DMS Chapter 181

Flinx knew that what he had done for the men wasn't a solution. It was merely a small act of kindness.

If he truly wanted to help them, he needed to find a permanent solution.

He felt that he owed it to himself to help Hart and his men because their situation was strikingly similar to what he and the other Earthlings had experienced. In fact, Flinx admitted that the serfs had suffered even more, having lived as slaves for generations.

Helping them, he realized, would also help him heal.

Lately, he had been prioritizing his own mental well-being. If he had remained on Earth instead of losing his transmigration system, he would have sought the help of a professional therapist.

He remembered a time when he had scoffed at people who went to therapy, believing it was something only wealthy people did. Now he understood that professionals such as psychiatrists and psychologists were genuinely necessary for some people.

The first idea that came to mind was something he had seen countless fantasy protagonists do.

He could stay here, build a settlement, and help these men—and anyone else who found refuge with them—prosper until they eventually formed a nation of free and independent people.

With his powerful magic and access to the System Shopping Site, such a dream wasn't impossible.

It would, however, be an enormous undertaking that would consume decades of his life.

The more he thought about it, the more unrealistic it seemed. Worse, it could end up causing countless deaths.

Flinx wasn't finished helping his fellow dungeon miner slaves. He expected many of them to ask to return to this world with their families someday, and he was the only person capable of making that happen.

Nor had he abandoned his desire for revenge against the Torbal Slavers. He knew he wasn't the only one who still carried that resentment.

One could argue that if he established a safe settlement for escaped serfs, he could bring the former dungeon miners there and ask them to help build it.

The problem was that he didn't want to burden them with that responsibility.

They deserved the freedom to choose how they would live after everything they had endured.

Besides, despite how pleasant the beginning of his journey had been, this world was undeniably cruel.

If the surrounding kingdoms discovered that a settlement founded by escaped serfs had suddenly appeared, Flinx was convinced they would move to destroy it. Any nation that relied on slavery or serfdom would never allow such an example to exist.

As absurdly powerful as his transmigration system was, Flinx doubted he could defend an entire nation against the combined military might of Nemronor. Worse still, neighboring kingdoms might join the invasion to protect their own interests.

With that realization, he abandoned the idea of founding his own nation.

His next thought was to relocate the serfs somewhere else using Teleport or Plane Shift. He could even bring them to Earth.

He considered the possibility for a while before dismissing it as equally unrealistic.

In the end, he wasn't a saint.

He was, by his own admission, a lazy person.

He didn't want to dedicate the rest of his life to a responsibility that would consume nearly all of his time. He still wanted to travel this world—and others—to see the countless wonders they held. He couldn't do that if he spent the rest of his life managing a city.

That meant the best he could do was help these twelve men instead of trying to save every serf and slave in the world.

He then considered taking the men somewhere they would be accepted despite their serf brands.

Suddenly, Flinx nearly slapped himself.

The brand.

That was the real problem.

He was a Cleric, for crying out loud.

He possessed the spell Regenerate, a miracle capable of restoring missing flesh and even severed limbs.

He could simply remove the section of flesh bearing each man's brand before casting Regenerate to heal the wound completely. Fresh skin would grow in its place, erasing the brand forever.

Without those brands, they would become ordinary people.

They could enter Ilioven without issue.

Granted, their Nemronor accents would likely attract attention, and the guards would probably inspect them. However, once it became clear that none of them bore a serf brand, they would be allowed to enter after paying the entrance tax.

Flinx could easily provide the necessary coins.

He could even give them enough money to start new lives wherever they wished.

Since Hart and his men had already been through so much that day, Flinx decided not to bring up the matter immediately. He would tell them the good news the following morning.

Everyone looked happier now that they were clean and well fed.

Flinx noticed that all of them had overgrown hair and unkempt beards, so he asked whether anyone knew how to cut hair.

As expected, no one did.

Flinx decided to do it himself by following a video tutorial.

The first thing he did was purchase twelve razors and ask Hart to have everyone shave.

When Hart asked why, Flinx replied that he still wasn't completely convinced the illness had been eliminated and wanted everyone to remain as clean as possible. Shaving their beards would help.

Since none of the men were particularly attached to their facial hair, and with Flinx providing soap and water, they quickly finished shaving.

Once everyone was clean-shaven, Flinx showed them the hair-cutting scissors he had purchased and offered to trim their hair as well.

By now, the men held Flinx in such high regard that every one of them readily volunteered.

Before beginning, Flinx had them wash their hair with shampoo.

Even though Prestidigitation had already cleaned them thoroughly, he still preferred that they shampoo their hair before he started cutting it.

Overall, he was extremely satisfied with the results.

He kept their hair fairly long, having noticed that long hairstyles were common among the men of this world.

Later that evening, after everyone had settled down to rest, Hart approached him.

"I'd like to speak with you," the older man said.

Once they were alone, Hart asked quietly, "Why are you doing all of this for us?"

"I pity all of you, and I don't want you to die," Flinx answered honestly. "I'll tell you something. I have a way to remove your serf brands. Tomorrow, I'll remove every one of them. Once they're gone, I'll give you enough money to start new lives in Ilioven."

He paused before asking, "What do you plan to do after that?"

Flinx was startled when Hart suddenly broke down.

The man tried his best to suppress his sobs so the others wouldn't hear him, but tears streamed freely down his face.

After calming himself, Hart asked once more why Flinx was helping them.

Flinx admitted that he had once had friends who had been captured and sold into slavery. He told Hart that he had managed to rescue them, but he didn't wish to speak about it any further.

Hart simply nodded in understanding.

"If you truly intend to give us the money," Hart said, "then the best thing we can do is return to what we know best."

"Farming."

"We'll buy a piece of land large enough for all of us, purchase seeds and livestock, and begin new lives as free farmers of Ilioven."