Combat Slave Harem-Chapter 50: Hilga’s Back story
The carriage jolted over a stray root, the rhythmic creaking of the wooden wheels the only sound in the vast, emerald expanse of the Southern Wilds.
Inside, Egon sat across from Hilga, watching the way the sunlight filtered through the canopy, dancing in dappled patterns across her silver-white hair.
Hilga was unusually fidgety. Her hands, usually folded perfectly in her lap, were busy smoothing the creases of her traveling cloak. Her lavender eyes darted toward the window every few seconds before settling back on Egon with a look of quiet confusion.
"Master Egon?" her voice was soft, barely rising above the hum of the forest.
"I told you to drop the ’Master’ while we’re on the road, Hilga. To anyone we meet, I’m just a merchant, and you’re my associate."
She bit her lip, nodding slightly. "I apologize. It is a difficult habit to break. But... may I ask again? We have passed the major trading hubs. The southern forests are beautiful, but there are no prominent suppliers of rare silks or exotic spices this deep into the woods. Why are we heading toward the Golden Crow Forest? It is a place of myths and dangerous beasts, not commerce."
Egon watched her carefully. She wad sharper than most gave her credit for.
"Business isn’t always about what you can sell today, Hilga. Sometimes, it’s about securing an asset that hasn’t been discovered yet. Something that will change the value of everything else in the world."
"An asset? Is it a mineral? A rare herb?"
"Something like that," Egon said vaguely. "Tell me, Hilga. You’ve been with Vienna for years. You’ve seen the world at its best and its absolute worst. Do you ever miss your home? Before the Flower Garden?"
Hearing the question. Hilga’s posture stiffened. She looked out the window, her gaze becoming distant, as if she were looking through the trees and across years of trauma.
"My home was not a place of happy memories. The Elven Kingdom of Sylvaris is beautiful to look at, but it is a land of poison for those of my kind. The ’High Elves’ believe the sun was made for them alone. We, the Dark Elves, were seen as a stain upon the forest, like a shadow that needed to be eraded."
Egon remained silent, giving her the space to breathe.
"My tribe lived in the twilight groves," Hilgs’s knuckles turned white.
"We didn’t want their throne or their cities. We just wanted to exist. But the Noble Houses... they saw our affinity for the dark as an affront to their gods. One night, the Sky-Guard came. They didn’t come to negotiate. They came with fire and silver arrows."
She closed her eyes, and for a moment, Egon saw a tear escape the corner of her lid, shimmering like a pearl against her dark skin.
"They eradicated us in a single night. The elders were executed. The young... the young were caged. I remember the smell of burning houses and the sound of my mother telling me to keep my eyes closed. But they killed her too. Later, I was sold at the border markets like a piece of livestock. My price was determined by the strength of my ass and the heaviness of my breasts."
"And then Vienna found you," Egon reminded gently.
Hilga’s face shown warmth to that. "Yes. Mistress Vienna saw me in that cage. I was starving, covered in filth, and ready to die. She didn’t buy me because she needed a maid. She bought me because she saw a person. She broke my chains and told me I was free to go, but I had nowhere to go. No tribe, no family. She gave me a name, a purpose, and a home. My loyalty to her is not out of debt, Egon. It is out of love. I would give my life to ensure her smile never fades."
Egon felt a pang of guilt. He was about to thrust a destiny onto this woman that would likely demand more than just her loyalty. It would demand her soul.
"You have a good heart, Hilga," Egon said gently. "Better than mine. That’s why I want to ask you something. Suppose you had power. Not the power to clean a house or manage a staff, but the kind of power that could make the world tremble. If you were a Hero, the kind from the legends who could change anything. what would you change?"
Hilga looked at him, surprised by the question. She didn’t answer right away. she pondered, looking at her calloused hands that had scrubbed floors and prepared meals with the same diligence.
She looked up at him, and said:
"Equality."
The word was simple, yet it carried the weight of a thousand years of oppression.
"I would make it so no child ever has to close their eyes while their home burns. I would make it so the shadow is not feared by the light, and the light does not seek to burn the shadow. I would make us all just... people."
Egon nodded slowly. It was exactly the answer he needed. Archon would have said ’Glory’ or ’Justice,’ which usually meant his own brand of vengeance. But Hilga wanted balance. Purity of intent.
---
By the third day of their journey, the air grew thick and golden. The trees here were different. Their bark was the color of burnished bronze, and their leaves shimmered like gold leaf in the wind.
This was the Golden Crow Forest, a place where the boundaries between the mundane world and the higher tiers were dangerously thin.
"The air feels dense here," Hilga whispered as they stepped out of the carriage. They had left the driver at the edge of the woods, continuing on foot.
"It feels like someone is watching us."
Egon answered,
"It is The Mana density here is ten times higher than in the Capital. Stay close to me."
They hiked upward, toward a hidden glade nestled between three jagged peaks. As they climbed, the sky began to bruise with purple and charcoal clouds.
Rumble! Rumble!
Thunder rumbled in the distance, but it wasn’t the sound of a storm. It was the sound of space tearing.
Egon’s eyes narrowed. "So soon?!"
"What is that?" Hilga asked, pointing toward the horizon where jagged, glowing crack had appeared in the sky, showing the darkness within. .
Egon said grimly.,
"Its a Rift. The world is breaking, Hilga."
They reached the summit of the Holy mountain just as the sun began to set.
