“Did you come here to assassinate me by any chance?”
An unexpected remark. Aslan furrowed his brow at the words that came out of the noble’s mouth. Before he could even contemplate the statement, Ereta had already voiced her thoughts as if stealing them.
“Do people usually ask such things directly…?”
Ereta’s tone was icy, filled with reproach. The noble, upon hearing her cold voice, scratched his head as if acknowledging its truth.
The noble then chuckled awkwardly, appearing shameless, and asked:
“So… who are you?”
“I am Aslan, the representative of the Crown Tribe, here to resolve the dwarf issue.”
“Aslan… Veteran of battles…!”
“That’s one way to refer to me. However, it doesn’t seem like there’s much to resolve here.”
The conversation carried on in the dim mine shaft, brimming with confusion and bewilderment. The noble nodded as if agreeing with the sentiment, and Aslan, unable to bear looking at the noble any longer, questioned:
“What is your name, my lord? It seems appropriate to disclose it now without any issues…”
This question inadvertently carried a hint of reprimand, to which the noble responded with an “Ah” before saying:
“I am Dorel, Remul’s son. The son of the former chief, Remul, and the younger brother of Gobil, the current acting chief.”
“At least that’s what I believe.” Upon hearing this addition, Aslan seemed to grasp the situation while Dorel, with a grimy face, forced a smile.
“And regarding the dwarf problem… would you follow me? Seeing it directly will be faster than explaining.”
This gentle invitation carried no malice, nor did it provoke any reaction. Despite the skeptical glances from his companions, Aslan nodded.
“Let’s go.”
As Dorel subtly smiled and led the way, several figures disappeared into the dark mine shaft.
They advanced through the darkness, their way illuminated by the light they held in their hands. As they moved forward, the mine shaft gradually widened.
It widened so much that it opened up into a vast expanse, with a ceiling so high it couldn’t be seen even when looking up. The floor was solid, almost like stone, and the ceiling stretched endlessly upward.
Amidst this expansive landscape, buildings and the city itself slowly emerged from the darkness.
The grand or ornate structures appeared weathered over time, some collapsed or leaning, but they retained their basic forms.
These buildings, maintaining only their fundamental shapes, lined up endlessly, boasting an immeasurable expanse.
Unlike other cities found in Geladridion, this one stood out as unusually large.
Upon observing its distinctive style, the group drew in sharp breaths or heard tails tapping the ground.
“This underground city is massive. This is…,”
“It’s the ancient empire style. It resembles Belus Alphen.”
True to Ereta and Tiamat’s remarks, this colossal underground city reflected the ancient empire’s architecture.
A city that must have existed for thousands of years. Aslan observed this ancient city and noticed small figures moving between the gaps.
Those figures were dwarves.
Like the wild wizard standing beside Dorel, these dwarves were covered in fur and emerged from between the city’s structures.
“Hey, look, they’re coming!”
Angie exclaimed reflexively upon seeing the approaching dwarves, but they didn’t appear hostile.
Instead, the hairy dwarves surrounded Aslan’s group, revealing curiosity.
The snuffling sounds and barking noises indicated no trace of hostility, leading Aslan to confirm this fact.
While only the wild wizard among the dwarves understood human language, the lack of hostility was consistent across all the dwarves.
Considering how other regional dwarves blindly attacked as troublesome monsters, these dwarves were exceptionally unique.
Friendly monsters toward humans. While Aslan frowned, trying to figure out what was happening, Dorel, who had been silently observing, spoke up:
“There’s more to show you.”
With Dorel subtly guiding Aslan, despite having many lingering questions, Aslan followed without complaint. If there was more to see, then viewing and judging afterward would suffice.
Dorel led the group deeper into the city. The closer they got to the interior, the more damaged the buildings became, with some completely shattered.
Before Aslan could wonder why the internal damage was worse, the group encountered the cause.
“This is…,”
“A monster skeleton… right?”
It was indeed a skeleton.
The remains of a humanoid creature taller than Tiamat.
The skeleton emitted a white glow.
Contrary to Angie’s assertion that it belonged to a monster, there were no signs of monstrous deformities.
Parts of the skeleton shimmered with metallic luster, and it was riddled with holes resembling a honeycomb across its entire body.
As Aslan subconsciously picked up a bone fragment rolling on the ground, it gleamed with the distinct texture of metal and gave off a chilling sensation.
‘This isn’t bone.’
It was white steel.
White steel, said to be found only in Olpasbet’s underground ruins by the god of law and order.
White steel, formed from the crystallization of that deity’s bones.
And now, it stood before him in the shape of a skull.
This implied only one thing.
“A lesser divinity. One under the god of law and order.”
“You’re correct. They called it the god of honor.”
The god of honor. As Aslan organized his thoughts, the dwarves accompanying the group approached the skeleton.
Before anyone could stop or consider their sudden action, the dwarves either prostrated themselves or clasped their hands in front of the skeleton.
It was a prayer.
When the metallic skeleton softly emitted a faint light in response to the prayers, Aslan felt perplexed.
He recognized what the light signified.
Divine power.
As the divine-infused skeleton glowed white, Dorel turned away from the light with a subtle smile.
“To be precise, that’s actually its corpse.”
Only then did Aslan survey the surroundings and confirm his suspicion.
This wasn’t just any common colony or outpost of the ancient empire.
This was a city ruled by a lesser divinity.
The city governed by that lesser divinity, the divine skeleton, and the dwarves praying towards it.
As Aslan deduced the connections and let out a low murmur, Dorel added:
“You might find this surprising, but these dwarves aren’t mere monsters. They are creations of the god of law and order. After the god of honor, their last guardian, fell in battle, they deteriorated into this state.”
This additional information was unexpected.
Even Aslan didn’t know this. When Aslan subtly raised his gaze, Angie, who had been gently patting a praying dwarf on the head, asked:
“How do you know that?”
Angie’s question was valid. This was not something typically known. Even Aslan, who had experienced games, didn’t know about it.
In fact, Aslan didn’t even know such a city existed.
Given that Dorel possessed knowledge that shouldn’t be commonly known, Ereta instinctively reached for the double-axe behind her back.
As her vigilance heightened instantly, Dorel flailed his arms in apparent distress.
“Hold on, just wait a moment. There’s a way to verify everything. This city is littered with books about it. Diaries, historical records, and such!”
“Diaries?”
“Yes, diaries. Myself and my older brother discovered this city shortly before events unfolded and conducted investigations. We examined every book we could find nearby and within the city. Since they were written in the imperial language, there was no issue with the investigation.”
Seeing that the doubtful gazes hadn’t wavered, the noble added:
“It did take an excessive amount of time since the dwarves always ran away whenever we tried to meet them.”
Noticing the noble’s evasive tone, Angie looked at him skeptically. Her latent prejudice against nobles was subtly rising.
Since the rest of the group reacted similarly, Dorel floundered and glanced at Aslan, who alone remained expressionless.
Rather, Aslan appeared interested, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
“That makes sense. Since the common tongue is the imperial language…”
After calmly pondering, Aslan believed this statement was likely true.
Otherwise, there would be no plausible explanation.
The problem lay ahead.
If everything Dorel said was true and Gobil knew all of it, then what did Gobil want by sending Aslan here?
Aslan glanced at the dwarves, considering that until he personally confronted them and witnessed their flames, he had expected them to be aggressive.
He had anticipated combat and strategized accordingly.
To the world, dwarves were synonymous with monsters.
Even if peaceful, they were monsters that would fight fiercely if their territory was invaded.
That was generally the case.
Based on this bias, Aslan reconstructed his thoughts and guessed Gobil’s scheme.
Gobil wanted Aslan to eliminate the dwarves who killed his younger brother, thereby removing a competitor while securing this city.
But why secure this city? Aslan pondered, looking around again.
The completely ruined city seemed to hold no value. Though the iron deposits were immense, it seemed too much effort for just that.
Silent, Aslan’s companions glanced at him briefly, and Dorel nervously looked between the group and Aslan.
After a long period of quiet contemplation, Aslan realized where the unease originated.
“Dorel.”
“Yes?”
“Are you aware that the remains of the god of honor still retain divine power?”
“Yes? Ah, yes, I suspected as much. Otherwise, there’d be no way to explain the glowing…”
“Does your elder brother know this?”
“…Yes. But why…?”
Ignoring the question, Aslan thought.
He knows there’s divine power. He intentionally kept it hidden from Aslan. He didn’t mention anything about the city, the divine power, or the white steel.
Thinking about the benefits of keeping it secret, one name flashed in his mind.
The Triad of Evil Gods.
A deity of evil that recently lost divine power and needed replenishment.
An inevitability of the universe.
Though it might be an exaggeration, the instincts honed from slaying hundreds of priests told Aslan this was the correct conclusion.
While it couldn’t be confirmed yet, the possibility was strong. Since humans couldn’t use divine power, there was no reason to keep it hidden unless it was for this purpose.
By deliberately hiding something unnecessary to conceal, the likelihood of another intention increased significantly.
Aslan suspected Gobil had made a deal with an evil deity.
‘If he made a deal with an evil deity, simply going back wouldn’t make sense. There must be a plan.’
Aslan considered what Gobil had said and intended for him.
He probably wanted the dwarves cleared out and hoped his younger brother was dead.
That must have been part of the plan. Aslan spoke.
“…Earlier, you asked if I was an assassin.”
“Yes. Uh, something about that…”
“Was an assassin sent after me?”
“Yes, yes. The warriors my elder brother assigned as guards were assassins.”
“Did you kill them?”
“No, no! We didn’t kill them. With the help of the dwarves, we managed to capture them…”
Hearing this, Aslan nodded.
If there was a plan, dismantling it would suffice.
*
The artist had left. Gobil stared anxiously at the shield the artist had left behind.
After paying the remaining fee, the artist departed, leaving behind a green-scaled shield that gleamed brilliantly.
Clearly an exceptional item, Gobil sighed deeply as he stared at it for a long time.
Knock, knock.
“Come in.”
At the sound of knocking, he permitted entry, and a warrior rushed in.
“Gobil, Acting Chief, the warriors have returned!”
“Warriors?”
“The warriors sent to the mine shaft!”
“What?”
The warrior’s bewildered statement mirrored Gobil’s own confusion.
It was unexpected that the warriors would return.
No matter how well-armored the warriors were, they shouldn’t have survived encounters with the fire-wielding wild wizards.
Yet these warriors had gone into the mine shaft alongside Dorel to assassinate him.
Just as Gobil wondered if they had abandoned their mission and returned, the warrior continued speaking.
“Not just the warriors have returned. Dorel and the Crown Tribe’s representative have also come back together!”
Only then did Gobil widen his eyes in surprise.
The warriors returning was somewhat outside the planned scenario, but Dorel’s survival was entirely unplanned.
In fact, Dorel’s death was essential for the plan to succeed.
Gobil hastily grabbed his shield and one-handed sword and rushed out.
The warrior followed closely behind as they swiftly crossed the underground city toward the mine shaft.
Approaching quickly, they spotted the figures walking toward them from the direction of the mine shaft.
The warriors Gobil had sent to assassinate Dorel, Dorel himself, and the priest slaughterer along with his companions—all those who shouldn’t have been together were now walking side by side.
From this sight, Gobil understood that the assassination attempt had failed. The warriors’ weaponless appearance clearly indicated this.
Yet they had survived despite the failure, meaning the dwarves hadn’t acted. Gobil quickly wiped away the puzzled expression on his face as he approached them.
‘Could it be that beasts invading their territory didn’t harm humans? What…’
Hiding his confusion internally, Gobil approached as the warriors bit their lips and slightly bowed their heads. Gobil acknowledged this with a glance and walked toward Aslan, passing by his younger brother with a fake smile.
Even if the dwarves weren’t exterminated, one part of the plan had succeeded.
“Thank you for saving my brother. I’m incredibly grateful to have the chance to see my sibling again thanks to you.”
At this shameless statement, Aslan lightly nodded, and sensing unease from that nod, Gobil smiled again and spoke.
“By any chance, did you… handle the dwarves?”
At this question, Aslan remained silent for a moment before shaking his head. As Gobil’s expression hardened, Aslan looked at his shield and met Gobil’s eyes. His condescending gaze carried contempt.
Contempt and subtle anger.
Confused about the source of these emotions, Gobil barely suppressed a gasp rising from deep within.
Gobil currently held the priest’s shield.
In front of the priest slaughterer.
‘Does he recognize it?’
Swallowing his shock internally, Gobil watched as Aslan smoothly delivered the accusation.
“You lied.”
The chill in that voice froze Gobil momentarily, preventing any response. Then Aslan tilted his head slightly and continued.
“On behalf of the Crown Tribe, the Crown Tribe hereby withdraws its support for Gobil, son of Remul, and instead supports Dorel, son of Remul, as the new chief.”
Aslan’s cold voice struck Gobil, hardening his expression.
It was a clear signal of political conflict, the worst possible scenario for Gobil, who aimed to save more tribe members.
Just as he opened his mouth to defuse the situation, Aslan raised a hand to silence him and smiled.
A sly smile that exuded confidence.
Gobil hesitated, unsure of its meaning, as Aslan added,
“But I detest politics. Though I’ll offer my support, I won’t do anything. Please settle the matter of the chief among yourselves.”
This incomprehensible statement confused Gobil further as he glanced around; Dorel also wore a bewildered expression.
When Gobil redirected his gaze to Aslan, the latter erased his smile and spoke.
“If it takes too long, warriors might arrive unexpectedly.”
“You’re threatening me…!”
Clang!
Suddenly, a dagger appeared in Aslan’s hand, its blade pressing against Gobil’s throat, halting his words mid-sentence.
The dagger, resembling a feather or spearhead, gleamed with a sharp bronze hue, causing Gobil to unconsciously swallow hard.
The dagger slowly withdrew and transformed back into a cloak. Adjusting his feather cloak, Aslan chuckled lightly.
“We shall depart.”
Aslan prepared to leave, giving Dorel a slight nod.
“Work hard.”
Turning his back, Aslan left, and his group followed, heading toward the city’s exit. Watching them go, Dorel touched his own throat.
Though Aslan’s back was turned and his face unseen, Gobil’s urgency was evident to Aslan.
Everything had gone according to plan. Aslan smirked subtly, and Angie, noticing this, whispered softly.
“That young master sure knows how to lie. I really thought he was shocked.”
The distance was sufficient enough that this observation didn’t reach Gobil’s ears.
Unfortunately for him.
