"Alright, now put your fingerprint here," Ghislain said, holding out a slave contract. The bolded "10 years" on the document loomed large in their vision.
Claude, Alpoi, and the mages took the contract with trembling hands. Signing it meant they'd truly become slaves from that moment on.
Tears in his eyes, Claude pleaded, "Can't we just call it a draw?"
"What nonsense. I won. Now hurry up and sign."
"C-couldn't we just work unpaid? Do we really need an actual slave contract…?"
He'd thought "unpaid" was just a figure of speech, not that Ghislain would bring an actual contract.
Ghislain was beyond their wildest expectations.
"You promised to work without complaints, didn't you? This is just a formality to make sure you don't try to run away."
Claude, with a defeated look, slowly moved his hand toward the contract.
"Fine, fine. I really need to quit gambling. How can someone not even listen to a man begging with tears?" he muttered bitterly, slapping his hand down on the contract.
"Happy now? Ugh, I knew this would end badly. You sure know your way around a wager, Lord. I'll be getting my revenge one day."
As someone who was no stranger to losing bets, Claude accepted defeat quickly. But Alpoi, who had lived his life as the dignified heir to the Magic Tower, was not as willing to let it go.
For him, this was the worst humiliation he'd ever experienced—all because of a single bet.
Genuine tears welled in his eyes as he cried, "I can't do it! No! I refuse!"
Backing away, he stumbled, desperately trying to avoid the contract. Claude sneered.
"That's how gambling works. First, you lose your hands, then your feet… until you regret every choice you made, wondering why you ever got involved."
"Shut up! I'm not like you! You're a gambler! I'm not!"
"That's the thing. Who told you to join a high-stakes game in the first place? This was meant for seasoned players, not amateurs."
"You! You made me believe you'd win! I trusted you!"
"Who, me?" Claude shrugged with a smug grin.
Infuriated, Alpoi began lashing out.
"It's all your fault! I didn't know! My situation is different! Show some mercy!"
"Acting like this at a gambling table is how you get tossed out."
"It's because of you!"
Claude, already bound to Ghislain by debt, was effectively a slave in all but name. But it was different for the mages.
They had already spent half a year here, and in another six months, they'd be free to return to the Magic Tower.
But ten more years here? In this miserable place?
"I'd rather die!"
Ghislain nodded. "Then go ahead and die."
"Nooooo!"
As Alpoi attempted to flee, a group of mercenaries tackled him and forced him to the ground. Only when they pressed a sword to his neck did he stop struggling.
"Hey, this is too much! I'm the heir to the Magic Tower! You can't treat me this way!"
Ghislain smirked wickedly.
"Do you know why I let you strut around unchecked?"
"Why?"
"If I had just beaten you up, you'd have apologized and backed off. That wasn't what I wanted."
"You… did you plan this from the start?"
"Finally getting it?" Ghislain chuckled.
Alpoi and the mages cursed themselves for being so gullible.
They should have suspected something was up when Ghislain was uncharacteristically calm, but they'd been too distracted by the thought of winning.
And they'd dismissed his refusal to back out of the bet as mere pride.
If he'd thought he would lose, he would have just beaten them into silence. They should have realized.
Ghislain clicked his tongue, looking almost disappointed.
"Honestly, I'd hoped for a better turnout, but one Head butler and six mages isn't too bad."
"Damn devil…"
"What? Where else will you find someone as fair as me? I didn't force you to bet. This is a fair outcome. Now, your fingerprint. We needed confidentiality contracts anyway, so this works out."
In truth, the one thing Ghislain had been worried about was that the mages might spread the techniques and spells used in the recent project.
But with them bound by a slave contract, that risk was minimized.
A slave revealing their master's secrets was grounds for execution, so they would keep quiet to protect their lives.
"No! I won't do it!"
Sighing, Ghislain pulled a small axe from his belt.
"Well, if you really can't, I'll accept a hand in place of your loyalty."
"W-wait! Is that really necessary?"
"Of course. I am a lord, after all. I have my dignity to uphold."
"Dignity? Since when do you care about dignity? You're a lord who carries an axe! What dignity?"
"Well, I thought I'd start paying attention now. I'll need to make connections with other nobles soon. Losing a hand won't prevent you from casting spells, right?"
Claude chimed in sarcastically. "Exactly. Losing a hand is the perfect way to break a gambling habit. And if that doesn't work, the next thing to go is the foot."
"Shut up!"
"Alright then, one hand coming up," Ghislain said, raising the axe with a menacing look.
Alpoi's face went pale. He knew Ghislain was serious—he wouldn't hesitate once his mind was made up.
As the axe began to descend, Alpoi sobbed, "Fine! I'll sign! Just give me the contract!"
***
Ghislain collected the contracts from the remaining mages and tucked them away securely.
Alpoi watched intently, noting where he put the documents.
'I have to destroy that.'
Even if the contract had no magic binding, any records left behind were dangerous.
As the heir to the Magic Tower, he couldn't afford to let proof of his slavery exist.
While Alpoi brooded, Ghislain handed a new document to Claude.
"Here, take this."
"What… what is this?"
"Additional tasks."
"You're joking, right? There's already more than enough work as it is!"
"Nah, you're doing great. So, go ahead and add this. It won't take long."
"...And what happens when it's done?"
"A new job starts."
Claude clicked his tongue in irritation but glanced at the document when Ghislain raised his fist.
"It's just a list of names…"
"Yeah. Track down everyone listed and bring them to our estate. Don't use force if they're unwilling, but feel free to pay them as much as necessary. These people are important, so handle them carefully. Got it?"
Claude blinked, glancing at the list with estimated locations next to each name.
"You really want me to bring all these people here? Are the locations accurate?"
"They should be. A few might have moved, though, so don't worry if some aren't around."
The document held the names of the vassals Ghislain had once commanded in his past life.
While it would have been ideal to gather all of the thousands who had once served him, that was unlikely. So he'd picked the most talented and essential.
By his standards, it was a modest selection.
"There are over a hundred people here."
"Yeah, it's not that many."
Claude gritted his teeth, the paper crumpling in his hand.
Finding the people wasn't the hard part.
After all, Ghislain said he didn't need to force them if they were unavailable.
The problem was that they didn't even have enough manpower to manage the estate, let alone hunt down people in other territories.
"We're already short-staffed in the estate. When are we supposed to track down people across borders? We don't even have anyone to send!"
"Hire help from other estates if you have to. Or use an information guild. Whatever it costs, pay it."
Claude clenched his teeth, swallowing the curse that almost escaped.
Ghislain had been known to punch anyone who irritated him, and now that he had a slave contract, there was no stopping him.
'Barely getting any sleep as it is, and he keeps piling on more work…'
Claude wished he'd never followed Ghislain here, grateful or not.
There was no undoing it now.
'All I can do is try to avoid him as much as possible.'
As Claude was about to inch away, Ghislain murmured something that froze him in place.
"Hmm… Food is sorted, so it's time to start a profitable business."
"What are you going to do now? You already have enough food from that mana concentration circle to feed the people and still have plenty left to sell. What else could you possibly need in this wretched land?"
"That food stays put. We're saving it for when we really need it."
Claude let out an exasperated sigh.
The estate's basic needs were met, so why hold back?
There was profit to be made, yet now Ghislain was playing miser?
"We have too much to stockpile. Wheat doesn't last forever, you know. What if it rots?"
Most estates stored food for lean years or war, but they had enough wheat to last years already.
There was no point in stockpiling if it would just spoil.
Ghislain replied, "Our food won't spoil easily. It'll keep for a few years, even in storage."
"That's… That's ridiculous."
"When it starts to spoil, we'll sell it at a discount or distribute it. The large grains will sell well then, too."
Claude almost argued but bit his tongue. He knew nothing about the strange wheat, so he kept silent.
In a few years, he'd find out if Ghislain was right.
"Alright, fine. But stockpiling food just means we'll have to keep selling rune stones to make money. What's this other source of income you're planning?"
"We can't create resources, so we'll make a specialty product. That'll bring in money."
"Oh, of course, our lord can do anything… Is that what you expect me to say? You think specialty products can just be whipped up out of thin air?"
They had neither resources nor technology. Without the knowledge or manpower to create something special, they'd be lucky to produce anything, let alone a "specialty" item.
Claude squinted, studying Ghislain with a skeptical look.
"Sure, the wheat worked, thanks to mana. But making things is an entirely different issue. You need expertise and skilled people. Do we have any of that?"
"Not yet."
"Then what are you going to make? Instead of wasting time and money, why not just sell the food? Let's be practical, for once."
But Ghislain shot him a sly smile.
"Want to bet? Twenty years this time."
Claude almost shouted, "Deal!" before pausing, chills running down his spine.
For the first time in his life, the gambler within him felt a sense of restraint.
[T/L: Please support me and read extra chapters here: https://ko-fi.com/revengerscans ]