Chapter 121: The Princess Slave and Her Master
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 121: The Princess Slave and Her Master
“Whoa…”
Even though some time had passed since they’d discovered Azyeth, the gasps of awe never ceased. I could understand how they felt, but I wanted to get out of this damn cold place as soon as possible.
“Hargran. The Flame of Magmora.”
“Huh? Oh, right! I was just about to!”
Hargran, who had been staring blankly, snapped back to his senses.
“Hey! How long are you going to stand there like idiots? Bring the bags, now!”
“Yes, Chief!”
The dwarves, who had been carrying bags larger than themselves throughout the march, stepped forward. They were special containers holding the molten metal of Magmora.
The ice crystal imprisoning Azyeth could only be melted by the molten metal of Magmora. After all, it was a dragon that had trapped her.
“Just pour it on the crystal.”
“But if we do that, the princess inside will get hurt…”
I hadn’t even told them who she was, and they were already calling her ‘Princess.’ Leave it to dwarves to have a keen eye for royalty.
“It’s fine, just pour it. It won’t melt unless you pour it directly on.”
The dwarves hesitated with uncertain expressions before reluctantly beginning to pour the molten metal.
The boiling, crimson liquid touched the crystal. Sssss— Steam hissed out. The ground melted where the runoff metal touched it.
Even so, the ice crystal imprisoning Azyeth showed little change. It was only melting ever so slightly.
“It won’t even melt with the molten metal of Magmora. What the hell is this thing? Who in the world is this lass, how did you know she was here, and what the hell is going on?”
“It’s nothing special. The hill above this cave is actually a dragon’s nest—a dragon’s lair. She’s a trophy the dragon brought back.”
“W-What, you twig of a bastard? A dragon’s lair?”
A murmur went through the dwarves.
These were the same men who, before we set out, had been confident they could handle any demonic beast. But at the mere mention of a dragon, their faces turned pale.
“What’s the matter? You’re practically cousins. Dragons, dwarves… close enough. You should get along.”
“Get along with those damn reptiles who are always stealing the jewelry we make? No way! I knew something was strange. This twig was planning to sell us out to the dragon!”
“Nonsense, that’s a groundless accusation. The dragon is nowhere to be seen, is it? It’s away from its nest. If we finish our business and leave before it returns, it’ll never know.”
I gestured to the dwarves, whose hands had frozen mid-task.
“What are you doing? Get a move on. Do you want to become dragon popcorn? You’re all plump, so you’d probably be delicious.”
The dwarves scrambled to pour the molten metal again. Slowly but surely, the crystal was shrinking.
If even the solution from the Heart of Magmora could barely melt it, anything else wouldn’t have even left a scratch.
A thick, hazy smoke filled the cave.
The intense heat chased away the cold.
The mix of cool and hot felt quite pleasant, like being in a sauna.
Like men carrying buckets of water to a burning house, the dwarves worked tirelessly, but their movements gradually slowed and then stopped. They had poured out all the molten metal they’d brought.
“That’s all of it.”
“Good. Now we wait.”
The crystal thinned as it melted. Through a crack, a lock of Azyeth’s hair cascaded down with a soft rustle, like a frozen valley thawing into a trickling stream.
Careful…
I approached the crystal, avoiding the holes melted by the solution. I carefully lifted the sleeping Azyeth out and carried her in my arms, princess-style.
Only then was Azyeth finally in my arms.
“Is she even alive?”
“Of course. She was just forced into hibernation.”
Her breathing was faint, but it was there.
Azyeth, sleeping peacefully just a hand’s breadth away. It felt redundant to say, but seeing her in person, right before my eyes, left me speechless.
Long, slender eyelashes casting shadows on her eyelids. Skin so white it was almost translucent, smooth as glass.
Her hair, a pure white tinged with blue, was as delicate as a snowflake and shone with a frosty light. Like a statue sculpted from ice.
Befitting her features, her body temperature was incredibly low.
It was like hugging a block of ice.
So much so that I worried she might melt in my arms.
“Hm?”
As I stared at Azyeth, the dwarves stood on their tiptoes, their interest piqued.
“What is it?”
“Well, can’t we have a look, too?”
I held Azyeth a little higher, blocking their view.
“No. She’s going to be my slave. If you look too much, she’ll wear out.”
“You twig of a bastard! You’re going to make that beautiful lass a slave? Did she commit some mortal sin in a past life?”
“She saved the world. That’s how she got to meet this kind master.”
“What the hell is going on in that head of yours to make you so shameless? One of these days, I’m going to crack that skull of yours open.”
Ignoring Hargran’s blatant insults, I shifted Azyeth onto my back and covered her with Hargran’s coat.
“Well then, shall we return to somewhere warm?”
*
Cold.
It was the name of the curse Azyeth had lived with her entire life.
No matter how many layers of clothes she wore, a biting chill seeped into her skin. If she warmed herself by a fire, the curse that had frozen her very soul would react, releasing a wave of cold.
As if determined to deny her the warmth that all living things deserve.
Azyeth did not know warmth.
Neither physically…
Nor emotionally.
Azyeth’s eyelids twitched once, then slowly began to open. Her eyes, holding the unique blue hue of winter, revealed themselves.
Blue eyes, as serene and cold as a winter lake. Not a single tremor, not even a fragment of emotion leaked out.
Blinking a few times, her eyes, which held only a languid light, reflected the world like the surface of a mirror.
And the first thing Azyeth saw upon waking from her long hibernation was…
“Hello.”
Karami, smiling gently.
But that wasn’t all.
“Oh, you’re finally awake! Are you alright?”
A short, gruff voice brushed past Azyeth’s ear. As she slowly turned her head, seven dwarves surrounding her came into view.
“Such clear eyes you have, Princess. That deep blue suits you very well.”
Ulgdar said in an affectionate voice. Hearing this, the other dwarves pushed their faces closer to get a better look.
“Move your face, Ulgdar. Let me see, too.”
“I’m the one who brought her here, you bastards. All of you, move!”
While Roxar and Hargran bickered, Ulbrahm, standing a step behind, shot a smiling glance at Thorvar.
“My friend, were you really against rescuing such a beautiful woman?”
“…”
Thorvar was speechless.
Hergen, known as the Immortal Blacksmith, was quick on the uptake.
“I know I’m only saying this now, but I was actually for it from the start. If the slave trader had asked me, I would have rolled up my sleeves and helped. Yes, indeed.”
The seven dwarves, with no consideration for the princess who had just woken from the ice, kept shoving their faces forward, trying to make their presence known.
A huge, utterly chaotic bedroom.
Suspicious middle-aged men approached.
A normal woman would have shrieked in surprise, but Azyeth showed no reaction.
“…?”
The ice princess, who didn’t even know how long she had been asleep, showed no sign of surprise. She merely blinked slowly and tilted her head slightly.
“Can’t you see you’re startling the princess? You’re in the way, so please get out.”
“What right do you have to tell us to leave?”
“I am her master. I have a duty to protect my slave from suspicious old men. So get the hell out. Go do that blacksmithing work you love so much.”
“This little brat who’s still wet behind the ears…!”
Ulbrahm stopped Hargran, who looked ready to grab me by the collar.
“Now, now, let’s not do that. Everyone, let’s leave for now. It’s not like today is our only chance. The princess will be confused if a bunch of old men surround her. Let’s call it a day.”
“Tsk. Fine. Hey, Princess. If this twig tries anything funny, just scream. We’ll come running.”
The Meisters left the private room as if they were being chased out.
Azyeth and Karami were left alone.
“They sure know a pretty face when they see one.”
Each race has its own standards of beauty. The dwarven aesthetic, in particular, differs greatly from that of humans.
They prefer stout builds and consider beards handsome. Female dwarves are not much different, except for the beards. Tightly braided hair fits their aesthetic.
In other words, Azyeth—with her long, straight hair as fine as silk and a slender, delicate frame that looked like it would break at a touch—was the complete opposite of the dwarven ideal.
And yet, they reacted like that. It seems beauty that surpasses a certain threshold transcends race. The fact that such a person was his slave simply made Karami smile.
Of course, the thought of the process he’d have to go through to liberate her made his future seem bleak. But he had to start somewhere, one step at a time.
“Can you understand me?”
“…”
“If you can, please blink three times.”
Azyeth slowly blinked her eyes.
Once.
…
Twice.
…
And a final, third time.
It took Azyeth a full ten seconds to blink three times. It was a speed slow enough to make one burst with frustration, but Karami didn’t mind and kept smiling.
“Good. Let’s introduce ourselves. My name is Karami. I’m a slave trader, and your master.”
“…?”
“You are my slave. I am your master. Do you understand that?”
Azyeth, who had been tilting her head repeatedly, slowly nodded. It was a reaction that didn’t make it clear whether she understood or not.
“I’ve introduced myself, so now it’s your turn, Princess. Will you tell me your name?”
Azyeth remained silent for a long time, just blinking, showing no reaction. Just as a full minute had passed…
“…zyeth…”
Azyeth’s lips, a pale pink as if lacking pigment, parted slightly.
“Azyeth… Pri…ana.”
“Good, Miss Azyeth. And who am I?”
“…rami…?”
Karami wagged his finger.
“Nope, nope. My name is Karami, and I am your master, Miss Azyeth. Who am I?”
“Rami…”
It seemed being in the ice for so long had frozen her thoughts as well. And so began Karami’s impromptu vocabulary lesson.
“Let’s try this one syllable at a time, shall we? First, ‘Ka’.”
“Ka.”
“Good. Next is ‘ra’.”
“mi.”
“Mi…?”
“…Rami?”
“?”
“…?”
The two of them tilted their heads, looking at each other.
Is this working?
“Who am I?”
“Rami.”
“…Just call me Master.”
“Okay… Rami.”
Karami squeezed his eyes shut.
It was around then that he realized something was more wrong than he had thought.