Was it because he was a Beastmen?
Perhaps Rocco had saved him on a whim, grown tired of him, and now sought to discard him.
What could he do to keep Rocco's attention?
How could he ensure he wouldn't be abandoned?
Rocco was the one savior Ragar had ever known.
If it meant staying by Rocco's side, Ragar would defy the gods or even cast his life into the fires of hell.
Rocco had called his ugly scars a "badge of honor." For someone who thought so highly of him, Ragar would do anything.
"Ragar, you look like you have something to say," Rocco said, breaking the silence. "If you have an opinion, you have to voice it properly."
Startled, Ragar realized he must have let his expression slip.
Seeing his weary face, Rocco's features softened with gentle concern.
That calm voice pushed Ragar forward.
Dropping to his knees, Ragar gazed at his small master, who patiently waited in silence, and pleaded.
"…I am yours, Young Master. When the time comes for this life to end, please, grant me the mercy of dying by your hand."
To utter such selfish words was unbecoming of a slave.
It was unthinkable for a lowly Beastmen like Ragar to ask for the honor of being killed directly by Rocco.
Beastmen marked for execution were typically disposed of en masse, and burned to save time and effort.
To request a death like a human's, one given directly by a noble hand, was an outrageous demand.
Even knowing this, Ragar could not stop the words once they had left his lips.
If this overreach made Rocco angry enough to kill him now, so be it.
To Ragar, that would be a blessing.
As Ragar braced himself for the worst, he heard a bitter laugh from above.
Startled, he looked up and found his small master smiling wryly.
Tilting his head slightly, Rocco muttered, almost to himself: "Why is everyone around here so dramatic? Honestly, Ragar, you're just as bad."
The words struck Ragar like a blow.
Had he troubled Rocco?
He trembled as he processed the possibility.
Looking down at him, Rocco let out a small sigh.
"Ragar, what you're really saying is that you want to stay with me, right? That's it, isn't it?"
"…Yes, if I may be so bold."
"Argh! You don't need to be so formal about it!" Rocco huffed, puffing his cheeks in an almost comically childish manner. "I'm just asking how you feel—there's no need to act like you're scared."
Rocco reached out and gently cupped Ragar's face in both hands, his angelic smile brightening his features.
He even dared to touch a lowly Beastmen like Ragar and graced him with that radiant expression.
Ragar couldn't fathom why Rocco wanted to hear his feelings.
It was absurd.
A Beastmen slave wasn't entitled to personal thoughts.
To refuse, or even hesitate, was entirely out of the question.
His sole role was to obey without question and fulfill his duties.
That was the only right afforded to someone like him.