The Dialectic of Master and Slave - Chapter 137

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.

From the moment she could communicate just by putting on a ring, Jaha had accepted the existence of magic. Even Earth, which was far more technologically advanced than this place, didn’t have that kind of translation device.

“Amazing. Where I lived, there was no magic.”

She confessed first since it seemed like it would be discovered eventually anyway. Jaha wasn’t the type to lie elaborately.

“There isn’t a single mage beyond the sea?”

“No. Instead, technology is advanced, so there’s no particular inconvenience.”

“I see. The world beyond the sea is a mysterious place.”

Rikanan smiled gently and nodded. His attitude was so accepting that it made Jaha’s subtly defensive response seem pointless. Thanks to that, Jaha was the one left flustered instead. Jaha wouldn’t have believed magic existed in this world until she experienced it directly. But this man affirmed a world without magic despite never experiencing it himself.

“You believe what I’m saying?”

Rikanan’s head tilted to one side. His luscious golden hair, as if coated with honey, swayed lightly.

“Why wouldn’t I believe you?”

Jaha was speechless at the handsome man’s natural counter-question. Even if he tried to sell her a jade cutting board with that face, it would become such an eloquent speech that Socrates would weep in defeat—and on top of that, he even spoke beautifully.

Jaha looked at Rikanan with admiring eyes. Like someone accustomed to such reactions, Rikanan didn’t particularly stop her and just smiled quietly.

“You must hear that you’re handsome a lot, right?”

If this world’s aesthetic standards were similar to Earth’s, that should certainly be the case.

“I wonder. No one has ever said such things in front of me before.”

Rikanan responded gently.

She’d naturally assumed he must have heard it to the point of being sick of it, but what kind of nonsense was this? Jaha jumped up as if she’d been wronged.

“Why not? You’re this handsome.”

“Do you think so, Jaha?”

“Yes. The most handsome person I’ve ever seen.”

Do people here have their eyes attached to their feet? What were they doing, not gushing over a hottie like this?

With looks like that, minstrels should be creating songs of praise to spread around, painters should be stepping forward to paint his portrait only to despair that their skills couldn’t possibly capture this face on canvas and break their brushes in frustration, and lords should be constantly waging territorial wars to get their hands on this peerless beauty. Isn’t that how it should work?

Watching Jaha’s expression, which openly displayed her genuine inability to understand, Rikanan burst into low laughter.

“How fortunate. It seems my face suits your taste.”

“Wouldn’t it suit everyone’s taste, not just mine?”

“I don’t care about other people.”

Jaha paused. Did something serious just slip by…?

When she looked over with half-doubt, Rikanan appeared nonchalant.

Jaha’s mind leaned toward having misheard. If she’d heard correctly, that was definitely flirting, but they’d only just met. She wasn’t the protagonist of an otome game—there was no way a handsome man would suddenly hit on her the moment she fell into a fantasy world.

Having reached a clean conclusion, Jaha naturally changed the subject.

“Where are we headed?”

“We’re going home. You look like you haven’t been able to sleep well, so how about getting some rest until we arrive? It may not be the most comfortable environment here, but.”

Despite his modest words, the carriage was spacious and comfortable. Given that she could sleep on the KTX, SRT, or subway if she put her mind to it, there was no reason she couldn’t sleep in a place like this.

The problem was trust. How much could she trust that man?

What if she woke up to find herself on an altar, at a slave auction, or on some crazy wizard’s experiment table?

The probability seemed low, but she didn’t trust him enough or feel comfortable enough to show herself in a completely defenseless state.

Jaha ended up staying awake with her eyes open until they reached their destination.

The mansion they arrived at after about two hours in the carriage was so enormous it couldn’t be taken in at a glance. At first, she thought it was a facility like a museum or art gallery rather than a house. Jaha was shocked when she stuck her head out the window to check the size.

“Does this entire building belong to you, Sir Rikanan?”

“Yes. It’s humble, but please make yourself comfortable.”

If this is humble, then what the hell were all the places I’ve lived up until now?

While Jaha was immersed in doubt, the man who had gotten out of the carriage first extended his hand.

“Take my hand.”

The golden-haired, blue-eyed handsome man offering his white-gloved hand with a gentle smile was a prince straight out of a fairy tale. So typical that he’d probably get criticized for being cliché.

Jaha thanked him and took his hand to get out of the carriage. She could easily get down from this height by herself, but when else would she get an escort from a handsome man if not now?