“Ever since I arrived in this sea, I’ve spent hundreds of years crafting what the Empire desired. Only direct imperial family members and the Master of the Magic Tower could come here, but what they wanted was always the same.”
“Weapons, armor, artifacts, you mean?”
“…Indeed. I only made those three things. Over and over and over. It was an endlessly repetitive task, enough to rust even me, once a blacksmith renowned among my race.”
“Is that why you couldn’t make anything else?”
“To be precise, it’s also what your Empire wanted. For the past few hundred years, they never wanted me to attempt making anything other than weapons, armor, and artifacts. They probably suspected I might use it to escape.”
“……..”
“Now, I can’t even remember how to make those trivial things. It’s laughable, really.”
The lament and resignation of an elderly dwarf, once the strongest of his race and a celebrated blacksmith.
It was as gloomy as warm tea turning cold.
But there was still something I couldn’t understand.
“If you think about it, aren’t weapons and artifacts even more dangerous?”
“It was a kind of compromise. The Empire feared the dwarves might use weapons to escape, but at the same time, they wanted the weapons we made. After the war, I was the only dwarf who stepped forward to craft what the Empire desired, promising not to use it against them. In return, we… were able to preserve our race.”
“You mean this underwater village?”
“At that time, more than ten races were wiped out. The entire continent was drenched in blood… In the end, humans and their Empire were the victors, and humans needed dwarves. That’s all.”
But hearing this, there’s no reason for the elderly dwarf to be called a traitor to his race.
If anything, isn’t he the savior who saved the remaining dwarves?
“I see the doubt in your eyes. You don’t understand why I’m called a traitor.”
“Ah, my apologies.”
“No need. I’ve been lonely without someone to talk to. To put it simply, it’s because I’m the only dwarf who survived the war.”
“……What do you mean?”
“I abandoned all my pride as a Great Warrior and blacksmith, and I prostrated myself before the Empire. That’s how I managed to let our race survive, even if it was under the sea. The other dwarfs were always grateful to me.”
“………..”
“But time flows equally. While I, the strongest, could live long, the other dwarfs went through generations. As generations passed… the original thoughts were forgotten.”
That’s why the current dwarfs vilify the elderly dwarf. They call him a traitor to the race, a disgrace.
They say he’s the criminal who bowed to humans and the Empire, burying the dwarfs under the sea.
Not just years, or decades.
Hundreds of years were more than enough to distort the dwarfs’ perceptions and thoughts.
Hundreds of years—comparable to the entire lifespan of a dynasty.
“Tell me, how is the Empire now? Still powerful?”
“…If I may dare to assess, yes.”
“Of course, just looking at your knight guard, I can guess. It’s been a while since I’ve seen an Archmage.”
“Huh?”
“Caught, huh.”
*Swoosh.*
Though there was clearly no one in the direction the elderly dwarf turned his head, Diogenes had already revealed himself, sitting on a chair.
With nothing special, Diogenes had erased his presence, yet the elderly dwarf saw through him instantly.
Considering even other Archmages struggled to detect Diogenes, it was an absurd feat.
“During the war, there were those who called themselves Archmages, and there were also proper Archmages… but it’s been a while since I’ve seen a mage like this.”
“I’ve never seen a warrior like this before. The Dwarf’s strongest Great Warrior, War’s Hammer.”
“…It’s been a long time since I’ve heard that name. It reminds me of my foolish days.”
The elderly dwarf, known as War’s Hammer, made a vague expression as if reminiscing about the past.
Then, he returned with his worn-out eyes.
“Originally, no matter who the opponent is, only one person can accompany. This is outside the rules, so I should tell you to leave immediately.”
“…………….”
“…Even in this state, I still have the pride of a warrior and the oath of a blacksmith. You humans may laugh at the cries of the defeated, but that’s all.”
“That won’t happen.”
“I say this because you actually laughed. The second one did it immediately. No, it was the second one before that… I’ve met too many of those so-called Princes.”
“………….”
“Anyway, I mean to send you off after making at least what you want. Have you decided what to make from what I just mentioned?”
“Hmm……….”
“You had many desires, so you’ll need to think about it. Well then.”
*Thud.*
He took out a hammer from his chest and struck a wall.
The house moved.
*Creak!! Clatter!! Clang!!*
The walls rotated, the floor rotated, the ceiling rotated.
All sorts of mechanical devices, gears, and steam-venting cylinders moved fiercely, transforming the peaceful interior of the house into a smelly workshop.
A furnace and bellows rose, a display case filled with various weapons appeared, and a box filled with metal ingots materialized.
After the unbelievable transformation ended, Sally, Diogenes, and I were in the middle of that workshop.
And the elderly dwarf, sitting in a chair at the end of a mechanical arm, moved through the air and looked down at us.
“This is my workshop.”
“…Did you make all of this, old man?”
“The Empire kindly took apart my old workshop and installed it here. But… now it’s just a pile of scrap metal that’s hard to maintain.”
“It doesn’t deserve to be called that.”
“Earlier, I said I only made weapons, armor, and artifacts, didn’t I? I couldn’t make anything else. The maintenance of this workshop is the same. I just have to watch it slowly rust away… my children.”
“………….”
“…I was lost in thought for a moment. Anyway, it’s true that this is the best workshop in the Dwarf Village. Surely, we can make it here.”
The elderly dwarf’s hand was trembling.
If it weren’t for my unexpected ‘request,’ he would have spent the rest of his life only making weapons, armor, and artifacts.
For the first time in hundreds of years, the elderly dwarf was about to make something other than those three.
“You clearly asked for a bell that even a Grandmaster couldn’t break, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s try making that first. Let’s make… let’s make it.”
The hand of the elderly dwarf, once called the greatest warrior and blacksmith of his race, trembled wildly.
Was it the trembling of finally making something else, or was it anxiety?
With an expression of not knowing himself, the elderly dwarf.
*Clang!!*
Started hammering.
*
And, the elderly dwarf.
Failed.
“…Ha, haha. Well, it was expected. It’s only natural. I’ve only made those things for hundreds of years.”
“………….”
“But, but… I really can’t even make such a trivial thing…?”
Next to the frustrated elderly dwarf was something that couldn’t even be called a bell.
At first, he clearly intended to make a bell. But halfway through, the elderly dwarf’s hands trembled like crazy and moved in a completely different way.
The frustration, the giving up, the resignation that had been piling up in him for hundreds of years.
It was gradually turning the bell into a ‘weapon.’
As if only that was possible for him.
It was becoming a habit, an instinct that even the elderly dwarf himself couldn’t control.
What was created in the end was not a bell, but a shield with a sharp edge.
“Hmm.”
Diogenes approached the shield, picked it up, and brought the sharp edge to a steel ingot. The hard ingot was effortlessly sliced apart.
The cutting power that could easily slice through steel, even though it wasn’t intentionally made as a weapon.
It was proof that the elderly dwarf’s craftsmanship was on a whole different level, separate from his failure to make a bell… but.
The elderly dwarf seemed too shocked by the failure.
Even though he understood it in his head, facing the failure directly was even more shocking.
“Was the ingot faulty? Did the machine rust? Or was it the hammer? No… it must be me.”
“Old man.”
“I’ve truly become a dog tamed by the Empire. I have no right to say anything to Charlie like this…”
The once confident and detached attitude was gone, and even his worn-out eyes sank deeper.
The elderly dwarf was plunged into endless frustration.
“…You saw it. Now I’m a blacksmith who can’t even make the trivial thing you want.”
“Is there really no way?”
“It’s not that there’s absolutely none… but practically, it’s as good as none.”
“What is the way? Shouldn’t we at least try?”
“The village you went to earlier, all the dwarves except me are gathered there.”
“……”
“If you go there, you’ll find a blacksmith who can make the trivial thing you want, unlike me. But it’s impossible. Haven’t you already experienced it? How much that village hates humans, hates the Empire.”
“That’s…”
“Just in case, I’ll say this: even if you bring that Archmage and try to force your way through, it’s useless. Even if you’re the Prince, the Empire won’t allow it.”
“……”
“If you value your life, just go back. Or change what you want into a weapon, armor, or artifact.”
When the elderly dwarf spoke like this.
Of course, there was only one choice for me.
“Sally.”
“Y, yes!”
“Diogenes.”
“I’m here.”
“Let’s go, to the village.”
“W, wait! What did you hear from me!? Are you really going to risk your life just to make something trivial like a bell? Outside, you might have been the Prince, but the dwarves in the village don’t care about that!”
“You called it trivial, right?”
“…Of course, it is.”
“To me, the weapons, armor, and artifacts you make are trivial. What good is it to destroy mountains and block magic? I’d rather play another round of board games than waste time on that.”
“Board, game?”
“Triviality is different for everyone. Please wait a moment.”
“……”
“Somehow, I will make what is anything but trivial to me.”
*
The village we returned to was exactly as it was before.
A fence hiding all sorts of weapons, a village that could become a fortress at any moment.
And even a dwarf in the watchtower.
“You’re back, human.”
“I’m back.”
“Didn’t spend too long chatting with the traitor, did you?”
“At least, he wasn’t someone you’d call a traitor.”
“Funny how the Empire, who pushed for that betrayal, says that. Come any closer, and I’ll shoot.”
*Click.*
Charlie, the dwarf who called his own beard brown, aimed his crossbow, and Sally, wide-eyed, drew a dagger and stood in front of me.
Having already seen her deflect a crossbow bolt once, the dwarf seemed wary of Sally.
“Aren’t you curious why I came back?”
“Not at all.”
“I have a request.”
“The traitor of the race is a skilled blacksmith. Go to him.”
“He couldn’t make what I wanted.”
“………What?”
“I want a bell. A bell that won’t dent even if the Grandmaster strikes it with full force.”
“……Are you insane? Did you come all the way here for that nonsense?”
“Nonsense? It’s very important to me. Anyway, if you make it, I’ll leave immediately.”
*Clank.*
“Stop the nonsense and get lost. I haven’t shot you yet out of respect for the traitor of the race.”
“Don’t lie. You still don’t know why the dozens of arrows you shot at our first meeting suddenly disappeared.”
“………….”
“Anyway, please accept my request. All I need is that ‘nonsense’ you mentioned.”
“……Indeed, you’re different from the Empire folks I’ve met before. Truly astonishing.”
“So?”
“Of course, it’s a no. Get lost.”
*Thud!*
As a warning, an arrow landed just slightly off target.
Charlie shouted at me with firm resolve.
“Don’t cross where that arrow landed. That’s your final warning.”
“………….”
“Come back a hundred, a thousand times, I won’t grant your request!!”
And so.
A week passed.
“Sally, this dish is delicious! Your skills have improved.”
“Heh, hehe……th, thank you.”
“The vegetable dish is tasty. Well done.”
“J, just a little. Y, you won’t have anything to eat, Young Master.”
“There’s plenty, what are you talking about?”
Right in front of the arrow Charlie called the last line, just barely not crossing it.
Me, Sally, and Diogenes enjoyed the lunchbox Sally brought, passing the time.
“………Crazy Empire folks.”
The dwarf in the watchtower, Charlie, finally realized something was wrong.
That he had……really been caught by some ridiculously stubborn people.
