The Freed Slaves Are Obsessed

After the meeting, only a few individuals remained in the hall.

Ulbram.

Torbar.

Urgdar.

And myself.

It seemed my performance during the assembly left a favorable impression, as Ulbram extended his hand for a handshake.

"Pleasure to meet you. I’m Ulbram Khan."

"Allow me to reintroduce myself. I’m Karami."

I clasped his hand. This old man’s grip was no joke.

His hands, rough and solid like any blacksmith’s, were extraordinarily thick—at least twice the size of mine.

"You surprised me earlier. It’s no small feat to voice your stance among dwarves. Honestly, when you acted like you were drinking that ale, I nearly fell for it myself."

"Next time, I’ll strive to make sure you do."

"Ha ha ha! You’re a bold young man, I’ll give you that. Torbar certainly brought in an interesting one."

Ulbram’s laughter was loud and hearty.

"So, you brought back Torbar’s long-lost daughter? That wild one? That couldn’t have been an easy task."

"It just kind of happened."

"Don’t play coy. I’ve already confirmed you’re not the kind of man to leave things to chance."

Crunch.

Suddenly, Ulbram’s grip tightened.

My feeble hand felt like it was being crushed.

The once jovial atmosphere shifted as a weighty seriousness radiated from Ulbram.

"Slave trader, what is it you seek in Doomheim?"

Stern, grave, and intensely serious, his demeanor was intimidating. Despite his short stature, the clarity and force in his gaze rivaled that of any young man.

It was clear bluffing wouldn’t work here.

If I tried to deflect or dodge the question, my hand would likely end up as flat as a pancake under a hydraulic press. I had to protect my right-hand companion.

"I want to borrow the flame from Magmar’s Heart."

"And what do you intend to use it for?"

"There’s a slave I must meet. I’ll use it for her."

"..."

It’s not wrong to save someone in need, is it? In fact, I took pride in doing the right thing, so I met Ulbram’s gaze head-on.

"Should I call that romantic... or madness?"

"Please, call it pure devotion."

"You certainly have a way with words."

Reluctantly, Ulbram released my hand. I massaged it as soon as I was free—his grip had left bright red marks.

"It’s true that going through Torbar is the surest way to obtain the flame since he’s the overseer of Magmar’s Heart."

I knew that already.

Torbar Drak, the Arbiter of the Flame.

While solving the concerns of other Meisters could eventually lead me to Torbar, dealing with him directly was the fastest route.

"Torbar, what do you say to lending him the flame?"

"You know as well as I do, Ulbram. In all of our history, the flame has never been handed to an outsider."

"Times change. Just as you’re advocating for railways to benefit the dwarves, some traditions are bound to evolve."

"..."

Torbar lowered his gaze, staring at the ground in contemplation. After a long silence, he finally looked at me, his decision seemingly made.

"...Very well. I’ll lend you the flame."

"Wow."

"But there’s a condition. Since I still don’t trust you, you’ll need to take a companion."

A companion? That worked for me.

The destination was treacherous, and I’d been planning to hire protection anyway. If the person was chosen by a Meister, their combat abilities were guaranteed.

"I’m fine with that. If everything goes smoothly, I’ll also fulfill my previous promise to free Miss Ferka."

"Tch."

After several days of preparation, I set out with the expedition team, heading toward Isengar.

It was time to meet my fourth main slave.

"Ah-choo!"

Or at least, it would be, if I didn’t freeze to death first.

The permafrost region of Isengar.

Leaving Doomheim and heading north to the surface, its majesty revealed itself quickly.

A bleak, snow-covered expanse stretched to the horizon, where ashen clouds blotted out the sun, draining even its faint warmth. The freezing wasteland seemed to freeze hope itself.

Every breath felt like inhaling shards of ice, and each step sank knee-deep into snow, making progress a struggle. But most of all...

"Ah-choo! Damn, it’s freezing."

It was unbearably cold.

The unnatural chill made my body tremble uncontrollably, no matter how much I tried to steady myself. Despite my best preparations, this cold exceeded all expectations. Without the winter gear crafted by dwarven artisans, I’d have turned into an ice sculpture long ago.

The dwarf ahead, carrying a massive hammer on his shoulder, glanced back and yelled.

"You scrawny brat! Shivering from just this?!"

The "companion" Torbar had assigned as my escort and observer turned out to be none other than Hargran. Whether he volunteered or was selected, I couldn’t say.

From the start, he’d taken every chance to berate me.

"It’s not just this—it’s enough to freeze me to death."

"That’s because you’re a scrawny weakling!"

"Our physiologies are different!"

With their naturally high body temperatures, compact frames that retained heat well, and thick layers of subcutaneous fat, dwarves were built to endure the cold.

I, on the other hand, was simply a weak human. The difference in biology made this comparison entirely unfair.

"You’ve got a long tongue for a man! No wonder you turned to being a merchant. Go ahead and cut off your—"

"That’s enough!"

Arguing with him was pointless, so I decided to keep my words to a minimum.

A fierce wind howled, and I hunched my shoulders, trying to shield myself behind the dwarves carving a path through the snowstorm.

"Scrawny brat!"

Hargran’s deep voice broke through the howling wind.

"What exactly are we looking for?"

"A cave!"

"There are a million caves! How are we supposed to find the right one in this endless snow?!"

"There’s a cave where snow doesn’t pile up!"

"What nonsense are you spouting? In this storm, where would you find such a thing? Are your parents elves or something?"

"I don’t have parents!"

"I figured, you little wretch." 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

This damned dwarf—did he really just insult my parentage?

Before I could unleash my well-honed gamer trash talk...

"Captain! Over there!"

A dwarf pointed to a massive hill faintly visible through the swirling snow.

The hill, tinted dark blue amidst the all-encompassing white, stood out. Snow seemed to vanish as it fell, leaving the hill bare.

At its base was a dark opening—a cave.

"What the hell is that?"

"What else? A cave where snow doesn’t pile up. What, can’t you see it? Should I carry you?"

"You brat! No wonder you don’t respect your elders!"

"I don’t listen to anyone shorter than me. Now, let’s go."

Hargran shouted something back, but being so short, his voice didn’t carry to me.

We pressed through the snowstorm, descending into the cave. Inside, while free of snow, the air carried an intense chill that seemed to pierce through my skin.

The cold here defied description—it was so severe that every exhalation instantly turned into frozen particles, clattering to the ground.

"This... this is way too cold."

"This isn’t natural. It feels more like a curse than ordinary magic. What is this place?"

Hargran signaled a subordinate to cast magic, but I quickly stopped him.

"Don’t. It’ll leave a trace."

"A trace? Who’s going to find this place?"

"Someone might. We’re all in danger if you make a mistake. Let’s finish this quickly and leave."

"Hmph! You’re about to freeze to death, yet you’re so arrogant. Here, take this!"

Hargran tossed his outer cloak at me. I didn’t hesitate to wrap it around myself like a blanket.

"Wow."

The cloak was incredibly warm.

Clearly made of special materials and crafted by a Meister, its insulating properties were exceptional.

"This is much better."

"Don’t thank me, brat. If you die, it’ll cause trouble for Torbar and his daughter. That’s the only reason I’m helping. Now, move!"

"Tsundere dwarf... unexpectedly charming, huh?"

"What the hell is wrong with you? I’ve seen crazy, but you’re on another level."

We lit torches and ventured deeper into the cave.

"Are you sure there’s a slave here? Did you freeze her or something?"

"You’ll see."

I didn’t elaborate further.

The deeper we went, the more the cave transformed. From rough stone walls, we entered an area filled with glowing blue ice crystals, their beauty otherworldly.

And amidst the smaller crystals, embedded in the wall, was a massive one. Inside it, curled up and asleep, was a girl.

"Wow..."

Awestruck murmurs echoed around me.

Even without words, everyone seemed to understand.

Her beauty was breathtaking, capable of rendering anyone speechless.

White as snow, icy as winter—a princess of frozen beauty.

[Ashies Friana, the Princess Who Knows No Spring.]

She was my fourth main slave.