The slave girl stared at Helena, a question mark practically floating above her head. Was this woman joking with her?

  What do I want?

  She wanted to get out of here. She wanted to go back to her family. But that was impossible. She had already tried every escape method she could think of, and every attempt had ended the same way: failure, followed by a brutal beating. The only mercy was that Denor did not want his merchandise damaged, but that hardly made the life of an object easier.

  Fear twisted into anger inside her. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes as she looked at Helena’s strangely cheerful expression, an expression that seemed to contain all the happiness in the world.

  "Please… do not give me hope," she said with a trembling voice. "I know my life ended the moment I was captured."

  Helena’s smile softened. Her tone lowered, steady and quiet.

  "I am not joking. I assure you." She leaned in slightly. "Tell me what you desire."

  A strange doubt flickered across the girl’s mind. Helena did not sound like someone mocking her. She sounded sincere.

  She whispered, "Why are you asking what I want?"

  Helena hesitated, genuinely troubled as she tried to explain.

  "Hmm. Well, think of it like this. You are the first good person I have met in years. So I want to grant you a wish." She lifted a finger lightly. "But do not ask for immortality or bringing back the dead."

  Her anger dissolved fully, replaced by a trembling kind of hope. Helena sounded like a scammer from a traveling merchant tale, yet her heart insisted otherwise. It beat faster, warning her she should not ignore this chance.

  She swallowed hard. "Are you a god?"

  Helena quickly waved her hands. "No, no no no, not ever. I am not a god."

  Her reaction was so strong the girl blinked. Helena herself seemed to realize how she sounded and sighed inwardly. Asking people what they desired made her seem like a deity, or a genie from Earth’s myths. But she was neither. Today she was simply a woman who felt happiness again after far too long.

  Before the girl could speak, a sword slammed against the metal bars.

  "How many times do I have to tell you to shut that mouth of yours!"

  Every slave in the carriage flinched. The girl recoiled sharply, fear returning as quickly as it had faded.

  Helena, however, did not flinch. She looked mildly annoyed, as if a mosquito had interrupted her. The adventurer outside was not entirely at fault. He had been uneasy ever since Denor decided to enslave the unconscious woman they found on the road. His chest felt tight, his nerves restless, as though something terrible would happen. That uneasy tension had grown since Helena boarded.

  Then his gaze met hers.

  His heart lurched violently.

  A ridiculous thought bloomed in his mind.

  Is this… love?

  His dull instincts could not distinguish fear from affection. Helena’s smile remained gentle, but the annoyance in her eyes was sharp. He mistook it for charm.

  He stepped back, muttering, "Maybe I should discuss her price with Mister Denor. I hope he gives me a good discount… we have worked together for years."

  His unease melted into excitement. He believed he had fallen in love. He even decided he would buy her, even if he had to empty his hidden stash.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Helena barely acknowledged him. Her attention returned to the slave girl.

  The girl’s expression had changed. Determination surfaced, faint but real. For the first time, her heart dared to believe escape might be possible. She lifted her shackled hands.

  "I want freedom."

  A small sigh escaped Helena, a touch of disappointment in her face. She had half expected something else, something personal. She had already planned to free all the slaves. But she reminded herself what a kidnapped girl’s only realistic wish could be.

  Freedom was the only answer.

  ---

  Helena pointed her finger toward the girl’s shackles. The girl stared, realizing something she had overlooked earlier.

  Helena was no longer bound.

  Minutes ago, she had been wearing shackles like everyone else, yet now they had vanished. In truth Helena had already turned them into dust with her matter manipulation.

  Her ability could alter the atoms and molecules of anything physical.

  Helena smiled softly.

  "Freedom, is it? Here you go."

  The girl barely had time to blink before her shackles and collar crumbled into fine dust. She almost jumped in shock, staring at her bare wrists and ankles. The weight that had dragged her down for days was gone.

  But she was still inside the cage.

  One of the slaves gasped,

  "What??"

  Helena had not only freed the girl. Every slave in the carriage now sat with empty wrists and ankles. Their shackles had dissolved completely.

  She refused to see despair on anyone’s face today.

  Another slave asked quietly,

  "Is… is this your doing?"

  Even those who had not been paying attention had heard the conversation.

  "Yes," Helena said. "I decided you are all free."

  The girl beside her felt a spark of joy, but it quickly dulled.

  "But we are still inside the cage. The adventurers are outside. They will catch us before we even run. No… we cannot even run. We are still trapped inside this thing."

  Helena waved a hand.

  "Do not worry. I will not do a half-assed job. I will free you properly."

  She rose and stretched her limbs, preparing herself. Her gaze drifted toward the one who had been listening since the start.

  "Hey, Mister Coachman. Did you tell your friends the slaves broke out of their shackles?"

  The coachman had indeed been listening from the beginning and had already warned the others. Helena felt the carriage slowing.

  A wooden wall separated him from the slaves. From behind it, he laughed.

  "Hahah, you noticed me at last. But do not worry. None of you will escape. We are ready for this."

  The carriage stopped completely.

  Helena decided to start with him.

  She raised her hand toward the wooden wall, intending to draw metal out of the structure and form a spear. But as she pointed forward, her body froze.

  Her rings were gone.

  She finally noticed. Both hands were bare. No storage rings. No wedding or engagement ring. And worst of all, her husband’s watch was missing from her wrist.

  "What the…"

  The slaves sensed something shift in the air. They did not know why Helena suddenly went still, but the silence felt heavy.

  She lowered her hand slowly and looked at the girl. Her cheerful expression vanished. Her face turned blank, cold, and killing intent seeped out like a slow-moving fog.

  Her voice dropped low.

  "Have you seen my rings and wrist watch?"

  The girl swallowed. Even though Helena was not angry at her, it felt as if a massive hand squeezed her heart.

  "I… I saw Denor take them from your hand," she whispered. She did not know what a wrist watch was, but she recognized the rings.

  That was enough.

  Helena’s voice became ice.

  "They will pay for touching my family’s keepsakes."

  The slaves trembled. She had not raised her voice, yet the promise in those words felt suffocating.

  The girl then noticed something beneath her palm. The carriage floor felt soft, almost like jelly.

  "What…"

  Someone outside shouted,

  "All slaves, come out one by one! Do not resist! No one will escape. If you submit, we will spare you a beating!"

  But before anyone could move, the entire carriage melted. Metal bars liquified like warm wax. The wooden planks lost structure and collapsed. The floor softened and flowed outward. The slaves fell onto the ground as the liquified carriage pooled around them like a living thing.

  Outside, adventurers surrounded them.

  One slave whispered,

  "Damn… it is impossible…"

  The adventurer leader stood near the front, smirking.

  "I do not know how you did that. I do not see any mana, but fine. Surrender. You cannot escape."

  Someone behind him muttered,

  "Damn. A problem at the final stage."

  Helena did not look at the leader. Her gaze locked on a fat man behind him. Denor. Her rings had not fit his swollen fingers, but the watch fit his thick wrist.

  Her husband’s watch.

  Rage erupted inside her, quiet but volcanic.

  The leader sensed danger. He hoped she would negotiate. He hoped she would ask for only her freedom. He would have surrendered her immediately.

  Then he noticed something wrong beneath his boots.

  His feet were inside the earth.

  He had not felt it happen.

  "A trap?" he whispered.

  His party members began to panic.

  "Captain, I cannot move!"

  "My feet are stuck!"

  "Why? Why?"

  Something held them in place.

  Helena walked past them quietly.

  The leader drew his sword. Panic tightened his face.

  Behind him, Denor screamed as his own legs were trapped.

  "Gale! Finish her! Hurry!"

  Gale forced a stiff smile as Helena approached.

  "W-why do we not talk this out?"

  He only needed to distract her for a moment. Behind Helena, long-range adventurers prepared spells and arrows. Magicians whispered incantations. Archers drew back their strings.

  But the arrows turned to dust in mid-air.

  Spikes erupted from the earth behind Helena, impaling every long-range attacker through the head. They died instantly, suspended on the sharp stone like pinned insects.

  Slaves screamed.

  Gale and Denor turned pale.

  Gale whispered,

  "Earth magic…? But we checked."

  Helena never looked at him. Her gaze was fixed on the wrist wearing her husband’s watch.

  Denor tried to crawl away.

  "D-do not come near me!"

  Helena spoke quietly, tiredly.

  "I have heard that line more than a thousand times."

  Denor tried to yank free even if it meant tearing off his own leg. Panic drenched him. The sight of the corpses behind Helena blurred his vision.

  Helena stopped in front of him.

  "Please spare me…" he begged, voice breaking.

  Helena grabbed his arm. Denor screamed,

  She pulled once.

  His arm tore free from his body.

  His scream ripped through the air, raw and agonized. Tears flooded down his cheeks. The pain was unbearable, but Helena did not look at him.

  She lifted the severed arm, removed her husband’s watch with steady hands, and secured it on her wrist. She did not flinch once.

  After retrieving it, she turned back toward Denor, who writhed on the ground, trying desperately to crawl away though his feet remained trapped in the earth.