The Freed S*aves Became Obsessed

At Lake Fortress, two major events frequently occur.

One involves conflicts with other tribes, and the other revolves around hunting down monsters. The former unfolds naturally with time, while the latter is revealed through Darka.
Karami, though aware of these events, had no intention of stepping in uninvited. After all, this was a story for Darka to share with Ashies. It was best to wait quietly and let things progress naturally.
‘But of course, I can’t just sit idly by.’

It’s a master’s instinct to lend a hand to a struggling slave. At the very least, Karami planned to provide a connection to smooth things along.
Taking advantage of his role as the “friend’s son,” Karami entered Darka’s tent with ease and introduced Ashies.
“Chief, this is Miss Ashies. Ashies, greet the Chief.”

Ashies tilted her head slightly in acknowledgment.
Darka leaned in, scrutinizing Ashies intently, tilting her head side to side like a seesaw, as if studying a fascinating curiosity.
Her wide eyes, unusually lively, sparkled with intrigue.

“You are…”
“What’s wrong, Chief?”
“You are…”

Darka stared at Ashies for a long while, her lips moving faintly, before exclaiming:
“What a pretty young lady!”
And with that, she said the most generic thing imaginable.

“You remind me of my younger self!”
“Haha, it seems your madness has deepened, Chief.”
“Madness, you rascal! Do you know how beautiful I was in my prime? Do you know how many men from other tribes begged to marry me?”

“Oh dear, my sincerest apologies for the misunderstanding. I thought perhaps senility had set in.”
“You insolent brat.”
Darka clicked her tongue in mock annoyance, then returned her gaze to Ashies.
“You’re quite the fascinating young lady. Looking at you brings back old memories.”

“What kind of memories, Chief?”
“When I was a child! My grandmother used to tell me old stories. Others found them boring, but I loved them. I’d sit by the fire, munching on snacks, completely engrossed.”
“That sounds intriguing. Would you share one of those stories with us?”

“Why not! I’ve been needing someone to talk to, and as always, it’s only Karami who thinks of me! Everyone else refuses to listen to my stories—they throw a fit every time I start.”
As she spoke, Darka cast a sidelong glance at Jorn, who lingered in the corner of the tent, silently observing Karami and Ashies. Even with dementia, she clearly remembered the slights she had suffered.
Jorn averted his gaze, clearly uncomfortable. A once-loyal servant who had spent half his life assisting the chief now found himself relegated to the status of an enemy due to Karami’s arrival.

“Where should I start? Ah, I should tell you about when our tribe was first established. Our first chief was my great-great-grandmother.”
Darka began her story with visible excitement, her demeanor akin to an elderly person lost in the glory of “back in my day.”
“Of course, I never met her, but I know she was an amazing woman. Chiefs of Lake Fortress have always been shamans, and she was no exception.”

Shamans, also called seers, were figures of spiritual authority who practiced their craft from a young age. They protected the tribe and prayed for the village’s safety.
While it might seem insignificant to outsiders, for the tradition-reverent northern tribes, this role was vital—a source of both spiritual and communal strength.
“But she wasn’t just any ordinary shaman.”

“Oh? What made her special?”
“She was a court magician for an entire kingdom! She had the power to foresee the future. She foresaw an evil dragon invading the kingdom, escaped in advance, and founded our tribe!”
“She escaped? And left everyone else to die?”

“Silence!”
Darka snapped.
“It wasn’t escape—it was foresight! If she hadn’t fled, this story wouldn’t have been passed down to future generations!”

“Oh, of course. She sounds remarkable.”
“Not only did she escape, but she brought with her a very important artifact from the royal family—a magical gem!”
“A thief, then.”

“Silence!!!”
Darka shot to her feet.
Perhaps Karami’s voice carried a magical quality, for there was no other way to explain how the frail elder was suddenly brimming with energy.

But Karami decided to hold his tongue. If Darka grew any more energized, there was a real risk of her staff coming down on his head.
Breathing heavily, Darka sat back down with a thud.
“You’re such a cheeky brat. I should’ve known from the way you used to play with Baskal. Now, where was I?”

“You were talking about the magical gem.”
“Yes, the magical gem. This is the very gem my great-great-grandmother brought with her.”
Darka pulled out a necklace adorned with a lazurite gem.

“What does it do?”
“It keeps you warm.”
“That’s it?”

“There’s one more secret…”
Darka glanced around cautiously before whispering:
“This gem has the power to eliminate Isengar’s eternal winter. It can break the dragon’s curse.”

“Is that true? Or is it a lie?”
“How dare you call your elders liars! My great-great-grandmother herself told me this, you insolent child!”
“Then why hasn’t the curse been broken?”

“Because the time hasn’t come yet. And it’s not my task to break the curse.”
This was the prophecy passed down from the kingdom’s court magician—Darka’s great-great-grandmother.
“One day, a hero will come. That hero will bring spring to Isengar. When that hero arrives, I must entrust them with the gem. That is the duty of our chief.”

The duty passed down through generations of chiefs. Despite her muddled mind, Darka remembered this clearly.
If no hero appeared in her lifetime, she would pass the gem and its responsibility to the next generation, as it had been passed to her.
“But Baskal is far from ready…”

Fear of failing to fulfill her duty weighed heavily on Darka. She nervously fidgeted with the necklace, her trembling hands betraying her unease.
“Let it go in one ear and out the other. It’s all nonsense from an old woman.”
Jorn, who had been quietly listening, interjected at last.

“What nonsense are you referring to?”
“All of it. That the first chief was a court magician, that the dragon left a curse, and that some gem can end this winter. A hero? Ridiculous.”
“It’s not nonsense, Jorn!”

Ignoring Darka’s protest, Jorn continued coldly:
“Do you know why fairy tales exist? Because they don’t happen in reality. Only two types of people believe in fairy tales: those who know nothing of the world, or those who are unwell.”
“Hmm, is that so?”

Karami tilted his head as if in thought.
“Exactly, so don’t…”
“There’s one more type.”

“What?”
“People who live within the fairy tale.”
Karami smirked, casting a glance at Ashies before meeting Jorn’s gaze directly.

“Whether this is a false hope spun into a fairy tale, or an unfinished memoir, is not for you or me to decide. That judgment belongs to the reader, once the story is complete.”
“……”
“Until then, we are mere characters fulfilling our roles. You as the Northguard’s chief, and I as the master of my slave, while waiting for the hero—the protagonist—to shine.”

Jorn clicked his tongue internally.
Was this the refined eloquence of a trader? Conversations with Karami always felt like falling into his web, even for someone as rigid as Jorn.
“What nonsense are you two spouting now? Where did I leave off?”

“You were talking about giving the gem to the hero…”
“Oh, right! Let me tell you about when our tribe was first formed!”
“We already…”

“My grandmother used to say. Actually, my great-great-grandmother was a famous magician of the kingdom…”
The conversation looped like a broken wheel.
Karami closed his eyes in exasperation, while Ashies listened with her usual lack of expression.

Yet, as Darka continued her tale, her face seemed brighter than usual.
 
Days passed with Ashies helping with the hunts and listening to Darka’s stories.

Though Darka repeated the same tales over and over, Ashies never once complained, listening quietly each time.
It might seem like Ashies did this out of indifference, but it was subtly different. What others dismissed as delusions or fairy tales, Ashies listened to with careful attention.
The other tribespeople didn’t interfere. Up until now, they had taken turns keeping the lonely Darka company.

Having to endure the same stories until their ears practically bled was a burden. But with Ashies willingly taking on the role, none of them wanted to risk upsetting things and bearing the blame.
Thus, Ashies’ frequent visits to Darka’s tent were tacitly permitted.
“Hey, you there! What kind of house do you think you’re building? If you do it this way, it’ll be far more efficient at retaining heat!”

“Oh, wow…! This method of construction! Truly, the craftsmanship of a Dwarven artisan is unmatched!”
Karami’s party included a few dwarves. Though they were not ones to share their knowledge freely, they couldn’t stand idly by when confronted with shoddy construction.
Without being asked, they stepped in to assist. When praised by the northerners, they brushed it off like it was nothing, all the while twitching their beards in pride.

‘How is an entire race naturally tsundere?’
Still, Karami had to admit that the dwarves’ involvement significantly improved the tribe’s perception of them.
Pairing the underdeveloped northern people with the technically unparalleled dwarves had always been part of Karami’s plan.

Had it been elves—proud and prone to flaunting their superiority—the northerners would have rejected them outright out of sheer pride. But with the dwarves’ down-to-earth approach, cooperation was possible.
Contrary to the initial concerns of the northerners, Karami’s group brought peace and calm to the village.
That peace lasted—until a merchant caravan arrived in the village.

“Oh my… What a stunningly beautiful lady. Might you be willing to part with her? I can pay you handsomely.”
The merchant’s words broke the stillness like a slap.