The Freed S*aves Became Obsessed

Chapter 122

Cold.

It was the name of the curse that had clung to Ashies all her life.

No matter how many layers she wore, the biting chill seeped into her skin. When she approached a fire, the curse reacted, sending waves of icy cold that seemed to freeze even her soul.

It was as if the warmth that every living being deserved was denied to her.@@@@

Ashies did not know warmth—neither physically nor emotionally.

After awakening Ashies and completing the slave contract, it was time to settle down and use a central base to progress the story, as always.

For Ashies, the obvious choice was Doomheim.

Securing a suitable place for lodging in Doomheim seemed like the best move.

It was worth noting: I was rich.

Running a cat café had earned me steady profits, and freeing Lin had netted me some hefty points. I had thousands of gold coins at my disposal.

Sure, with all the blacksmiths around, I could build a house from scratch, but managing it would be a hassle.

Plus, Ashies could benefit from steady interaction with others.

With all that in mind, I decided to stay at Torbar’s house. Having Ferka around—someone closer to Ashies in age—was a bonus.

"Don’t be ridiculous. Get out."

Of course, Torbar wasn’t going to agree easily.

"Do you really expect the princess to sleep on the streets?"

"I know the other Meisters invited you to their homes. Pick one of those. A house is a house."

"I turned them all down. I’m a shy person. Being around strangers makes me uncomfortable."

Torbar shot me a look that screamed, ‘You? Shy?’ I’ll have you know, I score 98% introverted on every MBTI test.

That’s how I ended up isekai’d while gaming all day in my room.

"You’re telling me to let Ferka live with a slave trader?"

"I’m her savior. And having us stay here is beneficial for you, too."

"How so?"

"Miss Ashies is a princess. She represents the pinnacle of womanhood, the highest status a woman can hold. Living with her might inspire Ferka, don’t you think?"

Torbar’s eyes widened.

"Wow... Sis, you’re really a princess?"

"Prin...cess...?"

"Of course! Look how white and beautiful she is. I’ve never seen anyone as pretty as you!"

Our gazes turned toward the source of the girl talk. Ashies was sitting primly, while Ferka stared at her with a sparkling admiration, like a young girl marveling at a fairy tale heroine. As promised, I had freed Ferka.

Torbar, who’d been frustrated with Ferka’s tomboyish behavior, was visibly swayed by the thought of Ashies positively influencing her.

His trembling pupils betrayed his inner conflict. One final push was all it would take.

"I’ll cover our living expenses and help you with any commissions. You know my skills better than anyone."

"..."

I piled on conditions that would be hard for Torbar to refuse. It was only a matter of time before he caved.

"There’s only one spare room in my house."

"That’s fine. We’ll share the same room. Just keep the room warm and set up two beds."

Considering Ashies’ constant aura of icy cold, I’d freeze to death if we slept too close.

"I won’t interfere with how you treat your slave, but this is my house. If I hear anything suspicious, you’re out. Got it?"

"Of course. I’m a kind slave trader who never lays a hand on his slaves."

"Hah. Sure, you are..."

And just like that, lodging was secured without much trouble.

"Wow... It’s like a goddess statue come to life."

"Sweetheart? Why are you staring like that?"

She froze Ashies’ body to stop aging.She sealed her emotions to prevent sorrow.She locked away her thoughts to prevent deep reflection.She stopped her time entirely.

Her hair was soft and cool to the touch—surprisingly pleasant.

Under normal circumstances, touching a woman’s hair would be unthinkable, especially for a stranger. But Ashies remained motionless, showing no reaction as I tousled her hair.

Convenient, at least.

She didn’t resist because she couldn’t distinguish between right and wrong.

The problem was figuring out how to teach this living embodiment of dry ice what warmth felt like.

Should I have her dip her hands in molten steel?

Probably not. She’d freeze it before it even touched her.

There were many ways to experience warmth, so I’d find something eventually.

Before stepping away, I gave her hair one last rough ruffle.

"Let’s go. There’s a lot I haven’t explored yet."

As I moved ahead, Ashies remained where she was, placing her hand on her head.

"Warmth...?"

I briefly held my breath before exhaling with a smile.

"Yes, that could be a kind of warmth too."

The nights in the underground city of Doomheim were special.

Devoid of sunlight, moonlight, or starlight, the city was illuminated by artificial luminescent stones embedded in the ceiling, casting a warm golden glow like daylight.

But even in the underground city, darkness had its place.

As the time shifted, the light’s hue deepened from bright azure to a rich indigo, eventually settling into a dark, night-sky purple.

Magmar’s Heart closed its gates, halting the flow of lava veins. Blacksmiths tidied their forges and returned home.

It was the darkest hour of Doomheim’s 24-hour cycle.

On the second floor of Torbar’s house, Ashies lay alone in the bed of the room Karami had secured. Karami, meanwhile, was crammed onto the sofa downstairs.

With Mirabel or Lin, he could’ve simply shared a bed, but not with Ashies. Her icy aura would freeze him to death.

Until a new bed and proper insulation were arranged, this would be the routine.

"..."

Ashies stared out the window, her mind blank.

She had no thoughts of why she was here or memories of what had happened in the past.

Even the desire for revenge against Skadia, the source of all her suffering, didn’t burn within her. Her emotions had been frozen solid, just like her body.

A flower that never knew spring remained buried in winter soil, unable to bloom.

The only external sensation Ashies had felt was Karami’s hand patting her head.

It was unfamiliar.

Ashies had called it warmth, but it wasn’t warmth—not in the traditional sense. Her body was so frozen that even fire couldn’t elicit a response.

What she felt wasn’t warmth—it was simply the tactile sensation of his hand.

How to describe it?

How to...?

How to...?

"..."

Ashies had no words for it.

Her sealed emotions and thoughts offered no way to express what she felt. Her lashes fluttered for a moment before settling back into stillness.

A fleeting instant, like the ticking of a clock’s second hand.

...?

What was that just now?

Ashies couldn’t recognize the irritation born of frustration.