The Dialectic of Master and Slave - Chapter 144

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.

“They were tasty, but with so many other delicious options, I guess I just didn’t prioritize them. That’s all.”

“I see.”

Rikanan’s nod carried a peculiar expression.

After that, cheese cookies never appeared on the tea table again.

Madame Marie, the tutor, was an exceedingly cultured middle-aged woman. Just like Rikanan, she was the type where the word “aristocrat” naturally came to mind just by looking at her.

Jaha learned the imperial language, basic common knowledge, and etiquette from Madame Marie.

Madame Marie was an exceptionally skilled teacher and possessed remarkable patience. Teaching Jaha—who knew nothing about this world—was akin to creating something from nothing, yet she never once complained and saw the arduous process through.

That said, Madame Marie wasn’t soft-spoken by any means. Though she never raised her voice or lost her temper, she maintained an elegant smile while mercilessly drilling Jaha without batting an eye.

“Ugh, when will I ever finish all this?”

Jaha clutched her head as she looked at the mountain of assignments. Who would’ve thought she’d be stuck at a desk like this, rivaling her exam-prep days from years ago? She’d rather be working overtime.

“No computers make everything so inconvenient.”

After being used to typing away on a keyboard, having to write everything by hand overnight was driving her crazy.

“Please, just give me a desktop computer—no, even a laptop would do. If not that, at least a tablet with a dedicated pen.”

At the very least, she wouldn’t have to deal with ink stains on her hands.

Grumbling all the while, Jaha still pushed through her assignments one by one. Though her brain and stamina weren’t what they used to be, she managed well enough once she got into it.

History study, in particular, felt like reading a fantasy novel, which made it quite enjoyable. With mages, knights, dragons, priests, and demons appearing in the texts, how could it not be fun?

“Let’s see, imperial history starts from the second chapter, right?”

There was one peculiar thing about the empire’s history.

In most founding myths, the progenitor is either a god, a descendant of gods, or some other extraordinary being. Even Korea’s founder, Dangun Wanggeom, was born from Hwanung—the son of the heavenly god Hwanin—and a bear-woman, Ungnyeo.

Naturally, Jaha had assumed the empire’s founder would be something like a divine incarnation, a half-angel hybrid, or a descendant of dragons. But the empire’s progenitor—its first emperor—was no being of noble bloodline. He was simply human.

What set him apart was his extraordinary ability.

Abrixa, the first mage.

That’s right. The empire’s founding emperor was the one who created magic. That’s why all descendants of his bloodline were formidable mages.

Even after thousands of years of dilution, not a single direct imperial descendant existed without magical ability—proof of just how immense his power must have been.

And the defining trait of this “Abrixa”? His violet eyes.

Historical records described them as an exceptionally vivid purple.

Every single one of his direct descendants—the imperial family—was born with those same violet-tinged eyes, without exception. While hair colors occasionally varied, the eye color never once deviated. A fascinating phenomenon.

“The stronger the imperial bloodline’s magic, the more vivid their purple eyes become, that’s why people say if magic had a color, it would be purple.”

Jaha recalled Rikanan’s words from days earlier and lifted her gaze from the book.

‘So Rikanan definitely isn’t a direct imperial descendant.’

His eyes held not a trace of purple—just a clear, icy blue. After all, purple required a mix of red and blue, and his lacked even a hint of red.

“Just who is Rikanan?”

His high status was undeniable. When they’d crossed paths in the hallway, even Madame Marie—a noble herself—had bowed with excessive deference, as if greeting royalty.

Jaha had vaguely assumed they were both aristocrats, but witnessing such a stark hierarchy left her unsettled. Now, she couldn’t help but wonder: What position does this young, beautiful mansion owner hold?

“I should’ve paid closer attention back then.”

When they first met, Rikanan had revealed his full name. If only she had remembered his family name from that moment, she might have had a clue by now.

Taking a brief break to rest her eyes, Jaha returned to her reading. She had to finish the book and write a reflection before dawn. If she didn’t focus, she might truly have to pull an all-nighter.

How much time had passed since she began wrestling with imperial history?

With only the final chapter left, drowsiness slowly crept in, and Jaha rubbed her tired eyes.

“Madame Marie, this is too much homework.”

Who would’ve thought that at her age, she’d be losing sleep and sitting in a chair until her legs cramped—not for medical school or some grand ambition, but for this? A sudden wave of self-pity washed over her.