Tamed A Blackened Slave Man

Damian twisted up the corner of his lip into a crooked smile. Unlike Cassadin’s cold attitude, Damian seemed to be enjoying this situation.

Tilting his head to the side in front of the man who had his sword trained at his throat, Damian then spoke.

“Is it because you overestimate your skills that you say such things to an opponent you are unable to kill? Or…”

Eyes curving into an arch, he continued.

“Is it for Aren?”

When Aren’s name was mentioned once more by Damian, an attack that made all of his precious movements look like a child’s play flew towards Damian.

The swinging sword barely grazed past Damian’s vital organ. Had Damian been even a bit lazy in his training, he would actually have been beheaded just then.

“…Ahahahahah!”

Seeing Cassadin glare at him with an intent to rip him into shreds, Damian burst into laughter.

It was laughter that came from the gleeful joy of obtaining the weakness of the man standing in front of him.

The sounds of the two men’s blades clashing rang throughout the arena. Their swordsmanship was something beyond the plane of normal human beings, as the movement of their swords was faster than what the eye could follow.

Countless people were watching this match, but the crowd was silent as if they had forgotten how to breathe.

Beneath the heavy silence, only two people were breathing and moving.

When the host then snapped back into his senses, he attempted to resume his commentary of the match, but bowed and shut his mouth after the Emperor gave him a silent look.

The first time Damian’s smile cracked was when Cassadin’s blade came into contact with his cheek.

Scratch!

At the same time, crimson liquid spewed out of his cheek, and the smile on Damian’s face disappeared.

“You’re lucky to have your sword even touch me.”

When an ugly wound was created on his porcelain skin, Damian scowled as he repositioned his grip on the sword and supported it with his other hand.

Now holding the broadsword with two hands, Damian swung the blade towards Cassadin’s throat. With the sharp sound of metal cutting through the air, his attack flew down towards Cassadin.

“……!”

He was certain that the attack had made contact, but Cassadin was already gone. Damian glanced around himself hurriedly.

Just then, a sinister voice came from behind Damian’s back.

“Do you truly think it is luck?”

Damian swung his sword behind him towards the spot where Cassadin’s voice had come from.

Clang!

Cassadin had blocked Damian’s attack with just a single hand. Unlike Damian, who was using two hands to hold his broadsword, Cassadin was using just one.

After clashing swords with Cassadin once more, Damian’s eyes narrowed. Because he strove for perfection in his swordsmanship, he could also estimate the strength of the opponent when they collided head-on like now.

‘What kind of monster is this?’

But Cassadin was currently overpowering his broadsword with a single dull sword. Even when he was no longer feeling the pain from his heart condition.

Not to mention that this man looked unbelievably indifferent even as he was overpowering him.

Damian didn’t like that expression on his face. How dare a mere slave look down on him like that?

No matter how prestigious a noble Cassadin had been before, he was just a slave now.

So how could he dare look down on him with an expression that seemed higher than that of the Emperor?

Damian gritted his teeth. Seeing the man’s crumpled expression, Cassadin remarked coldly.

“I’ve gone easy on you. As I am doing right now as well.”

That single sentence solved all of Damian’s questions.

‘I’ve come to suggest a deal with Your Grace.’

He called it a ‘deal’ to trick him. So the reason why he had asked to clash swords…

‘On the day of the Founding Day Festival, may you hold a duel with me?’

He was certain that Cassadin had lured him into this competition in order to display this dramatic moment where he won against Damian.

Feeling the puzzle pieces start to fit together inside his head, a fury that could not be described with words started to surge up within Damian.

“…Damned bastard. So this has been your plan all along.”

Damian’s hands trembled from rage as he held onto the sword.

“Why don’t you lower that bloody pride of yours first?”

Cassadin’s icy cold voice fell into Damian’s ears.

Above all, he couldn’t accept the fact that Cassadin’s swordsmanship skills were superior to his. Because he had lived his entire life believing that there was no one else better than him, at least in sword fighting.

Damian felt his insides churn. The anger and envy of his inferiority were swallowing him whole.

And that was when Damian’s heart condition made its reappearance.

It had been the moment when it had been exactly a week since Aren had healed his disease, and also because he had failed to keep control of his emotions.

The pain that had been locked away for a week swarmed Damian at once.

Not knowing that Aren had manipulated his disease, Damian could only clutch onto his heart and breathe heavily.

“Cough!”

His hands started to tremble, and then the sword he had been holding clattered onto the ground.

C-clang!

Its sharp, metallic sound rang out into the arena. Cassadin also narrowed his eyes in confusion at the man’s sudden behavior.

“What happened to His Grace all of a sudden?”

“Maybe it’s…!”

“The heart disease rumor that’s been going around…?”

The spectators also started to murmur amongst themselves as they stared at Damian drop his sword.

Damian glared up at Cassadin with bloodshot eyes. Returning that gaze with a dry one, Cassadin withdrew his sword.

Towards that man, Damian clenched his jaw tighter and barely managed to muster out a couple of words.

“To think I lost to something like you.”

“……”

“Damn it…”

His face contorted in pain.

‘Your Grace’s condition is not one that can be fully cured in just one session. The state of the disease has already progressed too far.’

The words that Aren had said to him suddenly passed through his mind.

Feeling his consciousness fade away, Damian gazed up at the royal seats where Aren was seated.

Maybe it was because of the fog that clouded his mind, but Damian felt as though this moment was a dream.

In his eyes, Aren seemed like his savior. The one and only person in this world who was able to cure his heart disease.

To Damian, who had only seen people as tools until now, he was finally able to see Aren’s face.

Platinum hair that seemed to be woven from the stars and her long eyelashes. Under them were eyes that contained a calm, tranquil lake. Her lips were bright and pink, like they had just bitten into a newly bloomed rose.

Even as his vision faded into the darkness, he could see the woman clearly in his eyes.

‘…Had she always looked that way?’

She seemed like a fallen morning star that would crumble away when touched. She resembled an evening primrose that only bloomed at night, while also seeming like a wistful forget-me-not.

For some reason, Damian could not take his gaze off of Aren.

It felt like time had stopped at that moment.

Inside that frozen time, Damian could only stare up at Aren as he clenched his heart.

Making eye contact with Damian, Aren’s eyes widened in surprise.

It had been an expression she had fabricated in order for Damian not to realize she had manipulated his heart disease. But unable to make proper observations at the moment, Damian had no way of knowing that.

Just then, Cassadin approached the kneeling man. Lowering his body to lean into Damian’s ear, Cassadin muttered ominously into Damian’s ear.

“The moment you harm even a single hair of her, you will beg me for mercy.”

Hearing what could only be compared to the sound that came from the deep depths of caves, Damian turned his head and looked at Cassadin.

“So do not dare long for her, nor look at her. It will be better for your well-being that you forget what you have just seen.”

Cassadin was staring down at him with apathy as he added this on, but there was an endless obsession for Aren contained within his words.

After seeing Cassadin’s face, Damian smirked as he responded.

“…Return Kindel to my mansion as you have promised.”

With those final words, Damian fell unconscious on the spot.

The arena fell silent, as if a storm had passed. The host, who had been frozen in awe, then slapped his cheek with his hand and loudly announced the winner.

“…S-Since the Grand Duke has been rendered incapable of fighting, the winner of the 34^th Fighting Competition is… The Black Robe!”

Starting with the applause of one person, soon everyone began to cheer and clap.

The Emperor gazed at Cassadin with a content expression, then ordered several of the knights to send medical help to Damian.

“Send one of the imperial doctors to attend to Damian.”

“Yes. Your Majesty.”

Rising from his seat, he started to walk down towards the arena stage where Cassadin was standing. Behind him followed several more imperial knights.

When the Emperor got up, everyone in the arena bowed their heads and showed their respect.

Cassadin also put down the sword in his hand and had his head bowed.

Finally arriving in front of Cassadin, the Emperor opened his mouth.

“Raise your head.”

At his command, Cassadin raised his lowered head. The Emperor’s golden eyes and Cassadin’s purple ones met together in the air.

Seeing Cassadin’s face up close, the Emperor seemed genuinely surprised. He had thought the man seemed handsome from afar, but from this distance, Cassadin seemed like he was created from the souls of Gods themselves.

Would the man who was being praised as the face of the Gods in his kingdom also be this handsome?

But no matter how he looked, he couldn’t possibly be compared to the man who was standing in front of him now.

Staring at Cassadin with a pleased expression, the Emperor spoke.

“I’ve enjoyed your match. I must say that it was the most remarkable fight I have seen in all of the competitions I have watched.”

“It is my honor, Your Majesty.”

“Before I bestow upon you your prize, what is your name?”

Keeping quiet for a moment at the Emperor’s question, Cassadin then answered him.

“My name is Cassadin, Your Majesty.”

“Cassadin, you say.”

The Emperor repeated his name, then realized something was strange. If he had recalled correctly, the man praised for having the beauty of Gods also had that same name.

That man, who had been brought into the Earl’s house as their son in the past as a gladiator slave. The Serkia Family, to be exact.

“Are you the owner of the rumor that has been spreading throughout the Empire as of recent? The man who was adopted into the Earl Serkia family with the face of Gods?”

“…That is incredibly flattering.”

“Hahahah!”

The Emperor burst into laughter. He had been wanting to meet the man who had been causing such a ruckus among the people, but he didn’t imagine that he would meet him in such a way.

“But the rumors I have heard claimed your hair was silver, however, your hair is black.”

“I’m afraid that is because I have intentionally used hair dye, as I did not want to alter the others’ insight of me through exaggerated rumors.”

The Emperor could feel his lips curl up at Cassadin’s response. His swordsmanship skills were one thing, but every single word that this man uttered was just what the Emperor wanted to hear.

“What is it that you wish for? Since you have won, you will be rewarded.”

He smiled at Cassadin with a satisfied expression, telling him to say what he wanted. Cassadin then bowed and paid his respects before speaking.

“Before I say what I wish for, I have one thing to tell Your Majesty.”

“What is it?”

“I am no longer part of the Earl Serkia Family.”

“!”

The Emperor’s eyes widened at Cassadin’s announcement. This was his first time hearing this.

“Does that mean you left the Earl’s family?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“What was the reason?”

“It was in order to prevent any harm from being directed at the Earl’s family because of me. I could no longer burden those who took me in with my status as a slave.”

Pausing on purpose, Cassadin then added,

“Because I have left the family, I currently hold the status of a slave.”

The Emperor was inspecting Cassadin with interest. He was clearly not an ordinary man. He was beginning to think it was too much of a shame for such a man to be left a slave.

Not to mention, he had just completely overpowered Damian, whom he considered a thorn in his side.

“So, what is it that you want? A title?”

“…Please give me the best thing that Your Majesty can provide.”

It was the imperial knights who had been standing beside the Emperor who reacted to Cassadin’s request.

“Look at this heathen! How dare he speak to His Majesty in such a way!”

The one who stopped those knights was the Emperor. When the Emperor raised his hand as a signal for them to stop, the knights bowed their heads and retreated.

“The best I can provide?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

‘Oh, what is this now?’

Eyes narrowing, he then asked Cassadin a testing question.

“You are the first winner to request such a bold wish. If I give such things to you, what can you give to me in return?”

To the Emperor’s question, Cassadin smiled as he answered.

“Whatever it is Your Majesty wants, I will provide tenfold of what Your Majesty asks for.”