The day after the tournament, I woke up with great difficulty from my morning sleep. I had slept terribly — not just because of the lousy bed. It was hard to bear the thought that I had lost 11,000 sesterces from my prize because of the penalties.
At the crack of dawn, Thanida appeared at my door, ready to begin her year of servitude. She was paler than usual, yet stood proud and stiff, as if she were the one meant to give orders.
Elesya greeted her with a polite — though clearly fake — smile. With a pleasant, friendly voice, she invited her to wait at the door for a moment, then slipped inside my room to announce her arrival.
I let Elesya play the role of my personal secretary, not quite sure what she was planning. I suspected, however, that she wanted to settle accounts with Thanida for those mockingly arrogant words she had thrown at us before the tournament.
Elesya left the door slightly open, and I could hear everything perfectly:
“Our master has been merciful enough to receive you,” Elesya said, her voice warm yet solemn.
“What? You’re a slave too?” Thanida asked, startled.
“Yes,” Elesya answered without hesitation, “but for different reasons than yours. When I saw how profound his wisdom is, I asked to become a slave of my own will. I have never regretted it. It is an honor that he accepted.”
“And how is he… as a master?”
“It is not proper for me to speak of it. I will only say this: he’s a stern but just master.”
Thanida was stunned, unsure what to believe about me or her situation. Still, she decided to enter.
I sighed, realizing Elesya enjoyed pretending far too much. Just like when we carried out that little misinformation campaign to scare off the Academy teams and make them withdraw from the contest. Elesya knew how to tell lies so convincingly they were believed instantly.
“I’ve come… master,” Thanida said reluctantly, her eyes scanning my austere room with clear disgust. “I’m ready to carry out your orders.”
Without a word, she handed me a scroll. As soon as I unrolled it, I understood: a standard contract for voluntary slavery.
I read it carefully to avoid unpleasant surprises. Apparently, this type of contract was used by mages in difficult situations to repay debts by serving another.
To my surprise, a voluntary slave had quite a few rights. I was obliged to provide Thanida with shelter, clothes, food, and even small payments depending on her tasks. I could neither hit her nor even yell at her. Moreover, I had to grant her free medical care if she fell ill, and even set aside money for her old age. When I saw that she had thirty days of paid vacation per year, I almost dropped the scroll.
I realized a voluntary slave in this world had more rights than an employee in my country. Of course, most slaves here weren’t volunteers — only mages could benefit from such favorable terms.
With hesitation, I signed. I already knew the contract would end much, much sooner than planned — supporting a personal slave was far too expensive for me. Still, Thanida deserved a little lesson, especially since I had lost nearly half my prize because of her.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“First,” I said, staring straight at her, “tell me what you can do.”
Thanida didn’t hesitate:
“I can wield a sword, shoot a bow, and use my powers in magical combat. I received top marks in fencing lessons, and when it comes to archery, I almost always hit the bullseye. Among the spells I know are concentrated fire, serpents, and fire lines. I can hurl fireballs that reach distances of—”
Bored, I cut her off with a gesture.
“Enough, Thanida. Those spells are trivial. Even a non-mage can manage them. I didn’t call you here to list things I don’t need.”
Her eyes flashed with anger, but she held her tongue. I continued, voice firm:
“Thanida, from today forward, your task will be to cook for all of us. As an apprentice of Trismegistus, I don’t have time for such trivial matters. How you prepare it is your concern — but make sure it’s edible, since you will eat it too. I’ll reimburse all food expenses.”
Thanida froze, stunned. She had expected any humiliating task but this.
“But I don’t know how to cook!” she snapped. “I trained my whole life to become a battle-mage! Give me a task worthy of my abilities!”
I paused a moment, then replied sharply:
“You are so arrogant, Thanida, that you imagine a battle-mage doesn’t need to know how to cook?”
My tone was so harsh she involuntarily stepped back. I softened slightly:
“Remember, Thanida—you must fulfill my orders for one full year. You don’t know how to cook? Then you’ll learn. Consider it a new trial in your training. Start with simple dishes—like boiled vegetables. As you improve, you can try more complex meals—sauces, soups, that sort of thing. Elesya and I aren’t picky, but make sure the food isn’t burnt or greasy. Don’t forget to add enough salt! And use all the necessary spices so it actually tastes good. You decide what to cook first. Now, take five sesterces from the pouch on the table and buy what you need. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
Thanida flushed red and stormed out, wrapping her black cloak around herself.
Immediately after Thanida left, I went to the Academy’s payment office to settle the remaining tuition for the past year. It had taken me a full year of effort—culminating in an arena duel—just to scrape together the 6,000 sesterces.
One question remained open: how would I pay next year’s fee? I could already see it would be much harder now, especially after the dean had banned me from taking part in future tournaments.
As I walked down the Academy’s corridors, I spotted a printed scroll lying discarded on the floor. Looking closer, I realized it was the Wyrmlithus Academy Chronicle, one of the student publications that came out monthly. I had never bought a copy before because I never had the money.
Curious, I picked it up and skimmed the column headlines:
A Dirty Fight in the Arena — The Mad Mage Cheats: Miasma, Brimstone, and Demons — Result on the Brink of Annulment — Hundreds of Thousands of Sesterces in Damages — The Dean Seeks Justice.
Leaning against the wall, I began reading the most outrageous account yet of the duel that had taken place just the day before.
The article portrayed me as a mad mage, completely out of control, yet somehow granted access to obscure forms of magic. It claimed I’d only won by resorting to the dirtiest tricks ever seen—so vile that even necromancers would refuse to use them. Among my so-called tactics were brimstone smoke, poisonous miasmas, and, of course, turning the arena into a pestilent swamp teeming with vipers, hydras, and other venomous creatures.
By contrast, Thanida was described as a noble, honorable fighter who would never stoop to dubious magic even in the most desperate circumstances. There was no mention anywhere of her fire demon summoned at the end of the fight.
I took a deep breath as I read, trying not to get too angry. I was used to journalists embellishing or twisting facts, but this was a complete departure from reality.
The author claimed I had been on the brink of defeat and had saved myself by calling in a legion of demons. Thanida, the piece said, had fought them like a goddess but had been overwhelmed by the sheer number of evil beings I had supposedly summoned.
According to the article, Thanida’s defeat was a myth. In reality, the piece insisted, Thanida had deliberately lost the fight to save the spectators. Had she not sacrificed herself, I would have flooded the stands and hundreds of innocent people — many of them elderly, women and children — would have died. Morally speaking, the conclusion read, Thanida was the true victor, and her loss was only due to her scrupulous fairness.
Before tossing the scroll aside, I read the author’s name again to memorize it. I promised myself that if he ever ended up in my hands, he wouldn’t be getting any comfortable treatment.
Which character from the book do you like the most?
