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 - Parting Words
The smell of the tide had dissolved into the air before sunrise.
The inn in the port city of Norn stood tucked down a narrow alley, a short walk from the harbor. It was a three-story stone building, its walls coated in white plaster, its window frames painted blue. A light rain must have fallen overnight—the cobblestones glistened dark and wet.
Gurei stood at the inn's entrance.
Her long gray hair was gathered at the back in a single tail, and she had turned up the collar of her coat to hide the black-iron collar around her neck. Two bull-like horns swept forward from her head, catching the morning light in a dull gleam. Her dark violet eyes, devoid of any highlight, were fixed on the white spire visible across the street.
The Great Cathedral of the Sunlight Goddess.
The tallest building in the port of Norn. Even under the overcast sky, the spire of white stone seemed to faintly glow, as though it were drinking in the light.
(Yuuto is in there.)
Gurei clenched her fist inside her coat.
The night before, the Holy Knights and the Church had decided to relieve Gurei of her duties as guard. The reason: assault on the hero. During sword practice, Gurei had shattered Yuuto's ribs. She had been given no chance to explain herself. The discussion had proceeded without her, decided in her absence.
(I don't like it.)
Gurei murmured the words in her mind.
(Yes, I hurt Yuuto.)
(But that was not my will.)
(I misjudged my strength.)
(That is all.)
(And for that alone, they strip me of my post?)
Gurei traced her fingers along the collar. The cold touch of iron. The mark of a slave. The mark of a demon. Could someone wearing this collar ever claim anything in human society?
(Even so.)
Gurei took a single step forward.
(I cannot simply stand down in silence.)
(That boy asked me to teach him the sword.)
(He called me Master.)
(I cannot vanish without a word to him.)
Gurei pushed the inn's door open with force.
She stepped onto the cobblestones. The sound of her soles striking the wet stone echoed through the quiet alley.
The wind from the sea seized her hair and tore at it violently.
---
The Great Cathedral of the Sunlight Goddess.
Its forecourt was spread with white gravel, and well-tended flowerbeds bloomed in every color. Morning light reflected off the white walls, bathing the entire courtyard in a soft glow.
Gurei passed through the cathedral gate.
(Yuuto is here.)
She scanned the forecourt.
That was when it happened.
"Gurei."
A voice.
Gurei turned toward it.
There stood Yuuto.
Short black hair. Straightforward eyes. The boy she had been assigned to guard—the boy she had taught the sword.
Gurei recognized him.
(Yuuto.)
Something stirred, small and faint, deep in her chest.
"...Are you hurt?"
Gurei looked at Yuuto's side.
(I shattered his ribs.)
(And yet he's standing.)
(Did the divine protection heal him?)
Yuuto seemed to notice her gaze and took a step back.
"...Don't come closer."
His voice was trembling.
Gurei stopped in her tracks.
(He's afraid.)
(He's afraid of me.)
(Of course he is.)
(I shattered his bones.)
Gurei bit her lip.
"...We need to talk."
She forced the words out.
"About my dismissal as your guard. I taught you the sword. You asked me to teach you. And I hurt you. About that, I—"
"Oh, that?"
Yuuto cut her off.
Gurei fell silent.
His voice had changed.
It was not the trembling voice from a moment ago. It was colder, more dismissive.
"I thought you were useful, for a slave. Be kind to them and they get full of themselves. Pathetic, really."
Gurei stared at the boy's face.
The expression was not one she recognized.
Those straightforward eyes were nowhere to be found.
What remained was only a cold, appraising stare.
"A demon has no place on a hero's journey. A filthy creature like you standing beside me—that was a mistake from the start."
His words drove into Gurei's chest like a blade.
(What did he just say?)
(A demon is not needed.)
(A filthy creature.)
Gurei stopped breathing.
Her lungs ceased to move.
"Disappear from my sight. Right now. Just looking at your face makes me sick."
With that, Yuuto turned his back on her.
Gurei stood rooted to the spot.
(Disappear.)
(Makes me sick.)
(I thought you were useful, for a slave.)
(Be kind to them and they get full of themselves.)
(Pathetic.)
Yuuto's words repeated over and over in her head.
(That boy asked me to teach him the sword.)
(He called me Master.)
(He watched my back.)
(He called my name.)
(And that boy just told me to disappear.)
Gurei looked at her own hands.
They were trembling.
Like when she had gripped the wooden sword—the tremor spread from her fingertips to her wrists, up her arms.
(No.)
(This is different from that tremor.)
(That time, I trembled because I had broken someone.)
(This is different.)
(I have been broken.)
Gurei traced her fingers along the collar.
Cold iron.
(After all, no one needs me.)
(A demon, a slave, a gladiator.)
(All I can do is hurt people.)
(That's why he tells me to disappear.)
Gurei looked down at the white gravel of the forecourt.
The morning light sparkled across the stones.
(That blue sea.)
(That high sky.)
(None of it has anything to do with me.)
(I am nothing but a thing.)
Gurei exhaled slowly.
Her white breath dissolved into the morning air.
---
Around that time.
In a quiet room deep within the cathedral.
Yuuto lay on a bed draped in white sheets, his eyes closed.
His breathing was shallow, his face pale as paper. Thick bandages were wrapped around his left side, faintly stained with blood.
The ribs Gurei had shattered were slowly healing under the divine protection, but it would still take time before they fully knit. The boy lay sunk in a deep coma, tossing and turning with pain and fever.
Two women attended his bedside.
One was a young female knight clad in silver-white armor.
Leonora. A rising star of the Holy Knights. Her golden hair, long enough to reach her waist, was tied back in a single tail, and with a stern expression she wiped the sweat from Yuuto's brow with a white cloth.
The other was a young nun holding a golden staff.
Marta. A priestess of the Church of Sunlight. Her soft chestnut hair was cut to shoulder length, and she held Yuuto's hand as if in prayer.
"...He still hasn't woken up."
Marta murmured softly.
"The divine protection is healing his wounds. It's only a matter of time. But until the bones fully mend, he needs rest."
Leonora changed Yuuto's bandages swiftly, yet carefully.
"That demon woman, doing such a thing to the hero..."
Marta's voice trembled.
"Save your feelings for later. Right now, the hero's recovery comes first."
Leonora spoke coldly, yet with a weariness about her.
"...Where has Serafina gone?"
Marta looked around the room.
"I don't know. I haven't seen them since morning. Well, that one is always wandering about."
Leonora glanced out the window.
The red-haired sorceress, Serafina. One of the three newly appointed to guard the hero.
They were nowhere to be seen.
"...I have a bad feeling about this."
Marta clutched her staff against her chest.
"It's your imagination. More importantly, you should rest a little too. You haven't slept a wink since last night."
"No, I'm fine. I'll stay by his side until the hero wakes."
Marta did not let go of Yuuto's hand.
Leonora sighed quietly.
Quiet time flowed through the room.
Yuuto knew nothing.
Not that Gurei had been relieved of her duties.
Not that Gurei was now in the cathedral forecourt, having her heart carved out by a false version of himself.
The boy simply slept quietly in his deep coma.
His sleeping face was peaceful.
As though he were not seeing any nightmares at all.
But behind that peaceful face, an irreparable rift was steadily widening.
---
Gurei stood motionless in the cathedral forecourt.
She did not know how much time had passed.
The morning light had grown stronger without her noticing.
The white gravel shone brilliantly.
(Yuuto is gone.)
(He told me to disappear.)
(He said I make him sick.)
(That boy did not need me.)
Gurei traced her fingers along the collar.
Cold iron.
(The reason for me to be here is gone. There is none left.)
(Where should I go?)
(To whom should I return?)
(The arena?)
(The mines?)
(Or some noble's estate?)
The arena flashed through her mind.
The smell of blood. The roar of the crowd. Corpses.
(That was my place.)
(Kill or be killed.)
(That was all there was.)
(If I go back there, I can become a beast again.)
Gurei stared at her hands.
The trembling had stopped at some point.
(What am I hesitating for?)
(I was a beast from the start.)
(Yuuto treated me like a human.)
(And I misunderstood.)
(There was no way I could ever trust anyone like a human.)
Gurei looked at the flowerbeds in the forecourt.
Flowers of every color bloomed proudly in the morning light.
(Beautiful.)
She thought it in her heart.
(But it has nothing to do with me.)
(These flowers bloom for humans.)
(They do not bloom for demons like me.)
Gurei looked away from the flowerbeds.
That was when it happened.
"Hey, you."
A voice.
Gurei turned.
Three military police officers came walking through the cathedral gate.
Dark navy cloaks, silver breast badges. Whips at their hips.
Gurei glared at them.
(The military police.)
(The Vermunt military police.)
(A human organization whose main duties are managing slaves and capturing runaways.)
(The same as those men who trampled me, humiliated me, tried to kill me.)
Gurei's body tensed.
"You're Gurei. The demon, former slave gladiator."
The lead officer planted himself in front of her.
Short-cropped black hair. Stubble. Sharp black eyes that looked down on her.
It was the same officer who had trampled her again and again, heaped humiliation on her.
"...What do you want?"
Her voice was low, almost a growl.
"What do I want? Don't give me that. Word is you assaulted the hero. A guard, laying hands on your master—you've got some nerve."
The officer grabbed Gurei by the collar.
Gurei tried to knock his hand away.
But the officer twisted her arm up behind her.
"Don't resist. You're under arrest for assault on the hero. Come quietly."
His comrade seized her other arm.
Gurei gritted her teeth.
(Don't resist.)
(Under arrest.)
(Assault.)
(I did nothing.)
(I only taught him the sword.)
(I only misjudged my strength.)
(And yet, why—)
Yuuto's words echoed in her head once more.
(I thought you were useful, for a slave.)
(A demon has no place on a hero's journey.)
(Disappear from my sight. Right now.)
The strength drained from Gurei's body.
(I see.)
(So I'm finished.)
(Abandoned by Yuuto.)
(Seized by the military police.)
(Am I to be a slave again?)
Gurei stopped resisting.
The officers bound both her arms behind her back.
The rough rope bit into her skin.
"Walk, you feed."
The officer kicked her in the back.
Gurei staggered.
(Feed.)
(He called me feed.)
(The word for slaves who are used up and discarded in the arena.)
Something small ignited deep in Gurei's chest.
(I don't like it.)
She murmured it in her mind.
(I don't like this situation.)
(I don't like this humiliation.)
(I don't like these men.)
(I don't like Yuuto's words.)
(I don't like everything that abandoned me.)
Dragged along by the officers, she passed through the cathedral gate.
The wind from the sea seized her gray hair and tore at it violently.
The white cathedral shone quietly in the morning light.
Gurei did not look back.
There was no longer any reason to look back.
---
A room deep within the cathedral.
Yuuto was still asleep.
Leonora and Marta offered quiet prayers at the boy's side.
Outside the window, the wind from the sea brushed against the white walls.
The smell of the tide flowed even into the room.
Yuuto knew nothing.
Not that he had, in effect, abandoned Gurei.
Not that Gurei was being led away by the military police at that v
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