Chapter 30

Chapter 30 - Dwarves (2)

 

The next day.

Surt went to the office again, just as he had before, and nearly leaped in shock at George’s words.

“What?! You mean he has another engagement today as well?!”

“Yes, well... that is how things turned out.”

One appointment after another.

And then another appointment after that.

For some reason, that 1st Prince simply never seemed to stay in his office.

“...For now, I understand. Please send word once the 1st Prince returns.”

“You may place your trust in me.”

“...”

He certainly spoke well.

Surt had no choice but to accept it reluctantly.

But in truth, they themselves were just as busy, with barely a moment to breathe.

“C-Chief!”

“What is it?”

As soon as he trudged back to the annex, he heard the voice of one of his clan members.

As expected, the contents were troublesome enough to make his head throb.

“They say scholars will be coming shortly to study our clan’s way of life!”

“Again?!”

“And after that, magicians are supposed to come immediately...”

“O-Oh, no...!”

Surt clutched his forehead and sighed.

Certainly, their treatment was better than when they had been confined to the clan’s village.

What could be wrong with receiving proper treatment as part of a kingdom? Surely it was better than living on in that cramped space because they could not die.

But one could enjoy such treatment only for a day or two.

For days already, they had been summoned again and again in the name of interacting with humans.

‘If only we could at least do work at a Forge, there would be fewer complaints...’

Even this situation, in which they enjoyed an astonishing degree of luxury, had gradually begun to feel bothersome and uncomfortable.

The more despairing fact was that this was not something they could stop simply because the clan did not want it.

“Do we have no choice but to wait for our home to be prepared as soon as possible...?”

If he had known this would happen, he would have decided the terms of the contract more carefully.

Surt tightly shut his eyes as he recalled the contract they had made in the village.

“Chief!”

That night, after the interactions ended and Surt returned to the annex, he avoided the gazes of the clan members waiting for him in the garden.

They were gazes fervently hoping that the matter of the Forge had been resolved.

As Surt had not received permission, nor even managed to say a single word about it, he could not bring himself to face them.

“I am sorry.”

“...”

The Dwarves, realizing what his behavior meant, sank to the ground.

At this point, even the benches in the garden had begun to look like workbenches.

...And one pair of eyes was watching those Dwarves.

“...That is the situation, they say. Even outwardly, the Dwarves’ dissatisfaction is considerable.”

“That foolish bastard.”

Count Valmons stroked his chin with a sneer.

To think he had gone to the trouble of obtaining the legendary beings known as Dwarves, only to leave them neglected in the annex.

Thanks to that, those beings were naturally blending into the kingdom, but if things continued like this, bringing them here would be worse than not bringing them at all.

“He is practically advertising for someone to win them over.”

The count’s smile gradually deepened.

In any case, it was a welcome development for them. They had prepared thoroughly, but Dwarves were still unknown beings, were they not?

They did not know when or how things might go awry, so it was not a bad thing if even the slightest possibility appeared.

“Then let us go. Bring what has been prepared.”

“Yes, understood.”

Thus, Count Valmons and his attendant headed toward the Western Annex with something in hand.

***

Surt narrowed his eyes at the person who had come to see him without notice.

“I am Count Gillian Valmons, serving His Grace Duke William.”

The noble who had come with some subordinate introduced himself as a count.

Behind that noble, the beer keg carried by the subordinate caught Surt’s eye. It seemed he had learned that the clan liked beer and had hurriedly procured it.

Surt reluctantly opened his mouth.

“I am Surt, chief of the clan.”

“...It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Count Valmons’s eyebrow twitched slightly at the tone, which sounded both rude and arrogant.

But there was no way the count could know that even that was something of an improvement.

“So, what is your reason for coming to the clan?”

“Ah, the truth is, I have just heard some news circulating inside the Royal Palace.”

“News?”

“I heard that you were having trouble because permission to use the Forge has not been granted.”

“...Hmm, that is true.”

When Surt showed his doubt, the count spoke.

Yet Surt himself continued with an uneasy expression.

“But what does that have to do with why you came?”

“To treat none other than the Dwarves in such a manner? How could that be acceptable?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Please take a look at this.”

The count took a document from inside his coat and handed it to Surt.

As Surt took it and examined it, Count Valmons’s eyes flashed.

“To add a brief explanation, this is a document valid not only in Esteban, but throughout the entire continent.”

“It seems to say that the ownership of a mine is being transferred. Am I correct?”

“That is correct.”

The document did indeed contain a sentence stating that ownership of the mine would be transferred.

But the recipient was the issue.

The one receiving the ownership was none other than Surt himself.

Seeing Surt fall silent, Count Valmons spoke triumphantly.

“His Grace, whom I serve, wishes to build a relationship with you Dwarves that goes beyond peaceful relations. This is merely a token of that.”

“...”

At those words, Surt recalled the contract he had made with the 1st Prince.

The land that would become their home.

The condition that they would be given three percent of whatever was mined from the mine there.

Surt checked the document once more.

...It definitely stated that the entire ownership of the mine would be transferred.

“What benefit do you gain by doing this?”

“Benefit?”

“You must have some intention in coming here out of the blue and handing this over, do you not?”

From the recipient’s perspective, it was an entirely natural thing to ask.

But Count Valmons only shook his head and wore a benevolent smile.

“Ha ha, please do not misunderstand. His Grace merely found it difficult to stand by and watch the foolish actions of certain nobles.”

“...”

“The nobles, including the 1st Prince, are trying to send you to a land with nothing in it. It is a place called the Galderd Plains, truly an empty land with nothing but soil and grass. But what kind of beings are Dwarves? Are you not masters of metallurgy, called the ‘Fairies of the Forge’?”

What would happen if such Dwarves went to the Galderd Plains?

That was what the count was saying.

“They continue to neglect you without even understanding your true worth. That is why the Royal Palace will not even permit you to use the Forge.”

“Then what would change if we received the mine?”

“We will give you ownership of both the mine and the surrounding land. That place, more than any other, will be the most suitable place for the Dwarves to display your abilities.”

“...I see.”

In conclusion, he was telling them to come to their land instead of the Galderd Plains.

Just listening to it, the conditions were astonishingly favorable for the Dwarves.

Naturally so; how could they possibly dislike being told to use their abilities however they wished?

Moreover, there was also the difference between three percent and the whole, so it was only natural to be surprised.

“Ah, of course, unlike them, we will also build you a Forge.”

“...”

“More importantly, how would you like to share a light drink while we talk? It happens to be a fine beer imported from the South, so I am sure it will suit your palate.”

“...Hmm.”

The count, who took the meaning of that silence as assent, ordered his subordinate to bring the beer keg.

Soon, he began pouring beer boldly into a huge mug, enough for foam to rise high.

Perhaps the beer keg had even been magically treated, for the beer in the mug gave off a chill so cold it seemed it might freeze at any moment.

The count handed over the mug with a smile, and as soon as Surt accepted it and took a drink, the count began to speak of this and that.

Then it happened.

“Do you know about the Fairy Race?”

“Pardon?”

At Surt’s abrupt question, the count expressed confusion.

But that lasted only a moment.

“Ha ha, do people not commonly call Dwarves the ‘Fairies of the Forge’? The fairies that appear in legends play the role of aiding heroes, so perhaps it carries, quite literally, a magnificent meaning...”

“That is not what I am asking.”

“...”

“Well, I thought you would not know.”

CLACK!

Surt set the mug of beer down on the desk.

Then he began to speak as though explaining.

“The reason Dwarves are called Fairies of the Forge is because the blood of the Fairy Race literally runs through us. The Fairy Race is the bloodline that became the origin of what you call Other Races.”

“...Ah.”

“And had you known that fact, you would not have committed such disrespect against me.”

“Yes...”

At that moment, Surt’s gaze turned cold.

A sudden unease flashed through the count’s mind, and Surt spoke in a low, sunken voice.

“In that short time, you have committed three discourtesies against us Dwarves.”

“W-what do you...”

“First.”

CRASH!

“...!”

The mug filled with beer shattered against the floor with a tremendous noise.

The subordinate and even the count were both left speechless at the sight.

In that silence, Surt’s voice rang out.

“Beer is something drunk solely to savor stillness. Therefore, to our clan, conversing while drinking beer is a grave insult. It is no different from saying that the conversation with the other party has that little meaning.”

“...”

“Second. You dared to spout nonsense about building our Forge for us, as though you were bestowing a favor.”

The Forge was the very embodiment of Dwarven pride.

Borrowing another’s Forge was possible, but saying that someone else would build their own Forge for them was the same as disregarding their spirit.

“And third.”

At last, Surt’s eyes filled with anger.

“You tempted me to break a sacred Fairy Contract.”

“W-what on earth are you talking about? I do not quite...”

“Yes, you would not know. But there is no need for you to know. From this moment on, you are a person who does not exist to our clan.”

“...!”

It was true that there had been a time when he had been seized by greed beyond his station, but that did not mean he was simply foolish.

After all, was he not the Dwarf Chief who had devoted himself to the clan?

Rather, at that time he had been in a mentally unstable state, whereas now, responsible for the clan’s safety in a foreign country, he was striving to remain calmer.

That was why he could tell.

The gaze the man before him directed at him was by no means friendly.

Long ago, the humans who had enslaved them had looked at them with those very same eyes.

The 1st Prince, by contrast, was not like that.

“I chose the man known as the 1st Prince not merely because he saved our clan.”

At the very least, he was a man whose words contained not the slightest falsehood.

Those words that he would never use them as slaves.

Those words that he would give them freedom along with proper compensation.

“Because I now believe that even if he causes us hardship, he will not lead us down the wrong path.”

Though Surt himself had once tried to take advantage of that point, now that he had entered into a Fairy Contract, he understood that truth more keenly than anyone.

“We will handle the affairs of our clan ourselves, so leave at once. Let us never meet again.”

“N-no, please, let us speak just once more...”

“I clearly told you to leave.”

“...”

Thus, after hearing words he could not understand, the count was driven out.

Such was the immense anger Surt had felt in that brief moment.