DEMONIC ANGEL

THE BEGINNING

Scarlett and Yumi followed the stream of curious villagers to the site where the portal was forming. As they arrived, they heard the crisp pop of the air, signaling that the portal had stabilized. The edges of the vortex simmered with brilliant blue light, captivating everyone who witnessed it. From this dazzling gateway, three figures stepped through, one of whom clutched a bag tightly to his chest.

The newcomers looked around, their eyes widening in alarm as they realized they were surrounded by an array of non-human villagers. The sight of these so-called monsters made them tremble with fear, clearly not having expected such a greeting.

Scarlett stepped forward, a mischievous smile playing on her lips as she observed their discomfort. "Welcome, free laborers," she announced with a playful tone. "The King of Gwarga sent you all here, right?"

Out of the group, a dwarf with a long beard who was quite short in stature—barely reaching Scarlett's waist—took a brave step forward. Despite his trembling voice, there was a note of confidence as he introduced himself. "I'm Gorham, an armorer and swordsmith," he declared.

Next, an average-looking older man in a robe stepped up. "I'm Sigfried," he said calmly. "I specialize in construction and arts."

Following in turn, the third man, who was bald and dark skinned proclaimed, "I'm Gohard, and I'm very confident in my craftsmanship."

As Scarlett surveyed the newcomers, she noticed an unsettling detail: each of them wore a slave collar around their necks. Though she could remove the collars effortlessly with her powers, she chose to inquire first, wanting to understand their situation better.

"Why are you all wearing slave collars? You don't look like someone's slaves. Or were you sent here against your will?" Scarlett asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and concern.

The dwarf, Gorham, responded with a weary nod. "Yes, none of us wanted to come here. We were prisoners, and they promised to pay our families in return for our work here. They attached these slave collars to ensure we couldn't escape."

Scarlett furrowed her brows, puzzled and alarmed by the revelation. "Prisoners? What did you all do?"

Gorham sighed deeply before explaining. "I, Sigfried, and Gohard were imprisoned because of the same person—a noble who claimed that our works were copies of his, and he reported us. But the truth is, he was the actual copycat; he was copying our hard work. Since we're commoners and he's a noble, no one listened to our side of the story."

Scarlett sighed in disappointment, her expression reflecting a mix of frustration and disbelief. "They believed him just because he was a noble? Don't they have the common sense to see how illogical it is for one man to be skilled in three distinct crafts?"

It seemed absurd to Scarlett that such a claim could be taken seriously or that justice could be so blatantly skewed by social status. Yet, she recognized that this was a common plight for commoners facing the word of nobility. Though the story stirred a sense of injustice in her, Scarlett knew that dwelling on their past wouldn't change it.

Scarlett raised one hand, her fingers curling slightly as she focused her energy. An invisible force manifested around the newcomers' necks, the subtle power of her psychokinesis at work. With a mere flick of her wrist, she effortlessly broke the slave collars that had been restraining them. The clinks of the shattered collars hitting the ground marked their newfound freedom.

The faces of Gorham, Sigfried and Gohard lit up with relief and joy as they realized their collars had been removed. They exchanged glances that mixed surprise with gratitude, then all three sets of eyes turned toward Scarlett.

A broad grin spread across Scarlett's face as she gave them a cheerful thumbs up. "You're not actually free laborers," she declared, her voice warm with the promise of better days. "I'll be giving you five gold coins a month as a salary, and it will also increase if you all work well."