Arc 1 – Alberto’s departure
For a long time, my conscience which was clouded by nothing but mist gradually became clear.
The body that until recently was unable to move freely, was now capable.
Those long and narrow white ashen arms, and even those short and disappointing legs, can now move at my will.
Until recently, a war was being fought between the Demon Lords Rannu and Beria, which ended with the death of the one who was configured as my master, Rannu.
Since my master died, the spiritual magic that bound me to him for a long time was unleashed, making possible for me to take again the control of my body.
It’s natural that one can move his body at will.
But, for me, doing something as natural as moving your own body was impossible, since that freedom was stolen by a spiritual magic.
That was me, a corpse forced to follow faithfully every order given by the demon lord.
The name of that gargoyle forced to carry such a tragic life is Alberto.
Even though I’m a gargoyle, my name stinks of human as if it belonged to a prince. So if you have a complaint, tell the person who gave it to me.
Well, the one who gave it to me died a long time ago.
It’s not like I’ve been under his control since I was born, though I was for a long time because of that spiritual magic.
My creator as well the one who gave me my name, was a demon who lived in a certain town, until a certain day was killed by the demon lord Rannu. Treated as one more belonging of my creator, the demon lord casted a slave magic, a branch of spiritual magic, over me.
When the slave magic is casted, the free will of the target is stolen, leaving no other option than to follow the orders of your master like a puppet.
Slave magic only works for those with an immature mind or those with little resistance towards magic. But the me of that time who had been born for only a year didn’t have any way to resist that kind of magic.
Those under that magic have to listen to any order so they don’t get to live a long live and are treated as disposable objects.
I may have been a lucky one, since I managed to survive somehow until the death of my master Rannu.
Of course, it’s impossible for those whose freedom was forcibly stolen to feel sad for the death of the one who committed such an act.
The memories of when I was under his control are still vivid.
Forced to fight, getting injured, those unpleasant memories extends over 1500 years.
A part of me wants to take revenge, but it’s a hopeless wish since the one responsible for having casted such magic has already died.
Instead of thinking about it, it will be more constructive to think about how I will survive from now on.
Yes… Now, at last, I’m capable of moving freely, freely to where my desire takes me.
Desire may sound exaggerated, but the me from that time could not do such natural things as eating or sleeping, those desires are nothing but extravagant to me.
（Uu… How much have I waited for this day…?）
Although I now have freedom, I don’t have money, power or honor, I lack everything.
But so what…?
What I was always looking for was one thing and that was freedom.
Freedom, aah… what a beautiful word.
I don’t care how difficult the road will be from now on.
If it’s because of something I’ve always wanted, then it won’t be anything compared to what I went through.
Since I have been freed from my 1500 years of frustration…
（Never again I will let someone stand between my new gargoyle life that has just begun. I will try my best to live as I want!!）
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