Samael and his two companions were not surprised to discover the true identities of the man and woman before them.
For one thing, the slave marks remained clearly branded on their bodies. Though the surroundings were dark, Samael and the others were hardly blind. Each of them possessed almost unnaturally sharp eyesight and perception.
For another, they had encountered plenty of refugees on their journey from Cornwall.
But the wilderness was fraught with danger in this era, especially with insect and beast plagues spreading across the land. Most refugees would seek shelter in a nearby fortress along their route, preserve their lives, and wait for the turmoil to pass before deciding what to do next.
For safety, they would also travel with people they knew and stick to the more secure main roads in search of protection.
Yet these two intended to go straight to the Holy City of Camelot while cutting through the far more dangerous wilderness.
It was obvious that, to them, their homeland was more terrifying than a long journey, and people were more dangerous than Magical Beasts.
Taking their clothing, speech, and mannerisms into account, it was not difficult to guess where they had come from.
Naturally, Mari and Morgan had reached the same conclusion.
After all, the Sage who guides the Lord and the witch who seeks to overthrow the throne were both exceptionally intelligent.
Seeing the couple tense as though facing a mortal enemy, Samael raised a hand and smiled reassuringly.
"Don't worry. We mean you no harm."
However, with their lives at stake, the man and woman remained wary. They had seen more than enough of the ugliness of human nature and had spent days avoiding strangers.
Morgan frowned in displeasure.
"Hmph. If we meant you harm, do you honestly think you would have any chance of resisting?"
"...You're right... Please forgive our rudeness..."
The brown-haired man froze, looking embarrassed. Then he lowered his guarded arms in defeat and obediently sat beside the fire with his wife, as docile as a pair of sheep.
Her words had been blunt and unpleasant, but they were impossible to refute.
His meager self-defense skills would barely suffice against ordinary city guards. He would have to hide from any large wild beast, let alone challenge the extraordinary beings before him, each of whom had received powerful blessings.
"I heard there's a reward for reporting runaway slaves and helping their owners recover their property?"
Just as the young fugitive couple began to relax, secretly relieved that they had met decent people, a pleasant, curious voice from nearby made their hearts clench and their faces stiffen.
"Those two said they wouldn't report you. I never did."
Mari raised her hand from the corner, smiling brightly as she clarified.
To the couple, that radiant smile looked like the gaping maw of a demon. The sudden turn plunged them back into icy despair.
"Unless..."
The white-haired Magus stroked his smooth chin and deliberately drew out the word. His dreamlike purple eyes gleamed in the darkness as he watched every minute change in their expressions with eager interest.
"You tell me your story..."
Their hearts lurching between terror and relief, the two lit up with joy. They nodded frantically, huddling together with their fingers tightly intertwined. The relief of escaping disaster left them so emotional that they nearly burst into tears.
"Come on, come on! Big Sister has wine. Hurry up and tell me!"
Mari moved closer and sat beside the couple, urging them on with great enthusiasm. Still not satisfied, she added one final warning.
"Make sure it's interesting, though, or I might change my mind!"
"..."
Their emotions pulled about like puppets on strings, the couple forced smiles more miserable than tears and nodded blankly.
Tsk. That was the problem with people who lived purely for amusement. Their sense of humor was as twisted as ever.
Samael shook his head inwardly, but he made no attempt to stop Mari from toying with the couple.
Earlier, the two had been short on food and had hidden in the bushes to spy on them. Who could say whether they had been driven solely by fear and harmless intentions?
As the fugitive man himself had said, people could sometimes be more terrifying than wild beasts.
Under the professional gossip-monger's repeated urging, the thoroughly exhausted couple recounted their experiences without holding anything back.
In truth, it was a very familiar story.
The man's name was Nock. He had been a slave on a remote Knight's estate somewhere in Cornwall, where he was responsible for mining magic steel, mithril, and other ores.
He was not the only one with that name. Many of the men who worked alongside him were also called Nock, as had been his father and grandfather.
"Nock" meant "the striker." It was the name of a race of small fairies that lived in the mines of Cornwall, a branch of the Earth Clan, one of the Six Great Elf Clans.
According to legend, these fairies were born from the souls of people who died in the mines. They often knocked against the tunnel walls to warn miners about dangerous veins, which was how they earned their name.
These mine fairies frequently worked alongside humans and assisted them in mining. In return, they were paid one-tenth of the ore that was extracted.
Some records claimed that if anyone tried to deceive the mine fairies with fake ore, the entire vein would dry up as punishment.
Likewise, whistling or shouting curses inside a tunnel inhabited by mine fairies could startle them and provoke severe retaliation.
However, giving a human the name of a little fairy was rarely meant as praise. It was usually a condescending label that masters imposed on the slaves they regarded as their property.
The young woman had also been born into slavery and had grown up with Nock.
Because of the punishing labor and frequent mining accidents, few members of the older generation in their town lived very long. Nock and the young woman had both lost their parents in a mining disaster. They depended on each other from then on, and as they grew older, they naturally fell in love.
What awaited them afterward was nothing more than marriage, children, mining, death in the tunnels, becoming mine fairies, and continuing to mine...
The same fate repeated itself among the slaves, generation after generation.
Yet in an age of turmoil, even the chance to keep one's head down and obey the rules could become a luxury.
Their lord took a liking to Nock's wife and demanded his "right of the first night." He intended to claim his slave on the first night of her marriage and exercise his authority over his property.
As possessions of their master, the couple had no right to negotiate.
Nock had no choice but to resist with his life on the line. Using a tunnel he had accidentally dug through, he fled the estate with his wife, hoping to begin a new life elsewhere.
But they had nothing to their names. With no survival skills and little ability to protect themselves, their reckless flight into the dangerous wilderness soon brought them to the end of their strength.
Had they not encountered Samael and his companions, they would either have starved on the road, been captured and sold again, or become food for wild beasts, leaving their bones to rot in the wilderness.
After telling their long story, the suffering couple sat close together beside the fire, their fingers interlocked. There was not a trace of regret or hesitation in their eyes.
To them, dying while fleeing was still better than living in misery.
Mari was thoroughly satisfied by the familiar yet touching story. She pulled the couple into a round of drinking and conversation, easing some of the oppressive tension.
As a Divine Spirit who had spent so long looking down from the clouds, Samael rarely came into such close contact with the realities of human life. He could not help feeling deeply troubled.
"To think such a vile custom actually exists..."
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