Katria and her group entered, the atmosphere shifted instantly.

“What the…?”

“Dark Elves—”

Perhaps because the Tower’s mage had not yet arrived, the scattered attention of the room honed in on Katria and her companions.

The merchants’ reactions varied.

Curiosity.

Contempt.

Discomfort.

One merchant turned on Resha with a demanding tone.

“Resha, what were you thinking, bringing Dark Elves to a place like this?”

“…”

Katria clenched her teeth as she overheard the exchange.

“Treating people like filth…”

How could humans be such a vile species?

The more she encountered them, the more her experiences grew into wounds, and her disdain for them deepened.

“There’s a reason for this. I hope you’ll understand,” Resha said with a forced, bitter smile, glancing nervously at Katria.

Even so, the merchants remained visibly displeased.

It was, at least, fortunate timing.

“Oh.”

“Is that him?”

“That must be the Acting Tower Master, and the one beside her…”

The arrival of the mages shifted the merchants’ focus.

“Let’s proceed in order.”

This chapter is updated by freēwēbnovel.com.

Both the Acting Tower Master and Lisir, the Honorary Mage, entered a private room.

The merchants were called in one by one, leaving with satisfied expressions.

Eventually, it was Katria’s group’s turn.

“Please, take a seat.”

Lisir gestured toward them.

Resha took her place, flanked by the two Dark Elves.

“…”

For a moment, Lisir’s expression stiffened.

His eyes darted briefly across the two Dark Elves before returning to neutral.

“What? Does the mere sight of us Dark Elves disgust you?”

Katria smirked inwardly.

She had held faint hope for the mage with such a positive reputation, but of course—he was just another human.

With a subtle signal to Resha, Katria waited as the merchant began her prepared speech.

“First, I must apologize for the inconvenience of having to share this space with filthy Dark Elves. However, there is a reason, so please—”

Even with Resha’s apologetic tone, Lisir’s expression didn’t soften.

“Filthy Dark Elves…” he muttered, repeating the words with a serious expression. His gaze lingered on the two Dark Elves again.

An awkward tension filled the room before Lisir spoke abruptly.

“Let’s get straight to the point.”

He seemed eager to end the interaction as quickly as possible, further cementing Katria’s growing disdain.

“…Then, without warning, they severed contact and vanished. They absconded with my slave. I need your help to retrieve them.”

“Is this slave particularly important?”

Lisir’s question carried an enigmatic undertone.

“Why would anyone care so much about a single Dark Elf slave?” would be the obvious interpretation.

Resha, sensing his bias, attempted to appeal to him as a merchant. She described, in graphic detail, the value of Dark Elf slaves—how they could be used and why they were considered so precious.

It wasn’t the kind of talk one would dare to have in front of two Dark Elves whose lives were on the line. But Resha had no choice; failure to secure Lisir’s cooperation could lead to consequences far worse than losing face.

“That will do,” Lisir interrupted, his discomfort plain as he waved off Resha’s explanation.

He exchanged a brief conversation with the Acting Tower Master before turning back to Resha.

“I’ll help you retrieve your slave. However, I’d like to propose a condition.”

“Oh, if it’s about sponsorship, you don’t need to worry—”

“It’s not that.”

“Then, what…?”

Lisir’s eyes settled on Katria.

“If possible, I’d like to… purchase your Dark Elf slaves. Including the two here.”

“…!”

Katria instinctively crossed her arms over her body as if shielding herself.

“This scum…!”

Not long ago, he had regarded them with disdain. And now, the moment he learned of their “value,” he wanted to buy them outright?

The blatant and vile intent made Katria’s stomach churn.

In her mind, this Lisir was the most repulsive human she had ever encountered.

***

I looked at the two Dark Elves standing before me and thought to myself,

“What would my master have done in this situation?”

For now, I decided to save them.

I couldn’t bring myself to stand by and do nothing—

not when they reminded me so much of my master.

***

■ Katria

Level: 41Race: Dark Elf

■ Kairen

Level: 61Race: Dark Elf