The Freed Slaves Are Obsessed

The traits of the races in Tao'sl are rooted in their origins.

Elves living in the forests are known for their long ears and striking appearances. They excel in using bows and commanding spirits, harboring a superiority complex that leads them to look down on other races.

Dwarves living underground are short and broad, enjoy drinking, are boisterous by nature, and are born with a craftsman's touch.

Elves and dwarves, natural opposites, naturally despise each other.

Thus, when Karami, among the dwarves, uttered the phrase, "Elves would laugh if they saw this," it was akin to saying, "Please beat me with a hammer and turn me into a cutlet."

"What did you just say, you runt? What do you mean by that?!"

The dwarves leapt up as if propelled by springs, and Hargran glared at Karami, shouting.

"The scrawny wretch Torbar brought in! We refrained from driving you out to show the might of dwarves, but this isn’t a place where someone like you can run your mouth!"

Karami's lips curled into a faint smirk.

"The great Vargan, the ancestor of dwarves who constructed Magmar's Heart and founded the Ironblood Assembly, said, 'All participants of the Ironblood Assembly are equals.' Didn't he?"

"...!"

"Even though I’m a human, I am an official observer at this meeting, which grants me the right to speak. Are you saying that silencing me goes against Vargan's will?"

"You rotten little wretch! How dare a mere human invoke the name of the great Vargan in front of me, Hargran?! Fine, I needed a snack anyway—crushing your head and roasting it should do nicely!"

As Hargran reached for his massive hammer and began to rise, Ulbram intervened.

"Sit down, Hargran."

"But, Ulbram!"

"Do you intend to spill blood in the Hall of Sacred Flame? If so, I won’t just stand by and watch. Neither will the rest of the dwarves here."

"..."

Hargran surveyed the room. The very dwarves who had supported him moments ago now avoided his gaze as if nothing had happened.

Hargran, staunchly traditional, had no choice but to step back.

"You scrawny brat!"

He settled for spewing curses.

As if quelling molten steel in a furnace, Ulbram stroked his chin and smiled weightily.

"Well then, you..."

"Karami. I’m a slave trader."

"Ah, Karami. Did you just say we’ve been shortsighted?"

"Yes, you’re only looking at the trees in front of you, unable to see the forest. Honestly, it’s frustrating beyond words."

Even as Karami's words provoked, Ulbram chuckled warmly, as if unbothered.

"To compare dwarves with elves in the holy sanctuary of dwarves... You’re not a man in his right mind."

"As a merchant, it’s only natural to live with a screw or two loose."

"That’s fair enough."

Karami's audaciousness, in the face of what could easily lead to his demise, intrigued Ulbram. Though lacking in physical stature, his courage rivaled that of any dwarf.

"Very well. You may speak. But remember this—dwarves admire confidence, not rudeness. If your words fail to move us, you’ll bear the consequences of your insolence."

"Understood."

"Good. Then speak."

This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity—to align with Torbar while securing the dwarves' support.

Missing this chance was not an option.

"Why are you limiting railways to just transporting ore and people? That’s something you can already do without railways."

"Then what else do you propose?"

It was time for the knockout blow. Karami delivered his decisive idea.

"Alcohol."

"Alcohol...?"

"With a railway, you can transport large quantities of alcohol to work sites, can’t you?"

His single statement enveloped the assembly in silence. The dwarves’ large eyes widened beneath their thick beards, as if confronting a dragon.

After what felt like an eternity, one dwarf, his beard trembling, broke the silence.

"You... you genius, you!"

"Alcohol... transported in bulk?"

"Exactly."

Smiling kindly, like a salesman pitching products to elders in a rural village, Karami began his explanation.

"Transporting alcohol to distant worksites is no easy feat. It’s heavy, so you can’t carry as much as you’d like. Plus, liquids have a mind of their own, sloshing around and throwing off your balance as you traverse rugged underground terrain."

"True."

"And that’s not all! No race burns with as much passion as dwarves. By the time a dwarf, brimming with furnace-like heat, arrives at their destination... oh no. The once-cold alcohol has turned lukewarm. After all that effort, the beer is warm—how tragic is that?"

"Ugh... just thinking about it brings tears to my eyes."

"Alcohol should be enjoyed cold... A lamentable affair indeed."

As Karami’s vivid words stirred their emotions, the dwarves began to resonate with his vision. Feeling the groundwork had been laid, Karami stood and strode across the Hall of Sacred Flame, his every movement followed by the dwarves’ eyes.

"But if we install railways? Alcohol can be transported in bulk, shielded from body heat, and kept cold thanks to the speed of delivery."

"Ooooh...!"

"Imagine this: after grueling labor, drenched in sweat, you pour a frosty ale down your throat. The coolness spreads through your body like a soothing wave..."

Karami mimed lifting an invisible mug and drinking, his Adam’s apple bobbing convincingly, as though he were actually downing a beer.

The dwarves gulped audibly at the realistic portrayal.

When Karami finished his pantomime and set down the imaginary mug, he exclaimed, "Ahhh~!"

"Ahhh~!"

In perfect unison, the dwarves let out their own cries of satisfaction, wiping their mouths with their sleeves as if they’d actually been drinking.

"How does that sound? Just imagining it is perfect, isn’t it?"

"Amazing! Simply divine!"

"What do we need to make this a reality?"

"Railways!"

"Correct!"

The dwarves rallied behind Karami, unable to suppress their agreement.

Karami couldn’t hide his grin. Everything was going according to plan.

The Ironblood Assembly was open to anyone acknowledged as a dwarf. However, Karami had observed that most attendees were middle-aged or older.

Young dwarves were busy with work and recreation, while older dwarves, whose vigor had waned, used the assembly as a way to pass time.

This dynamic was no different than human societies, where voter turnout among older generations consistently outpaced that of younger demographics.

Political decisions leaned toward the interests of the elderly, as the majority inevitably overpowered minority opinions.

If young dwarves wanted to make life a bit easier, the elders would cling to tradition, wielding unverifiable tales of the past as irrefutable truths.

Even if some of those tales were true, they were often useless in the present age.

Karami had flipped the narrative. He’d played the ultimate card: alcohol, the one thing dwarves adored above all else.

There was no way they’d refuse.

In no time, the assembly was abuzz with dwarves convincing one another.

"Why didn’t we think of using railways for alcohol? We only considered ore and people!"

"Shameful. To think a human came up with something even dwarves didn’t! He was right—we saw the trees but not the forest."

"What a disgrace! This foolishness puts us on par with, or even below, the elves!"

Though they berated themselves, their habitual disdain for elves remained intact.

The balance of the scale, which had heavily opposed railways, tipped completely in favor of their construction.

"Let’s build those railways!"

"Absolutely! Drinking lukewarm ale after work is torture for a dwarf!"

Karami turned his gaze to Hargran, who, caught up in the speech, swallowed nervously and flinched when their eyes met.

"If the railways are used solely for transporting alcohol, it won’t disrupt tradition, will it?"

"Th-that’s..."

"Besides, dwarves and alcohol have been inseparable since ancient times. After all, dwarves consider cooling down with ale after work to be life’s greatest joy. Even here at the Ironblood Assembly, drinking isn’t uncommon, is it?"

Karami gestured toward Hargran’s empty ale barrel.

Indeed, dwarves and alcohol were inseparable.

Violence and silencing others were forbidden at the Ironblood Assembly, but drinking was not. From common dwarves to leaders like Hargran, everyone partook.

"As a Meister governing Doomheim, shouldn’t you ensure a suitable reward for dwarves who complete their rituals?"

Though the railways would initially carry only alcohol, Karami knew it wouldn’t stop there. The allure of convenience was irresistible. Once the railways were operational, alcohol transport would inevitably lead to transporting people and goods.

Ulbram chuckled, shaking his head.

"This... this was a masterstroke."

"Ulbram, we can’t allow this!"

"Give it up, Hargran. The Ironblood Assembly isn’t about the whims of a few leaders—it represents the will of the majority. Look around you; can’t you see what everyone wants?"

"But...!"

"If you don’t like it, you’re welcome to try convincing them otherwise. Even that human youth, whom you dismissed as scrawny, managed to do it. Surely you can too, can’t you?"

Hargran clenched his jaw, his expression akin to swallowing a bitter pill.

In frustration, he reached for his barrel of ale, only to find it dry. Growling, he tossed it aside.

Ulbram signaled Urgdar with a nod, who responded in kind.

"Torbar’s proposal to install railways has been approved by majority vote."

Bang!

The hammer struck, and its sound echoed through the assembly hall.

Torbar stared at Karami, unable to believe what had just happened.

Karami shrugged and mouthed silently, "Still not going to lend me the flame?"