The dwarf from the watchtower, who called himself “Brown Beard,” Charlie, climbed up the watchtower and stared in one direction.
Climbing the watchtower and keeping watch was his job, but usually, he only looked toward the forest where the Empire folks came from. He hardly ever glanced in other directions. After all, there was nothing there.
But these past few days were different.
For nearly ten days, humans had been coming from that direction every single day.
“…………….”
But no one came today. Of course, that was to be expected. They had made a promise to let them participate in the festival instead of forcing them to back down under their half-threats.
Still, Charlie kept staring in that direction because of the deep-seated distrust he held.
Distrust toward the Empire and humans.
“Sigh……….”
In that sense, those “uninvited guests” were endlessly fascinating.
He hated the Empire and humans, but the only humans Charlie had ever seen were the direct imperial family and the leader of the Magic Tower. Most humans never even came to this village, only seeking out the traitors of their race. But very rarely, some humans did come this far.
And without fail, every single one of them either flaunted their power or gave orders to Charlie and the other dwarves.
──”You are the Empire’s property.”
──”You are the Empire’s slaves.”
──”You are pets who must create whatever we command.”
──”So shut up and obey!”
Every human he had seen since childhood had been like that. And they were all affiliated with the Empire.
It was only natural for a dwarf, forced to live out his entire life in this abyss under the rule of humans and their Empire, to harbor intense hostility.
……Yes, it was only natural.
When it came to “humans” and the “Empire,” it was only natural.
“But those guys……….”
Among the humans and Empire folks Charlie had met, none were like that. Sure, it was half a threat, but still, a human strong enough to erase dozens of arrows in an instant had waited for Charlie’s words without resorting to force or commands.
Of course, Charlie hadn’t met even 20 humans in his entire life.
But at least until now, that had been Charlie’s—and the dwarves’—common sense.
Moreover, what they wanted was to participate in the festival, and they even said it was fine if they themselves didn’t enter.
Charlie couldn’t let go of his wariness and suspicion toward this new kind of human.
“Hey, Charlie. It’s about time.”
“Call me Brown Beard.”
“You’re the only one with such an old-fashioned name.”
“It’s not an Empire-style name. It’s a name unique to us dwarves. Green Shoe.”
“I’m Ozben. Not Green Shoe. Anyway, we should get going. The festival is about to start.”
“……Alright.”
That’s why Charlie couldn’t entrust the watchtower to another dwarf. The dwarves in the village had abandoned their unique names and chosen Empire-style names for convenience.
Though their hatred for humans and the Empire was the same, there was a chance something might happen to those peculiar humans.
Only he, the strongest in the village and the one who would never be swayed by humans, could keep an eye on them.
That’s why he had been guarding the watchtower alone for nearly two weeks without a break.
After all, staying up a few nights was nothing to him.
‘I thought it was because we dwarves are tougher than humans……….’
But those humans had been just as lively after several days. That made him feel a little down.
Because his belief that dwarves were superior had been shattered today.
He wanted to dismiss those humans as special, but unlike the two magician humans, the man who seemed to be their leader had no powers at all. So he couldn’t even label them as special.
Charlie, who had been called Green Shoe instead of Ozben, glanced once more in the direction the humans had come from before descending the watchtower.
“By the way……Charlie, do you really think they’ll come as promised?”
“……You mean that human’s creation.”
“It’s disgusting how the Empire is now meddling even in our festivals. How dare humans send their creations to a dwarven festival?”
“It’s fine, Green Shoe.”
“It’s Osborne. Why do you think it’s okay?”
“Humans, the Empire, they won’t keep their promises.”
So, as I said, there’s no way I’ll send the work. Even though they said they wouldn’t come, they’ll surely sneak back, pushing that magician forward or barking rough orders. That’s when Charlie planned to step in himself.
The festival of the Dwarf Village, coming once every ten years.
Dwarves who lived underground built buildings on the ground like humans.
Dwarves, who named themselves after their most prominent features, started naming themselves like humans.
Even if some started shaving their beards, finding them inconvenient compared to humans.
Still, the unique festival of the dwarves continues. Charlie liked that fact.
‘But today, I won’t be able to enjoy the festival.’
I must keep guarding, preparing for when those humans who will surely break their promise invade.
The human man said he would send his work to the village, but frankly, Charlie was flabbergasted.
‘What, humans meddling in dwarven work?’
That was Charlie’s greatest pride, boast, and self-esteem.
After all, it was humans who coveted dwarven weapons and techniques, burying them in this abyss.
Ironically, Charlie felt both humiliated and superior about the dwarves’ situation.
Since humans are the ones who break promises, the work probably won’t come, but if it does, I’ll laugh at it heartily.
So thought Charlie.
“Cha, Charlie! Charlie!”
“I told you to call me Brown Beard! What’s the matter, Rough Axe?”
“It’s not Rough Axe, it’s Keltin! Ah, never mind! They’re here, they’ve come!!”
“……Those human bastards! I knew it!!”
Though I hoped for something different, it was indeed the Empire and humans.
In fact, Charlie felt refreshed. It’s easier to think when all the confusing humans are the same.
As Charlie grabbed his hammer and was about to run.
“Ah, no! It’s not humans!”
“What? Then……?”
“……It’s the traitor! The race’s traitor, War’s Hammer……!!”
“Yes, I’m here.”
“Eek!?”
Called Rough Axe, but even the axe in his hand was thrown aside as the dwarf hid behind Charlie.
A name deliberately given to fix his cowardly nature, usually mocked as pitiful.
Charlie, too, clenched his hammer, dripping with cold sweat.
“War’s…… Hammer.”
“Long time no see, Charlie.”
“I’m Brown Beard. What brings the race’s arch-criminal here?”
“……Hmm.”
“It’s your first time coming to the village, isn’t it? Isn’t that so?”
An elderly dwarf with a bent back and eyes devoid of vigor.
But as long as he held the hammer, Charlie couldn’t stop his trembling hands.
The race’s traitor, War’s Hammer.
Considering the dwarven culture of naming after the most prominent feature, the name ‘War’s Hammer’ tells what kind of life this old dwarf has lived.
The strongest, against whom even a hundred dwarves left in the village couldn’t make a dent.
Until now, living apart for hundreds of years posed no problem.
“What brings you to the village? Angry about being called a traitor?”
“If that were the case, I would have come sooner, kid. This time, it’s something else.”
“Definitely not something good, I suppose.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Just look at the cart full of weapons behind you.”
“………….”
As Charlie said, behind War’s Hammer was a large cart.
And on that cart were swords and spears, likely forged by War’s Hammer himself.
Even the number was considerable, hard to think it was brought with good intentions.
‘Maybe he wants to rejoin the village and brought them as bribes, but.’
Unlike other dwarves, Charlie had at least some interaction with War’s Hammer, so he was sure of it.
War’s Hammer would never join the village.
That meant even War’s Hammer would refuse the requests of humans and the Empire.
…And if that happened, the dwarves would surely go extinct.
Ironically, it wasn’t the struggling dwarves of the village, including Charlie, but War’s Hammer alone who was extending the lifespan of the dwarf race.
Then why did War’s Hammer bring those weapons?
Charlie stared intently at the weapons.
“Hmm?”
Under the pile of over 20 weapons, he noticed something shining.
Upon closer inspection, it was a dagger.
Like the other weapons, its blade was blunt, and it had a hook-like decoration at the end of the handle, something you could hang somewhere.
There were countless such daggers scattered around.
“And the weapons…”
The weapons, made by the greatest blacksmith, War’s Hammer, were all top-notch. If submitted to a festival, they would easily win first place in terms of quality.
But strangely, the finishing on the weapons was not just sloppy—it was downright bizarre.
The black blades were bluntly ground, the spears had their sharp tips cut off, and the axes and hammers were the same.
It was as if they had been deliberately finished to avoid causing harm.
The oddly shaped daggers hidden under the weapons, and the blunt weapons…
Charlie couldn’t understand what they were for.
“This is… an errand.”
“An errand? You? …No way?”
“Yeah, these are Kyle Byron’s creations. I just brought them here.”
“Ha! How shameless! Are you seriously claiming these weapons are Kyle Byron’s work? Anyone can see they’re made by War’s Hammer, you!!”
“…Yes, you’re right. I made these weapons. But this infuriatingly sloppy finish? That’s Kyle Byron’s doing.”
“What…?”
Did War’s Hammer really entrust the finishing of the weapons to a human? And in such numbers?
Even if he were a traitor to his race, War’s Hammer still had the pride of a blacksmith. Why would he make such a choice?
Had he sold out even the soul of a blacksmith now?
But there was a faint look of displeasure in War’s Hammer’s eyes as he looked at the weapons. Clearly, he wasn’t happy with them either.
Then why?
“Move aside. I need to prepare to display the ‘creations.'”
“…At least explain what you’ve done. Even if the blades aren’t sharp, they’re still weapons.”
“Words won’t make you understand. I didn’t get it either at first. It’s faster to see for yourself.”
“…………”
“I allowed Kyle Byron’s, a human’s, creations to be entered into the festival. The festival is about to start, so move aside.”
“…Just one question. War’s Hammer, have you truly become a ‘traitor’ now?”
“Not a chance. Just watch quietly and see what these weapons are meant to do.”
“Everyone… step aside.”
“But, Charlie!”
“We all made a promise. Unlike humans, dwarves always keep their promises.”
“…Ironically, that human kept his promise too.”
“Rough Axe!”
“Eek!?”
“See you at the festival, Charlie.”
With those brief words, War’s Hammer walked into the village with the cart.
A spot for the human’s display had already been prepared… though it was in the most remote corner of the village square where the festival would be held.
But to think the human actually kept his promise and sent his creations.
‘No… that can’t be. How can those weapons be considered creations? Is he calling them his work just because he did the finishing? What about the daggers?’
Or maybe…
‘Is he just trying to overwhelm us with quantity? How arrogant. Dwarves only recognize the single best creation. That’s the human way.’
Humans. The Empire. Pfft.
Always lying, ignoring dwarves, giving orders, and just mocking. They’re bound to be buried at the festival. It’s inevitable anyway.
Charlie thought so and roughly shook his head.
“Let’s go too. The festival is about to start.”
At Charlie’s words, Rough Axe and Green Shoe moved their feet. The other dwarves who were whispering and watching around also headed to the square.
For this festival day, the dwarves prepare their best works. Countless hours and effort have been poured into these creations.
Of course, compared to the dwarves’ works, the creations of humans are bound to be laughed at.
‘I’ll mock and humiliate them to my heart’s content.’
Humans, pfft.
…The Empire, pfft.
And Charlie.
As soon as he arrived at the square, he saw something huge.
“Wh-what is this?”
“This is Kyle Byron’s, a human’s creation.”
“………….”
It was a tower.
Transparent glass metal formed a tower like a cylinder, and crudely finished weapons of dead days were piercing through the glass tower here and there.
A glass tower? With all sorts of materials at the festival, War’s Hammer could easily make it with a few glass panels.
But the dozens of different weapons piercing through that glass tower… and the layers formed by those piercing weapons…
On top of those layers, daggers with hooks on the ends of their handles were precariously stacked.
‘If you pull out the weapons forming the layers…’
Those daggers would surely come tumbling down.
In front of its size and grandeur, it was impossible not to be drawn to it more than the other works.
Charlie, who clenched his fist at the work that couldn’t be buried due to its sheer presence, looked at War’s Hammer.
“…What’s its name?”
“Huh?”
“If this thing is a work, it must have a name. I’m curious what you called it.”
After all, it’s just a pile of weapons. The shape of the stacked tower is quite elaborate and well-structured, but what does it even mean?
With that meaning in mind, he called it ‘this thing.’
He asked for the name with the intention of mocking, but War’s Hammer actually chuckled.
“Why… are you laughing?”
“The name of this is somewhat peculiar.”
“What?”
“Kyle Byron said this is one of the ‘board games’ he created.”
“Board… game?”
At the unfamiliar concept, Charlie’s pupils shook.
War’s Hammer, looking at the tower of weapons, continued.
“Tumbling Weapon… he called it.”
“Tumbling Weapon?”
“Would you like to give it a try?”
“What do you mean…?”
“Anyone can hold and use the works submitted to the festival. This work is no exception.”
Tumbling Weapon.
What could that name possibly mean?
Gradually, the dwarves participating in the festival naturally gathered in front of the tower of weapons, drawn by its presence.
In front of it, War’s Hammer added.
“Don’t underestimate this work, or rather, this board game, rookie.”
“………….”
“I also underestimated it and almost got so engrossed in the game that I was late for the festival.”
