The Freed Slaves Are Obsessed

The icy ground crumbled beneath them.

The dwarves, who had been standing firm, began to fall like scattered popcorn—along with the glowing blue gemstones embedded in Doomheim’s ceiling.

What awaited them below were the square-shaped homes they had built and lived in their entire lives.

But there was no sense of familiarity.

The dwarves had never looked down from above before.

They feared heights.

They had never climbed up.

And so, they had never fallen.

All that remained now was pure terror.

“Aaaahhhh!”

“We’re falling!”

“Eek!”

Screams echoed through the underground. Many dwarves had already fainted.

At this rate, Doomheim would soon become the site of a gruesome “tomato party.”

Ashies’s head snapped around, her twin blue eyes scanning the scene rapidly.

The tiara atop her head began to glow with a pale, icy light.

Whoosh.

A blue mist spread outward from Ashies, rapidly enveloping Doomheim.

Once the mist had blanketed the area, Ashies swept her right hand through the air.

The mist solidified, forming enormous hands of ice.

The ice was softened to minimize impact.

The massive hands reached out and caught the falling dwarves.

Hundreds of dwarves were plummeting, and Ashies had to command just as many hands to catch them all.

Such large-scale, simultaneous mana manipulation was a feat even for an archmage. It was reckless enough to overload her brain.

Yet Ashies didn’t make a single mistake. She controlled the hands perfectly. The elemental ice resonated with her will, responding as if they were extensions of her own body.

One by one, Ashies gently set the dwarves down safely.

After confirming they were unharmed, Ashies lifted her head.

The gaping hole in the ceiling loomed above.

With the dwarves who had been holding the chains gone, Skadia soared freely through the air.

Ashies had never expected the chains to restrain Skadia for long. Their plan had always been to exhaust the dragon.

Yet Skadia still looked as powerful as ever, showing no signs of fatigue.

Descending slowly, Skadia entered Doomheim and landed before Ashies.

“Princess, did you truly think you could escape my grasp? And to think you would side with cowards—it’s a cruel twist of fate.”

“...”

“I’ll give you one last chance, Princess. I have no desire to harm you. Return to me now.”

Skadia’s deep, icy voice echoed through the cavern.

But Ashies remained resolute.

“No.”

Skadia let out a cold, freezing sigh.

“If that is your answer, then I have no choice. I’ll personally destroy everything that dares to admire your beauty.”

Skadia began to cast another attack to destroy Doomheim.

But before she could complete it—

A wave of weapons came spiraling toward her in formation.

Even as she batted them away with her wings and swatted them aside with her tail, they returned again and again, sticking to her like swarms of bees.

“What are these infernal pests?!”

The weapons then regrouped and spiraled back toward their source—Wulbram.

The reclaimed weapons hovered around Wulbram in a spiral formation.

“Wul...lari?”

“It’s Wulbram, Princess.”

The weapons floating around Wulbram were forged by the dwarves.

Dwarven smiths poured their souls into the weapons they created, and Wulbram’s ability allowed him to control these soul-bound weapons freely.

Doomheim, filled with countless weapons, was his domain—the battlefield where he reigned supreme.

Boom!

Another massive tremor shook the ground.

Two enormous dwarven statues, installed near Magmar’s Heart, began to move.

But they weren’t mere decorations—they were combat golems.

Doomheim’s secret weapons.

Inside the golems, the legendary smith Hargran and his apprentice operated them directly. Behind them followed smaller, humanoid-sized golems.

“We’ll assist you, Princess.”

“Just focus on planning what to make with dragon scales later!”

Hargran, who had been saved by Ashies’s magic, rejoined the fight.

Ashies’s gaze swept over the dwarves now standing by her side.

She tightened her grip on her sword.

And then, she charged straight at the dragon.

Boom! Boom!

The sounds of battle echoed from outside.

The vibrations of the fierce combat resonated through the underground bunker.

People huddled together, and young dwarves clung tightly to their parents’ hands to ease their fears.

Only one person seemed completely at ease—Karami, of course. Rather than being scared, he found it disappointing to be stuck down here.

‘Damn it, I should’ve seen the Gundams moving in person.’

Not all moving weapons were Gundams. Anyone overhearing him might have scoffed, but to Karami, they were all the same.

As much as he wanted to go out and watch, large-scale battles like this were dangerous. He pressed his ear against the wall, trying to grasp the situation through sound alone.

“Oh. That heavy gust... sounds like the golems are swinging Skadia’s tail around.”

Ferca let out an exasperated sigh, clearly unimpressed by his lack of concern.

“The fate of the kingdom is hanging by a thread, and you’re treating this like a show? If we lose, Karami, you’re dead too.”

“Well, yeah, probably.”

“Do you actually think we’ll win?”

“Hard to say. It won’t be easy, considering who we’re up against. We might lose.”

Ferca frowned at his nonchalant response.

“You’re the one who put us in this situation! Why are you acting like it’s not your problem?”

“What do you mean, I put you in this situation? I gave a little push, sure, but you’re the ones who chose to fight. I clearly remember you all voting on it.”

“Are you seriously trying to avoid responsibility now?”

“I’m just stating the facts.”

Karami’s flippant grin grated on Ferca’s nerves, and she gave up arguing, instead turning her uneasy gaze to the ceiling.

“Worried about your father?”

“...Worried? No. I told him to come here, but he insisted on staying behind. It’s his own fault.”

“You sure say harsh things without batting an eye. If he heard you, he’d be heartbroken.”

“Yeah, right.”

Ferca scoffed, dismissing the idea.

Karami paused, considering her reaction.

‘Honestly, I don’t need to do this.’

Ferca wasn’t a slave, so there was no real reason to “free” her completely. She’d already served her purpose by helping Ashies.

She was just another NPC—a background character. Whatever happened to her afterward wasn’t Karami’s concern.

‘But still, I owe her a little.’

So, he decided to throw her a bone.

“Now that I think about it, something doesn’t add up.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your father always leaves early in the morning and only returns late at night, right?”

“Yeah, because he has to guard Magmar’s Heart. What’s your point?”

Karami suppressed a smirk and feigned innocence.

“When we first arrived in Doomheim, it was midday, wasn’t it? So why was he at home?”

“Huh? That’s...”

Back then, Ferca had been too flustered by Karami dressing her in a ridiculous outfit to think straight.

But now that she thought about it, it was strange.

Even when her mother was sick, Torvar had never skipped work. Yet, on that particular day, he had been home.

Coincidence?

Or...

“Maybe he had a reason to be there.”

Karami’s voice slithered into the cracks forming in Ferca’s thoughts.

“What kind of reason?”

“Well, let’s say... he was waiting for his missing daughter to return. Wouldn’t it be bad if you [N O V E L I G H T] came home and no one was there?”

“That’s... ridiculous. It’s just a coincidence.”

Ferca faltered, her voice trembling.

Karami’s smile sharpened.

“No need to overthink it. We can just ask. Hey, you there.”

He called over a nearby dwarf, someone Ferca recognized as a neighbor. Karami clearly intended to get answers from him.

“What is it?”

“I just wanted to ask—do you remember when Ferca went missing?”

“Of course I do. I thought the troublemaker had run off again. Never imagined she’d been taken as a slave.”

“And what was Torvar doing at the time?”

Ferca shot a nervous glance at the neighbor, but the dwarf answered without hesitation.

“Torvar? After Ferca disappeared, he stopped going to work. Just stayed at the forge all day, hammering away.”

“Do you know why?”

“Are you stupid? Parents wait for their children. That’s not something you need to ask.”

“Got it. Thanks.”

Karami returned to Ferca, who had overheard everything. Her face was a mix of shock and confusion.

“So... he’s just a fool waiting for his daughter.”

“...”

“Wow. Torvar must really care about you. He even ignored his duties as the Keeper of Magmar’s Heart to stay home. Don’t you think so?”

Ferca couldn’t respond.

The idea that Torvar had prioritized her over his sacred duty hit her like a hammer.

She couldn’t believe it.

Could it really be true?

Was she overthinking it?

As she struggled to process her thoughts, a deafening rumble shook the bunker.

Chunks of stone fell from the ceiling, and Ferca flinched, looking up.

“The fight’s getting worse. At this rate, the forge might collapse.”

“...”

“Sigh... If I’d known this would happen, I would’ve treated your father a little better. At least we’re safe here, but he...”

Snap!

Ferca shoved past the others and ran out.

“Hey! Ferca! You can’t go out there!”

“Move!”

Shoving aside the warriors trying to stop her, Ferca stormed out of the bunker.

The panicked dwarves turned to Karami.

“Can you bring her back?”

Karami nodded and followed after her—but his pace was slow, almost leisurely.

A faint curve lifted the corners of his mouth.

‘See? If she’d just talked things through earlier, this wouldn’t have happened.’

He’d given her plenty of hints.

‘Stubborn father and daughter making everything harder for themselves.’

Ferca’s path to freedom required two things:

Torvar’s death.

And inheriting the will of fire.

‘Might as well enjoy the show.’

Everything was set.

All that was left was to sit back and watch.