"Oh?"

　　Commoners and slaves were indeed obliged to address n.o.blemen as "milord." Therefore, as a "human" and de facto slave, by law, Konrad should have referred to Anselm as "milord."

　　"You've already fallen to this state, and instead of begging for mercy and release, you want me to call you…milord? I don't know if I should feel impressed or amused."

　　"Did I say something wrong? Even in evil, you should not lose decorum. Since I am a lord and you a slave, it is right and proper for you to refer to me as such."

　　Anselm replied while still not sparing Konrad a glance.

　　"Wrong, very wrong. First, you are not a lord. You would need to at least be at the Grand Knight or Priest Ranks for that.

　　Second, what makes you think I'm not a demon lord in disguise."

　　"Humph!"

　　Anselm scoffed at Konrad's words. But at that time, a vast surge of demonic energies erupted from Konrad's body and barreled into the sitting Anselm. Feeling the infernal force, his eyes sprang open and alarmed, he stood up.

　　"You are…a demon?"

　　"Duh."

　　The realization that he was dealing with more than the typical kidnapper suddenly hit Anselm. At first, when he was knocked out and captured by an unknown a.s.sailant, he'd believed himself in the hands of a blackmailer of sorts or some enemy of house Kracht. The days spent alone within his cell made him lean on the former.

　　However, it seemed he'd underestimated the gravity of the situation.

　　"What do you want from me?"

　　"How about, a contract of eternal servitude?"

　　"What?"

　　Anselm's eyes widened for an instant, but soon afterward, he glowered at Konrad.

　　"I'd rather die."

　　"Dying is simple. It is living that is difficult. There is no glory in freely being able to say -I'd rather die.- Especially when we consider that you don't have much to live for.

　　Average talent. No elders to watch over you. No background, t.i.tle, or responsibilities. You don't have friends, significant others, anyone who would mourn your loss. So why would you not rather die?"

　　"You!"

　　It seemed Konrad had struck a nerve. Veins beat on Anselm's temple as he grabbed the bar and yelled at him.

　　If his eyes could Kill, Konrad would have died a thousand times.

　　"Me what? Sit."

　　Telekinetic power surged from Konrad's form and pressed Anselm onto the ground.

　　"Is the truth not pleasant to hear? If it was, why would people lie? Instead of boiling with pointless rage and putting up a front of false bravado, why don't you listen to my offer?"