"Know your place, stupid slave!"
A pretty girl in a flowery dress spoke disdainfully, her delicate face kneaded into a frown to display her annoyance and disgust at the lowly creature kneeling before her.
Her eyes glittered like stars, having a brilliant azure glow in them. As for her lips, they were glossy and soft pink like peaches. Her skin was fair and delicate, like the flowers that decorated her pinkish white outfit. She was adorned in all kinds of jewels, displaying her noble status. Her feet were shrouded by silver-colored heels, and even her hands were wrapped in gloves of the same color.
In her hand was a whip, one she held so delicately that it looked like she was giving it a massage.
She had a small physique, yet her chest was bountiful, barely contained by the small buttons that trapped them within her dress. With long silver-like hair and a very domineering presence, one that sharply contrasted her petite and cute appearance, she stood tall.
In contrast, the one she spoke to was a near seven-foot tall creature with dirty gray-colored skin, black hair, and a messy rag for an outfit. He had dead, rotting flesh, and his emaciated physique told much about his diminished strength.
He was a Zombie.
Not just a Zombie… but a Zombie Slave.
The lady who addressed him so spitefully was his Master, and her indignant attitude—while bratty and highly unnecessary—was seen as a norm in this world.
—The world of Alteir.
"Hmph! What was that back there? Everyone followed their instructions perfectly, but you're too sluggish! You couldn't even do your job as a vanguard properly!" The girl yelled, brandishing her whip as she stared at the Zombie hatefully.
"Aaaam ssssooorrryyy, Maaaasssteeeerrr…"
WHISH!
"Shut up! Who said you could speak?" Her whip lashed against the Zombie's back, creating a mark in an instant. Pieces of his flesh tore open, letting oily black blood ooze out. However, after a few seconds, the wound healed, leaving no traces at all.
The Zombie Slave remained silent, not even flinching despite the injury he just sustained.
As an Undead, he normally wouldn't feel any pain from attacks like this. However, the whip his Master used was an Artifact that allowed even a Zombie like him to feel pain. Despite the agony he suffered from this experience, however, he remained quiet.
He accepted his cruel fate.
"Damnit! Damn all of this!" The Master whipped him some more, venting all of her anger on the powerless Zombie in front of her.
The sharp whip struck his back, slashed apart his face, damaged an eye, tore away his nose. All of these would grow back in time, but that didn't take away the pain he experienced in that moment.
Still… the Zombie endured.
To distract himself from the torture, he cast his vision away from his Master and looked at his fellow Slaves that stood a far distance from him and her. They all occupied another section of the cave, completely leaving the Zombie to his fate.
He couldn't blame them.
After all, none of them could interrupt the beating even if they wanted to.
In the world of Alteir, Masters reigned supreme. They could command Slaves to do anything, and thanks to the Unwritten Codex, Slaves could never harm their Masters. In essence… all of this girl's slaves were powerless to stop her.
Even if they pleaded on his behalf—which they could do—their Master would only transfer her aggression to them. And, unlike him, they could not naturally regenerate.
There were four other Slaves apart from him: a Halfling, a Kobold, a Wolfman, and another human. These four were brought into this Labyrinth by this girl—Lady Imelda, one of the three daughters of a rather rich noble in the region.
"I told daddy to get me better Slaves, but he had to give me trash like you!" She continued to lash out, her pretty face contorted by the ugly expression she currently had. "I'm stuck with the likes of you until I can at least prove myself and get some kind of achievement in this place… damn it all!"
It was all true.
Imelda had always been a spoiled child who was fond of using toys and then discarding them when she got bored. She recently became an adult and decided to become an Explorer, begging her father to purchase slaves for her so she could explore a Labyrinth.
Knowing his own daughter, the wise father chose to give her a total of ten slaves—all of which were of the lowest cadre. If she could maintain them for the duration of three months, and she still had at least one standing, he would consider getting her a slave of higher quality. Of course, if Imelda wanted to quicken the process, she would have to enter a Labyrinth and obtain impressive results.
Not only would this show her father that she was serious about being an Explorer, but it would also display her competence as a Master.
Unfortunately for Imelda, even this proved to be too difficult a task.
'It's been weeks now, and I've barely been able to kill a few Rank 1 Abominations. If only daddy got me better Slaves. No… if I had a better Geist, one suited for fighting, then… sigh, I haven't even passed my first Master's Trial yet, so I can't even be thinking about that…'
Imelda sighed deeply, finally ceasing the whiplash on the poor Zombie slave.
It wasn't because she felt pity for him.
No, she was simply very exhausted. As a noble lady, she had very little strength and stamina, and her Geist didn't particularly make her a powerhouse by any means. In fact, the Zombie weakling in front of her was even stronger than she was.
However… she was a Master.
That made all the difference in this world.
"Rise to your feet," Imelda commanded her slave, and he obeyed instantly.
The other Slaves watched the whole thing, still maintaining their distance—just to ensure their Master didn't notice them and remember their faults in the just-concluded fight with a Rank 2 Abomination.
In that fight, they had lost three slaves, and they used up so many items, yet they still weren't able to defeat the monster. The Rank 2 Abomination escaped, leaving Imelda immensely frustrated.
After all, if she had returned home with a Rank 2 Abomination and still had a few slaves intact, her father would have acknowledged her efforts and fulfilled his promise.
"Stupid, incompetent slaves… they can't do anything right."
Imelda muttered those words, but deep down she knew the truth: it wasn't the fault of the slaves, but her own shortcomings as a Master.
Even with weak soldiers, a great commander could take down a fortress.
Imelda was too inexperienced as a Master, making her give vague or downright incorrect commands in battle. Rather than slowly building up experience by only facing Rank 1 Abominations for at least a month or two, she went after a Rank 2 Abomination and ended up losing very miserably.
'I have only five Slaves left… that's half of what I started out with, and it hasn't even been a full month yet.' Imelda sighed in frustration, slowly reflecting on everything. She genuinely wanted to be an Explorer, since she was inspired by her Aunt, one of the Nation's top Explorers.
'When can I become great like that?'
She knew it wasn't anytime soon, especially with her current situation. As such, she couldn't help but sigh once again, casting a silent gaze on the Zombie in front of her.
"Looks like you lost your sword. Here, have this."
She brought out a normal-looking blade from a subspace. This was her Geist, [Pocket World], which allowed her to store up to ten inanimate objects in a secluded space that only she had access to.
The sword was one of the objects there.
The Zombie accepted the weapon, having a dazed expression on his face. He appeared confused, almost like he couldn't understand what was happening. Imelda watched this and felt furious, but she controlled her anger.
"We should leave this place now. Going further down will only bring us face-to-face with the Rank 2 Abomination again, and I don't think we're equipped to handle such a beast," She continued with a spiteful expression. "Such a shame… we actually injured it back then."
"Whaaaat iissss thissss?"
"Huh?"
"Wheeerreeee theeeee fucccckkk aammmm Iiiii?" The Zombie's slow speech was difficult to comprehend, but the disrespect hidden in his bewildered tone, and the fact that he spoke without permission, irked her to the core.
Imelda could no longer control herself.
"You dirty little Slave!" She brandished her whip once more, ready to punish the foolish Zombie for not knowing his place.
However—
SWISH!
—Something unexpected happened at that moment.
The Zombie, in a perplexing act of fright, reflexively moved his arm to defend himself from the whip. The same arm that wielded the sword that Imelda gave him. Unknowingly, he had swung the blade, altering the whip's trajectory and slicing the throat of the unsuspecting Master.
"H-huh?" Imelda was stunned.
"Eh?" The other Slaves were also surprised.
"Ah…?" The Zombie was the most shocked.
Red ichor sprayed out of Imelda's delicate throat as she collapsed on the ground, tears forming in her eyes while her face maintained an intense mix of bewilderment and pain.
She couldn't scream, and barely had the time to cry.
Her lips could only move for a few seconds, with her dying eyes fixed on the Zombie.
"Y-you're… not my slave…?"
Those were Imelda's last words before she perished, leaving a pool of blood beneath her, and five spectators who were left completely befuddled regarding her sudden death.
The tip.
Just the tip of a Zombie's blade… had killed her.
[Congratulations, Successor!]
{You have fulfilled all the conditions and awakened the Sovereign Undying Body. Even as a lowly Slave, you now have the power to rise above and ascend to the realm of the Sovereigns}
~But first… you must survive!~