The Dialectic of Master and Slave - Chapter 104

Volumes 1-4 + Side Stories of DMS are available uncensored on ko-fi! ※ This work contains depictions of coercive relationships, explicit language, and other graphic content. Reader discretion is advised.

Robes so lavish that anyone would recognize his status at a glance, an entourage in tow. Blindingly radiant golden hair. Amethyst—or perhaps demon-like—purple eyes.

The Emperor walked toward them, neither too fast nor too slow. His movements were so deliberate, they could have been a carefully staged scene from a film. Not even the strictest etiquette instructor could have found fault in his bearing.

So this man really was nobility, after all.

It was absurd, but a chilling thought crept in, utterly out of place in this situation.

The silence was too deep—unnaturally so. It wasn’t just quiet; it was the kind of stillness that came from something being forcibly suppressed. She almost wished he would lose control and lash out violently instead.

But the Emperor was too, too calm. Like the eye of a storm.

His footsteps stopped right in front of Cedric, who was pinned to the ground as if crushed by some invisible force. The Emperor gazed down at him for a moment before placing his foot on Cedric’s back. Then, slowly, he pressed down.

“Ugh—!”

A pained cry burst from Cedric’s lips. Without so much as a blink, the Emperor increased the pressure, grinding his sole against Cedric’s spine like extinguishing a cigarette. His demeanor was eerily casual, as if he were merely crushing an insignificant insect.

Jaha’s face paled. If this continued, she could already imagine what would become of Cedric. But what could a mere slave do to stop the Emperor?

Just as she was torn over what to do—

“Well, well. Look who we have here.”

An unsettlingly serene voice flowed from the Emperor, completely at odds with the scene before them.

“It’s been a while… Prince Cedric.”

Jaha’s mind froze, as if buffering. That unexpected word—Prince?—had come out of nowhere.

…Prince?

What in the world—?

“It seems the fallen prince has found slavery unexpectedly suited to his tastes. Rather than biting his tongue and dying, he’s adapted and lived quite well, I see.”

The Emperor sneered as he kicked Cedric in the side with the top of his foot. Cedric rolled weakly across the floor.

Jaha’s hand, covering her mouth, trembled slightly.

Had Cedric’s country been conquered by the Emperor, leading to its ruin? So Cedric had been stripped of his princely status, dragged to the empire, and reduced to slavery?

The Emperor’s words left no other interpretation.

Though confused by the sudden revelation of Cedric’s identity, a part of her understood.

Cedric was different from ordinary slaves. His speech, his way of thinking, even his ingrained mannerisms were foreign. His well-proportioned, handsome features exuded nobility.

Jaha couldn’t begin to imagine Cedric’s state of mind. Even she, a commoner, had tasted immense deprivation after becoming a slave—how much worse must it have been for him, a prince, living under the enemy who invaded his country?

Her body trembled with an inexplicable chill.

“You should have stayed quiet and out of sight as much as possible. Testing my patience like this only makes me lose any desire to keep you alive, Prince.”

The Emperor spoke calmly, pressing his shoe against Cedric’s head.

Jaha realized the Emperor had decided to kill Cedric. She had no concrete proof, but she could sense it from the Emperor’s demeanor.

Her mind blank, Jaha prostrated herself on the floor. She felt the Emperor’s gaze turn toward her.

“Your Majesty.”

She managed to speak, but what should she say next?

No coherent thoughts came to mind.

Her tongue floundered like an engine spinning in neutral.

“If you call for me, you should speak.”

The Emperor pressed her with a deceptively gentle tone. Of course, Jaha wasn’t foolish enough to be lulled into complacency by it. The Emperor was angry with her—just as much as he was with Cedric, if not more.

Cold sweat poured down her back like rain.

How dare she try to save someone else when her own nose is barely above water?

Jaha’s goal was to return safely to Earth. For the sake of her parents, who must be waiting desperately, she had to survive unscathed. She had vowed to turn a blind eye to any injustice and prioritize her own safety. Yet she couldn’t just stand by.

It had been Jaha who proposed this secret meeting.

She was the one who asked Cedric to come, and he had simply agreed.

She was the one who sought comfort and validation from him, the one who had wanted to kiss him.

The responsibility for this situation lay entirely with her.

Though she knew the safest course was to play dead and stay silent, Jaha couldn’t bring herself to ignore Cedric’s impending death—not when it was her fault.

She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them and spoke.

“The fault is mine. Punish me instead.”