Chapter 2: Relationship that leads to misunderstandings

The mighty female hero, Emilia. The ordinary college student, Choi Yoon-seo.

She carried two names, and one day, after being hit by the infamous “reincarnation truck,” she was transported to another world.

Although the truck was at a distance and she tried to avoid it, it was as if the truck deliberately turned toward her, screaming, “I’ll send you to another world!”

In the end, she met her untimely demise on an unknown road.

When she opened her eyes again, a saint named Yuria was calling her “Hero.”

At first, she was confused, but once she realized she had entered the fantasy world she’d always dreamed of, she quickly adapted to her new reality.

For someone who loved fantasy genres in movies, novels, and webtoons, this was nothing short of a dream come true.

Proudly embracing the title of the first female hero in the continent’s history, she began her journey to save the other world alongside her comrades.

The archer extraordinaire, Viela.

The swordmaster, Daltan.

The master mage, Gleon.

The three companions were not only her allies but also her friends, supporting her devotedly along the way.

What unfolded before her was the idyllic life of adventure she had always yearned for.

Of course, there were urgent crises, uncomfortable sleeping arrangements, and days filled with exhaustion, but Yoon-seo simply enjoyed it all.

It made her feel alive.

She never lost her smile, even during the toughest of times.

She relished the excitement of romantic tension with her “handsome” companions and even found Viela’s adorable jealousy amusing.

And within just a year of their journey, they defeated the Demon King.

She fulfilled her duty as the hero summoned to vanquish the Demon King.

On their journey back, however, Yoon-seo began to sense that something was off.

Her once-warm companions became cold, and the caring hands that supported her turned distant.

She dismissed it as mere exhaustion, but that ominous feeling became a blade pointed at her neck the moment they arrived at the royal castle.

The charge was treason.

“Hero Emilia attempted to assassinate King Briccal!”

“I heard it too! She kept saying the King was incompetent and that she should rule instead!”

“That’s right. She often mentioned that saving the world deserved at least one kingdom in return.”

Listening to her comrades spew lies to the King left her utterly dumbfounded.

How could they, who had fought life and death battles alongside her for a year and achieved the monumental feat of saving the continent, stoop to telling such blatant falsehoods?

At first, she couldn’t believe it.

Was this a prank? A hidden camera moment?

Were they just laying the groundwork for an elaborate farewell celebration?

“Wh-why are you all acting like this? Why would I dream of rebellion when I have everything I need? This doesn’t make any sense.”

It truly didn’t.

As a reward for saving the continent, she had already been promised land within the kingdom and grand honors from the empire.

It was more than enough for her to live out a peaceful and contented life.

But rebellion?

It was so preposterous it left her at a loss for words.

Who could possibly believe such nonsense?

“A holy hero plotting rebellion… While we are deeply grateful for your efforts in saving the continent, we cannot ignore such a heinous plan.”

“What? No, it’s not true! I’ve never even considered—”

“Enough. The more you speak, the more disgraceful it becomes.”

To her disbelief, the King believed—or perhaps had always known about—the fabricated conspiracy.

He didn’t even bother to listen to her defense. Instead, he passed judgment as if offering her some form of mercy.

It was as if the ending had been predetermined from the start.

“Treason usually warrants execution, but considering your ‘contribution to saving the kingdom,’ you will instead be sentenced to slavery.

Even the saint remarked that executing you would bring ‘misfortune’ upon the kingdom.

Additionally, this sentence has been approved by His Majesty, Emperor Dmibella.

Imprison the criminal in the underground dungeon.”

She returned triumphant after saving the continent, only to be accused of treason and sentenced to slavery based solely on the claims of her companions.

Enraged beyond control, Emilia unleashed all her power to fight for her life.

But once branded a traitor, even her efforts to survive worked against her.

“Look at her! She really did plan a rebellion, didn’t she?”

“She’s finally showing her true colors!”

“Aha! I knew it! Restrain the traitor at once!”

As if they had been waiting for this moment, her three companions attacked her in unison.

Emilia was forced to fight for her life, but they overwhelmed her with relentless teamwork.

Taking advantage of a momentary lapse in her defense, the royal court’s grand wizard, Walrock, absorbed her power and sealed her.

Though Emilia was powerful, her strength wasn’t born of natural skill; it was destiny that enabled her to defeat the Demon King.

Her strength wasn’t enough to fend off her companions’ coordinated assault, and as if fate demanded it, Emilia became a convicted traitor.

Even her desperate struggle for survival was deemed an act of treason, and she was imprisoned in the underground dungeon for over a month.

There, she endured every form of torture imaginable—except for sacred torture.

Saint Yuria had forbidden sacred torture, claiming it would bring misfortune to the royal family, but other horrifying methods gradually broke Emilia down.

Every torturer had one demand:

“Admit you’re a traitor. Acknowledge your crimes, and you may at least save your life.”

Emilia couldn’t understand why this was happening.

She had planned to spend her remaining years traveling the world, so why were they so determined to destroy her?

What were they so afraid of?

Her curiosity drove her to ask several times, but she received no answers—only repeated demands for her confession.

After two months of torment worse than any hell she could imagine, Emilia was utterly broken by fear.

The sight of her torturers made her lose control of her bladder.

She vomited up almost everything she ate and suffered from bizarre phobias like claustrophobia, fear of corporal punishment, and fear of suffocation.

Eventually, she gave up on everything.

Her dreams of exploring this fantastical world.

Her hopes of etching her name, Hero Emilia, into history.

She decided it had all been just a fleeting dream.

She wasn’t a hero. She was a s*ave, and that was her true identity.

Yes, if a s*ave dared to dream of rebellion, they deserved punishment. That’s what she told herself.

“So, you’ve finally realized that you’re a traitor and that the King has shown you mercy.”

“I… I am a traitor. I am deeply grateful to His Majesty for his boundless generosity, even as I dreamt of treason.”

She realized that there was only one answer.

And so, Emilia was recorded in history as a “traitor.”

Her punishment? A life of slavery.

She was grateful for it.

The simple act of stepping out of the dungeon and feeling sunlight on her skin brought her to tears.

Thus, the Hero Emilia became the s*ave Esil.

She met her master, who had paid an astonishing 500 gold for her—a fallen s*ave, stripped of everything, branded a traitor.

It was an unbelievable sum for someone like her.

Moreover, her new master was someone she vaguely recognized: a confidant of the very king who had destroyed her.

And so, Esil sat nervously across from her master, Rosel, in the carriage.

*Clip-clop, clip-clop.*

The sound of hooves filled the quiet carriage.

Esil glanced at Rosel.

No, she had already glanced his way countless times.

It had been nearly two hours since they departed the capital, yet her master, Rosel, continued to stare out the window with an unreadable expression.

He was said to have a good reputation.

But to Esil, who harbored deep disillusionment with nobles, he was just another *noble*.

And investing 500 gold in her virginity? That made him seem like an eccentric noble at best.

When they had first met, she thought he was polite. But humans, as always, proved to be untrustworthy.

Though the carriage window was open, being confined in such a small space alone with her master triggered Esil’s claustrophobia.

She began biting her nails.

The memories of the underground prison, where she had been trapped alone with her torturers, resurfaced and began to erode her sanity.

*Click-click-click.*

As a s*ave, she knew it was crossing a line to harm herself without her master’s permission.

But the two months of torture had ingrained this habit so deeply that she couldn’t stop herself.

Just as people eat and later relieve themselves, she bit her nails when anxious.

It was a natural law of the world for her now.

She lowered her head to ensure her master wouldn’t see her.

Out of sight, she felt slightly less fearful, able to focus solely on biting her nails.

*Click-click-click.*

Even though she had no nails left to bite, Esil kept her head down, diligently nibbling away.

Rosel, hearing the noise, shifted his gaze from the window to Esil.

*Click-click-click.* The sound conveyed her anxiety clearly, even amidst the rattling of the carriage wheels.

“…Doesn’t that hurt?”

After hesitating several times, Rosel finally asked cautiously.

But at that moment, Esil sucked in a sharp breath, her shoulders tensing.

Then she began to tremble uncontrollably.

Even with her eyes tightly shut, her fear seeped out.

Instinctively, she braced herself for what she thought was coming—a slap across the face.

Rosel sighed awkwardly and turned his gaze back to the window.

This was just the beginning of a long climb.

There was no need to rush, to reprimand her, or to act impatiently.

“…Don’t be so frightened. That’s not why I asked.”

“…We’ll arrive at the estate soon. Here, I’ve prepared some clothes for you. Change into them.”

*Thud.*

A bundle of fabric landed clumsily on the seat beside Esil. Beneath the thin, white wrapping, clothes were faintly visible.

Rosel gestured at Esil’s tattered clothing with a tilt of his chin.

“Our estate, Rosel Manor, is known for its cleanliness and dignity.

You wouldn’t want to tarnish that reputation by wearing those torn and hole-ridden clothes, would you? These are suitable for a s*ave—change into them.”

With trembling hands, Esil began to unwrap the bundle, her fingers shaking like those of someone with severe tremors.

“…Her hands are trembling a lot.”

“I-I’m sorry…”

Her trembling hands were yet another scar left by the two months of brutal torture.

Whenever she was nervous, her hands shook so badly that even gripping objects was a challenge.

Rosel sighed quietly, ensuring Esil wouldn’t hear.

Every time he spoke, he felt as though another wall was unintentionally being erected between them.

“…I wasn’t asking for an apology. Just hurry and change your clothes.”

“Yes… I’m sorry…”

“…It seems that has also become a habit of yours.”

“I-I’m sorry…”

“…Enough with the apologies, just change. We’ll be there soon.”

At her master’s urging, Esil quickly untied the bundle and took out the clothes. It was a plain gray shirt, with no patterns.

As her master had said, it seemed to suit someone as insignificant as herself.

Holding the clothes, Esil blinked and looked at Rosel.

Rosel tilted his head and asked, “Is there a problem? It should fit well, as I had it tailored to your size.”

He wondered if Esil didn’t like the clothes he had prepared. Esil, misunderstanding his words, hastily apologized.

“Oh… I-I’m sorry…”

“…What now?”

Rosel asked, genuinely not understanding, as he had never had a s*ave before.

But soon, as Esil hastily removed her ragged clothes and exposed her skin, Rosel understood.

Esil had mistakenly thought he was some kind of voyeur.

Rosel quickly closed his eyes, cleared his throat, and crossed his arms, leaning back against the seat.

Then, as if to say he had no such foul tastes, he lightly tilted his head up.

“…If you’re going to take it off, you should at least say so.”

“Oh… I-I’m sorry… I…?”

“Forget it. Just put it on.”

It seemed that there were more hurdles to overcome than just a few.

Well, it didn’t matter to him how many peaks there were in the mountains he had to climb, considering how many years he had been preparing and waiting for this moment.

Perhaps because she had changed clothes frequently in the prison, Esil quickly dressed and then cautiously spoke.

“I-I’m done…”

Rosel slowly opened his eyes, fearing that unexpected skin might show.

Fortunately, it seemed she had dressed properly.

He let out a sigh of relief, relaxed his arms, and checked Esil’s condition.

Though he wanted to dress her in something beautiful, he feared it might lead to more misunderstandings.

Every situation had its stages.

For now, he was satisfied with the plain, colorless pants and top. At least her scars and bruises were no longer visible.

Rosel smiled faintly, nodding in satisfaction, not wanting the estate residents to see her pain.

“You look good, Esil.”

Esil, who didn’t understand the meaning of the compliment, simply lowered her head with an empty expression, as if resigned to everything.

Seeing this, Rosel clicked his tongue and let out a dissatisfied sigh.

It was a sound filled with pity.

“…Soon, you’ll be an old bent woman.”

After a short while, the carriage entered the fertile farmland of Rosel’s estate.

Author’s Note (Postscript):

The name has been changed from Isen to Esil.

After reading more, I realized Isen didn’t have a good ring to it.