"The city exploration continued today."
It was another day dedicated to broadening Ashies' world, which until now had been limited to a confined block of ice. There was so much she lacked, and it was Karami's job to teach her.
Ashies’ storyline was unlike the other slaves’.
While characters like Mirabel, Arpia, and Lin focused on the growth of their abilities, Ashies’ story centered on the growth of her mind. Through persistent interactions with others, her frozen emotions would begin to thaw. It was Karami’s task to rescue the princess cursed into becoming a snowman.
There was a reason Ashies' story unfolded in Doomheim. Only the dwarves’ fire could lt the walls of ice surrounding her.
So Karami pondered:
"Where would be the best place to start?"
He needed an environnt where Ashies could shine and integrate seamlessly with others. The answer was clear.
Karami brought Ashies to the mines where the railway installation had begun. With Ashies by his side, he didn’t need to try to draw attention—it naturally followed her.
As the dwarves paused their work to stare at them, Karami’s lips curled into a knowing smile.
“Gentlen, by any chance, are you feeling hot?”
“Are you kidding us, you lanky twig? Can’t you see us sweating like pigs? Or are your eyes just for decoration?”
“Did you co here just to mock us?”
“Haha, of course not. I ca to offer you all a blessing.”
Ignoring the death glares from the dwarf miners, Karami turned to Ashies. Despite the sweltering heat of the mines, standing next to her made it feel like a midwinter frost.
“Your Highness, would you be so kind as to grant these poor folks so relief?”
“Why...?”
“Because mining is hard work, and it makes people sweat. Sweat makes them uncomfortable. You could help cool them down.”
Ashies flinched, lowering her gaze as she muttered softly, “But... everyone hates the cold...”
It seed she still felt guilty about turning Fluffy into a block of ice and freezing the rose earlier.
Ashies' current ntal state was similar to that of a child. Children naturally learn to gauge their parents' reactions for survival—it’s an instinctual behavior.
Though Karami had tried to ease her worries, it seed it wasn’t enough.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll love it. Trust , just give it a try.”
After hesitating for a mont, Ashies reluctantly nodded. She extended her hand, and a soft magical glow surrounded her.
Whoosh.
A cool breeze blew through the mine. The air turned crisp, carrying the unmistakable chill of winter. Tiny snowflakes began to fall from the ceiling.
Winter had co to the mines.
“Whoa! It’s snowing!”
“Damn, what’s this breeze? It’s... it’s cooling down!”
The dwarves’ sweat quickly dried as the oppressive heat of the mines subsided.
There was no risk of them catching a cold; dwarves were naturally resistant and adjusted their body heat as needed.
Their bodies burned hot inside, while the exterior remained cool—like basking under a cozy blanket in an air-conditioned room during sumr.
“To think we can work in such cool conditions! I could do this all day!”
“What are you waiting for? Show your gratitude to the princess!”
“Thank you, Your Highness!”
The mines echoed with the dwarves’ booming cheers. They resud their work with renewed energy, swinging pickaxes and laying tracks more vigorously than before.
“See? Everyone seems happy,” Karami said.
“This is... strange...” Ashies replied quietly.
“I won’t deny that,” he admitted.
Dwarves were, after all, an eccentric species.
“But it’s not an empty complint or a white lie.”
Dwarves were like innocent children, pure-hearted and straightforward. If you showed them kindness, they’d respond by gifting you tools they’d claim they "just happened to have lying around." Show them malice, and they’d bash your head in with a hamr.
“Co to think of it, this is unfair,” Karami muttered to himself. “I bring back a working daughter and get treated like a villain. Ashies does nothing and gets treated like a princess.”
Ah, the cruelty of looks-based favoritism.
“Should we stop by from ti to ti to cool them off?” Karami suggested.
Ashies stared at the dwarves working energetically in the chilled air. After a mont’s thought, she gave a small nod.
No visit to Doomheim would be complete without stopping at its most famous location: The Drunken Barrel.
This tavern was a sanctuary for dwarves after a hard day’s work. While Doomheim had no shortage of pubs to cater to its booze-loving population, The Drunken Barrel stood out as the most renowned.
The establishnt was so popular that it lacked indoor seating for everyone. Apart from a few VIP rooms, most patrons drank at outdoor tables under the starry ceiling of the underground city.
For dwarves, drinking together forged bonds of camaraderie. During these monts, everyone was a friend, and strangers beca drinking buddies.
But amidst the raucous laughter and clinking mugs, Karami and Ashies felt like outsiders. They sat at their own table, seemingly untouched by the rowdy atmosphere. Ashies, however, found everything around her fascinating, her gaze darting from one sight to another.
“It’s so noisy here, isn’t it?” Karami comnted.
Personally, he didn’t enjoy such lively places. He preferred the quiet ambiance of The Duke’s Soirée, another renowned spot.
But this wasn’t about his preferences.
The Drunken Barrel had always been a hotbed for events in the ga, a place where pivotal monts unfolded.
If Ashies was to integrate into a normal life, this was a mandatory stop.
Despite the bustling chaos, Ashies remained serene. She exuded her usual calm deanor, her half-lidded gaze hinting at mild curiosity. Letting out a soft yawn, her frosty breath brushed against Karami, causing him to yawn in turn.
“Your al and two ales, as ordered,” the barmaid announced, setting down steaming plates of food and frosty mugs.
“Ashies, have you ever had alcohol before?” Karami asked.
Ashies tilted her head so far to the side her ear nearly touched her shoulder. It seed she hadn’t.
Feeding alcohol to her was a risky idea, but Karami was curious. After all, alcohol often revealed hidden facets of people.
How would Ashies react?
“Let’s toast,” he suggested, raising his mug.
Ashies stared blankly at her mug until Karami gently clinked it against hers.
“First drink, down it in one go—it’s tradition.”
Karami demonstrated by downing his ale in one gulp, slamming the mug onto the table.
“Ahh~!” he exclaid.
Though he wasn’t much of a drinker, the dieval ale was light, sweet, and refreshing. It even had an invigorating effect, lting away the day’s fatigue.
Ashies observed him curiously before lifting her mug and sipping cautiously. Her pale throat moved as she swallowed. She paused montarily, then continued until the mug was empty.
Ashies finished with a small lick of her lips.
‘Wow,’ Karami thought, ‘every little movent she makes is infuriatingly captivating.’
He shook off his stray thoughts and asked, “How was it? Did you like it?”
Ashies tilted her head again, her expression unreadable.
“Well, let’s keep drinking until you feel sothing!”
As Karami raised his hand to order another round, a loud voice cut through the din.
“Oho! Look who it is—the princess and the twig!”
Approaching their table was a dwarf Karami recognized from the Ironblood eting: Roxar, the Shield of the Earth.
“I’m not a twig,” Karami protested.
“Hahaha! Apologies! That nickna just sticks after hearing it from Hargran so often!”
‘That damn Hargran,’ Karami thought. In Doomheim, if sothing went wrong, nine tis out of ten, Hargran was involved.
“What a coincidence to run into you here!” Roxar said, slapping Karami on the back.
“Drinking here is a must for anyone visiting Doomheim,” Karami replied.
“Hahaha! Now that’s the spirit! Co, let’s drink together!”
“I’ve even treated the princess to her first drink,” Karami added casually.
Roxar’s expression froze.
“You... did WHAT?!”
Before Karami could react, Roxar grabbed him by the collar.
“How dare you corrupt our pure princess with your vile drink, you filthy twig?!”
“She’s an adult! It’s just one drink!”
But Roxar’s thunderous roar drowned out his protests.
“You don’t deserve to be anywhere near the princess!”
“Wait, this is a misunderstanding! And she’s my slave—”
“WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!”
Faced with Roxar’s fiery wrath, Karami decided to change tactics.
“Okay, okay! How about we settle this the dwarven way?”
“And what’s that?” Roxar growled, his grip tightening.
“A drinking contest.”
That caught Roxar’s attention.
“Let’s see who’s truly worthy of the princess over a mug of ale!”
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