The Freed Slaves Are Obsessed

"Hey, you. What kind of ending is this? I read it to my daughters just like you said, and they ended up bawling their eyes out!"

Ulbram questioned me as if demanding an explanation.

He had his reasons for reacting that way.

The main conflict in Snow White revolves around the queen's jealousy of Snow White’s beauty, which drives her to exile and attempt to kill her.

The queen persistently tries to assassinate Snow White, but her efforts are repeatedly thwarted by the dwarves.

However, in the end, the queen succeeds in feeding Snow White a poisoned apple, causing her to collapse and fall into eternal sleep.

That was the content I included in the fairy tale book.

Even for those who already knew the ending, it would leave an uneasy feeling. For those unfamiliar with the story, the effect was even stronger. Innocent children, who had likely hoped for Snow White to live happily ever after, were instead faced with a tragic ending.

Their innocence had been utterly shattered.

"Elves are brave warriors, so why are dwarves portrayed as cowards?"

And yet another dwarf raised a complaint.

Although the original Snow White didn’t include elves, my version did. Specifically, I modeled them after Tinker Bell from Peter Pan—golden-haired, long-eared, and beautiful spirits of the forest.

For those unfamiliar with Tinker Bell, they would simply appear as elves. Just as the dwarves resembled their counterparts, this was entirely intentional.

In my adaptation, the dwarves—who originally devoted themselves to helping the princess—were too afraid to leave their homes, and instead, the forest elves stepped in to aid Snow White.

The reason was simple.

Nothing provokes stronger emotions than conflict, especially when the opposing side is none other than the elves.

"Is it really necessary to get so worked up? It’s just a fairy tale. Don’t overthink it."

That’s what I said, but seeing their reactions only strengthened my confidence that my plan would work.

It was time to poison Doomheim.

*****

At The Drunkard’s Barrel, the most famous tavern in Doomheim, the atmosphere was unusually somber that day.

The place, usually bustling with energy, was filled with heavy sighs from the heads of households. Even that shared misery was enough to create a sense of solidarity.

"Did you read Snow White to your daughter too?"

"You too?"

The fairy tale Snow White had recently become the talk of Doomheim.

A poor princess, driven out by her stepmother’s jealousy because of her beauty, forced to flee for her life. In the end, deceived by the stepmother disguised as a witch, she eats a poisoned apple and falls into eternal slumber.

"You wouldn’t believe how much my daughter cried and screamed when Snow White died. I told her it’s just a story, but it didn’t help."

"You know what my kids said? They asked why the elves helped Snow White while the dwarves just hid like cowards. One of them even said they wished they’d been born an elf instead!"

The pride of the dwarves, passed down since the days of the legendary blacksmith Bargran the Great, had been utterly crushed.

The children—the future of Doomheim—were drowning in defeatism.

All because of a single fairy tale.

"Who wrote this nonsense?"

"They say it’s some human freeloading at Torvar’s house."

"What?"

"And rumor has it, he’s planning to sell this book all across the continent."

"What kind of madness is that? We can’t let this happen!"

There was no way they would let a mere fairy tale tarnish the honor of the dwarves.

Abandoning their drinks, the dwarves rushed to Torvar’s home, pushing and shoving to get there first.

By the time they arrived, the place was already packed with angry dwarves.

"Get out here, you scrawny human!"

"Did you think you could mock the dwarves of Doomheim and get away with it?"

They shouted, pounding on the doors.

Peeking through the curtains, Ferca stepped away from the window, looking uneasy.

Beside her, Karami casually sipped his coffee, watching the scene unfold.

"It’s like spilling a barrel of caramel popcorn. Makes you want to scoop up a handful and enjoy."

Even after orchestrating this chaos, all he did was crack lighthearted jokes.

Ferca let out a troubled sigh.

She had read Snow White as well.

A princess whose mother died, forced out of her castle at a young age by her jealous stepmother.

Though she narrowly escaped death multiple times, in the end, she was deceived and fell into eternal slumber.

The story mirrored Ashies’ life so closely that it was impossible to ignore.

Even the illustrations—while far inferior to the real thing—bore a striking resemblance to Ashies.

Yet Karami had deliberately ended the fairy tale on a tragic note.

"How are you going to clean up this mess? The people have completely turned into a mob."

While the elves in the story tried to help, the dwarves had been portrayed as cowards who only hid.

For Ferca, who was half-human and half-dwarf, even she could understand their anger. It would have been strange if they weren’t upset.

She sighed again and glanced at Ashies.

Sitting quietly on the bed, Ashies was reading the fairy tale book.

How did it feel to see your own story end in tragedy?

Her face showed no emotion, but there was no way it didn’t feel strange.

Fairy tales were supposed to end happily, yet Karami had written this one as a tragedy.

It was only then that Ferca finally remembered.

Karami was the High Priest of the Church of the Reaper—a man who fed off chaos.

Because of his recent actions, she had momentarily forgotten what kind of person he truly was.

It wouldn’t be surprising if everything he had done so far was just preparation for his own twisted amusement.

That’s what Ferca thought.

*****

On the fourth day since Snow White appeared in the world.

The new fairy tale, Snow White, sold at a cheap price, made it an affordable gift for children.

Parents bought the book and read it to their children. But after being exposed to Karami’s version of Snow White, the children fell into depression.

The girls who saw themselves reflected in Snow White experienced a vicarious death, and the boys who had hoped for the heroic exploits of the seven dwarves were left with a sense of loss.

The adults, though not as emotionally sensitive as the children, reacted similarly. They had hoped for a story where good triumphs over evil. For people living in a world lacking cultural entertainment, the impact hit even harder.

Like the witch’s poisoned apple.

The Reaper had poisoned Doomheim with despair.

The dwarves set aside mining and drinking, gathering instead in front of Torvar’s house to stage an intense protest.

They demanded that Karami come out immediately.

Come out, apologize, and revise the story.

The only reason the protest remained peaceful was that Karami was Torvar’s guest. If it had been anyone else, the door would have already been broken down.

But even the dwarves’ patience was wearing thin. Their growing anger began to spill over toward Torvar for keeping Karami sheltered behind a locked door.

The tension was reaching its limit—ready to explode like a volcano.

“Good evening, everyone. How kind of you to visit at this late hour. I’m truly honored.”

At last, the tightly shut door opened, and Karami stepped out.

“So you finally crawled out, you elf-loving spy!”

“Haha, I admit I’m friendly with elves, but a spy? That’s a bit much.”

Despite the hostile glares and harsh words, Karami remained as composed as ever.

“What brings everyone here today? Is this some kind of festival?”

“It’s your funeral, you bastard! Did you think you’d get away unscathed after calling that garbage a fairy tale?!”

“A fairy tale?”

“Don’t play dumb! Do you think we don’t know you wrote Snow White?”

Karami tilted his head as if genuinely confused.

“Why do you call it a fairy tale?”

“What?”

“I only made slight adjustments. Snow White is based on a true story.”

“What kind of nonsense is that? Are you joking?”

Determined to protect their pride, the dwarves shouted in unison. But Karami smirked, letting out a faint laugh as if mocking them.

“I’ve been to the Great Forest. The elves fought bravely and proudly showed off their martial skills. But what about the dwarves? Didn’t you abandon your honor and choose to hide like cowards?”

“T-That’s....”

“And now you expect the fairy tale to be full of laughter and joy? Escaping reality won’t fix the truth. It’s laughable.”

That’s what Karami said, though he understood.

Fighting a dragon must have been terrifying.

But the fact that the dwarves had fled didn’t change. Karami had simply written what happened.

“It was the adults who gave up on a happy ending. So it’s only natural that the children ended up with a sad one.”

Karami shrugged, but his flippant remarks left the dwarves unable to respond.

The crowd, which had seemed ready to storm in just moments ago, now hesitated, exchanging uncertain glances.

“Actually, there’s a secret about Snow White.”

Karami’s calm voice slipped into the crowd, drawing their attention.

“The Snow White I published is only the first volume. The second volume, which contains the ending, hasn’t been released yet.”

“Is that true?”

“Yes, the first volume is just a bridge leading to the conclusion. I’m currently writing the second volume.”

In other words—

“Depending on whether you show bravery... the ending might change.”

“.......”

“You still have a chance. A chance to create a happy ending. A chance to give your children hope and dreams.”

The dwarves’ eyes wavered.

Not missing the moment, Karami continued with a persuasive tone.

“And that’s not all. I’m the Reaper’s High Priest—the whole continent knows my name. Everyone will be curious about a book I’ve written.”

“So what?”

“If you stand and fight against the dragon... yes. Even I’ll have no choice but to acknowledge that dwarves are greater than elves.”

And with that, Karami struck the final blow.

“Your courage will be recorded in the story and passed down for generations, just like the legend of Bargran.”

A heavy silence hung over the crowd.

Some dwarves fell into deep thought. Others hesitated, unsure but tempted.

Then, a dwarf with five children raised his voice.

“Come on, everyone! Do you really want to show our kids that we’re cowards? Do you want to drive out a guest of Doomheim and then hold your heads high in front of them?”

That was the spark.

“He’s right! Are we going to let elves outshine us?”

“Dragon or lizard, who cares? Let’s hunt it down and prove the might of the dwarves!”

Their voices merged into a single roar.

“We are dwarves! Born ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) from steel and forged in fire—a relentless people! Only hammers and anvils can shape our fate. Nothing will block our path! Raise your hammers! Lift your shields! We are the children of the earth, who even the gods must revere!”

Their declaration rang out, shaking the underground halls.

The dwarves had steeled themselves and declared their readiness to fight.

Karami smiled silently.

All that remained was preparation.