CH 218
If this were another village, they would try to discuss it first.
I learned from Kyurim, another slave and member of the same White Wolf tribe, who was in the same group as me, that the basic procedure was to fight the person said to be strongest in the village with satisfactory reasons and rules of battle.
When I found out that, for some reason, only the village I lived in had a bizarre obsession with strength, I vowed to myself that I would definitely look back on it.
It is also significant that I now know that somewhere in my mind, I myself had thought that this was normal.
Anyway, my hometown is the perfect place to vent this unresolved emotion, and if you like to seek strength so much, I’ll let you seek it as much as you want.
And I must absolutely and completely beat up and crush that rotten little root in order to be praised and patted on the head by Master.
It is something I haven’t been able to do so far because it would be easy but time-consuming and cumbersome.
No doubt this is what the Master meant when he told me “Raffy, you know what I mean?” and gave me the day off.
That is proof that Master and I are connected in heart and mind.
I am sure that on the day I come to smash this village, I will be on a course to make a baby until morning without any doubt.
For some reason, some of the other slaves were talking about others with fantasies similar to mine, but their fantasy is just a fantasy.
I feel sorry for them, but it’s the truth, and I know how it feels to dream of such fantasies, so I left them alone.
Because it’s also kindness not to tell.
“Ah? It’s been a long time since I’ve seen an idiot come to pick a fight, and it’s the little kid Raffy. I thought you were weak and feeble, but from your looks, it seems that even your head got weak. I feel sorry for those who bought you as a slave with such a weak head.”
As I was pondering, I heard a familiar voice.
The voice belonged to my sister, the one who broke both my legs when they sold me into slavery.
I’m rather grateful to Master for picking me up because I had both legs broken and was causing an infection, but whether I forgive her or not is another matter.
“Oh? Looks like your legs got healed. What a waste. I broke it for you, you know?”
I learned from Kyurim, another slave and member of the same White Wolf tribe, who was in the same group as me, that the basic procedure was to fight the person said to be strongest in the village with satisfactory reasons and rules of battle.
When I found out that, for some reason, only the village I lived in had a bizarre obsession with strength, I vowed to myself that I would definitely look back on it.
It is also significant that I now know that somewhere in my mind, I myself had thought that this was normal.
Anyway, my hometown is the perfect place to vent this unresolved emotion, and if you like to seek strength so much, I’ll let you seek it as much as you want.
And I must absolutely and completely beat up and crush that rotten little root in order to be praised and patted on the head by Master.
It is something I haven’t been able to do so far because it would be easy but time-consuming and cumbersome.
No doubt this is what the Master meant when he told me “Raffy, you know what I mean?” and gave me the day off.
That is proof that Master and I are connected in heart and mind.
I am sure that on the day I come to smash this village, I will be on a course to make a baby until morning without any doubt.
For some reason, some of the other slaves were talking about others with fantasies similar to mine, but their fantasy is just a fantasy.
I feel sorry for them, but it’s the truth, and I know how it feels to dream of such fantasies, so I left them alone.
Because it’s also kindness not to tell.
“Ah? It’s been a long time since I’ve seen an idiot come to pick a fight, and it’s the little kid Raffy. I thought you were weak and feeble, but from your looks, it seems that even your head got weak. I feel sorry for those who bought you as a slave with such a weak head.”
As I was pondering, I heard a familiar voice.
The voice belonged to my sister, the one who broke both my legs when they sold me into slavery.
I’m rather grateful to Master for picking me up because I had both legs broken and was causing an infection, but whether I forgive her or not is another matter.
“Oh? Looks like your legs got healed. What a waste. I broke it for you, you know?”
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