Chapter 7

"Miss Mirabel, your control over your magic has improved significantly since yesterday. Did something happen?"

"..."

Mirabel didn’t respond to Colton's question, keeping her lips tightly sealed.

Yesterday, after receiving the staff as a gift, she had looked as if she’d seen a demon. Now, her expression was a mixture of emotions.

It was clear her feelings had shifted. She wasn’t happy about where the staff came from, but using it… well, it was too good not to like.

‘Of course, it is. That’s no ordinary item.’

In games, every item has its specs.

There are items that boost stats and others that suppress debuffs, and Taosle was no different. There were items that enhanced stats or helped slaves by suppressing their inherent debuffs.

These items were categorized by rarity, from Normal to Rare, Epic, Unique, and finally Legendary. The Celestial Oath, of course, belonged to the Legendary tier.

Being a staff, it naturally enhanced magic power and significantly increased spell performance—among other ridiculous effects.

But the most noteworthy feature was the Magic Conversion effect.

Its previous owner, Inaxia, was the son of a sage and a high elf, but despite what you might expect, his life wasn’t filled with praise. He was despised simply for being a half-elf.

Back in those days, the attitude was, "Being born between a human and a monkey is no different."

As a result, Inaxia cut off his long ears, dyed his golden hair, and used strong perfumes to hide the natural scent of the forest that clung to him.

However, he couldn’t change the innate magical power of an elf. After decades of struggle, he modified The Celestial Oath, his mother’s inheritance, to alter the nature of his magic so it wouldn’t be recognized as elven.

‘That’s why this staff is perfect for Mirabel.’

Mirabel, the witch.

It reduced the strange, eerie feeling others got when sensing her magic and also diminished the distinct magical traces that clergy could detect on witches.

It was essentially custom-made for Mirabel.

I could almost imagine the battle going on inside her head. Should she be happy about this or not?

As I was lost in thought, a soft light flared in front of me. A small fireball floated gently at the tip of Mirabel’s staff.

“Well, well! To think she could create a fireball already... I didn’t expect this! Every lesson, she far exceeds my expectations,” Colton exclaimed.

It’s common knowledge that learning magic takes at least a year, even with the best food, the best environment, and a royal mage instructor.

But Mirabel? She had mastered it in barely a week.

Is life all about bloodlines? It made me think of a certain eye-guy manga.

Mirabel, embarrassed by the praise, pressed her forehead against the staff, hiding her face. I, on the other hand, couldn’t help but wear a proud expression. Her progress reflected my excellent care, after all.

Mirabel glanced at me shyly.

Ha, no need for thanks. You’re going to bring me far greater rewards than just this.

“At this rate, we can start teaching her more advanced magic soon.”

It was like seeing an elementary school student suddenly begin high school courses after just a week.

“Well, keep up the good work. I’ll go for a walk.”

Watching magic happen in real-time was amazing, like a circus act, but Mirabel was still a novice witch. The same basic spells over and over got boring after a while.

So, I stretched a bit and left the training hall.

After Karamir left the training hall, the magic lessons continued. The passion for learning didn’t seem to cool.

Mirabel was a genius among geniuses, quickly grasping everything taught to her—whether it was magic control or spellcasting. Finding something she couldn’t do was harder than finding what she could.

Thanks to this, Colton felt the joy of being an educator in full force. Mirabel, too, enjoyed learning.

People often said that studying was boring, but for her, it was the opposite. From understanding knowledge to making it her own, every part of the process was fascinating.

Whether mage or witch, the difference wasn’t that big. Both were essentially obsessed with seeking knowledge and exploring the mysteries of magic, so in a way, they were both mad scholars.

Whoosh.

The Celestial Oath reacted to Mirabel’s magic, glowing softly. The air rippled as wind blades formed and flew forward, slicing through the metal training dummies with a crisp sound.

Colton clapped his hands in admiration.

“Your wind spells are incredibly precise as well. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve said this, but no matter how many times I see it, it’s awe-inspiring. You deserve every bit of praise. Other mages wouldn’t feel jealousy but rather reverence.”

“Th-thank you.”

Flustered by the continuous praise, Mirabel twisted her body in embarrassment and buried her face in her staff.

Having had enough fun blasting spells, Mirabel took a break.

While her magical reserves weren’t depleted, thanks to her natural talent and the boost from The Celestial Oath

, using magic constantly drained her mentally.

As she sipped some water, Colton approached her with a serious expression.

“Miss Mirabel, is Karamir a slave trader?”

“Yes, but why?”

“As I suspected…”

Colton nodded as if he had confirmed something.

“W-why do you ask?”

“Because your talent is something that could shake the world, and yet, you’re the slave of such a man. It’s truly unfortunate. Even if you become a grand mage, you’ll only ever be his servant.”@@novelbin@@

Colton sighed heavily, burdened by the harsh reality.

Mirabel, on the other hand, tilted her head slightly, not quite understanding. She had never even dreamed of becoming a grand mage, so she didn’t feel the same sense of regret.

Colton, now wearing a resolute expression, looked directly at Mirabel.

“Miss Mirabel, if you wish, I can help you escape your life as a slave.”

“Huh?”

“I noticed that your soul is bound by a contract. Is that correct?”

Mirabel nodded.

“It’s a vile method. A slave bound by the soul can never find freedom, not even in death. You’d be a slave for all eternity. That sort of magic is typically reserved for the most heinous of criminals or captured enemies. And yet, he’s used it on you.”

“Is that so…?”

“The good news is that he’s ignorant of magic. With your growing power, you could break the shackles on your soul yourself. Of course, you’re still inexperienced, so it would take time.”

Colton lifted his head, brimming with confidence.

“But don’t worry. I’ll be by your side to help you break free from those shackles and guide you to becoming a grand mage!”

Mirabel pondered his words.

Breaking the soul’s shackles… Does that mean I won’t be a slave anymore?

‘But… does it even matter?’

She had been abandoned, after all.

She no longer had a home to return to.

Her life was like a pebble tossed about by fate, rolling down into the darkest depths. Even if she grew legs, how could she climb back up into the light?

Mirabel shook her head inwardly. She was certain that day would never come.

Maybe if her current life were miserable, she’d consider it. But things weren’t all that bad.

When she had first become a slave, it had been difficult, but now she ate better than she had when she lived with her family and was experiencing things she could never have in her small village.

As for the maid uniform… at first, it had been unbearably humiliating, but now she had grown used to it. The material was soft, and it was quite pretty—though a bit too short.

Of course, she didn’t think of Karamir as a good person. He was, after all, the infamous "Slave Hunter," who had sent countless slaves to their deaths.

‘He doesn’t seem quite as bad as the rumors suggest, though.’

Regardless, Mirabel didn’t yearn for freedom.

“I’m telling you, killing him would only make the shackles stronger. You have to break them with magic…” Colton rambled on, not knowing what was going on in Mirabel’s mind, deep in thought.

Since Mirabel had started learning magic, life had become much more convenient.

Heavy objects could be moved with telekinesis. If it was cold, she’d cast a warming spell. A simple “Mizu” command would fill a cup with water.

As I stared at the water in the cup, I thought to myself:

‘Since magic is like a lifeblood, is this water like Mirabel’s body fluids?’

It was a bizarre inner monologue, and I downed the water in one shot. It almost tasted sweeter than normal.

I could now see why mages were held in such high regard in fantasy worlds. They’re basically living toolkits.

If I ever part ways with Mirabel, I’m going to miss this magical convenience.

I should probably reign it in a bit.

“Miss Mirabel, aren’t you tired from using magic all the time?”

“I do feel a bit tired... Since I started learning magic late, Mr. Colton said I need to practice regularly to build up my proficiency. He also said I have so much magic power that overusing it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Well, if that’s the case, I won’t stop you.”

Mirabel’s progress was far faster than I had anticipated.

Her talent played a huge part, but her genuine interest in magic also contributed. Her once lifeless eyes would sparkle like stars whenever she used magic.

Even if she tried to deny it, she couldn’t escape her witch’s bloodline.

‘She’s thriving.’

In the game, all I ever got was a stat increase or a notification that said, "status changed," and that was it. But seeing her progress in person… it was something else. You could literally see the improvements in her state day by day.

‘At this rate, I could move the plan forward.’

The complete liberation of Mirabel.

There’s a particular type of magic that’s necessary to see the true ending.

It can’t be obtained through ordinary means—you have to clear a dungeon. In the game, I’d just send her endlessly through dungeon runs until she got it, but now I’d have to go there myself.

I’ll need to schedule that soon.

A few more days passed, and nearly a month had gone by since we arrived in Libria.

“Mr. Colton, we’re leaving now.”

In Outer Words:

Thanks for the free rides.

Adios.