Volume 1 Chapter 5 Slave Girl Lena 4️⃣
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
After finishing our meal, I stood up and began walking toward the room.
On the way, I cast a quick glance at Lena. She had her hands resting softly over her stomach, a faint smile blooming on her lips. It was a small, almost imperceptible change—but without a doubt, it was the happiest expression I’d seen on her face since we met.
People are simple beings. A warm meal can be enough to make someone feel human again. But seeing how thin her body was, I couldn’t help but wonder… had she never experienced even that kind of comfort before?
The thought weighed heavily on my chest.
──From now on, I’ll make sure she eats well. Every day.
With that silent vow etched into my heart, I climbed the stairs.
* * *
The room was modest and plain—exactly what you’d expect from a cheap inn frequented by adventurers. The walls were simple wood, a pair of beds sat on either side, and only a small table with two chairs filled the space. A door in the back likely led to the bath.
I took a seat at the edge of the bed. Lena stood just inside the doorway, as if claiming it as her rightful place to stand.
She’s doing it again…
I wanted to tell her to relax, but I had no idea how.
Now that I thought about it… I really didn’t know how to interact with someone like her.
It wasn’t just that I’d never had a slave before. I’d never even seen one up close, let alone spoken with one. My own experience being a slave didn’t help either—it had been… a rather *unusual* situation. Not something I could compare to hers.
I looked at her again and grimaced.
Her hair was oily and matted. Her skin was caked with dirt. The ragged, rough-spun tunic she wore looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in weeks.
I couldn’t let her stay like this.
”Lena, let’s get you into the bath.”
”Eh…? A… bath?”
She flinched the moment I spoke.
”Yeah. This place has one, thankfully.”
She hesitated, her eyes drifting downward as if in thought. Then, with that flat, distant voice of hers, she spoke.
”Understood. This unworthy body is unfit to be seen… but if it is acceptable to you…”
Her hands moved to the hem of her tunic.
”Huh—?”
For a moment I was too stunned to react, then I quickly held out my hand.
”N-No, wait! That’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean for us to bathe together.”
”…You didn’t?”
”No! You go first. I’ll wait.”
She paused, then slowly shook her head.
”I am… very dirty. Please, Master, you should go first.”
The back-and-forth went on for a while before we finally agreed to take turns.
…Dealing with a slave is more complicated than I expected.
* * *
”I have finished… with the bath.”
When she emerged, I was struck silent.
Gone was the greasy hair, now smooth and flowing, glistening black under the soft light. Her brown skin, though still unnaturally pale, had begun to show signs of life. Despite the modesty of her tunic, it was obvious—she was beautiful.
If not for her skeletal frame, the scars on her limbs, and the eye she kept hidden beneath her hair… she could have passed for a noble’s daughter.
And yet—
”I am deeply grateful. To be allowed something as luxurious as a bath… Thank you, Master.”
Her voice was polite. Too polite. Her words felt heavy, like shackles she wore not just on her neck, but deep within her heart.
That humility wasn’t the kind that earns sympathy. It was the kind that erases a person.
Even slaves usually acted with some self-worth—whether they were trying to please their master, show loyalty, or earn favor. But Lena… she didn’t show any of that.
It was like she had already decided she had no value at all.
And I knew why.
The scars running across her arms and legs. The crushed left eye hidden beneath her bangs. The pain she must’ve gone through to end up like this—I couldn’t even begin to imagine.
No doubt she was discarded. Sold for a pittance. Bought by that disgusting, bald village head and likely treated no better than livestock.
It made sense that she would think so little of herself.
”…Lena. Come here.”
I gestured for her to approach.
”Yes…”
She stepped forward and stood in front of me.
”Take off your clothes.”
The words left my mouth before I could second-guess them.
This wasn’t about shame or desire.
It was about helping her face the weight she carried.
* * *
”Is that… an order?”
”Yes.”
”…Understood.”
For just a moment, something flickered in her eyes—fear, sorrow—but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. She nodded, reached for the hem of her tunic, and slipped it off in one motion.
Her undergarments followed.
Only the black collar remained.
She stood there, exposed beneath the soft light. Her body was lean, frail, and covered in scars. From her left shoulder ran three slashes, etched into her skin as if carved by a beast, stretching across her chest and down to her waist. Her arms and legs bore countless old wounds—cuts, bites, bruises—testament to years of suffering.
There were newer marks, too. Discoloration. Welts. Evidence of blunt trauma. The unmistakable signs of a recent beating.
The only untouched part of her body was her lower abdomen, pale and delicate, untouched by violence—perhaps the only part of her that hadn’t been claimed by pain.
”…Unbelievable.”
The word slipped from my mouth before I could stop it.
She lowered her head, her small fists clenched.
”…If… if this body is acceptable… then… please…”
Her voice trembled, but she forced the words out.
”…You may use me however you wish.”
I stood up.
”Eh—!?”
She gasped as I reached out and gently lifted the hair that covered her face.
As I expected—her expression was twisted with shame and despair.
”Please… I’ll do anything… just don’t look at this ugly face…”
Tears welled up in her one remaining eye. She couldn’t hold them back anymore.
Even so—
”Lena. Look at me.”
”…Yes.”
With a trembling breath, she looked up. Her eye met mine.
”I’m not going to use you. I’m not going to treat you like a slave.”
Her eye widened.
”Wh… what…?”
”I want to help you.”
”…Help me…?”
She stared at me, stunned, struggling to process the words.
”If you wish… I can restore your body.”
Her lips parted in disbelief.
”…That’s not possible…”
”It is. If you truly want it, and if you trust me… I can try.”
”…You can’t be serious…”
She looked at me like I was a ghost. Like I’d said something forbidden.
I met her gaze, calm and steady.
”Lena. Do you believe in me?”
Notes:
• Lena – Female. A young slave girl in her early teens. Her appearance is emaciated with brown skin, long black hair, and grotesque scars across her face, including one that blinds her left eye. She wears a black collar and tattered clothing. Her relationship to the protagonist is that of a rescued victim. She is silent and appears to have endured severe physical and emotional abuse.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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