“The slave leads us away from the city center, Young Master. I thought we were going back there,” Hakub the guard whispered to his lord. The red-haired man shrugged indifferently, unfazed by the long trek ahead despite being a noble.

  “Of course; what would you expect from commoners?”

  “A commoner? How did you know?”

  “Simple. Remember the saying ‘If they gather, they are laborers. If they spread, they are farmers’? There are no arfad—shared housing—in the countryside and no nobles residing outside the city center as far as I remember. It is highly likely that the owner of that slave is merely a farmer,” he replied.

  “But how about the gold coins?”

  “Eh, could be his life savings or a part of his inheritance,” Alkud answered nonchalantly. “How foolish of him to hand over his entire life savings. To a slave, even.”

  The guard nodded in admiration, his eyes wide as if he had witnessed a miracle. “Young Master’s knowledge knows no bounds! You can deduce anything with so little information! This servant is enlightened!”

  Disgust was plastered across Alkud’s face, “What are you talking about? Even children know that saying, and no—stop with the praises. Anyone could reach that conclusion without having to think deeply.”

  “But still, it’s amazing that you can come to that conclusion!” the guard continued his unending praise, ignorant of his master’s annoyance.

  Alkud squinted at the slave in front of them, eyes full of distrust and suspicion as they traversed the dirt road. The discomfort he had felt earlier did not wane; it grew instead.

  Is it just me or was that slave about to attack us earlier in the market? She might be standing normally, but I can’t shake the feeling that she was going to harm us…

  What was the true identity of this slave, who stood in defiance against him, a noble?

  He studied her cautiously, hoping to find clues of her being a fallen noble turned slave due to bankruptcy. However, he found nothing. No fallen nobles came to mind and she did not resemble any nobles he had met so far in this South District.

  “…?” Alkud stopped when he noticed the slave looking at them halfway. She raised her skinny arm and pointed towards a certain direction. His blue eyes followed the direction to find a two-story house in the distance.

  “Ah, finally!” Hakub exclaimed, “I was beginning to think that you were leading us to a random area!”

  Alkud sighed, “Let’s continue.”

  The slave nodded and they resumed walking.

  ===

  This was not more than seventy percent.

  It was more than ninety percent.

  Fair was definitely not in this outcome, as his HP and MP were significantly lower than his basic attributes. Let alone flatten a kingdom, he couldn’t even lift a hand against an archmage as they have far higher INT at him, ranging from 1800 to 2500 with mana above 6000, excluding any titles or achievements they had in their pursuit of arcane knowledge.

  ”Good,” he muttered, satisfied.

  He also examined his titles he obtained from purchase or feats.

  Most of them are greyed out.

  Indeed, a huge number of them were disabled, leaving him with mundane titles such as “Insect Killer I – 5% damage to insects” or “Novice Haggler I – 5% discount when haggling”, and similar titles.

  The gods might be pointing fingers at him and jeering at his stupidity, but jokes on them; this was exactly what he wanted in the first place. This was not a proposal to entertain them.

  This was a proposal to die.

  “Thank you for the chance you have given me,” he bowed once again, “this creation will do his best to deliver an unforgettable, one-of-a-kind performance.”

  As soon as he finished that sentence, tranquility enveloped him like a gentle embrace. For the first time in his life, he felt weightless, as if someone had lifted the burden he had been shouldering for decades. This foreign feeling spread warmth through his veins, transforming the world into a vibrant painting rich with colors and sounds.

  He couldn’t wait to kill himself again.

  A familiar white window appeared beside him, catching his attention.

  [[The Dead Conqueror would like to bestow you with a gift. Do you accept?]]

  He pressed the Yes button.

  A sudden flash blinded him momentarily before it vanished, revealing a shining object hovering above him. He extended his wingarm’s hand upwards and the object followed his gesture, landing softly on the outstretched palm.

  It was a ring.

  He raised an eyebrow at it but did not question the deity.

  [[The Dead Conqueror explains that it is just a simple disguise ring.]]

  [[Considering your limited power, she wishes that the ring would help you in your daily life since you don’t have to recast disguise spell every time you leave your house.]]

  [[The Dead Conqueror urges you to wear it.]]

  “…yes, of course. Thank you for the splendid gift you have given me. How grateful I am to receive such a gift,” he answered monotonously and wore it. The ring fitted perfectly on his left pinky.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  [[The Dead Conqueror claps her hands while smiling, expressing her relief that you won’t be harmed while wearing her ring.]]

  …what?

  With a vacant expression he gazed at the white window, then shifted his eyes towards a new window that just materialized above the ring.

  [[Lukh Vatinea’s Ring

  This ring hums with divine power. As long as the wearer continues to wear it, this ring will give the wearer a permanent disguise without needing to spend mana. The wearer can choose a new disguise every three days. Unspent disguise will be kept up to three disguises.

  Additional effects:

  - Adds 500 Mana to the wearer

  - Allows the wearer to bypass any spell level and waive any mana usage for all spells

  - Protects the wearer from any fatal injuries

  Disclaimer:

  - Under no circumstances shall The Dead Conqueror be liable for any indirect, incidental, consequential, special, or exemplary damages arising out of or in connection with your voluntary disclosure of this ring’s effects to other Deities

  CAN ONLY BE REMOVED AT THE CONSENT OF THE ORIGINAL OWNER]]

  Zalstrahvi’s eyes returned to the white window, the ring, the window, the ring again, and finally the window before sudden realization finally dawned on him.

  YOU MOTHERF—!!!

  ===

  Finally, they arrived at their destination.

  Alkud's eyes widened in disbelief as he took in the sight before him. A commoner just bought that house—the one infamous for its awkward target of buyers and its derelict condition. The exterior was every bit as decrepit as he had heard and seen from its pictures: the panels were weathered and splintered, debris littered the ground, and patches of mold covered most of the wooden walls.

  He grimaced.

  Disgusting! Just by looking at the house’s condition he hardly has the time to maintain it…

  His guard shot him a concerned glance, his eyes flicking nervously toward the house before them. He was unsure whether they were indeed at the right place. Alkud understood his guard’s unspoken thought; he was feeling the same. With a thoughtful gaze, he surveyed the dilapidated house, over the expansive lawn of overgrown grasses and pondered inwardly.

  He may have money to buy this property, but it seems that he has no brain to do further research. It requires a significant amount of money for a commoner to restore this property. Did he get scammed somehow?

  As the slave ascended the rickety staircase to the porch, he caught a glimpse of a figure slumped against the railings. The sight startled Alkud. The man was nearly camouflaged by the dense, wild grass that had overgrown the yard.

  The slave and her owner engaged in hushed conversation before he stood to face them.

  The owner was a stocky man with black hair, utterly unremarkable in appearance, lacking any easily memorable features. Annoyance and disgust—emotions that should have been his to express—were plastered on the slave owner’s face as he glared down at Alkud from the porch.

  So this is him, the slave owner. Alkud snorted, feeling disappointed with a little bit of contempt. He had hoped to see someone more… impactful—perhaps a commoner who defied the mundane, easily distinguishable amongst the unremarkable individuals. Or someone befitting the dumb image he has over him.

  No.

  He just saw… this. This super ordinary uncle from the neighborhood.

  “…can I help you?” his voice was dull, matching his dead eyes.

  “Hey, how dare you speak like that to the Young Master? Do you even know who he is?” Hakub bellowed, adopting an aggressive stance to defend his young master’s honor.

  “…yes, if I possess some kind of ability to know his name before he introduces himself. Otherwise, no.”

  “You insolent commoner!!”

  Alkud sighed and placed a hand on his guard’s shoulder, “Enough with the unrefined conversation, Hakub. You’re only making yourself look foolish.”

  The guard gritted his teeth, but he accepted his shortcomings gracefully and stepped back. Despite his retreat, his right hand never left the hilt of his blade, which was sheathed on his left thigh.

  Alkud approached the commoner. His gait was dignified and confident, befitting of a noble that he was.

  “I am Alkud Balharran, an apprentice Kaballan in this South District.”

  ===

  “I am Alkud Balharran, an apprentice Kaballan in this South District.”

  An unfamiliar term to him. Zalstrahvi raised a brow at that before the Dead Conqueror chimed in,

  [The Dead Conqueror explains that a Kaballan is a Judge served under the Temple in a district.]

  “…Is this about my slave?”

  The noble’s brows furrowed, pondering the identity of this commoner. “Indeed. She bumped into me in the market and dropped this pouch.”

  He showed Zalstrahvi the said pouch. It was full of golden coins.

  “Leaving a slave with golden coins might not be the best decision. Believe me, I own slaves and there is no better way to end your life than giving a substantial amount of money to them. Not only that, your slave might be accused of stealing money from her owner, something of which your slave has just experienced.”

  Really? Zalstrahvi grew tired of hearing many variations of this exchange countless times. Nobles never change—petty, cruel children decked in power, money, with ego as high as the Valtan Mountain, the home of the dragon race, and as fragile as a piece of paper.

  “It is imperative that we discuss this problem in more detail, unless you are ready for slave abandonment and dangerous empowerment trials.”

  Have you tried asking the slave to confirm whether she was stealing or not? Have you no thought about how slave mark work? Why are you worsening this situation instead of taking careful steps to resolve it peacefully?

  Indeed, Zalstrahvi felt the urge to ask such questions, but decided to shut his mouth. If he did not consider breathing annoying, he might be explaining right now.

  He was not in the mood for any conversation, especially after that event earlier, and the persistent noble’s attempt to engage him in conversation worsened his mood. Hastily, he grabbed anything he could get from his weary mind and threw it at the noble,“…regretfully, we have no suitable furniture to properly accommodate your visit.”

  ===

  That sentence threw Alkud off guard he stopped speaking mid-sentence. His dealings with commoners and nobles alike earned him more rejections than anyone else. He had braced himself for a myriad of excuses or evasions, but the directness of this commoner's rebuff left him astonished.

  “Wait. Am I hearing you correctly? You truly have no furniture…?” he asked.

  “…indeed. We have no furniture, so you might as well leave.”

  Alkud directed a perplexed glance at the man before him, bewildered by the audacity of this commoner. He felt dumb. A part of his mind was trying to discern the true meaning of his words while the rest was shutting down due to the absurdity of this situation. How could anyone be so brazen?

  Alkud’s confused gaze drove the commoner to open the front door. The interior was clean, but devoid of anything.

  “Ah, yes. It is empty. You… just said that. I mean…”

  It took him a few minutes to regain his composure; the commoner’s rudeness rubbed him the wrong way and he would pay for that.

  Alkud smiled as politely as possible and spoke, his voice carefully controlled to maintain an air of civility, “You mentioned your lack of furniture, no? As an apprentice Kaballan, it would be a sin for me to allow you to continue living in such discomfort. Therefore, I shall allocate some of my valuable time to introduce you to one of our furniture merchants and then we will be able to discuss this in a more comfortable manner.”

  The commoner snorted, but that did not faze Alkud at all.

  “Of course you are free to reject, but remember, you will be put on trial for slave abandonment and dangerous empowerment.”

  Alkud’s brow furrowed slightly at the nonchalant attitude of this commoner. Did he not know the meaning somehow?

  “It means you will be judged for breaking the rules.”

  Again, it was the nonchalant attitude that confused Alkud. What was so funny about it that he dared to just… arch his brow?

  “The Temple may force you to pay for your crimes and if you fail to do so, they will seize your property. You will lose your only home. Think about that.”

  The air grew heavier with no further exchanges between them.

  The commoner fell into a contemplative silence that softened his posture. Though his expression remained an impassive mask, Alkud could sense the shift in the commoner’s body language and that was enough information for him to grasp. He had won.

  Slowly, almost reluctantly, the commoner murmured his agreement, which made Alkud’s smile even wider.

  Got you, you insolent commoner!