Meanwhile, in the palace's intelligence chamber, where thousands of slave contracts were stored and monitored.

  "Hmm... Why is the light on this contract dimming? How strange," muttered an officer, scratching his head in confusion.

  He flipped through the contract paper, examining every inch of its magical seal, but found no cause. The light flickered weakly, as if its life force was being forcibly drained, yet not completely extinguished. Panicked, he hurried toward his superior's office.

  "BOSS! Uh... where's the Boss?"

  Since his boss wasn't in the room, he ran around searching for his superior's whereabouts.

  His boss was a Master-Class Mage—one rank below Grandmaster—and the architect behind these thousands of slave contracts.

  After circling about, he finally didn't find his boss in the main corridor.

  "Where is this Boss? He always disappears when needed!" he grumbled irritably.

  Behind him, a senior patted his shoulder. He recounted the anomaly to his senior, and they decided to search for their boss together. Their search ended when they found the Master Mage relaxing in his private office.

  "BOOOOSS! There's something strange with one of the slave contracts!" the young officer shouted loudly, bursting through the door.

  The Master Mage glared, annoyed at having his leisure time disturbed. "What's strange?"

  "Look at this!" The officer pointed at the slave contract he held with trembling hands.

  His boss's initially calm expression flushed red with anger.

  He looked at the contract. Its light was steady. Bright as usual.

  "Are you mocking me?" his boss hissed.

  "Calm down, Boss," the senior interjected, defending his colleague. "I saw it too earlier. It really dimmed."

  "Saw what?! There's nothing unusual there!" his boss snapped.

  "I swear, Boss! The slave contract dimmed earlier!"

  "Ha... You're joking, right?" The Master Mage's eyes bulged, his patience exhausted. "You two, I'm punishing you! Sunbathe in the yard until I'm satisfied!" he shouted, pointing toward the exit.

  The two officers didn't dare argue and left with pale faces.

  After his subordinates left, the Master Mage sat back down. He stared at the contract in silence. His brow furrowed deeply. He pondered why the contract could have been reported as dimming yet returned to normal without a trace.

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  "No magical feedback... but why?" he murmured, sensing a vague foreboding creep up his spine.

  Back to Aister's location.

  Silence hung for a moment after my sword touched the thread of light binding her. I thought she would remain still.

  Suddenly, that slave woman moved. She didn't attack me, but instead roughly grabbed my collar and threw my body aside like trash.

  "Grrrraaahhh!"

  I tumbled to the ground, coughing. When I turned my head, the Beastwoman was already charging toward the Espinas Mortales.

  That fight was truly fierce. The Beastwoman moved wildly, trading blows with the Titan monster. Though she was far smaller, her agility was extraordinary.

  Finally, with a desperate leap, the tiger woman managed to sever the monster's iron horn.

  CRAAAKK!

  The monster roared in pain, staggering backward from loss of balance. The tiger woman managed to corner the monster near where I had fallen.

  I knew this was my only chance.

  Yardorh's line of light on the monster's face was clearly exposed. I mustered my courage, gripped my sword's hilt tightly, and leaped. The monster was too focused on the tiger woman to notice me.

  SLASH!

  My slash landed true. My sword cut through the creature's head as easily as slicing warm butter. I was stunned for a moment. Was this because of the power Yardorh granted, or was that "Line" truly the monster's weakest point?

  The massive head thudded to the ground. The monster died instantly.

  However, the threat wasn't over.

  The tiger Beastwoman slave turned around. Her breath came in gasps. She limped toward me, dragging her greatsword across the rocky ground.

  Her eyes were no longer empty like a puppet's—they were filled with pure hatred, the hatred of a predator just freed from its cage.

  My heart stopped.

  "Protect me!" I shouted to the other slaves.

  But it was futile. My eyes swept around in panic. The other slaves were too far away, held back by the earlier battle terrain. No one could reach me in time.

  The Beastwoman stood towering before me. She raised her sword high. The shadow of its massive blade covered my face, ready to split my body in two.

  "Die..." she hissed softly.

  My mind raced like lightning in pure panic. What should I do? Run? No time! Parry? Insane—her strength could withstand a Titan!

  My eyes desperately searched for the "Line" on her body. Where?! Where was her weakness point?!

  Nothing. I couldn't focus. Fear blurred my vision. I realized I had just unleashed a monster more terrifying than the Titan. I had created my own killer.

  I was going to die. Here. How absurd.

  Just as the sword began its downward arc, a flash of magical runes suddenly appeared on the slave's back. Glowing brightly.

  "ARGHHH!"

  The slave's movement halted instantly, as if an invisible hand held her in mid-air. Her sword stopped. Her body stiffened rigidly. The surge of emotion that had blazed in her eyes slowly dimmed, faded, and returned to empty hollowness.

  She collapsed, unconscious.

  I fell back, sitting down, gasping for air, nearly forgetting how to breathe. Cold sweat soaked my entire body.

  Without wasting time, I ordered the two newly arrived slaves to carry the Beastwoman slave and Slave Number 4, who had been thrown earlier at the start. Meanwhile, the spear-wielding slave had killed the bandits who came because of the monster's commotion.

  "Fall back! We're leaving here, now!"

  We moved quickly. Thanks to the power of Yardorh's Eye, I managed to see a safe escape route. Lines of light guided me through forest gaps, avoiding pursuit from remaining bandits and other Espinas Mortales territories.

  Upon reaching the village, we didn't dare linger to keep the village safe from any remaining bandit pursuit. We immediately hurried away.

  Once again, Yardorh's power saved our lives. We successfully evaded the bandits.

  Inside the gently rocking carriage, I stared at the unconscious Beastwoman slave's hand. My thoughts churned violently, torn between fear and deadly curiosity.

  "Should I try cutting one of my other slaves?" I thought, my hand trembling on my sword's hilt. "I need to know... was that just coincidence?"

  My gaze shifted to the injured Slave Number 4.

  If I severed his line now, what would happen?

  The urge to experiment was so strong. Curiosity as Yardorh's power holder pressed me. But then, the image of the Beastwoman's hate-filled eyes haunted me again.

  Who could guarantee Number 4 wouldn't immediately snap my neck upon awakening?

  The risk was too great. Our physical difference was too vast. He was thrown that hard by a Titan yet only suffered minor injuries and unconsciousness. Their bones were like steel. If his contract broke and he attacked, I was finished.

  I shook my head, banishing that insane thought. My hand released the sword hilt.

  "No. Don't be foolish, Aister. You only have one life," I decided inwardly. "Better find another target. Maybe I can find a cheap slave or a criminal in Villa del Río Alto later to experiment with cutting that line. But not with my own guards."