The Freed Slaves Are Obsessed-Chapter 129: The Die of Twisting Fate (2)

[Completion of Liberating the Misfortune-Bringing Fox]

Misfortune knows no bounds.

This was the motto of a small pink fox living in a foggy gorge, a phrase tucked deep within her heart.

The fox girl had no name. As a sentient being, she should have been granted one, but all she had were derogatory labels used to refer to her.

The Calamity Fox.

The Pink Curse.

Her pink fur alone was enough to make her the scapegoat for every misfortune. Ostracized by her kind, she often went hungry and had to play life-or-death games of tag just to survive.

Even when she did the right thing, all she received in return was blame. She was nothing more than an unwanted cub to those around her.

Yet, the girl didn’t mind.

She knew nothing but misfortune and had no concept of what "good things" were. Being despised was an everyday reality for her—a burden she believed she was meant to bear.

But then, you came into her life. To the fox girl, your arrival was nothing short of a miracle.

You carefully combed the pink tail she had once considered a brand of shame and gave her a beautiful name—a name for someone who had never had one before.

Her name was Lin.

Lin learned what love was.

A loved girl blossoms beautifully. She grew up, learned to smile, began to savor the taste of food, and discovered the joy of play.

Through countless trials and hardships, nurtured by your affection, Lin spread her tails like a blooming flower, transforming from a fragile child into a dignified nine-tailed fox.

Though she caused her share of accidents and problems, one thing never changed—her mischief was always an expression of her affection for you.

She overcame her misfortune and gained the ability to decide her own fate.

Her name was Lin.

The fate-twisting nine-tailed fox.

On that day, you changed the destiny of the nine-tailed fox.

You became her very own four-leaf clover.

Lin's Liberation Rate has reached 100%.

Reward: 50,000 points have been credited.

[Shackles of the Soul] skill has been enhanced.[Master Who Gives Freely] skill has been significantly strengthened.New Skill Unlocked: [Animal Lover].Additional rewards are available.

The King of Yokai, the Fox Deity Nine-Tailed Fox.

The absolute ruler is always lonely.

Yet you made the nine-tailed fox, who only looked upwards, glance to the side and reach out to share the warmth of companionship.

Even if your meeting was brief, precious bonds do not break easily.

The nine-tailed fox winks at you with affection.

New Item Acquired: Die of Twisting Fate.

Item Effect: Roll the die. The power of the nine-tailed fox twists fate in proportion to the number rolled. Higher numbers bring fortune; lower numbers bring misfortune.

(This item can be used once every seven days.)

[Completely Liberate Your Main Slaves: Current Progress 3/5]

Every time I see the liberation completion screen, it fills me with joy. It feels like collecting achievements or completing a perfect run.

I closed the screen and closely examined the die in my hand.

Die of Twisting Fate.

This wasn’t some passive skill you forget about—it was an active item, a rare 20-sided die.

Its pink base color resembled the nine-tailed fox’s fur, and the carved numbers shimmered with a mesmerizing twilight glow, blending sunlight and moonlight from her heterochromatic eyes.

"Looks just like her," I muttered.

The higher the number, the better the luck; the lower the number, the worse the misfortune. It worked just like dice in a TRPG.

I had already tested it before.

While I had a rough idea of the item’s mechanics, experience was key. I needed to understand exactly how luck and misfortune manifested.

That way, I’d know whether to use it in crucial moments.

The first time I used the die was shortly after leaving Bestia and arriving in the next city.

The number I rolled was a three. For a six-sided die, it might be average, but with twenty sides, that was a low roll—perfect for inviting misfortune.

As a result, I was extorted at the city checkpoint.

By sheer bad luck, a knight infamous for despising slave traders just so happened to be off-duty and loitering at the checkpoint that day.

When he gave me a choice to “fork it over or scram,” I handed over the money. And suddenly, a new option appeared: handing over 30 gold. Just great.

That bastard earned more than his monthly salary in one go.

The next time I rolled the die, it was when a noble lady in a passing carriage decided she wanted me brought to her mansion.

Apparently, she took quite a liking to me, but I wasn’t interested. If someone isn’t a slave, they just don’t catch my eye.

But how could a mere commoner refuse a noble’s command? If her escort knight decided to kill me on the spot, my life would end right there.

I could’ve used my stealth cloak to escape, but come on, who could resist a gamble? With the situation practically begging for it, I rolled the die.

The result? A 12. A decently high number.

And so, the noblewoman’s “urgent stomach troubles” ended the ordeal. She and her knight scurried back to the mansion, leaving me entirely forgotten.

It was misfortune for her but fortune for me.

In other words, if I roll well, I could easily resolve my current predicament.

"What if I roll a low number?" you ask.

Well, gambling is always the future me’s problem, not the present me’s.

Even if I roll a one, the worst-case scenario is heightened misfortune, not the end of the world. It’s manageable.

It’s a gamble worth trying.

“Anyone feel like they’re lucky today?” I asked.

“I... I don’t really know. My luck isn’t particularly good or bad.”

"Neutral luck can be interpreted as good. Then what about you, Ashies? Never mind."

“......”

Right. If you had good luck, you wouldn’t have been caught by a dragon in the first place.

"I’ll roll it myself."

“What? I thought you were going to let me roll it?” Ferka said, surprised.

“That was just a question. Why would I give up something this fun?”

It’s not every day you get a chance like this. Besides, the weeklong cooldown makes it too precious to waste.

Ferka stared at me in disbelief, but there was no way I’d let her take it.

"Alright, here goes."

I tossed the die high into the air. It spun as it fell, landing on the ground.

The die rolled across the ground, spinning until it finally came to a stop.

Let’s see... The number on the die is...

“Seven.”

“Seven it is.”

The die shimmered with a twilight glow before vanishing altogether. It had activated, twisting fate in its wake.

“What in the world was that just now?” Ferka asked, bewildered.

“Wait and see. The results will show themselves soon enough.”

On a die with 20 sides, rolling a seven wasn’t particularly high, but it wasn’t terrible either.

Lucky number seven, right?

Just like the joker is a wild card in a deck of cards, seven could be a hidden blessing even if it’s on the lower end.

A deafening screech tore through the air.

I stepped outside the tent, where an enormous shadow loomed over the ground. High above, multiple flying creatures filled the sky—a flock of wyverns.

“W-Wyverns!”

“What are those monsters doing here?!”

“Put out the fires now!”

The dwarves scrambled, throwing snow over the flames and huddling on the ground with their heads covered.

“Karami! What the hell did you do? Why are wyverns suddenly here?” Ferka shouted in panic.

“‘Suddenly here’? They’re flying just fine, last I checked.”

“This is no time for jokes!”

If drakes dominate the land, then wyverns rule the skies.

Wyverns, distant cousins of dragons, were often called the tyrants of the skies, filling the void left by the reclusive dragons who rarely left their lairs. Even a party of seasoned adventurers would count themselves lucky if a single member survived an encounter with a wyvern.

And now, an entire flock of them was heading straight for Lake Fortress.

Whether they could even be stopped was doubtful, and if they were, the damage would undoubtedly be immense.

I quickly pieced it together. It wasn’t hard to figure out how the die had twisted fate. Watching Ashies gaze up at the sky, I called out to her.

“Ashies?”

“...?”

“It’s time to provide the cure for the disease.”

“Do not panic! Women and children to the tents! All Northguards, prepare for combat!”

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Jorne, the chieftain of Lake Fortress, issued his orders with calm precision. The Northerners moved quickly, following his commands.

“Chieftain! Look, a wyvern!”

One of the Northguard warriors, firing arrows into the sky, pointed to a wyvern that had broken formation. Unlike the others that circled above, this curious one descended aggressively toward the ground.

Its powerful wingbeats made the tents flap violently, threatening to tear them apart. Inside, a woman huddled over a group of children, too frozen to act.

The wyvern screeched and lunged, its slimy maw dripping saliva. But before it could strike, Jorne sprang into action. Drawing his twin tomahawks, he kicked off the ground with explosive force.

Using the tent poles and walls as footholds, he propelled himself straight at the wyvern like a saber-toothed tiger.

With no hesitation, Jorne leapt onto the wyvern’s neck and swung his tomahawk down with a mighty blow to its skull.

The wyvern’s thick scales would have been impervious to ordinary blades, but Jorne was no ordinary warrior. He was a champion of his people.

With a loud crack, the magically enhanced tomahawk crushed through the wyvern’s skull.

The beast let out a pained shriek, flailing desperately to throw Jorne off.

But Jorne held on, tightening his grip with his legs and driving the axe deeper.

The wyvern staggered, teetering dangerously, before finally collapsing to the ground.

One wyvern down.

Its hide and teeth were valuable trophies that could be used to craft high-quality gear, but there was no time to think about that. Jorne stood up quickly to assess the battle.

“Do not retreat! If you fall back, your loved ones will become the monsters’ prey!”

The Northguards were all seasoned warriors. Despite the chaos of the wyvern assault, none of them showed fear.

But courage alone wouldn’t be enough. The enemy was a flock of airborne monsters—the tyrants of the skies.

The Northguards, unaccustomed to aerial combat, could do little more than shoot arrows. Magic was a luxury reserved for the scholars of the cities.

Darca, the shamanic elder, could use spells, but in her current state, she was of no help. Jorne bit his lip, trying to think of a solution.

Then came the report.

“Chief! The wyverns are diving!”

Having finished their reconnaissance, the main flock of wyverns began their descent en masse. The overwhelming force of their dive felt like a carpet bombardment.

This couldn’t be stopped.

For a brief moment, the image of a razed village flashed through Jorne’s mind.

Suddenly, the sound of shattering ice filled the air.

From somewhere nearby, a barrage of ice spears shot into the sky, intercepting the diving wyverns and wounding them. The injured creatures veered upward in surprise, retreating into the higher skies.

“Magic...? Who?”

Jorne turned to look.

Amid the chaos of the battlefield, a lone figure approached with calm, measured steps.

She glowed faintly, scattering ice crystals around her, her very presence like a vision of the Snow Queen herself.