Obedient Only to Me! Sir Knight - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

At the southernmost edge of the continent lay the nation of Seraphila—a kingdom composed of over two thousand islands. A dreamlike paradise of blazing sunlight, deep azure seas, and golden sand, Seraphila was beloved as a retreat for nobles from many lands. Across its countless isles stood opulent manors and castles, each erected as a testament to the wealth and pride of its family.

This ancient fortress was one such example. Its history stretched back as far as that of the Empire itself, its walls adorned with the finest stones and precious gems, radiating an air of timeless elegance.

Yet now, long abandoned and left to decay, the once-majestic stronghold had succumbed to the wear of years, its only remaining aura one of eerie desolation. Though a new master had recently taken ownership, little had changed since. The castle remained shrouded in perpetual gloom.

—Josef.
“Lowie. What’s gotten into you lately? You’ve been calling me every single day—so unlike you.”

Having been quiet for a while, here came another unexpected call. Josef flipped through his papers absentmindedly as he answered. His dear friend, who had been exiled—under the polite guise of ‘recuperation’—to the far end of the continent, hadn’t even said a proper goodbye when he left, and contacted him only when it suited him.

—Are you busy?
“Of course I’m busy. But for you, my one and only friend, I can spare a call. It’s not even a visual one, just your voice, so why not.”
—Thank you.

Did he hear that right? Josef set his papers down and stared at the communication orb, its crimson light flickering softly.

“What did you just say?”
—I said, thank you.
“…I’m sorry, Lowie, but have you lost your mind?”

Lowie, saying thank you—to him, no less? Surely, the man had finally gone mad. It had been two years since Josef last saw him. The assumption seemed more than plausible.

—Josef. I miss you.

Good heavens. He had gone mad. A shiver ran down Josef’s entire body.

“Hey—hey! Are you okay? I swear, you sound completely deranged right now.”
—Josef… sob…
“What—are you crying? Don’t tell me you’re actually crying?! Holy hell, the world must be ending! Cut it out, you’re scaring me!”

Josef cursed under his breath, startled. Hearing his familiar voice, Lowie only cried harder. He hadn’t gone insane, as Josef suspected. Rather… after two years on the island, Lowie was now suffering from severe depression.

“So, in short… you’re lonely.”
—Yeah.

After Lowie’s tearful breakdown, Josef abandoned his work altogether and initiated a visual call. His mad friend had clearly lost it, and Josef was dying to see what that madness looked like. Soon enough, Lowie’s red, tear-streaked eyes appeared before him.

“You look awful.”

He’d clearly had a hard time of it—his beautiful face was pale and thin. Josef clicked his tongue pitifully.

Lowie Irad—the precious golden scion born to the illustrious House of Irad. Raised amidst luxury, gifted with staggering magical power, and brilliant enough to graduate from the Imperial Academy at the youngest age in history—a prodigy in every sense. His talent in magic ranked among the very best across the continent.

Had it not been for that incident, he would have become the youngest Chief Magician of the Imperial Court.

“Your face is the only thing saving you,” Josef muttered. “If not for that, you’d have been dead long ago.”

Unfortunately, there were a few things Lowie lacked—namely, social skills, common sense, and basic decency.

Though born of noble blood and having never even stepped near a mage’s tower, Lowie’s behavior rivaled that of the most eccentric madmen who lived there. No—he was worse, for he bore the name of House Irad behind him. His bizarre magical experiments for the sake of research had long been infamous.

The Devil of the Capital, the Shame of Irad, the Empire’s Nightmare—these were the titles that followed him. Even his own family regarded him as a disgrace. In a long line of martial nobles, Lowie was nothing more than an ill-fitting, jagged stone.

In an attempt to rid themselves of their troublesome offspring, Duke Irad had committed his greatest folly: presenting his pretty-faced son to the Crown Prince as a potential consort. But the stiff, humorless prince and the irreverent Lowie could not have been more incompatible.

And then came that incident—during Lowie’s coming-of-age ceremony, just a week before their engagement was to be formalized. Lowie had refused the match, but the family had overruled him. In defiance, he retaliated by declaring—

“The Crown Prince’s… thing is tiny. It doesn’t even work.”

He had shouted it loud enough for all of noble society to hear, his magically amplified voice echoing across the capital. The empire erupted in chaos. The enraged Crown Prince had drawn his sword, vowing to kill the insolent brat on the spot.

And thus, Lowie’s grand debut into society ended with his exile to one of Seraphila’s farthest islands—a fittingly dramatic farewell for someone like him.

“Has it really been two years already?”

Ha, still funny. Josef chuckled to himself.

The capital, ever hungry for gossip, had long since forgotten Lowie. But Josef still laughed whenever he remembered that day. It was the only reason he still answered Lowie’s calls.

“What could you possibly be missing? Don’t tell me the servants there are bullying you?”

Lowie shook his head. The servants on the island were native-born Seraphilans, who had served its masters for generations. Their reverence bordered on worship, and as a noble to his bones, Lowie rather enjoyed it. However…

—The people here are cold.
“What?” Josef burst out laughing. “Hah! Cold? You’re saying that?”

Lowie, complaining that others lacked warmth—Josef nearly fell out of his chair laughing. But Lowie was dead serious.

—They don’t treat me like a person. They don’t even talk to me.
“Pfft—You used to like that! Isn’t that your ideal world? No one to bother you?”

Lowie had always been peculiar—hopeless at human interaction, constantly at odds with others, seemingly content in solitude. When he’d announced his plan to move to the island, Josef had thought it a brilliant decision.

But now, seeing him truly lonely… it was almost poetic. Josef laughed again, shaking his head. Truly, only a duke’s son could be so contradictory. After two years, it wasn’t loneliness—it was boredom.

“Classic you. So what now? Want to visit the capital for a bit?”
—No. It’s too far.
“Thought so. Then what? If you’re lonely… why not get a dog?”
—A dog?

Lowie’s eyes lit up at the unfamiliar word.

“If you want, I can get you a purebred one. Though, I’ve heard mixed-breeds are more loyal.”
—Loyal?
“Yeah. You’ve never had a dog before, right? Or even a hawk, for that matter.”
—No.

Most nobles kept hawks—some dozens of them—for hunting. Josef himself owned twelve, though they required far more care than expected. Considering Lowie could barely care for himself, the idea of him raising one was absurd.

“A dog would be easier. Less work than a hawk. The servants can handle the chores; you just pet it when you’re lonely and take it for walks. Maybe even train it to hunt a bit. Once it recognizes you as its master, it’ll never betray you.”
—Really?
“Of course. I can find one for you—or better yet, you could choose it yourself. It’ll be your companion, after all.”
—Okay. I’ll do that. Thanks, Josef.
“Uh… sure.”

In ten years of friendship, Josef had never once heard Lowie say thank you—and now, twice in one day. Feeling uneasy, Josef muttered an awkward farewell and ended the call. Meanwhile, Lowie had already forgotten him entirely, brimming with excitement at the thought of getting a loyal, adorable dog.

Though he’d never cared much for animals, Lowie at least knew what a dog looked like. Humming in high spirits, he imagined his future companion and hurried outside. If he missed the tide, he wouldn’t be able to leave the island today.

The only problem was—he had absolutely no idea where one might buy a dog.

“Prepare the boat. We’re going to the slave market.”

A thought perfectly befitting a noble to his core—dogs or slaves, to him, it made little difference. Thus began Lowie’s long-awaited excursion.

“I’ve come to look at dogs.”
“D-Dogs… you say?”

Karl, the overseer of the slave market, broke into a nervous sweat. The young man before him, with his gleaming silver hair and clear blue eyes, was easily more beautiful than any pleasure slave Karl had ever handled. Comparing a noble to a slave was punishable by death, but having spent his life surrounded by slaves, Karl couldn’t help but make the mental comparison.

Well, as they say—if there’s nothing else to think about, even a commoner might dare curse a king in private. Still, the deeply ingrained servility of a man born common made Karl bow again and again before Lowie, too afraid to stand upright.

“If it’s dogs you seek…”
“Don’t you know what a dog is?”

Lowie’s brows arched sharply. Karl sucked in a panicked breath and hurriedly gestured for him to follow.

“Ah, of course, my lord! Yes, yes, this way, please. Are you looking for a female or a male?”
“Hm.”

Lowie hesitated at the unexpected question. Right—dogs had sexes, didn’t they?

“Loyal ones must be males, right?”

The only dogs he’d ever seen were hunting hounds—fierce creatures that couldn’t possibly be female, or so he thought. Smiling faintly, Lowie imagined his dog obediently fetching its master’s prey.

“Yes, yes, indeed, males tend to be more loyal,” Karl stammered.

Beautiful as an angel, yet with the taste of a devil. Karl’s face turned pale. Oblivious to the misunderstanding, Lowie followed eagerly.

Josef’s hawk was named Bin, he mused. Then I’ll name mine Ban.

A lazy choice, but that wasn’t the point. What mattered was that Lowie would be naming someone—creating meaning in his lonely world.

His mood soared. For the first time in ages, the fog of depression lifted. His steps quickened as Karl pushed open a door ahead of him.

“Here we are, my lord. Take your time—there’s plenty to choose from!”
“What is this?”

Lowie’s face immediately fell. Instead of dogs, he was met by a group of young boys, drugged into dazed compliance, barely clothed, staring at him through glassy eyes.

“D-Do none of them please you? Only the finest beauties, I swear! Well-trained, too!”

Karl wiped sweat from his brow, desperate. Dreaming of making this the finest slave market on the continent, he couldn’t afford to lose favor with a noble client. He’d gathered only his best merchandise—if this didn’t please the young master, his reputation would plummet.

“Please, take a closer look! I’m sure you’ll find one to your liking! You there—bring that one over!”

As the attendants dragged a boy forward, Lowie’s expression twisted completely.

He’d come to buy a dog.