Awakening Domination System: But I'm a Slave?-Chapter 19: Promotion

[Ding!]

[Bonus Quest: Leave a Lasting Impression on Livia Duskwood – Completed!]

[Rewards: +50 Domination Points | +5 CHA | +10 EXP]

Alaric exhaled slowly, shoulders loosening as the soft blue panel blinked out of sight.

He stretched his arms lazily, his bones cracking, then rolled his neck with a quiet grunt and turned back toward the hallway.

Not bad, he thought. Not bad at all.

His shoes padded lightly against the stone as he began walking down the long corridor—quiet, casual, like nothing had happened.

But just as he turned the corner—

He stopped.

Muffled voices. Sharp. Angry.

Laced with drunken slurs and snarled curses, spilling from behind the oak door at the far end.

Alaric's eyes narrowed.

Then—

Thump! Thump! THUMP!

Footsteps. Rushed. Heavy.

The door slammed open with a crash, and a fatty man stormed out—shoulders squared, cheeks red from alcohol and rage.

Ferick Glimor.

The bastard.

Alaric barely had time to step aside before Ferick barreled toward him, eyes glazed and unfocused.

And then—

SMACK!

Ferick's arm slammed into him like a battering ram, knocking Alaric off balance.

Alaric stumbled back a step, catching himself before he could fall flat.

Ferick sneered, his breath thick with wine. "Watch where you're walking, maggot."

Alaric's jaw clenched. He straightened slowly, brushing his shoulder off like swatting a fly.

"Drunken piece of—"

Ferick stopped, turned, and sneered.

But instead of a punch or another shove, he just spat at Alaric's feet.

"You're lucky today, slave. I don't have time to teach you manners. Got more important things to do," he muttered, his voice slurred but bitter.

He didn't wait for a response, simply turned and stormed off, cloak billowing behind him.

Alaric stood there, jaw tight, watching his back.

Then he spat to the side.

Wiped his face with the back of his sleeve.

What could that bastard possibly be busy with... other than drowning in wine or fucking some poor girl in bothreal's name, he muttered in his mind, eyes narrowing.

Useless prick.

He let the silence settle again. The hallway returned to stillness.

Then he turned away from the corridor, brushing off the lingering irritation from Ferick's shove, and resumed walking.

His footsteps echoed faintly on the floor.

But as he stepped into the central hall, the tension in his chest faltered.

His eyes landed on her.

Selene Glimor.

She sat alone on a velvet sofa, legs crossed, sipping from a delicate porcelain cup.

The golden light from the high windows framed her like a painting—elegant, untouchable.

Without even looking, she spoke, her voice calm and poised.

"Wondering why you're in a servant's outfit again?"

Alaric halted mid-step.

His eyes dropped briefly to the black-and-grey outfit he'd barely registered putting on—its trim, the fitted collar, the polished look of a uniform made for appearances rather than labor.

He hadn't questioned it earlier.

But now...

He bowed slightly. freewёbnoνel.com

Not in respect.

Not in fear.

Just... instinct.

A man nodding to a lioness.

"Yes," he said simply. "I still don't know."

Selene finally turned her head.

Her emerald eyes locked onto his.

Then she set the cup down with a quiet clink and said,

"Well, you've been promoted."

Alaric blinked. "Promoted?"

She gave a faint smile—amused, unreadable.

"From slave... to servant."

The words hung in the air.

She waved a hand gracefully.

"I told you before," she said, her voice calm but cool, "If you do your job well, I'll reward you. I'm simply keeping my word."

Alaric stood still for a heartbeat.

Then another.

He nodded once, slow.

Understood.

Then with a flick of her fingers, Selene gestured toward a nearby maid.

"Show him to his new quarters," she said coolly, her gaze lingering on Alaric for just a second longer before turning away. "And explain his duties."

The servant girl nodded and stepped forward without a word.

Selene stood up, her presence as commanding as ever, and without another word, swept out of the hall.

Click! Click!

Her heels clicking softly against the marble floor until the sound faded entirely.

The maid turned to Alaric. "Follow me."

She led him through the winding halls of the manor, speaking with polite efficiency.

"You'll be assisting with general maintenance in the inner quarters, attending to garden upkeep in the mornings, and reporting directly to the head maid when called. Keep your head down. Be fast. Be quiet."

Alaric merely nodded.

By the time he returned from his tasks—sweeping through corridors, cleaning the polished floors, helping in the garden—the sun had already dipped low beneath the horizon.

The sky was painted with hues of deep purples and fading gold, and the manor had grown quieter, blanketed in soft candlelight.

Exhausted, Alaric returned to his room.

He sat down.

Then lay back slowly.

The mattress creaked beneath him.

The day's events weighing heavy on his limbs.

The quiet hum of the night surrounded him as his eyes slowly began to close.

But just as he was about to fall asleep—

[DING!]

A familiar blue panel popped infront of him.

[System Upgrade Requirements Met.]

[Would Host like to initiate system upgrade now?]

[Yes!]/[No!]

He opened his eyes, smirking.

"Why not?"

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YOO!

How are you guys, and sorry for not updating yesterday. My exams are going on and I had to update my first book regularly, so I didn't had much time.

ENJOY!

see you guys tomorrow--

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