The Freed Slaves Are Obsessed-Chapter 130: The Die of Twisting Fate (3)

Jorne already knew from previous encounters that Ashies was far from an ordinary mage.

Though he was no expert in magic, as a seasoned warrior and chieftain of his people, he possessed finely honed instincts from surviving countless battles. Even with his sharpened senses, he had no illusions—had Ashies directed her magic at him, he would have been utterly defenseless.

Reacting to her magic?

Dodging a spell with no visible signs of casting?

Even running mental simulations, no scenario ended in his victory.

Ashies’ presence was enigmatic. Jorne couldn’t detect even a fragment of bloodlust from her, even as she systematically massacred the wyverns.

She pressed her thumb against her middle finger and snapped.

An ice falcon materialized, taking flight. The wyverns grew cautious, retreating to maintain distance, but the falcon pursued relentlessly as if it had a will of its own. It soared through the skies, hunting the wyverns as if the heavens were its domain.

Finally, the falcon caught up to one.

Boom!

Upon contact, the ice falcon exploded, unleashing a wave of frost that engulfed the wyvern. Encased in ice, the creature plummeted to the ground, shattering into countless crystal fragments upon impact.

It was a spell that would leave even the most renowned noble mages speechless. But Ashies’ exceptional talent had its roots in several factors.

Before being sealed in an ice crystal, Ashies had already been the most gifted mage in her kingdom.

She required no complex chants, magic circles, or time to gather power. Her will alone was enough to manifest spells.

She had cast her first spell at the age of two. What more explanation was needed? Ice wasn’t just a tool to her—it was an extension of her very being.

Ironically, Ashies’ magic had reached its zenith after being sealed by Skadia.

The Ice Dragon, Skadia.

Born of ice, she was ice incarnate—a dragon as cold as the frost she embodied.

Though the act of sealing Ashies was crude and oppressive, it was undeniable that she had been chosen by Skadia. To be chosen by a dragon was to receive its blessing.

Ashies had been granted the Ice Dragon’s Blessing—the power to manipulate ice on an unparalleled scale.

With a mere gesture, she could construct bridges or raise entire castles of ice.

Already a prodigy in ice magic, the addition of Skadia’s blessing rendered her unmatched in the element.

A mere wyvern, a subspecies of dragons, stood no chance.

Each snap of her fingers turned a wyvern into shattered ice.

Screeeeech!

The "tyrants of the sky" wailed pitifully, signaling danger—not to a battalion, but to a single frail-looking woman.

As the saying goes, beware of old men in a profession where men die young, and women in places they don’t belong. In a world where magic existed, the same rule applied—no ordinary woman would wander into such a perilous region.

At the center of the wyvern flock, their leader—a larger, more imposing specimen—began inhaling deeply, its chest swelling as it prepared to unleash a massive breath of fire.

Ashies extended her arm, conjuring a barrier of ice.

Ssshhhh...

The curse woven into her soul activated. An immense chill emanated from her, nullifying the heat of the incoming flames.

Fire might melt ice, but against a greater ice, it was useless. With a slight motion of her hand, Ashies redirected the frost.

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Crack!

The breath instantly froze, the ice surging back along its path to engulf the wyvern’s mouth and body. The once-dominant leader was reduced to a motionless block of ice.

Screeeeeech!

The strongest of the flock had fallen. As is often the case, the loss of their leader caused the remaining wyverns to scatter, retreating without a second glance.

Ashies, observing the scene, clenched her fist.

Shatter!

The frozen leader crumbled into dust, sending sparkling ice crystals cascading from the sky.

To the Northerners, snow was both a familiar and tiresome presence, but the ice now falling was so breathtakingly beautiful that they stared in awe.

Ashies remained expressionless, unbothered by the urgency of the battle. Her tranquil demeanor, surrounded by softly falling ice crystals, evoked the warmth of a mother reading a fairy tale on a winter’s night.

“Well, well. A sudden wyvern attack. If she weren’t my slave, this could’ve been a real disaster,” Karami interjected, breaking the spell of the moment with his usual tactlessness. In the midst of the aftermath, no one was in a position to rebuke him.

Hands behind his back, Karami strolled leisurely through the village.

“What a mess this place has become. A random wyvern flock? Luck doesn’t get much worse than this. It’s practically a natural disaster.”

“......”

“Still, if we’d been here from the start, there would’ve been minimal damage. Such a shame, really.”

Jorne remained silent.

There was no denying the assistance Karami and his group had provided. Without them, the village would have been utterly destroyed.

“What do you want?” Jorne finally asked.

“I’ve already told you—our goal is the Lazulite.”

Suspicion filled Jorne’s gaze.

Though he had distanced himself from worldly affairs, Jorne was not blind to the darker aspects of merchants, especially slave traders. They were the type to stoop to any level, even trafficking lives, to achieve their goals.

If Karami intended to use Ashies to steal the Lazulite, Jorne knew he couldn’t stop him.

Why didn’t he just take it by force? Jorne couldn’t read Karami’s intentions.

Whatever the reason, as chieftain, Jorne knew there was only one course of action for him to take.

“As I’ve said before, that gem is the symbol of our tribe. Even if you’ve saved this village, I cannot hand it over to an outsider. If you desire something else, I’ll consider it.”

“Hm, I wonder if there’s anything in this tiny village that could possibly satisfy me,” Karami mused with exaggerated skepticism.

Jorne’s mood grew heavier as he considered the situation.

Clap!

Karami suddenly clapped his hands, a wide grin spreading across his face. “I assure you, I have no intention of taking it by force. I stake my honor as a merchant on it.”

“Your honor as a merchant?” That sounded as reliable as a child’s promise to marry their father when they grow up.

“And what would you propose?” Jorne asked, suspicious.

“If the chieftain himself were to willingly hand me the gem, wouldn’t that resolve everything?”

“I can’t imagine you’ll convince me to do that.”

“Well, we won’t know until we try.”

Karami laid out his proposal. “Here’s what I suggest. Allow us to stay in your village for a month. During that time, I’ll work to convince you to hand over the gem. I promise not to resort to violence. If I fail by the end of the month, we’ll leave without complaint.”

“......”

“This is my final peaceful proposal. Please think carefully, so you won’t regret your decision.”

Jorne fell into contemplation. He couldn’t predict what Karami might do if he refused this offer.

‘As expected...’

There wasn’t much of a choice. As chieftain, Jorne couldn’t gamble with the lives of his people, and he knew Darca well enough to be certain she would never willingly part with the Lazulite.

“I’ll accept. But understand this—I don’t trust you. Every move you make will be watched.”

“In a small village like this, plotting something would be quite the challenge. I accept your terms,” Karami replied with a satisfied grin, his eyes sweeping across the village.

Thanks to Ashies’ intervention, there were no casualties, but the village was in chaos. Collapsed tents and scattered belongings painted a picture of the chaos left in the wake of the wyvern attack. Many villagers were still shaken, unable to recover from the terror.

“It would be best to leave them to sort things out for now,” Karami said. “If we intrude, we’ll only add to the confusion. We’ll withdraw for tonight and return tomorrow once things have settled. Shall we, Miss Ashies?”

Ashies nodded silently, giving the village one last glance before following Karami as they departed.

Jorne’s gaze remained fixed on their retreating figures until they disappeared from view. Only then did he let out a shallow sigh.

The uneasy feeling gnawed at him, but for now, cleaning up the village took precedence.

“What are you all standing around for? Check for injuries and get these tents back up!”

“Yes, Chief!” the warriors responded promptly.

Jorne glanced briefly at the smoke rising in the distance before returning to issuing his orders with practiced efficiency.

Isn’t gambling tiresome if you do it too much?

Not at all. Every time feels fresh and exciting.

Of course, it’s easy to say that when things are going well.

But gambling is always about hoping for the best, not worrying about the worst. Anyone who approaches it with that level of foresight must be some kind of genius.

At least, I’m not one.

‘Even Lin’s absence seems to work in my favor.’

I wonder what she’s up to now.

I don’t care, as long as it doesn’t cause trouble for me.

Heavenly Pavilion of Bestia.

A place where the Dreaming Garden rests in place of the sky.

A small nine-tailed fox was rolling around on the floor.

“Lin misses Master sooooooo much!”