Rebellious Grey: The Demon Girl Rises from Slavery
In the city of Granveld, where human greed turns flesh into currency, demons are born already condemned. Gurei—thirteen years old, horned, hungry, and utterly alone—has known nothing but the stinking gutters of the Ash Bottom slum. When a bounty hunter's iron grip drags her from the rain-soaked streets into the slave market's cold machinery, she is stripped of her name, her rags, and what little freedom she had left, reduced to nothing more than "property" to be priced and sold.
But something b
Rebellious Grey: The Demon Girl Rises from Slavery - The Master's Back and the Gladiator's Etiquette
Before dawn, the arena sank into a darkness far deeper than anything in the dungeons below.
Along the stone corridor where the gladiators' cells stood in a row, not a single torch had yet been lit. Only the smell—sweat and blood soaked into the walls, and mold—hung thick and stagnant in the dark.
Gurei lay curled small on a wooden cot spread with thin straw.
She wore nothing but the black cloth wrap and loincloth she'd been issued, her long gray hair tied back carelessly with a cord. Around her neck, an iron collar bit cold into her skin.
Her sleep was shallow.
It always was.
Ever since the days in the slum at the bottom of the ash pits, in a hideout with a leaking roof, fighting over bread crumbs—her sleep had never once run deep.
To sleep was to expose an opening.
Even with her eyes closed, her ears kept gathering every sound around her.
Somewhere far off, someone coughing.
The faint creak of iron bars in some cell.
A rat skittering across stone.
And then—
*Clack.*
Steady, measured footsteps.
Gurei's eyelids slowly opened.
Her dark purple eyes held no highlight.
(...Who is it.)
She gave no sign of rising, killed her breathing, and traced the sound to its source.
The footsteps stopped dead in front of her cell.
Then, out of the darkness, a familiar voice descended.
" Morning, Gurei. Been a good girl, have you?"
The voice was far too bright and buoyant to belong to the silence before dawn.
Gurei frowned on her cot.
(...I don't like it.)
She muttered it inwardly.
Everything about this woman, she disliked.
That mocking way of laughing. That attitude that paid no mind to anyone's guard. And above all, the aura of unfathomable strength the woman gave off.
"You're awake, aren't you? I can see right through the playing-possum act."
Serafina's voice drew a little closer.
"It's breakfast time. Hurry up, or I'll eat it all myself."
Gurei slowly sat up.
The straw rustled.
"...What are you here for."
A low, growling voice.
"What for? I told you, didn't I? Breakfast. You didn't eat a thing after yesterday's training, did you? You'll never build a body that way."
"...My meals are none of your concern."
"They are. I'm your master. Managing my disciple's meals is part of the job."
With that, Serafina unlocked the cell.
*Clank.*
The sound of the iron bars opening echoed through the dark.
Gurei did not let down her guard.
(Master.)
(This woman said she'd teach me the sword.)
(I accepted it.)
No—more precisely, she'd been made to accept it.
After that exhibition match, Serafina had seized Gurei's chin and, with eyes mixing madness and curiosity, declared:
—I'll take you on as my disciple.
In that moment, Gurei resolved to tear the strength from this woman.
Her strength, her skill, everything.
And someday, without fail, she would surpass her.
For that, she would swallow any humiliation.
"...If it's food, I'll eat."
Gurei said it shortly.
"Good, obedient."
Serafina laughed.
Even in the dark, that smile was vivid enough to see clearly.
Long, glossy black hair. Brown skin. Long, pointed ears.
A golden laurel wreath crowned her head, and a black corset threaded with gold emphasized her full breasts and narrow waist.
A short cloth wrapped her hips, her thighs bare.
From shoulder to back, several fine gold chains hung along her skin.
And on her back, as always, she carried the great executioner's sword.
Its blade was as long as Gurei was tall.
Broad, thick, its tip faintly curved.
A sword like the blade of a guillotine, made to sever heads.
The Queen of the Cruel Blade.
The strongest gladiator in this arena.
And that woman now stood before Gurei's cell.
"Here, this is your share."
Serafina held out the wooden plate she carried.
On it sat hard black bread, a bowl of thin soup, and several pieces of salted dried meat.
It was a far more decent portion than what the gladiator cells were served.
"You're small, so you need to eat more. Swinging a sword takes stamina."
"...Being small is how I was born."
Gurei took the plate and set it on the cot.
"No complaints. I'll eat."
"Good. Then I'll eat here too."
Serafina set her own plate beside Gurei.
"...Why eat here."
"Eating together beats eating alone, doesn't it?"
"I don't think so."
"Think so."
Serafina said it breezily.
Gurei said nothing more.
There was no point—this woman only ever did as she pleased.
Besides, she was hungry now.
Gurei took the black bread and bit into it.
Hard.
Dry and crumbly, hard to get down.
But it did fill her stomach.
"Drink the soup too. Bread alone will stick in your throat."
Serafina offered the bowl.
Gurei took it wordlessly and sipped.
It was a warm, salty soup.
"...It's not bad."
"Right? I made it."
Serafina said it proudly.
"You made it."
"That's right. The food in the gladiator cells is bland, isn't it? My quarters have a simple kitchen. So every now and then, I cook like this."
"...Meddling."
"It's not meddling. Your body is a gladiator's capital. Eat well, rest well, build a strong body. That's part of the skill of surviving."
With that, Serafina moved her own dried meat onto Gurei's plate.
"You're not eating?"
"I already ate. Besides, you like dried meat, don't you?"
"...How would you know."
"Because after yesterday's training, there was no dried meat left in your cell."
Serafina smiled brightly.
Gurei clicked her tongue.
(How much does this woman see.)
"...I'll eat."
Gurei put the dried meat into her mouth without a word.
The salt stung her tongue.
"Good, that's a fine appetite."
Serafina nodded, satisfied.
"Then once you've eaten, it's training. Let's go."
"...It's not even dawn yet."
"Before dawn is exactly right. We can train thoroughly without anyone interfering."
Serafina stood.
"Come on, hurry and eat."
Gurei hurried the rest of the bread and soup into her stomach.
"Done."
"Good. Let's go."
Serafina grabbed Gurei's hand and dragged her out of the cell.
"...Let go. I'll walk myself."
"No. If I let go, you'll run."
"I won't run."
"Liar. Your eyes say you'll bolt the moment there's an opening."
Laughing, Serafina pulled Gurei along by the hand down the stone corridor.
Gurei gave up resisting.
This woman's hand was like an iron ring—immovable.
Pointless resistance was a waste of stamina.
(I don't like it.)
Gurei spat another silent curse.
When they reached the training ground, Serafina released her hand.
"Now then. What shall I teach you today?"
Serafina stood in the center of the training ground and looked around.
The underground training ground was far quieter than by day.
Even the torches along the walls were barely half lit.
The dirt floor was cold and damp.
"Do you know how to grip a sword?"
"...I know."
"Then show me."
Gurei took up the wooden sword leaning nearby.
"...Like this."
Gurei gripped the wooden sword with both hands and took her stance.
"Yeah, not bad. Your way of putting in force—well, passing grade. But your stance thinks only of killing."
Serafina said it while slowly circling Gurei.
"Is that wrong."
"It's not wrong. But to survive long as a gladiator, it's not enough."
Serafina moved behind Gurei.
"A gladiator's job isn't just killing each other. Entertaining the crowd. That's part of the job too."
Those words were the same as what the one-eyed instructor had once said.
Gurei's back teeth ground together.
"...That's the logic of the weak."
Gurei spat it out.
"Maybe so. But you're going to learn that logic of the weak from now on."
Serafina reached gently from behind.
"First, that killing intent. Bare, exposed killing intent is easy for an opponent to read. In yesterday's match, I saw through your first strike completely, didn't I?"
"...Yeah."
"That's because your killing intent was too straight. I could tell exactly where you were aiming, like reading the palm of my hand."
Serafina's fingers touched Gurei's shoulder.
"So first, erase your killing intent. Or scatter it deliberately. Don't let your opponent read the next blow. That's the first skill a gladiator must learn."
"...Erase my killing intent."
"Yes. Hard, isn't it? But if you can't, you'll never beat me. Not ever."
Serafina's voice whispered sweetly at her ear.
Something ran crawling down Gurei's neck.
"...I'll do it."
Gurei shook off Serafina's hand and put distance between them.
"Oho, good. Those eyes. You're getting motivated."
Serafina laughed.
"Then let's spar. Land even one hit on me. If you can, I'll double your breakfast today."
"...Don't want it."
"Don't be shy. Eat while you can—you never know when you won't be able to."
Serafina turned to face Gurei, her wooden sword dangling loosely.
"Come on, then. But if you bare your killing intent like before, I'll knock you down again."
Gurei took her stance.
(Erase my killing intent.)
(Don't let my opponent read the next blow.)
Gurei exhaled slowly.
Then she fixed her eyes straight on Serafina's.
(Watch this woman's movements.)
(Her stance, her center of gravity, her breathing.)
(Steal all of it.)
Gurei kicked off the floor.
—*Thud.*
The next instant, Gurei's body was rolling across the dirt.
"...Ngh!"
Her back slammed into the ground.
The air was forced out of her lungs.
"I told you, your killing intent is wide open, didn't I? Before you even move, your shoulders tell me where you're aiming."
Serafina looked down at the fallen Gurei.
"...Again."
Gurei stood up.
"Fine. Come as many times as you like."
Gurei charged at Serafina once more.
—*Thud.*
She was knocked down again.
"This time your footsteps were too loud. The sound of you kicking off the ground tells me when you'll move."
"...Again."
—*Thud.*
"Your gaze tells me your aim straight on. Your eyes can't lie."
"...Again."
—*Thud.*
"Your breathing is shallow. The sound of you inhaling tells me when you'll lunge."
"...Again."
Gurei challenged Serafina again and again.
And each time, she was sent rolling across the dirt.
Her body hurt.
Mud and sweat soiled her whole body.
But Gurei did not stop getting up.
(This woman is strong.)
(But that's exactly why I can learn.)
(With every fall, I understand this woman's movements a little more.)
Gurei watched Serafina's movements, thinking.
(This woman watches my center of gravity before I move.)
(She reads the direction of my next blow from how my shoulders set.)
(And just before my sword reaches her, she slips it aside with the smallest movement.)
(No waste. Not a single millimeter of waste.)
(So I'll steal this woman's waste-free movement.)
Gurei observed Serafina's stance intently.
(This woman always stands at an angle.)
(Her weight always rides on the ball of her back foot.)
(So she can move instantly forward or back.)
(Her grip on the sword isn't too tight.)
(Her wrists are always soft.)
(That's how she wields the sword so freely.)
Gurei burned every one of Serafina's movements into her eyes.
"...Hoh."
Serafina suddenly spoke up.
"You were just now watching my stance closely, weren't you."
"...Yeah."
"You're trying to imitate me, aren't you? You're a fast learner."
Serafina smiled happily.
"Good. Steal away. Let's see how much of my skill you can steal."
Serafina reset her wooden sword.
"Now, let's continue. The chance to double your breakfast is still on the table."
Gurei charged at Serafina without a word.
—*Thud.*
The sound of Gurei's body slamming into the dirt echoed through the training ground, again and again.
Before long, morning light began to seep through a small window near the ceiling.
The dim training ground grew gradually brighter.
Gurei lay spread-eagled on the dirt.
Her shoulders heaved.
Her whole body was screaming.
"...Hah... hah..."
"Good work. That's all for today's training."
Serafina hadn't broken a single sweat.
"You didn't land a single hit in the end, did you."
"...No."
"But toward the end you got much better. A little more and you m
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