The Freed Slaves Are Obsessed

The dwarves’ underground bunker.

Its vast interior was spacious enough to accommodate every dwarf and then some.

While the outside world was in chaos, the bunker was almost eerily peaceful, disturbed only by faint tremors and muffled sounds.

But as the air grew colder and frost began to form on the walls, the dwarves started to realize something was very wrong.

It was in this uneasy atmosphere that Wulbram arrived.

He explained the situation outside to Urgdar, the dwarf in charge of the bunker, and the sharp-minded dwarf quickly grasped the gravity of it.

Wulbram and Urgdar stood before the gathered dwarves. Their usually kind expressions were uncharacteristically tense, further fueling the crowd’s growing anxiety.

One dwarf raised a hand to ask, "Lord Wulbram, what’s happening?"

"The dragon’s attacks are extinguishing the Heart’s flame."

"What?"

The bunker erupted into murmurs.

Though it was crafted by mortal hands, Magmar’s Heart was a spiritual cornerstone for the dwarves—akin to the World Tree for elves.

The news that the Heart’s ember was fading sent shockwaves through the crowd.

"So that’s why it’s been getting colder."

"What’s going to happen to us now?"

"The dragon will pick us off one by one, of course."

The bunker descended into chaos. Fear blanketed the dwarves, paralyzing them.

"Calm yourselves," Wulbram urged. "The fight is not over, and the ember has weakened, not gone out."

"But—"

"The reason I’ve come here," [N O V E L I G H T] Wulbram continued, "is because we need to rekindle the ember. I need your help."

Wulbram explained Torvar’s method in detail.

"Hmm..."

The dwarves listened silently, digesting the plan.

They understood the situation.

But the thought of hammering at forges while a dragon prowled overhead? The idea was absurd.

One stray sneeze from the dragon and they’d be frozen solid. For the blacksmiths, who were not warriors, it was an unbearable burden.

At their core, dwarves were cautious beings.

No one dared to step forward, each waiting for someone else to make the first move.

It was exactly what Wulbram had expected.

Determined to rally them, Wulbram raised his voice.

"I understand your fear a hundred times over. But if none of you act now, even the faint ember we have left will be extinguished."

"And once that happens, there’s no going back. This is our last chance."

Urgdar added his voice to the plea.

Even so, the dwarves remained rooted in place, their resolve stifled by the occasional sounds of battle echoing from above.

"Is all we need to do hammer the forges?"

The calm voice came from an old dwarf, scruffy and unassuming.

"That’s all."

"Doesn’t sound too hard."

Others quickly tried to dissuade him.

"Old man, if you go out there, you might die!"

The old dwarf ignored them.

In any society, there are exceptions, and even among the proud blacksmithing dwarves, there existed those deemed outliers.

This old dwarf was one of them.

Though a blacksmith by trade, his skills were pitiful. In Doomheim, a place overflowing with craftsmen, no one used the tools or weapons he forged.

Decades of aimless hammering had made him a disgrace to his kind.

"Does it matter? My hammer can finally be of use today."

But the old dwarf didn’t care. While others prepared to flee or hoard provisions, he clutched his worn hammer—a tool he had used his entire life.

Skill or no skill, he was a dwarf. And a dwarf was always a blacksmith.

The crowd fell silent.

And in the quiet, another stepped forward.

"Tch. That old man got the better of me. I’m going too."

"Smith?"

"How can I hope to become a Meister if I hide here? A true blacksmith needs to experience the battlefield firsthand. Only by standing alongside warriors can I broaden my vision and grow."

Smith was the polar opposite of the old man.

He was a young prodigy, already recognized as one of the finest craftsmen despite his age. Everyone vied to use his creations.

Yet even Smith, with all his talent, was relentlessly driven to improve himself.

The resolve of the old dwarf and Smith lit a fire in the crowd.

Getting the first to act is always the hardest part. The second to join is easier. And from the third onward, the momentum becomes unstoppable.

"I can’t just sit here while even that old codger’s stepping up!"

"Right! I heard the princess sent hearts flying at the warriors. I want one too!"

"What? They got special treatment? Those damn pointy-eared bastards!"

The bunker shook with the thunderous roar of the dwarves, drowning out the noise from outside.

The frost on the walls melted away from the heat of their passion.

Wulbram watched them with a faint smile.

"Your fire is warming even me. Good. Let’s get out there and hammer away to our hearts’ content!"

*****

The tallest building in the underground city of Doomheim.

We stood on the rooftop of the collapsed Magmar’s Heart, watching the situation unfold and waiting for the right moment. Waiting for Wulbram to convince the dwarves.

Our role was clear: hold off Skadia long enough for the blacksmiths to rekindle the ember and finish her off.

Skadia, who had attacked an entire kingdom, frozen emotions, and sealed Ashies in ice for centuries—all for the sake of possessing her.

Even now, as she endured Ashies’s attacks, she was careful not to harm her and hadn’t revoked her blessing.

Though she was our enemy, I couldn’t help but acknowledge the depth of her devotion to Ashies.

And I intended to exploit that devotion to its fullest.

A person who loves only one and only one, or someone who obsesses over such a concept, is often called a devotion freak.

And there are two ways to break a devotion freak: the harem drift or good old-fashioned NTR.

I planned to show Skadia a picture-perfect moment of sweetness with Ashies right in front of her. The higher Ashies’s affection for me, the more devastating the effect—squared.

And there was no doubt left about where Ashies’s affection stood.

"She brought this on herself. Who told her to go around kidnapping people?"

This was her karma.

Time to get to work.

I extended my hand to Ashies.

"Miss Ashies, how about a thrilling date with me?"

"...Alright."

Ashies didn’t hesitate. She nodded and took my hand.

*****

The tallest building in the underground city of Doomheim.

We stood on the rooftop of the collapsed Magmar’s Heart, watching the situation unfold and waiting for the right moment. Waiting for Wulbram to convince the dwarves.

Our role was clear: hold off Skadia long enough for the blacksmiths to rekindle the ember and finish her off.

Skadia, who had attacked an entire kingdom, frozen emotions, and sealed Ashies in ice for centuries—all for the sake of possessing her.

Even now, as she endured Ashies’s attacks, she was careful not to harm her and hadn’t revoked her blessing.

Though she was our enemy, I couldn’t help but acknowledge the depth of her devotion to Ashies.

And I intended to exploit that devotion to its fullest.

A person who loves only one and only one, or someone who obsesses over such a concept, is often called a devotion freak.

And there are two ways to break a devotion freak: the harem drift or good old-fashioned NTR.

I planned to show Skadia a picture-perfect moment of sweetness with Ashies right in front of her. The higher Ashies’s affection for me, the more devastating the effect—squared.

And there was no doubt left about where Ashies’s affection stood.

"She brought this on herself. Who told her to go around kidnapping people?"

This was her karma.

Time to get to work.

I extended my hand to Ashies.

"Miss Ashies, how about a thrilling date with me?"

"...Alright."

Ashies didn’t hesitate. She nodded and took my hand.

*****

Crash!

Skadia swung her tail in a wide arc, spinning her massive body.

The tail, as destructive as a giant iron mace, shattered the waist of a golem. The already freezing construct crumbled helplessly, reduced to nothing more than useless rubble.

Looking down at the pitiful remains, Skadia snorted derisively.

"Fools. To think you’d dare to face me with such pathetic toys."

She destroyed the last remaining golem.

While Roksar’s shield had prevented her from extinguishing the ember completely, it was a futile resistance. Skadia’s frost was rapidly consuming Doomheim.

The ember would die out soon.

And so would the dwarves’ fragile hope.

At that moment, Ashies appeared before Skadia.

"Ah, Princess. Have you finally decided to come with—?"

Ashies was riding a massive bird made of ice. But she wasn’t alone. From behind her, Karami peeked out with a cheerful wave.

"Greetings."

"And who the hell are you?! What are you doing with my princess?!"

"Me?" Karami gestured dramatically before pulling Ashies into a tight embrace. Wrapping his arms around her, he rested his chin on her shoulder and even rubbed his cheek against hers for good measure.

His cheek felt so cold it might freeze, but that hardly mattered.

After all, when else would he get a chance to mock a dragon?

"Absolutely worth it," he thought with a sly grin.

"I’m someone who shares a special connection with Miss Ashies," he declared.

Skadia, captivated by beauty, was utterly devoted to Ashies.

And beauty, by nature, becomes even more precious the harder it is to attain.

This is what’s known as the "aesthetic of rarity."

"You filthy worm! How dare a lowly creature lay claim to my princess!"

Now that Ashies belonged to Karami, she seemed even more radiant than before in Skadia’s eyes. Her fury boiled over, burning hot enough to make her seem more fire dragon than frost dragon.

For Skadia, who had spent centuries as a devoted fanatic, Karami’s strategy was the ultimate weapon—Tag: Netorare.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Skadia charged straight at them.

"Time to run."

"Okay."

Ashies stroked the head of her ice bird, which flapped its wings and shot forward at high speed.

The aerial chase began.

Skadia unleashed her fury, raining down an unending barrage of icicles as sharp as spears.

"Karami, hold on tight."

"Yes, ma’am!"

Karami wrapped his arms around Ashies’s slender waist.

"Oh."

The sensation was...

If Mirabelle was like a soft jelly cushion and Lyn was a fluffy fur pillow, Ashies was a refreshing cool cushion. He briefly wondered if he should get all three and rotate them throughout the week.

While Karami indulged in idle musings, Ashies cast her magic.

She retaliated in kind, creating her own icicles that rose from below and collided with Skadia’s, shattering them midair.

Skadia beat her wings furiously.

CRRRAAAACK!

The air rapidly froze, forming a razor-sharp wave of ice surging toward them.

Ashies conjured a sword, glowing with the same icy hue as her eyes. She swung it horizontally, unleashing a slash of azure light that severed the wave in its tracks.

"Why do you resist me, Princess?! I gave you beauty and power!"

"I don’t need them."

"You are the human I fell for! But if you remain like this, you’ll grow old like any other human—an old hag, a wrinkled crone! Why can’t you understand my feelings?!"

Her voice was filled with desperate longing.

It dripped with raw, unfiltered emotion.

For Skadia, the mighty frost dragon, to plead so earnestly with a mere human.

Karami couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

"How ridiculous. You sealed away Miss Ashies’s emotions, and now you’re trying to appeal to her with your own?"

"And who are you to interfere in the bond between me and Ashies?!"

"Oh, explaining would be a waste of breath. But let me ask, why don’t you stop pestering other people’s women? Stick to being a dragon."

"Other people’s women?! Princess! Say something to this—!"

Ashies placed her hand over Karami’s, which was wrapped around her waist.

"I... belong to Karami."

Because she was his slave, her words carried that meaning.

But through Skadia’s filter, they sounded entirely different.

"I’ll kill you, you bastard!"

Skadia roared, her cherished princess stolen right before her eyes.

With a guttural bellow, she unleashed a stream of vulgar curses that had nothing of a dragon’s majesty, sending out shockwaves of anger.

Even her draconic roar, Dragon’s Roar, failed to faze Karami. His hair ruffled slightly, but he didn’t pass out.

As someone blessed by the World Tree, Karami was immune to most mental attacks. The energy of the forest kept his mind clear.

But there was another issue.

The ice age descending upon Doomheim.

This was Skadia’s Absolute Zero Domain.

Only Ashies, with her blessing, could withstand it. The World Tree’s blessing shielded against mental attacks but provided no defense against environmental effects.

Ashies quickly erected a protective barrier around them. She glanced at Karami, who was trembling violently.

"Are you okay?"

"Ugh... Honestly? No, not really."

Karami’s teeth chattered audibly.

He couldn’t even lie and say he was fine. Without Ashies’s shield, he’d already be a frozen corpse.

"Are those damn dwarves still not ready?" he thought bitterly.

No matter how resistant Ashies was to cold, it was insanity to fight Skadia head-on. They needed to reignite the ember as soon as possible.

At that moment—

"RAAAAAHHH!"

Far below, from the surface of the underground city, the bunker doors burst open.

A fierce battle cry erupted from within.

The counterattack had begun.

It was time for eternal winter to give way to spring.