The Freed S*aves Became Obsessed

“Captain!”

Linvar infused mana into his dagger, slicing through the iron bars. Entering the cell, he cut the chains binding Tarkind.
Linvar caught Tarkind’s limp body as he slumped down, like a piece of seaweed.
“Captain! Can you hear me? Do you recognize me?”

“Uhh…?”
Tarkind looked around with hazy, unfocused eyes. His gaze settled on Linvar, who was holding him.
The long, thin strands of hair.
The faint scent unique to women.

“Hiiiik! No more females! I don’t want to mate anymore!”
“Captain? What’s wrong, Captain! It’s me, Linvar! Get a hold of yourself!”
“Hiiiieeeek!”

Tarkind let out a girlish shriek, covering his face with his arms. He struggled violently, trying to escape Linvar’s embrace.
But his body was too weakened to break free.
The proud, dependable leader of the investigation squad—seeing him reduced to this state left Linvar in stunned disbelief. At a loss for what to do, he turned to Karami.

“W-why is the captain acting like this?”
“Hmm. Maybe the female orcs did something terrible to him? Seeing how violently he’s rejecting even a human woman like you, it seems he’s been through hell.”
Karami clicked his tongue as he observed the broken Tarkind.

If you’re going to be born as a male character in a weeb game, you’d better be overpowered enough to break the meta.
But Tarkind? He was hopeless. Not only did his combat ability fail him, but he was also captured and forced into… unspeakable things by orcs.
Born a man, only to become a woman’s doormat.

‘Pathetic.’
I’m not going to end up like that.
I’ll remain a respectable master.
That’s what Karami thought.
But that wasn’t the issue right now.

For a moment, I wondered if I’d forgotten, but no. Tarkind was never in the game.
Maybe the slaves you got from the draw weren’t characters that appeared in the original game at all.
Still, thanks to Tarkind, I’d learned something new.

If you don’t rescue a slave in time and leave them unattended, they’ll fall into ruin.
Of course, it also made me wonder:
‘Did I pull him into slavery with my gacha?’

One gacha draw changed the entire world?
Maybe. Or maybe he was already a slave to begin with.
It was impossible to know right now.
“Those orc bastards… I’m going to kill them all.”

Linvar ground his teeth in fury, radiating murderous intent so intense it seemed like he wanted to erase the orc race entirely. But resolve alone wouldn’t fix anything.
“Linvar. I understand how you feel, but we’re short on time. Let’s just be satisfied that Tarkind is alive for now.”
Linvar glared sharply at Karami.

“Be satisfied? Look at the state the captain is in!”
“If you don’t like it, you can stay here. I’m not your master, and I have no obligation to look after either of you.”
Without hesitation, Karami turned on his heel. He had planned to come alone in the first place.

With the invisibility robe, sneaking around the fortress wasn’t an issue. He’d only held back on using items because Linvar was with him.
“……”
Linvar alternated his gaze between Karami’s retreating back and Tarkind.

It was infuriating, but Karami was right.
Tarkind wasn’t the only one the orcs had captured. In his current state, taking him along was impossible.
More importantly, if they stayed here, Ashies would finish off all the orcs. Linvar wanted to personally avenge Tarkind.
“Captain. Just wait here for a bit. I’ll be back soon.”

“I hate females…”
Linvar wrapped Tarkind in a coat and laid him carefully on the ground. Then, he sprinted after Karami, disappearing down the hallway.
 

Karami moved cautiously, pressing himself against the corner of a wall.
Not all the orcs had gone out to fight.
One orc patrolled the underground corridor.
‘Maybe I should’ve brought Hargran.’

Things would’ve been easier in combat, but his constant chatter was too annoying. At this point, if I freed him from the ice, he’d probably complain.
I did have the invisibility robe, but I still needed to open the door beyond the corridor and then unlock the prison cells. For that, I needed the key bundle hanging from the orc’s waist.
Even with invisibility, blatantly stealing the keys could get me caught, and that would be disastrous…

Swiish!
Just then, a sharp, ear-piercing whistling sound sliced through the air from the far end of the corridor.
Thud.

“GRAAAK!”
The orc let out a pig-like cry and collapsed. An arrow was embedded in its neck.
Linvar emerged, nocking another arrow onto her bowstring.

“For someone who strutted off so confidently, you sure didn’t get far.”
“What about Tarkind?”
“I left him in a safe place. I’ll carry him out later.”

“I see. Understood.”
Karami grabbed the key bundle from the fallen orc and continued moving.
“What’s the plan now?”

“We free the hostages and gather them all in one place.”
“Again?”
“What do you mean again?”

Linvar narrowed her eyes at Karami’s feigned ignorance. She hadn’t forgotten the words Yorn had whispered to her before they left.
“You said you’d bring back Lord Baskal, didn’t you? Don’t tell me he’s actually here.”
“Of course not. How could someone who’s already dead be here?”

Baskal had already been cremated. His grave marker lay in the village cemetery, and his ashes had scattered freely on Aisengar’s wind, becoming snow.
Karami knew this, yet he still said he would “bring back Baskal.” How could she not be wary of whatever scheme he was plotting?
“Hmph.”

Karami stopped walking in front of a locked door in the corridor.
With the keys jingling in his hand, he began to search for the one that would unlock it.
“How long do you think Chief Darka has left to live?”

“…What?”
“I don’t think it’ll be very long. The North isn’t a place where the sick can survive for long.”
It was an unfortunate truth that everyone, Linvar included, understood. But there was no helping it. Baskal couldn’t be brought back to life.

“Do you want Chief Darka to die as a senile old man, forever mourning a son who will never return?”
Click.
The door unlocked.

Inside was a dusty storage room filled with clutter.
“What are you trying to say?”
Ignoring Linvar’s question, Karami rummaged through the piles of junk.

When he finally picked something up, Linvar’s eyes went wide.
“That… is that…?”
A broken band, adorned with several decorative trinkets.
It looked like a bracelet that had been torn apart.

But to Karami, it appeared as this:
[Broken Bracelet]
Someone’s bracelet.
A faint trace of a curse remains.
“I’m going to give her a chance. A chance for Darka, who has carried the burden of the chieftain’s duties all her life, to die like a chieftain. Like a person. Of course, the choice is hers to make.”

Karami gently placed the broken bracelet into his pocket and brushed past Linvar, leaving the storage room. Now that he had what he needed, he intended to finish the remaining tasks.
Linvar stood frozen, turning her heavy gaze toward Karami. Despite the harsh northern chill, a cold sweat trickled down her back.
“Who… are you? Really?”

How in the world did he have that bracelet?
Karami turned back to her with a soft smile.
“I’m just a simple slave trader.”

The orc settlement housed thousands of orcs—low-ranking grunts, warriors, berserkers, and shamans.
They were nothing like the mongrel orcs you might see in the wild.
They didn’t swing wooden logs like clubs. Instead, they forced dwarf slaves to forge weapons and wear armor.

They were a proper army.
There was no force in the North capable of standing against the orc army. Without a doubt, they were the rulers of the North.
Swish!

In the very heart of the orc stronghold, Ashies moved like a dancer, gracefully carving through the grotesque crowd.
She trod rhythmically on the orcs’ heads as if the fortress were her own playground.
Wherever she stepped, the ground turned to ice. Any orc foolish enough to come near her froze instantly.

She was like living dry ice, allowing no one to approach.
However, the orcs were not without discipline. Trained warriors, they kept their distance and let the orc shamans weave spells.
Body enhancement magic.

The berserkers’ bodies turned crimson as the shamans’ magic took hold.
The berserkers charged forward, immune to the freezing cold for a brief moment thanks to their enhancements.
Their bodies cracked and froze as they moved, but they paid no mind.

“Uwoooooooo!!!”
Seemingly unfazed by pain, a half-frozen berserker reached Ashies’ side and swung a crimson axe.
The attack was heavier and faster than before.
But it was still far from enough to touch Ashies.

She dodged effortlessly and pierced the orc with her blade.
Her swordplay was precise and without waste, weaving an elegant yet deadly rhythm.
The berserkers might not feel pain, but they weren’t invincible. The fatal wounds she dealt sent them collapsing into the snow.

Boom!
Lightning crackled above.
A thunderbolt struck down at Ashies, erupting in an explosion of snow and debris.

But as the smoke cleared, Ashies stood unharmed. A dome-shaped ice shield surrounding her had nullified the shamans’ magic entirely.
“Kruruk… Female… Strong.”
They couldn’t break through her defenses.
No matter what they tried, nothing worked.

The orcs who had charged so confidently now hesitated, faltering as they glanced nervously at each other.
The rulers of the North—thousands of them—hesitated before a single woman.
As if they had met their true master.

“Step aside.”
“O-Our king…”
A deep, rumbling voice echoed through the fortress. The orcs flinched and parted to either side.

From between the ranks emerged a massive figure, twice the size of an ordinary orc.
Unlike the usual green of orcs, his skin was the dark shade of coal. His massive body was etched with countless scars, and a colossal double-headed axe rested on his shoulders.
The Orc King.
The ruler of the North.

Blessed by the Frost Dragon Skadia,
Valcrash, the Orc King, had appeared.