The bustling streets of Noctar buzzed as usual, but one man moved with purpose through its winding alleys—Nil, the personal secretary to Ropermahn, the head of the Desert Rose Merchant Guild. He was on a frustrating errand, tasked with finding an elf, as per his master's orders.
Nil had visited the adventurer's guild and even consulted the local underground contacts, but every lead was a dead end. As expected, there were no elves in Noctar. Of course, even if he did manage to find one, it wouldn't be easy to capture them. Elves were notoriously difficult to deal with—unless they were exceptionally weakened or inexperienced, getting hold of one was no simple task.
"Maybe I’ll just kill some time before heading back," Nil mused, a smirk tugging at his lips as his quick mind came up with an excuse.
He wandered aimlessly through the streets until something caught his eye—a group of children, some ragged and dirty, others clean and well-kept, engaged in conversation.
Curious, Nil inched closer, pretending to be just another passerby. As he got closer, he overheard bits of their conversation.
“I’m telling you, if you become Karamy hyung’s slave, you can sleep somewhere warm!” one of the cleaner kids, Matthew, boasted.
“Really?” one of the ragged kids asked, skepticism clear in their voice.
“Yeah! Look at us, we’re clean now!” Matthew proudly showed off.
Nil couldn’t help but be impressed. This Karamy character had quite the operation going—enslaving kids, raising them, and then using them to recruit more. It was a brilliantly self-sustaining system. Karamy was no ordinary slaver, that much was clear.
But as Nil marveled at the genius behind the operation, one of the bigger boys from the ragged group spoke up, his tone defiant.
“Don’t fall for it. Everyone knows slaves just work until they die. They’re all losers, every last one of them.”
At that, one of the twins, Lara, confidently stepped forward, hands on her hips.
“Nuh-uh! Only special people get to be Karamy oppa’s slaves! Even a pretty elf sister is one of his slaves!”
“Hey! Karamy hyung said not to talk about that!” Matthew exclaimed, panic in his voice.
But it was too late. Lara quickly clamped her hands over her mouth, but the damage was done. Nil’s interest was piqued. A shadow loomed over the children as Nil stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with curiosity.
“An elf slave, you say? Tell me more about that.”
Days passed in a repetitive routine for Karamy and Arpia. Every morning, they would eat breakfast, then head to the forest where Arpia would practice shooting arrows until sunset.
Despite the best efforts, it was slow going. Occasionally, Arpia would complain of pain, and they’d have to stop so she could take a swig of the alcohol she’d brought from the tavern. Her elven healing abilities would sober her up quickly, and they’d continue. Training sessions could only progress during the brief window where she was lucid but the spirits within her were still subdued.
It was a tedious and exhausting process, but Arpia never complained, diligently practicing with her bow.
She released another arrow, and though it veered off course, it didn’t bother her as much anymore. At least the arrow flew straight, rather than falling to the ground or soaring into the sky. In just a few days, her shots were more stable—now all she needed was to adjust her aim to hit the target.
‘Good thing Arpia’s starting to enjoy this,’ Karamy thought to himself. At first, she had been reluctant, but her attitude had shifted. Now, whenever she narrowly missed the target, she would sigh in frustration. When the arrows went wayward, she would pout and then adjust her stance with a focused expression.
Although she had no teacher, Arpia quickly learned from her mistakes and improved on her own. Her progress was astounding for someone who was self-taught—calling her progress "remarkable" felt like an understatement.
Karamy watched as Arpia took a deep breath, readying another arrow. Her hands were steadier than before as she pulled the string taut, feeling the flow of the wind. She exhaled softly and held her breath.
At the perfect moment, she released the arrow.
Whoosh!
The arrow sliced through the air with a sharp whistle, moving so fast it seemed to defy gravity. It flew in a straight line, cutting through the wind.
Thwack!
The arrow embedded itself into the tree.
Arpia’s eyes widened in shock.
"I hit it!" she exclaimed, her voice full of disbelief.
"You hit it," Karamy confirmed with a smile.
"I actually hit it!" she repeated, turning to face him, her eyes gleaming with excitement.
"Yes, Arpia. You hit it," he nodded.
“Wait, could it be? Am I actually a natural-born master archer?” Arpia grinned widely, her earlier serious demeanor completely gone.
"It’s a shame," Karamy said, pretending to sigh. "I’ll never get to see the sulking, dejected Arpia who couldn’t shoot a bow anymore."
His teasing caused her to grow silent for a moment. Her cheeks flushed, and she shyly looked away, fidgeting with her hair.
“…Well, you’ll always have that memory. That’s good enough, isn’t it?” she murmured softly.
Oho… that was unexpectedly romantic. Karamy hadn’t expected such words from Arpia. It seemed she had been thinking about what he said before. Perhaps the invisible wall between them had begun to crack a little. Maybe the effort he spent buying all that alcohol hadn’t been in vain after all.
“Hmph! I’m going back to shooting, so don’t distract me,” Arpia said, trying to regain her composure as she picked up her bow again.
Karamy chuckled, watching her. This time, she smiled as she prepared her next shot.
As they made their way back to the city, Arpia was still riding the high of her success. She mimed shooting an arrow, excitedly recounting the moment to Karamy.
"You know that feeling? The one where you just know the arrow’s going to hit the target? I got that feeling, and when I let the arrow fly, it did exactly what I expected!"
Karamy couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. But remember, this is just the beginning. Once you’ve fully mastered this level, we’ll move on to the next step.”
“I know, I know. Can’t I just enjoy this a little bit?” Arpia grumbled, kicking a small rock on the ground as they walked.
For a moment, there was silence between them. Karamy could feel Arpia glancing at him from the side.
“Do you have something to say?” he asked.
“Uh, well… kind of,” Arpia hesitated, her lips twitching as if unsure whether or not to speak. Eventually, she steeled herself and asked cautiously, “Did you… do anything last night while I was asleep?”
Karamy froze. Did she feel it when he touched her ears?
Elves had notoriously sensitive ears, sometimes even functioning as erogenous zones. She had been in pain, so he had stroked her head to comfort her. But then curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he had… touched her ears.
Had she been awake the whole time?
No, if she had been awake, she would have slapped him immediately. She must have been half-conscious, unsure if it was real or a dream.
“I didn’t do anything,” Karamy lied smoothly.
“Really? Hmm… then what was that feeling…?” Arpia mused, tilting her head in confusion. Thankfully, it seemed she bought his story.
They arrived back at the Duke of the Night’s Banquet, preparing to sneak back into the basement as usual. However, something felt off.
The usual patrons were missing.
Instead, the children were huddled together, looking guilty, while Victor stood protectively beside them. Seated at one of the tables was a large man with a hulking frame, accompanied by another man who appeared to be his subordinate.
Karamy recognized them.
Ropermahn, the head of the Desert Rose Merchant Guild, sat at the table, surrounded by his men.
He was the one responsible for capturing Arpia and turning her into a broken shell of her former self in the original story. Now, here he was, at the Duke of the Night’s Banquet.
What could he possibly want?
"Why is everyone standing around like that? It must be exhausting," Karamy commented casually.
"K-Karamy oppa… w-we…," Lara stammered, fidgeting nervously.
It didn’t take long for Karamy to piece things together.
‘They told him about the elf,’ he realized. He had expected this kind of slip-up—children weren’t the best at keeping secrets. He just hadn’t anticipated that it would be Lara and not Matthew who spilled the beans.
“Ah, w-well met. I am Ropermahn, head of the Desert Rose Guild,” Ropermahn stammered, clearly uncomfortable. “You must be the f-famous Slave Reaper. I’ve heard much about you. I had no idea you were in Noctar.”
Karamy chuckled. “I’m honored that someone as esteemed as yourself has heard of me. But what brings you here, sir?”
“I heard that you have an e-elf as a slave… Might that be the one standing beside you?” Ropermahn’s gaze shifted to Arpia, who stood next to Karamy, cloaked in a robe.
There was no point in lying now.
Karamy nodded toward Arpia, who hesitated before pulling back her hood, revealing her golden hair and pointed ears.
“Oh… oh my. An elf indeed,” Ropermahn muttered in awe, his eyes glued to her. Arpia frowned, clearly uncomfortable under his intense scrutiny.
“Lord Ropermahn,” his secretary, Nil, reminded him, snapping him back to attention.
Ropermahn coughed awkwardly and shifted his gaze back to Karamy, attempting to regain his composure.
“Straight to the point, then. Where did you acquire this slave?”
The butterfly’s first flap had caused the winds to arrive.