At the mistress's surprising words, I was momentarily speechless. I felt like my brain shut down and couldn't process her words. What she said was like suddenly a priest telling you, "You are the chosen, young one. Go on a ridiculous quest to find holy relic X. God Y said so.". In other words, it sounded like absolute hogwash. If she wasn't my master, I might have even spat at her face right then and there.

After a small bit, I asked with great doubt, "The gods want me to have it? Grand plan? I do not understand."

The mistress seemed to understand my obvious confusion, so she explained patiently, "My little Mog, what are the odds for you to find something that is almost non-existent in this world less than a day after being purchased? Moreover, something that your master, I, needed desperately to concoct a certain potion of divine origins? There are no such coincidences in this world, Mog. As a pious believer of Ximjun, I refuse to think such a coincidence happened unplanned. Although being embroiled in their plans is beyond rare, it does happen. The first founder of the Fidelis family, Fidelis Giovio Caesar, was embroiled in such a thing over 3,500 years ago, and thanks to that, he became a demigod and the 23rd emperor of the Lamarian empire."

The information was a bit hard to swallow, but in the end, I still accepted it. Indeed, what are the odds of obtaining a god's spark after a single day of being enslaved? Furthermore, to a master who just so happens to be an alchemist researching a godly potion and planned on experimenting on me?

Anyone who heard such a thing will immediately attribute it to the gods' whims, and that includes me.

Ever since the founding of the Lamarian empire almost 5,000 years ago, 82 emperors ruled over it. Every emperor had to go through several qualifications to become a candidate to the throne. First and foremost, all emperors must be Lamarian citizens. Second, they must possess the strength of a demigod. Third, they should have never ruled a kingdom or empire before, including other nations and the Lamarian empire itself. Four, they must be sanctioned by the temples.

Once these four conditions are met, the Senate will elect a new emperor out of multiple candidates. The newly coronated emperor will change his last name to Caesar and rule for the next 100 years unless he somehow dies or vacates the post, which will require a new emperor. The current emperor, for example, has only ruled for 22 years now since his election. The position is an elective one, and as such, a prince is not necessarily going to inherit the throne. Nevertheless, being a prince or princess that somehow becomes a demigod brings a great boon to the chances of being elected.

In any case, to turn a man into a demigod and emperor through the whims of gods... Is not exaggerated. As for me being embroiled in the gods' plans, I held mixed feelings about it. Sure, the rewards are great, but there are risks involved, no less than the rewards. For every hero who emerged through the stories, many became martyred one way or another.

The only question is, will I be a champion of the gods from fables and legends? Or will I die valiantly as a martyr? Only time will tell. But, such things are not for me to think about for the near future. For now, there was a more pressing matter.

I asked warily, "What's the catch? Surely, you won't give me, a mere slave, something so precious for free, right? My father always taught me that there are no free lunches in this world."

The mistress solemnly nodded and paced, "You are correct. Even if the gods have plans for you, everything has a price, and I plan on taking it in full. Except for the god's spark, I have gathered by myself all the other eight ingredients. Each one of them costs over a hundred times your overinflated worth in the auction, at least, if not more. Also, I, a peak B-rank alchemist, will be mixing it personally. The resulting potion is something that can cause wars. It's worth can't be calculated with silver and gold."

I smiled bitterly and asked, "Then what can I offer? I can only swear an oath of allegiance under Damaq to serve you for some time."

Swearing an allegiance oath means that I would be her subordinate even if my slave contract somehow breaks. In simple terms, it means that I will remain her slave, just under a god's watch. How she treats me from then on is at her whims. In short, I am selling myself for power. Then again, my current situation isn't any better. I should be thankful I am even treated this good. Others would not be as fortunate as I, and I know that very well.

At my words, she fell silent and paced about, calculating to herself. I did not interrupt as I patiently awaited her verdict. Although we are in unequal positions of master and slave, she will not give me abusive terms. As she said, it is the gods' will. Besides, she swore an oath of fairness on her patron god, Ximjun. She will give me a reasonable price, whether she likes it or not.

After waiting for over ten minutes, the mistress finally stopped.

She turned to me and uttered with a pained look, "100 years."

I blinked, not understanding her meaning, "100 years?"

The mistress slowly nodded, "Yes, 100 years. I wanted to ask for 200 but decided to ask for only 100 in the end. I want you to swear an oath of allegiance to me under Damaq for 100 years. After that, you will not knowingly harm me, directly or indirectly. That is all I ask."

My mind once again blanked out as reality hit me. I began calculating with my math skills. 100 years. A century. Ten times my current age of 10. Twenty times the age of 5, the age where I started remembering things fluidly. By the time I finish the oath, I will be 110 years old, even older than my father, who died at 79 years old. For a commoner, it is two lifetimes. It is too much of an astronomical figure for the young me to comprehend.

Half a minute later, I came back to my senses and asked in disbelief, "You want me to serve you for 100 years?!"

The price she asked for was exorbitant. Debt slaves would usually be able to free themselves by the age of 40. Even crime slaves, unless they committed something horrible, would be released by that age. The lifespan of professionals can theoretically reach 200 years, but it is only the theoretical lifespan. Injuries and a bad lifestyle can reduce lifespan to even below a commoner's. Even a weak demigod's lifespan was only 250 years.

In my opinion, her request was unreasonably exorbitant. Where is the fairness in that?!

I couldn't help but voice out in protest, "100 years is too much! How many years can I live?! Even demigods have a lifespan of 250 years!"

The mistress sneered at my argument and countered, "The fact that you said that means you have no idea of the meaning and potential of this potion. This potion will grant you perfect talent in everything. You can become a perfect hybrid of strength and magic, a Paragon, and you can pick any profession out there, a master of all. If you manage to become a demigod, you will be unbeatable on the same level."

She continued, "Also, how long do you think your lifespan will be? A mere 250 years? That is just the basic level for demigods who hastily advance and are without potential. You will have the sturdiest foundation out there, and you can reach even higher. Having a lifespan of over 1,000 years is not impossible to obtain. By then, you will not view 100 years with such weight. Besides, it is not like I would be mistreating you during that time. On the contrary, I would be grooming you like a scion of a great family! Such treatment is unheard of!"

She then asked in a harsh tone, "With an advanced talent, even with my full support, how long do you think it will take for you to reach A-rank? 50 years? 70 years? Unless you obtain some opportunity from the divine or some dormant talent, with such talent, you will find it hard to reach demigodhood in your short lifespan, and even then, you will likely be a mediocre one. That, my dear Mog, is a fact, tested by thousands of years of trial and error. My condition is very fair and reasonable. Also, under my oath to Ximjun, you can be sure I would treat you fairly. Others would sell their souls for such an opportunity, not to mention just a measly 100 years."

As she said all this, I began to accept the reality of it. I was naive and ignorant. I was Narrow-minded. A hundred years is a whole two lifetimes for a commoner. But to a demigod, it is early childhood. By the time I finish my oath, I will be 110 years old. If I succeed in becoming a demigod, I will have my entire life ahead of me. If I fail, I can still work for the mistress until my death. It is a far better fate than most. Also, there is the time I am already serving her as a slave, which coincides with the contract. In short, I will, in actuality, only lose around 50 years of my life.

Although I have a special talent, it is still dormant, and I don't know when it will awaken. Perhaps today? Tomorrow? Next year? In 20 years? 100 years? Gods know when. Even if it does awaken, I don't know what it will do! That is not all. I might get killed before that. I still remember that part of my duties is to guard her and fight in her name. I also might get secretly or openly killed by her competitors in the family feuds or even her ex-fiance, the prince.

In any case, I have little to lose at this point and little choice in the matter. I might as well go all in. Instead of a shackled slave on her ship, I will be a free crew member of my own volition. At least my treatment would be better.

After a long silence, I uttered, "Fine. Let us swear then."

The mistress finally nodded with satisfaction, "Good. I have a contract prepared already."

She went to a shelf and pulled out a blank scroll, and she also took an ink case and a quill from another shelf.

She sat in front of me and opened the scroll, "We shall write the detail of the oath here and now, right in front of you. If you have any objections to any clause, tell me beforehand."

I solemnly nodded and remained silent. Damaq demands fairness in such things. Even if you screw yourself over, he wants you to agree to it first. And with a sober mind, no less. There was no room for trickery and deceit, only truth and fairness. Only then will an oath be valid.

She opened the ink box, dipped the quill inside, and asked, "Mog, are you allowing me to write in your stead?"

I nodded, "Yes, go ahead."

I needed to agree for her to write it, too.

She nodded and said aloud slowly while writing, "I shall now say what I write, word by word.

I, Mog, hereby wish to swear a conditional oath of allegiance to Consentia Fidelis under the name of Damaq, god of Judgement and Fairness. I hereby swear to do the following:

1. I shall listen to all orders of Consentia Fidelis as long as they don't contradict my moral code, profane the gods, harm Consetia Fidelis and her interests unreasonably, or harm myself unreasonably.
2. I shall protect Consentia Fidelis to the best of my abilities.
3. I shall avoid knowingly harming Cosentia Fidelis directly or indirectly unless ordered otherwise.
4. I shall actively strive to help Consentia Fidelis to the best of my abilities, as long as I don't contradict the above clauses or leads to unreasonable self-harm.

My conditions are:

1. To receive the complete lesser Paragon potion that was promised to me, that contains the god's spark, made by Consentia Fidelis. (Within a week of signing the contract.)
2. To receive Consentia Fidelis's support in a reasonable amount whenever reasonably possible. (If the potion doesn't work, this clause will be suspended unless proven otherwise.)
3. To not be unreasonably punished or abused by Consentia Fidelis directly or indirectly.

I demand that Consentia Fidelis swears in return on Damaq's name:

1. That in case the potion does not work, I shall still receive fair and honorable treatment. I shall keep my post as a high-ranking servant and still receive training if I so wish and the situation allows it.

The duration of the contract will be from the 18th of the month of War on the year 4993 of the new holy calendar to the 18th of the month of War on the year 5093. Once the contract ends, I shall be free of all bounds to Consentia Fidelis.

If Consentia Fidelis dies before the end of the contract or my conditions and demands are unfulfilled, the contract shall prematurely end.

After the contract ends, I shall not knowingly harm Consentia Fidelis directly or indirectly while unprovoked and vice versa. I shall keep all secrets that can potentially harm Consentia Fidelis to the grave and vice versa."

At that point, she finished writing, put aside the quill, and gave me the scroll carefully.

She said, "Here is the contract. Check it yourself. When you are done, we shall begin."

I nodded and took the contract and checked it. Honestly, I didn't find anything wrong with it. The conditions were simple and direct. It was fair and reasonable, and I couldn't find fault in it. However, I still needed some clarifications. Father always said that when making a deal, always look at the fine prints, or I will get tricked.

I asked, "What does "don't contradict my moral code, profane the gods, harm Consetia Fidelis and her interests unreasonably, or harm myself unreasonably" mean?"

The mistress patiently explained, "It means that if I give an order that is too horrid, such as killing a bunch of elderly, women, and children, you have the right to refuse the order. If my order potentially profanes the gods, it is the same. If my orders are unreasonable, say, if I am drunk or drugged, and I order you to kill me or yourself, you can resist the order if you believe it contradicts my interests or our well-being unreasonably. It depends on your better judgment, and I cannot order you to an assured death if you perceive it as such."

I nodded and pointed next, "What does to the best of my abilities mean?"

"It means to protect it as much as you reasonably can. If you are away from me, naturally, you can't protect me, right? If you are unconscious or too injured, you cannot protect me. If we are besieged by enemies, you cannot protect me all the time, and I might inevitably die. This is so that you are not held accountable if you have tried your best to protect me."

"What does the knowingly part mean? What is directly or indirectly unless ordered otherwise."

"It means that, if you have even the slightest suspicion that you might hurt directly or indirectly me, you shall refrain from certain actions. That is, unless I order otherwise, which will return you to clause 1."

"What does the fourth clause mean?"

"It means that you need to actively strive to do actions that are to my benefit as long as they do not contradict the first three clauses or lead to unreasonably harming yourself. It is lax and depends on your interpretations."

I nodded in satisfaction. My oath wasn't too harsh, and there was wiggle room in it. There were also the conditions I requested. The potion was a no-brainer, and I appreciated that she added the part where the god's spark will be inside it. However, the second condition was a bit foggy.

"What does the second condition mean?"

"It means that you shall receive a reasonable amount of support from me whenever the time, place, and situation allows it. It is a lax rule since I cannot promise you at all times to give you the same constant support wherever we are. For example, if we are to go to the frontlines in some war, I can't keep chugging potions at you, now can I? However, if we are somewhere peaceful, such as here, I shall use part of my wealth and resources to support you, as long as I can afford it. Also, if the potion somehow fails or has unexpected effects, I need to reconsider how many resources I invest in you. After all, if you don't have the potential to reach demigodhood, I have no reason to keep investing in you the same amount of resources."

I nodded. That was fair. The rest of the oath was as written. Only one thing I didn't understand, though.

"What is vice versa?"

The mistress looked a bit surprised but then answered, "It means that you expect the same treatment the other way around. It means that anything that applies to you will also apply to me."

I smiled and nodded. I was content with this oath. It was fair and humane to surprising extents. It was far less demeaning and demanding than slave contracts and even brought me benefits. I had no qualms swearing such an oath.

I couldn't help but ask, "Are all contracts like this?"

The mistress shook her head, "No, I am afraid not. The oath I wrote you is the most humane and fair oath you can get. Other oaths are sometimes stupidly strict and unfair. For example, there are oaths where if I die, you will also die. There are oaths where the third condition doesn't exist and I can freely torture you. Without the second condition, I can make you go idle until you reach old age and die. Without the moral code part, any order I make, no matter how loathsome, you will have to commit, rape and infanticide included. Naturally, most oaths are like the one I gave you, just a bit less kind. People like being humane, and only madmen will be cruel to their subordinates and subjects, especially if they are already doing their best. That is a fact that applies to most people. Otherwise, only madmen would swear oaths."

I thought for a bit, and then bowed and thanked, "Thank you, mistress, for your generosity."

The mistress shook her head again and said, "As I said, it is part of my oath. Now then, if there are no objections, let us sign the contract and be done with it. It is almost dinner time."

Gurgle*

At her words, my stomach seemed to agree, to which she chuckled.

"It seems like your tummy agrees, hehe."

I could only smile awkwardly and say, "Alright. So how do I swear it?"

The mistress pointed at the scroll and said, "Just swear on Damaq's name that you accept all read and understood terms of the contract. I will need to accept the contract and then it will be done."

I nodded, looked at the oath, took a deep breath, and said, "Damaq, god of judgment and fairness. I, Mog, with a sober and unforced mind, hereby swear an oath of allegiance to Consentia Fidelis upon the contents of this scroll that I read and understood."

The mistress also followed with a solemn voice, "Damaq, god of judgment and fairness. I, Consentia Fidelis, with a sober and unforced mind, hereby accept Mog's oath of allegiance and swear an oath to fulfill the demands stated in this scroll that I read and understood."

When she finished her words, something magical happened. The ink words on the scroll shined and condensed into a ball of light. Then, before I could react, the ball of light split into two and shot to both our foreheads.

After the ball entered my forehead, the oath seemed to become part of me. I knew the contract perfectly, and I knew what I must do to follow it and not break it. Also, I knew what would happen if I break it on instinct. I shall be branded as an oathbreaker, damning myself and my soul to divine punishment.

The mistress and I locked gazes, and we both smiled and nodded to each other. If before, I was her slave, now, for good or bad, I am her subordinate and confidante for the next 100 years.

Although I am still a slave in a sense, at least it is out of choice now, so I am content.