“Let me spell it out for you, Flum. All slaves in the kingdom must bear the mark of a slave somewhere on their body. And that is what this is. There are probably easier ways to do this, but I decided branding you was the only way I could get my true feelings through to you. What do you think? Pretty nice, huh?”
Everything Jean said was true. A slave’s mark needed to be visible at all times, but it didn’t need to be branded on their skin. That he was about to put this chunk of glowing red metal on Flum’s cheek was nothing short of his own twisted, personal desire.
“St-stop! I don’t want to be a slave!”
“You’ve no say in this.”
“This is wrong, Jean! What gives you the right to make me a slave?!”
The laws of the kingdom forbade forcing an innocent citizen into slavery. This could only mean one thing: that the man standing in front of her was a black marketeer. He had already prepared all the necessary tools to complete her transition into slavery as soon as she was branded.
“…What gives me the right?” Jean’s face contorted with barely controlled rage. “Do you have any idea what you’ve put us all through, you little bi… Grah! If it weren’t for you, we would have been well on our way to the Demon Lord by now! Your very existence has done nothing but hold us back and undermine all of my well-laid plans. You’re nothing more than a commoner, a talentless heap of cannon fodder! Why won’t you just take responsibility for your sins?!”
“Does…does the rest of the party know about this? I may be useless, but I didn’t exactly choose to be here, you know! I was chosen, whether I wanted to be or not!”
“They know. Of course they do.”
“You’re lying! Are you saying that Eterna and Gadhio didn’t even try to stop you??” Flum couldn’t imagine her two recent shopping companions so easily agreeing to this idea.
Jean put an end to that fantasy. “Oh, they hesitated, sure. But they ultimately agreed it was for the best. All in the name of taking down the Demon Lord, you know. Besides, let’s face it, you were a greater burden on them than anyone else.”
This, too, was true. Eterna and Gadhio were always looking out for Flum, which led to her relying on them all the more. Still, she couldn’t—she didn’t want to believe it. Flum pushed on in desperation.
“What about Linus and Maria??”
“They said they didn’t care. They had little to do with you, anyway.”
That was true enough. Flum could hardly recall exchanging even more than a few words with the two, so it was unlikely they’d stand up for her.
“Then what about…Cyrill?”
Cyrill had been giving her the cold shoulder lately, but they’d been friends not so long ago. It seemed preposterous that she’d so readily agree to selling Flum off as a slave.
The massive smile on Jean’s face said otherwise.
“Oh, she readily agreed. In fact, she said she’d be happy to never see your face again.”
“You lie…”
“It’s all true.”
“There’s no way…”
“I’m telling you exactly what she told me.”
Flum wailed in incomprehension, unwilling to believe what she was hearing. However, Jean pressed on.
“You’re being sold into slavery, and we’re going to use that money to fund the party. It’s not so bad, is it? You’re actually contributing something, for once.”
“No, nonono! I don’t want to be a slave!!”
“Just think—this is the most useful you’ll have been since you joined us. Be proud of yourself, kid.”
“I…I just wanna go hoooome!” Betrayed by her party, the only people left in this world Flum truly felt she could rely on were those back in her home village.
But Jean wasn’t done making Flum miserable quite yet. A cruel smile sprang to his lips.
“I wish I could, you know, but that’d be unfair to the poor folk who’d have to take care of a piece of trash like you.”
“Mom… Dad…”
“You know, they’re probably humming as they go, enjoying their newfound life without a parasite of a daughter like you around. After all, all you really ever do is drag down other people and take up space. You should be happy that you left them the honor of being the parents of a supposed hero. Hahaha!”
Flum broke out in loud, wailing sobs as she tried to crawl away, but Jean wouldn’t let up. Arms shot up from the earth and grabbed her arms and legs, holding her in place. She struggled against her bonds but was just too weak to break free.
Jean cackled menacingly as he brought the brand closer and closer to Flum’s tear-soaked cheek. It sizzled for a moment as it pressed into her flesh.
“Aaaaaaauuuuuuuuuugh!!!!!!”
Her whole body contorted as she let out an ear-shattering scream. Tears continued to flow down her cheek, turning into steam the moment they touched the hot brand. Flum shook her head violently in a desperate attempt to get away, but another earthy tendril wrapped itself around her neck, holding her head in place.
“Aaaaaaauah!! Aaaaaaaagguuuaaah!!! Gyaaaaaaugh!!”
Her voice grew hoarse, but her screaming didn’t abate. And as Flum endured the pain, Jean seemed to be enjoying himself all the more.
“Gwahahaha! Now this is poetic justice if I’ve ever seen it. Just look at you now! Gahahaha!”
“Aaaah…aaa…aaaannng…”
Finally, Flum’s voice trailed off as losing consciousness gave her an escape from the pain. Her whole body was covered in sweat, from her shirt down to the comfortable shorts she always wore. No…it wasn’t sweat that soiled the shorts. Flum had lost control of her bodily functions as she spasmed and twitched. It was altogether a shameful sight.
Jean peeled the slowly cooling branding iron away from Flum’s face. The skin crackled and clung to it as he pulled back, finally separating it from her cheek with a final tug. He tossed the branding iron aside and turned toward the slave trader.
“Well, you seemed t’be enjoying yourself.” The man didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the disturbing scene that had just unfolded in front of him. He was, after all, someone who lived in the darkest corners of civilization.
“She’s put me through a lot, you could say. In fact, I still don’t feel like we’re even.”
“Well, let’s not do any more damage. You might kill her.”
“Kill? I’m not some kind of monster, you know. Anyway, give me my money, and I’ll be on my way.”
The merchant pulled up a hemp bag and gave it a gentle shake, causing the coins inside to clack against each other. He handed it over to Jean. “Here you go.”
Jean hefted the bag to test the weight and gave a satisfied smile before turning around and leaving. Before he’d even left the small square, the merchant was tending to Flum with the supplies he’d readied in advance. The application of a magical pigment would ensure that the brand would never disappear.
From that moment on, Flum had lost all rights and privileges to live life as a normal person.