The Weight of the Shadow

Unlike the small fraction of magical power that mages typically channel or cast through their limbs and external media, the entirety of the magical energy concealed within a living body represents the accumulated sum of a person's life experiences, stored directly within the soul itself.

"Ahhh...♡ Fuuh...♡ Haaah...♡"

For that fundamental reason, to destroy or devour that energy is to directly threaten and dissolve the very identity of the self.

"Haaah...♡ Ah...♡"

Because of this, when their magical energy was completely destroyed and consumed by the mutated synthetic slime, the drained bodies of the elves were left inert and unmoving, reduced to simple hollow shells turned into living corpses.

"Uhhh...♡ Aaaaaah~!"

It was only through those meticulous and ruthless experiments that the scholars and engineers of Ironholm made a monumental discovery within the dried slime remains, laying the definitive foundation for their overwhelming military power.

"Hurry up the pace, you elven bitch!"

The small kingdom of Ironholm discovered that the dried remains of the slimes that had devoured magical energy—the very essence of their captives' souls—retained an energy density inside that was overwhelmingly superior to any other common power source.

"Excrete faster, or I'm gonna beat that fat ass of yours to a pulp!"

Thanks to this, upon being processed, those dried corpses served not only as usable power sources for the kingdom's general consumption, but also as an infinitely reactive fuel to feed their destructive weapons of war.

(PLAS!)

As a result, in that concentration camp, a guard who was fed up with waiting slapped his open palm against the exposed, fleshy, and well-developed buttocks of the captive elf hanging before his eyes.

(Sppplatt... pffffffft...!)

Directly due to this uninterrupted production, the kingdom of Ironholm managed to consolidate itself as one of the most vital strategic bases for the invading Demon King's army.

"Fuuu-fiiiu! Look at how much this novice just dropped!"

However, to satisfy the overwhelming demand for magical fuel, the nation initially faced a severe logistical dilemma.

At first, and for supposedly "humanitarian reasons," the authorities resorted to women sentenced to death in local prisons...

"Elves are definitely in a whole different league..."

Unfortunately, the supply on death row was ridiculously scarce.

"Ahhh...♡ Ahhh...♡"

After all, no matter how immense the density of extracted energy was, such a limited and unstable harvest was impractical for sustaining a large-scale war machine.

"This bitch was stuffed to the brim with pure magic!"

Staring at the excreted volume, the guards exclaimed with satisfaction as the thick mass of slime freshly defecated by the newly arrived elf gushed forth.

"When you think about it, elves are only good for their bodies and their magic power."

Even though the kingdom of Ironholm had betrayed the entire world to pledge allegiance to the Demon King, its inhabitants stubbornly clung to a twisted line of morality, flatly refusing to use women of their own species. Guided by a false sense of solidarity or racial superiority, they considered it taboo to sacrifice human females.

Consequently, although in theory the personalities and memories of human women would have served perfectly well as sustenance for the slime, the civilian population and the military command refused to cross that line.

In an unexpected turn, the demons surprisingly accepted that condition without protest, simply because human magical energy was far too unstable and variable compared to the pure mística flowing through long-lived races like the elves.

"Please forgive me...♡! Please forgive me...♡!"

That moral inconvenience was resolved with extreme ease as soon as the Demon King issued a categorical decree for his new vassals: «Elves are nothing more than livestock with human form.»

"Ohhh...♡! Ohhh...♡!"

From that moment on, years passed, and the mindset of every inhabitant in Ironholm underwent an irreversible metamorphosis.

The entire population came to view the elven race as nothing more than draft animals and consumable resources, transforming their nation into one of the massive networks of specialized "farms" where the Demon King's army deposited every elf captured during their bloody invasions.

"S-Stop it... please... s-stop...♡"

Among all the captives thrown into the facility during the recent border raids, with a thread of drool trickling down her chin and her gaze completely lost in the haze of forced ecstasy, was her...

"Ohhh...♡ Mmmhhh...♡"

The young elf whose name was Elizaes.

"Soft slime... feels so good...♡"

Now forced to watch her own soul and personality be pitilessly dissolved and drained, Elizaes was no ordinary inhabitant. In the elven forest, she belonged to a prestigious warrior elite, feared on the front lines for being considered one of the most skilled magic wielders with the highest mana reserves among her people.

In times past, the elves lived in remote and isolated forests, maintaining almost no interaction with humanity.

Precisely because of that, they never imagined that humans would break into their lands to invade their homes and treat them as a mere resource to be harvested.

For that reason, when the troops of Ironholm advanced across their borders, the elven people were thrown into total chaos. Even though several fighters, including Elizaes herself, put up a fierce resistance on the front line, the overwhelming military superiority backed by the demon forces ended up crushing them, capturing them one by one.

"Ah...♡ l-livestock...♡ more...♡"

"Huuu...♡ aaahh...♡ nnngh...♡"

And among the captured elves, suspended at Elizaes's sides, lay other elves of similar origin, victims of the very same slime injections.

Both experienced elves belonged to the same native forest and were part of the patrols that had mysteriously disappeared during the first invasion wave, only to be reduced now to mouthing broken pleas and unintelligible moans after having lost most of their sanity and intellect.

"M-More...♡ give me...♡ aaah...♡"

"P-Pretty light...♡ Aheh...♡!"

"W-Who... who am I...♡? Aaaah...♡"

A whole day passed from the moment of Elizaes's capture and the start of the brutal extraction process.

As a result, every trace of the brilliant intellect, warrior pride, and sharp magical capability that once defined her was completely erased from her face and her words, just as had happened with her former companions.

(Glshshsh...)

The slime that had been spurting from her entrails gradually lost its initial momentum; the dense flow of purple substance slowed down to a fine, steady trickle, like water dripping from an old tap that wouldn't shut off properly...

"...♡"

When the final drops were on the verge of running out, the last mass of slime was coughed up in a large, shapeless blob.

(...Fshshsh... Chshshsh...)

In that exact instant, Elizaes's head fell lifeless onto her chest, devoid of any remaining spark of vitality.

"....."

"...."

"..."

Thus, the trio of elves who had been completely drained of their souls, memories, and magic reserves—all utterly eradicated—were unhooked from their metallic restraints and carefully carried outside by the workers.

"Haah...♡ haah...♡"

"Ah...♡ fuuh...♡"

"Haaah...♡"

Gasping for air under the lingering remnants of an involuntary, persistent pleasure, the three elves fixed their empty gazes on the gray sky visible through the factory's upper vents.

"Look at that... It's a shame their magic runs out so fast, but even so, they don't lose those doll-like faces of theirs."

Contrary to expectation, despite having lost the ability to speak and having their minds erased, they were not dead.

"A shame? Please, we're just getting started with them."

The longevity inherent to their species allowed them to survive even when reduced to the state of living dolls; as long as they were provided with basic nourishment, they would continue breathing far longer than any human.

"All elves are naturally beautiful. Even if they're left as hollow shells, they're still absurdly useful. The high command uses them as seedbeds to breed new species with front-line monsters, or we just leave them in the barracks for a couple of months and feed them well. As soon as they recover a bit of magic energy, we hang them back up on the chains and drain them all over again."

Between laughs and casual chatter, the facility's workers lifted the empty shells of the captives to remove them from the "Advanced Magic Power Production Line."

"You're right... After all, there's absolutely nothing to waste on an elf."

After loading the elves onto the transport mounts, the men walked slowly toward the "Break Room," displaying relaxed, satisfied expressions for having wrapped up their workday...

"..."

However, none of them noticed the heavy, suffocating silence beginning to settle over the facility.

(Clack... clack... Clack...)

...High up in the shadows of the overhead steel girders, a pair of electric blue eyes stared down at them in absolute stillness.