"What a pleasant and beautiful place this is. The food, the bed—even the floor—everything feels so perfect. The bed is as soft as clouds, the floor feels like it's made of mist, and the cool air around me is so calming. And I'm completely alone here... This place is so peaceful and stress-free."
These were the thoughts of the most beautiful elf, whispered softly to herself. She now found herself in a place that could only be described as heaven. Her world had changed entirely. The stark, sterile white chamber she once lived in was gone.
In its place, she was being served platters of ripe fruits, exquisite dishes, and refreshing drinks—all of it luxurious beyond imagination.
Tiny angels, in the form of adorable winged babies, hovered around her. Some brought her fruits, others gently massaged her shoulders, and a few poured heavenly drinks into crystal glasses just for her.
But… she was a slave.
And this raised a question: How could a mere slave be treated with such royal hospitality?
A little while ago,
A new policy had been introduced in the realm of the gods. But this one was... different.
The same beautiful angel—renowned as the most divine among them—stood before the assembled slaves and addressed them in a commanding tone:
"All slaves, listen carefully. As you already know, each cage now holds only one slave. But a new rule is being introduced today. From now on, the quality of your food, your living space, and your privileges will depend on one thing—your beauty.
The more beautiful you are, the better your treatment will be. The more unattractive, the worse your conditions will get."
Gasps and murmurs filled the chamber. Confusion and fear spread like wildfire.
But… what exactly determined beauty? Mere looks couldn't define it entirely. It had to be more than that.
At that moment, a male slave stepped forward—a member of a rare and strange race known as the Mutators.
They looked human and behaved like humans, but had unique supernatural mutations.
This one, in particular, had four legs, a torn red shirt and pants, light blue hair angled perfectly backward and shoulder-length. His appearance was average, with soft blue eyes, matching brows and lashes.
In a respectful tone, he asked,
"Uh... Goddess, may I ask a question?"
The angel scoffed with a smirk,
"'Goddess'... Hmph. Ask."
"On what basis will beauty be judged?"
She tilted her head and replied coldly,
"Your looks and body structure."
That answer hit like a curse.
Not everyone was born with perfect features or sculpted bodies. The majority were simply average. And for them, this meant misery.
Some slaves slumped in despair, knowing they'd receive only the bare minimum. Their appearance alone had determined their fate.
But then, the angel added,
"Don't worry, I won't be the one judging you. That task belongs to the Ten Pillars."
Her words had barely faded when the grand white gate of the chamber opened, revealing ten angelic figures.
Their faces were hidden behind plain black clothes, their bodies adorned in flowing divine robes. Each had flawless, fair skin, a curvaceous figure with D-cup breasts, elegant hips, and a perfectly balanced frame.
Their long blonde hair cascaded freely down their backs, glowing softly. Their heels shimmered with divine light, clicking gently as they walked—a sound so hypnotic that a few male slaves visibly... reacted.
Each of the Ten Pillars held a wand—white, with a glowing lime-green orb at its center, swirling with radiant energy.
As they entered, the other angels opened all cages and handcuffed the slaves.
One of the Ten, the one in front, stepped forward and commanded,
"All slaves. Form ten lines. Now."
Everyone complied. The most beautiful elf found herself in the fourth line from the right, 67th in position.
Each Pillar stepped through their line slowly, gracefully touching each slave's face—reading the contours, feeling the structure—and as soon as they finished, the slave would vanish into thin air.
But where did they go?
That depended on the judgment.
If a slave's appearance and physique were impressive, they were transported to a peaceful, luxurious realm.
But if judged lacking… they were sent somewhere painful, stressful, a torment made to match their "unworthiness."
Eventually, it was the elf's turn.
The Pillar gently placed a hand on her face, paused, then she too vanished.
She opened her eyes.
No more handcuffs.
All she could see, as far as her eyes reached, was an ocean of soft clouds. Behind her was a bed made of clouds, and she realized she was sitting on an incredibly soft sofa, also made of clouds.
Around her fluttered more of the tiny winged angels, bringing her fruits, foods, and drinks crafted by divine hands.
Without question, this was heaven.
But why?
Because her body was exceptional. And she was beautiful.