Elves are noble, elegant, and refined.
They live impossibly long lives in a state of eternal beauty, which is why people are so obsessed with them.
Because of that, some slave hunters break the law and capture elves straight from their villages to turn them into slaves.
After all, the massive profits from selling elf slaves more than make up for the risks.
Cecilia's village was probably one such case.
'...So even in the imperial capital, it's not impossible for Cecilia to get kidnapped.'
She'd gone out to do some shopping, and now it was well past the time she should have returned.
Given the circumstances, the guess that she'd been snatched away was probably spot on.
"...Haa. Still, when the hell am I gonna find her."
A sigh escaped him as he stepped out of the house.
In truth, even if she'd been nabbed by street slave hunters or thugs, as long as she was an elf slave—and a virgin at that—her body wouldn't be violated.
Unless it was some lunatic with a death wish, anyway.
'What was Cecilia's scent like again?'
He focused his senses on his nose and sharpened his awareness, and her fragrance immediately crystallized in his mind.
True to her elven nature, it carried the lingering aroma of flowers, mixed with the musty smell of old books.
There was no mistaking it—this was Cecilia's scent.
Whiiiirrr!
He concentrated on his nose.
Sharp and keen, like the edge of a blade.
His honed sense of smell now clearly picked up the direction where her scent grew stronger.
'This transcendent body really is convenient.'
The closer the body approached transcendence, the more its basic abilities skyrocketed.
Not just recovery, muscle strength, or stamina—senses like smell and sight transcended human limits entirely.
Of course, transcendence meant drawing closer to divinity for a mortal, so it wasn't all that surprising.
'Alright, time to go hunt down the bastards messing with my Cecilia.'
Honestly, he was a little excited.
Ever since possessing this body, there'd been no real conflicts, so even with a former Sword Saint's power, it hadn't felt all that thrilling.
Guys walking right into his lap like this? He welcomed them with open arms.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The imperial capital's nights were vibrant, but they carried a sinister edge too.
Sure, it looked lively on the surface, but kidnappings and assaults happened all too often behind the scenes.
"...Hm? This way?"
Guided purely by scent, he'd followed Cecilia's trail for about five minutes.
It was quite a distance from home, but his quick pace had gotten him there in no time.
To the source where the aroma wafted and spread.
The place resembled an abandoned factory from his past life's memories.
Far from the bustling heart of the capital, it exuded an eerie chill.
'This place even showed up in the game's story as a backdrop.'
The Crowns—the largest underworld organization in the capital.
They had ties to high nobles and enough firepower to make them a recurring first-rate faction in the game.
Of course, they got wiped out in a massive purge later on.
"Ahem! Anyone around?"
He cleared his throat and raised his voice.
Stealth might've been smarter, but it wasn't his style.
"...What the hell are you?"
Figures began gathering from the shadows at the sound of his voice.
All men with crown-shaped tattoos on the backs of their hands.
Crowns members, without a doubt.
"I'm here to take back what you stole."
"Stole? Buddy, this ain't a place for softies like you. Scram."
"Yeah, fuck off."
A guy gestured for him to leave while lighting a cigarette.
It was their way of saying "don't get involved," but trash was trash all the same.
Thwuck.
"Huh?"
He grabbed the sword at his waist and hurled it at the man's gut with blinding speed.
With just a bit of force behind it, the hole in the guy's stomach was manhole-sized.
This level of power was unexpected—even stronger than he'd thought.
"Wh-what the fuck!?"
"Gaaahhhh!!!!"
The man with the gut wound screamed and toppled backward, while terror bloomed in the eyes of the others.
No wonder—a sword flying at invisible speed had just punched a manhole through their buddy's belly.
"Just think of it as divine retribution and accept it."
As Crowns members, the odds they'd never done anything evil were slim to none.
Not that he was killing them for their crimes—he was killing them for touching Cecilia.
Still, knowing they were scum made the guilt a little lighter.
"Wh-what the fuck are you scared of? The bastard's alone!"
"B-but boss, that sword just now... it was too fast to see..."
"So you're gonna piss yourself? Charge him!"
"U-uh, yes sir!"
At the command from what looked like a mid-level officer, the grunts exchanged glances before raising their blades against him.
'Even so, getting hit would probably hurt.'
Not that he planned to let them land a blow.
Shiiiing! Slash!
With a casual flick of his fingers, the sword that had pierced the first man's gut soared through the air.
The so-called flying sword or heart sword technique.
Invisible to the eye, it sliced through the air, punching through guts or cleanly severing necks one by one.
Blood pooled on the ground beneath the flying blade.
In under five minutes, the only one left standing before him was the officer who'd ordered the attack.
"Not bad skills. You managed to block that."
Granted, he'd swung it half-heartedly, but the guy had somehow avoided all the vitals.
"Bullshit! My arms and legs are gone—in your eyes, anyway—and you call that blocking?"
"Yeah. Sort of."
At this point, he was getting a bit curious about facing the Crowns' top brass.
In the game, the empire's current Sword Saint had cut them down, after all.
"Ah, so where's my slave?"
"...Fuck. Knew it was about that bitch. That's why I said we should've just let her go."
"Oh? You've got a brain, huh?"
Elf slaves were usually snapped up by high nobles.
Even for the Crowns, offending one was a bad call.
Of course, he wasn't actually a high noble.
"So, one more time. Where's Cecilia?"
"...What, probably getting cozy with the boss right about now?"
Deciding there was no point listening to more drivel, he ended the conversation swiftly.
Crunch!
Crushing a man's skull with a sword wasn't a pleasant sensation.
'...Anyway, this range should be fine with my senses.'
He closed his eyes and steadied his breathing.
Spreading his awareness wide and shallow around him, he picked up waves of life from all directions.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
Among the countless pulses, one stood out—pure, powerful, and identical to Cecilia's from before.
Yes, Cecilia was straight ahead.
Though a massively strong, brutal wave was barreling toward him first.
Boom!!
No need to go to her—the door to the factory's depths burst open, revealing a hulking brute with a savage face.
His upper body was bare to show off rippling muscles, paired with tight pants hugging his sturdy legs.
Covered in scars like some reversed isekai hero, he stared down impassively before speaking.
"You?"
His voice dripped with toughness and rudeness.
He knew exactly who this was.
"Yeah. You the one who kidnapped my slave?"
"And if I am?"
"Doesn't matter. You're dead, asshole."
Vrrrrm!!
He resonated with the sword lodged in the corpses, calling it back to him.
With a sharp ring, it whipped into his hand.
"Wonder if you'll be worth slicing."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
She'd been too careless.
Even knowing the risks after so long cooped up at home, she'd let herself get caught like this.
'Master... I might not be able to make dinner.'
It hadn't even been a full month as her master's slave, and now she was about to be sold off again.
Even back in the village, she'd always been this careless.
If... if she got sold, this time she might truly become her new owner's plaything.
No, it was more than "might"—it was inevitable.
That was the usual fate for elf slaves.
"...I wanted to give myself to Master instead."
A man who showered her with warmth despite their master-slave bond.
The only one who'd given her the care and affection even her own kind never had.
He was probably the only one.
"...Ah, I don't want to cry..."
She had to stay strong.
No tears.
That's what another slave had told her when they were captured together.
'I should've just stayed home today.'
They say no choice is without regret.
But stepping out today was her biggest regret yet.
"Master..."
She whispered the unresponsive name softly.
A call with no reply.
Or so she'd thought.
"Yeah, why?"
The answer came from right behind her.