The Freed S*aves Became Obsessed

The preparations for the war against Skadia began in Doomheim.
Weaponsmiths forged arms suited to face a dragon, while armorsmiths crafted insulated gear to withstand Skadia’s icy chill.
Enchanters worked on magical trinkets, and others designed and installed traps.

It was a war effort befitting a nation of blacksmiths.
Watching the dwarves work harder than usual, I silently let out a breath of relief.
‘I’m glad things are ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) working out.’

[Convince the dwarves to prepare for the battle against Skadia.]
This was the main mission—one that couldn’t be avoided and shouldn’t be avoided.
Since arriving in Doomheim, I had to constantly raise the dwarves’ favorability to secure their cooperation.

There were many ways to improve favorability, but the problem was the lack of time.
In the game, simultaneous actions were possible on a single screen—raising favorability in Doomheim while treasure-hunting in Lake Fortress, for example.
But with time moving differently and having only one body in this world, when would I have time to set up a store and gather favorability?

‘I could delay heading to Lake Fortress and fighting the Orc King.’
But that would push back the final slave’s storyline too. If Darka died before I reached that point, it’d be even worse.
I needed a drastic solution.

That’s why I chose the fairy tale book.
I shattered the children’s innocence and struck at the dwarves’ pride. And the plan succeeded.
Now, while the dwarves prepared for war, it was time for me to make my own preparations. For that, I went to see Torvar.

“Elder.”
“What?”
“I was deeply disappointed by the last Ironblood meeting. I expected you to stand by us, but you remained neutral. I can’t even describe how betrayed I felt.”
Torvar had taken a neutral stance regarding Ashies’ expulsion—neither supporting nor opposing it.

Even so, he worried about the dwarves’ future more than anyone. The fact that he remained neutral instead of supporting the expulsion was a relief in itself.
“Cut the nonsense, you Reaper who’s driven the dwarves to their graves.”
“Graves? I’m certain we’ll win.”

“And someone’s going to die in the process.”
I answered with nothing but a smile.
“Did you come just to spout nonsense?”

“I need you to craft something for me.”
I pulled out a crimson gemstone that shimmered with a faint glow and handed it to Torvar.
His eyes narrowed, and he gave me the sharp gaze of a blacksmith inspecting an item.

“This isn’t just any gem. Where did you get this?”
“I rescued a kidnapped lady and received it as a family heirloom in gratitude. The head of the house even cried tears of joy as they handed it over.”
The Crimson Jewel was a reward from freeing Narsha, a side-slave character. While not mandatory for the main story, it provided a significant boost to progression.

I obtained it early since there was time before the main storyline began.
“Bullshit. You probably threatened them to give it up in exchange for their daughter. So, what do you want? Engraving?”
“I need it made into a ring. With a black base.”

“…I won’t ask what it’s for, but I’ll expect payment.”
“Of course.”
Leaving the order with Torvar, I climbed to the second floor.

The room was dark.
A snow globe on the nightstand gave off a soft glow—a gift I’d received from Santa.
It wasn’t a dynamic item, but I recalled that placing it in a shop increased comfort for slaves and customers.

Beside it, a mood lamp was lit.
And for some reason, Ashies was awake.
A near-miraculous sight.

While others busily prepared for battle in the forge, Ashies sat quietly on the bed, flipping through the fairy tale book.
Fairy tales weren’t exactly stimulating material. Reading the same thing repeatedly should’ve been boring, yet she didn’t seem to mind.

Well, it was probably her first source of entertainment.

Maybe she was enjoying it more than I expected.
‘Not bad.’
Not long ago, I’d even seen Ashies smile.

Anger and joy—emotions she rarely showed.
A smile was something that appeared only at the very end of the game, and I had never even seen her get angry before….
‘It’s definitely Christmas.’

All the effort had been worth it.
I buried the satisfaction I felt and perched on the edge of the bed.
Even with me sitting right next to her, Ashies didn’t take her eyes off the book.

“Is it that interesting?”
“…Yes.”
“Which part?”

“Here….”
Her delicate fingers, like glass ornaments, pointed to an illustration.
It depicted Snow White surrounded by cheerful elves and dwarves.

“It’s nice, isn’t it? That’s my favorite scene too.”
Ashies nodded as if she agreed.
She kept reading, turning the pages slowly, as if imprinting each scene into her memory.

Eventually, she reached the final page.
Ashies stared quietly at the picture of Snow White lying in eternal slumber.
“What happens… to Snow White?”

She was curious about the ending.
But no matter how important she was, I couldn’t spoil it.
"Exactly as it says. She eats the witch’s poisoned apple and falls into a deep sleep."

"Forever...?"
"Well, for now, yes."
As I answered, Ashies’ gaze returned to the book. Her delicate fingers brushed over the illustration in a forlorn gesture, clearly disappointed by the ending.

Seeing her like that—especially someone as emotionally reserved as Ashies—left an uncomfortable weight in the air.
“Are you curious about the ending?”
With no other choice, I decided to yield a little.

Ashies nodded.
Faster than usual.
“Alright. I’ll tell you. But this will have to stay a secret between the two of us.”

Ashies nodded again, and I began recounting the rest of Snow White.
Snow White, who ate the poisoned apple, fell into eternal sleep.
No matter how they shook her or tried to wake her, she wouldn’t open her eyes.

The dwarves, devastated by the thought of never seeing her smile again, regretted the past.
They blamed their weakness and raged at their helplessness.
The dwarves rose up.

They sought out the queen who had harmed Snow White and exacted their revenge.
But even after the queen was gone, Snow White remained asleep.
The dwarves, skilled with their hands, crafted a coffin for her and laid her to rest.

Their cries of mourning echoed through the forest.
Even the forest grieved Snow White’s death—leaves fell, flowers withered, and the streams froze over.
A never-ending winter descended upon the once-peaceful woods.

Many years later—
A prince from a neighboring kingdom happened to pass through the forest and was drawn by the cries of the fairies and dwarves.
“A prince?”

“Yes, a prince. A kind and handsome prince.”
The dwarves and fairies told the prince what had happened.
Hearing their story, the prince was heartbroken. He had, in fact, fallen in love with Snow White at first sight as a child.

Grieving over her death, the prince kissed the princess one last time to say goodbye.
And then something miraculous happened.
Snow White opened her eyes.

It turned out she had been under a spell that could only be broken by a kiss from her true love.
When Snow White awoke, the fairies sang, and the dwarves danced.
Flowers bloomed, green leaves sprouted, and spring returned to the forest.

Snow White returned to the castle with the prince, blessed by the fairies and dwarves, and they lived happily ever after.
Thud.
I closed the book.

“The end of Snow White.”
It struck me again—when I was a child, I had thought it was a nice story. But looking at it now, I couldn’t think of a more absurd fairy tale.
The dwarves did all the work, and then a random prince showed up, kissed what was essentially a corpse without permission, and took her away to marry her.

From the dwarves’ perspective, it was basically a netorare scenario.
That’s why, in the sequel I planned to write, the prince wouldn’t appear at all. I wasn’t about to risk getting stabbed by the dwarves.
Fortunately, Ashies didn’t react as I feared.

She seemed simply relieved that it had a happy ending. Her expression lightened compared to earlier.
“Rami….”
“Yes? Is there something else you’re curious about?”

“Where… is the prince?”
I paused to consider which prince she was talking about.
The prince in the fairy tale?

Or a prince in reality?
If one existed, I might have told her. But once Skadia was defeated, that would be the end—there was no prince in this story.
Still, I couldn’t just tell her there wasn’t one.

“Who knows? I’m not sure where the prince is, but if you ever need him, he’ll come running right away.”
I lied to protect what little innocence Ashies still had.
“Really…?”

“Of course.”
Ashies alternated between looking at me and the fairy tale before opening it to the first page and holding it out.
“Read it….”

“Again? We’ve already been reading it all day. Don’t you think it’s time for bed—”
“Read it.”
It was rare for Ashies to be so firm.

Facing her unyielding stare, I let out a reluctant sigh.
“Just one more time. After this, you go to bed.”
Ashies slowly nodded.

Clearing my throat, I began reading the story again in a calm voice.
“Once upon a time, in a faraway kingdom, there was a beautiful princess….”
As I read, Ashies quietly glanced sideways at me, sneaking a look without me noticing.

It was strange.
Ashies, who never used to care about what others thought, suddenly seemed like she didn’t want to get caught looking at me.
Looking at Karami reminded her of the prince in the story.

The prince who kissed the sleeping princess.
And as those thoughts lingered—
“…?”

Ashies suddenly placed a hand on her chest.
Her usually slow, steady heartbeat had quickened, thumping rapidly.
Her cheeks felt warm too, for some inexplicable reason.

She didn’t understand why.
But she wanted to find out.