Chapter 48
After traveling southeast on horseback for almost ten days from Bern, the travelers were greeted by a huge nameless mountain of stone.
Behind that impressive mountain of stone, with its sheer cliffs and precarious rock formations of various sizes, there was a small city that nestled snugly in its shadow.
Loverduke.
If one were to ask a passing poet for a one-line comment on that place, he would say with a disgruntled expression:
A sanctuary of dwarves that built their nest in a natural fortress.
How did that place become a city of dwarves? To that question, historians would say:
It was the starting point for the development of the city today, when the dwarves gathered one by one at the temple of Duerumur, located on the old mountain of stone.
In fact, that was just a matter of indifference to ordinary people.
Putting aside the natural fortress and the temple of Duerumur, the image of Loverduke that people had in mind was much simpler.
A huge workshop where eccentric craftsmen gathered.
Oh, and they would add one more thing. Spitting on the ground as if they were unlucky, they would say:
Those rude dwarf bastards.
***
At the entrance of the mountain of stone, a pair of cliffs faced each other. A bronze gate that crossed between them gleamed with the sunlight.
The gatekeeper, Gaspar, who guarded the bronze gate, squinted his eyes at the three horses that approached from afar.
They rode horses to approach the city of the short-legged ones?
Nine out of ten… no, a hundred out of a hundred. They were either humans or elves.
It was not a difficult elimination method. Dwarves could not ride such big horses because of their physique, unless they were donkeys.
Since the haughty elves would not bother to come here, they were probably human travelers, Gaspar thought.
He fiddled with the scythe he had slung over his shoulder, and slowly scanned the faces of the unwelcome guests who came down from their horses.
And he snorted.
…Dwarves?
With the help of a burly human, a dwarf barely got off his horse, leaned against the wall, and vomited a foul liquid from his mouth.
As if he was used to it, one of his companions who watched the dwarf empty his stomach walked toward the bronze gate.
He’s damn big, huh?
Even to Gaspar, who could not gauge the height of humans well, the other’s size was not ordinary.
“Stop.”
He was satisfied with the rather dignified voice that came from his throat, and continued.
“Do you know where you are?”
“Loverduke.”
The answer was brief.
Gaspar, who was in a bad mood, spat out the phlegm he had pulled up from his throat.
“You know well. Then, do you also know what you have to do to enter Loverduke as a non-dwarf race?”
The man who faced him shrugged his shoulders lightly and replied.
“Prove that you have enough qualifications?”
“…Right.”
“You’re still making it unnecessarily difficult.”
Gaspar was annoyed by the man’s tone, and deliberately sneered.
“Well, judging by your accent, you’ve visited Loverduke before… but since you can’t show a pass, you must have failed, right?”
The man nodded nonchalantly.
“I was low level then.”
Look at this?
Gaspar squinted his eyes at the man who answered with an incomprehensible word, after he had said something to make him feel bad.
With years of experience as a gatekeeper, he realized that the other was not pretending to be indifferent, but really didn’t care at all.
Usually, in such cases, there was an overwhelming confidence at the base.
Gaspar coughed briefly and said.
“Um, you look like a warrior for sure, but do you have anything to show? By the way, the last guy who passed had a monster wolf’s head hanging from his waist…”
He stopped there, realizing that his vision had suddenly opened up, and tapped the back of his head with his palm.
His helmet was gone.
“Huh? What? Where did it go?”
He turned his head around, and belatedly confirmed that the man had his helmet in his hand.
“When did you take my helmet? Are you… a mage?”
You hear all kinds of nonsense.
The man, Ruon, smiled incredulously.
“You’re exaggerating a bit, aren’t you?”
“Are you saying you’re not a mage? Then when did you take my helmet…”
“When you spat on the ground.”
“What?”
Gaspar blinked his eyes stupidly.
Whether he said it or not, Ruon clasped his helmet with both hands and pushed it hard.
Crunch-
“Uh?”
Gaspar’s jaw dropped as he watched the helmet start to crumple like a paper.
He threw the crushed helmet on the ground and Ruon said.
“It’s much stronger than I expected. Is it because it’s from Loverduke?”
“No, that…”
Gaspar, who was gaping with disbelief, stepped on the helmet that fell on the ground.
The hardness of the iron that was transmitted to his sole seemed to testify that the scene just now was not an illusion.
Then Ruon said.
“I’m not the type to proudly carry around the corpses of monsters I killed. I don’t know if this is enough proof.”
Gaspar slowly lifted his head and licked his trembling lips.
“…That’s enough.”
The next to step forward after Ruon, who showed off his strength by crushing the gatekeeper’s helmet with his bare hands, was Igor.
“Showing off your divine power to someone… ah, mother, forgive me.”
Then, a gentle light rose from his body, which had rings on his fingers, and softly settled on Gaspar’s body, who was still out of his mind.
Thanks to that, he managed to calm his startled heart and nodded slowly.
“You pass, too.”
The ambiguous one was Kyle. He hesitated and grabbed the shield behind his back and said.
“Gatekeeper, sir, do you know how to use magic?”
Then Strabo stepped forward.
“Let’s just go with this guy as my companion. Originally, a dwarf can enter with one person of another race, right? It hasn’t changed, has it?”
Gaspar tilted his head at his words.
“That’s a right that only applies to dwarves from Loberduk, their homeland. Are you from Loberduk?”
Strabo nodded silently, and Gaspar asked.
“Whose son are you?”
Strabo hesitated for a moment at the question, then slapped his cheeks with both hands, making a loud sound, and opened his mouth.
“Strabo, son of Garan. Strabo Bolund.”
Gaspar’s eyes widened like lanterns at the answer.
“What did you say?”
He screamed, sounding more surprised than when his helmet was dented.
Wasn’t he just an ordinary son of a house?
When Ruon tilted his head, Gaspar asked in a trembling voice.
“Where’s the proof?”
“Here.”
Strabo pulled out a silver ring that held the end of his braided beard and held it out.
The gatekeeper carefully took it and looked at the ring on his palm with a cautious expression, then hardened his face and said.
“…It’s the ring of the Bolund family.”
“Can I go now?”
Gaspar stepped aside and nodded.
“Go ahead.”
***
There was no space for a stable in Loberduk, so the party walked with their reins, following Strabo’s guidance.
Kyle whispered, looking at the dwarf who was walking ahead with his short legs moving tirelessly.
“The gatekeeper’s reaction was not good… What’s his identity?”
“We’ll find out soon.”
Ruon replied indifferently and turned his head.
As if to represent the cliché of fantasy that dwarves were skilled with their hands, the buildings on the street were all large and beautiful.
Ruon was looking at the wall with a splendid mural carved on it, when Kyle pulled his shoulder.
“Ruon, look at that Igor.”
He turned his head in the direction of his chin, and a huge statue came into view.
The giant with his hair and beard flaming like fire was swinging his hammer with all his might, a dynamic sight that made Ruon murmur without realizing it.
“…That’s cool.”
Igor said.
“That’s Duermyr. The god of the anvil and the flame.”
“Just looking at the statue, he seems like a person who doesn’t have a normal temperament, right? Don’t you think so, Ruon?”
Ruon nodded lightly and looked up at the statue.
The sculptor’s skill was so amazing that the eyes of the stone lump, which was nothing but a non-living thing, felt alive.
He suddenly remembered the words of the former priestess.
‘Those who look down on us with their mother and me have a great interest in your journey.’
Are you watching me too?
He asked inwardly, but there was no answer.
Instead, he heard a whisper he didn’t want to hear.
Kill your parents, kill your brothers, kill your comrades, and soak your body in their blood. What are you doing?
Ruon clenched his brow at the nonsense.
Shut up.
He pushed away the whisper that tickled his head and sighed lightly, looking at the holy sword hanging from his waist.
Even though he didn’t touch it, it was like this, so it was clear that the situation had worsened.
“…It’s a headache.”
Then Strabo said.
“Here we are. Friends.”
He stopped in front of a large forge where hot air was leaking out.
“Shit… I finally came.”
He muttered weakly, putting his hand on Strabo’s shoulder.
“Let’s go in.”
“Ruon, if something happens inside, don’t try to help me. I confess now, but I did something that deserves to die… no, to die.”
He said that and walked into the forge.
“Wait outside. I’ll keep an eye on the other two.”
At Ruon’s words, Nightmare nodded his head, making a sound, and turned his head as if to show off. Then the other two horses were startled and retreated to the corner.
He had taken the leader’s seat by then.
Ruon smirked and was about to enter the building when,
“Eek!”
Strabo flew out of the door with a scream.
He rolled around for a while and barely regained his balance, clutching his chest.
“Ah, father, calm down…”
His words were cut off by a loud voice.
“What? Calm down? I can’t even cool off if I kill you with dung water. Where do you think you’re crawling in!”
A white-haired dwarf came out of the door with a hammer in both hands.
He had a muscular body that didn’t match his wrinkled face, and especially his shoulders and arms that were exposed were no less than Ruon’s.
Kyle muttered, feeling intimidated by the glaring eyes of the dwarf.
“…Crazy, what’s going on here.”
Then, the dwarf kicked the ground and jumped up, swinging his hammer with full force.
Strabo quickly rolled on the ground to avoid the attack and shouted.
“Let’s talk first! This is not romantic!”
“Romance is a frozen romance!”
The dwarf shouted, twisting his upper body and swinging his hammer. He was so agile that he didn’t look his age.
Should I stop him?
Ruon hesitated for a moment, but decided not to.
He had heard something from Strabo before, and he didn’t want to get involved in someone else’s family affairs.
No one else seemed to think the same, as no one stepped forward.
Then there was a thud, a dull sound from Strabo’s shoulder. The dwarf who followed him relentlessly had finally succeeded in attacking. He sneered and shouted.
“You ran away from your glorious family business to become a decent druid, and that wasn’t enough… What? You ran away with the family treasure? Hey, you crazy bastard!”
Strabo, who wrapped his shoulder, opened his mouth urgently.
“That, I’ll apologize and live for the rest of my life, so please listen to me! My friend’s holy sword is broken and I need my father’s help!”
At his words, the dwarf who had raised his hammer high stopped his body.
“What did you say?”
Strabo quickly pointed to Ruon’s waist, thinking it was a chance.
“That sword!”
The dwarf’s head turned around at the desperate cry. He looked back and forth between Ruon’s face and the holy sword, then suddenly threw his hammer to the ground.
“This is a holy sword?”
He approached Ruon and looked up at him.
“Hey, can I touch your sword if you don’t mind?”
“That’s a bit difficult. It’s not a stubbornness, but if you touch it now, you’ll be in big trouble.”
The dwarf chuckled at his words.
“Why? Are you afraid I’ll be eaten by that sword? It’s no problem for a moment, so give it to me.”
He seemed to have seen through the state of the holy sword, and Ruon hesitated for a moment, then loosened the holy sword and handed it to him.
“10 seconds.”
“…You’re being picky. Okay. Let’s do that.”
As soon as he finished speaking, the dwarf snatched the holy sword.
His face hardened in an instant, and his body began to tremble.
Ruon quickly snatched the holy sword and pushed the dwarf’s forehead.
He fell down with a thud and came to his senses, then raised his middle finger at the holy sword Ruon was holding.
“Have you ever seen such a bastard? Kill your parents and do what? My parents passed away 50 years ago. You fucking bastard.”
Ruon reached out to the dwarf, who was cursing.
“What did I say?”
The dwarf grabbed his hand and got up, rubbing his shoulder.
“Hmm, I was a little greedy to see Egosode for a long time. I apologize.”
Ruon frowned at the unexpected words.
What, what sword?
Chapter 48
After traveling southeast on horseback for almost ten days from Bern, the travelers were greeted by a huge nameless mountain of stone.
Behind that impressive mountain of stone, with its sheer cliffs and precarious rock formations of various sizes, there was a small city that nestled snugly in its shadow.
Loverduke.
If one were to ask a passing poet for a one-line comment on that place, he would say with a disgruntled expression:
A sanctuary of dwarves that built their nest in a natural fortress.
How did that place become a city of dwarves? To that question, historians would say:
It was the starting point for the development of the city today, when the dwarves gathered one by one at the temple of Duerumur, located on the old mountain of stone.
In fact, that was just a matter of indifference to ordinary people.
Putting aside the natural fortress and the temple of Duerumur, the image of Loverduke that people had in mind was much simpler.
A huge workshop where eccentric craftsmen gathered.
Oh, and they would add one more thing. Spitting on the ground as if they were unlucky, they would say:
Those rude dwarf bastards.
***
At the entrance of the mountain of stone, a pair of cliffs faced each other. A bronze gate that crossed between them gleamed with the sunlight.
The gatekeeper, Gaspar, who guarded the bronze gate, squinted his eyes at the three horses that approached from afar.
They rode horses to approach the city of the short-legged ones?
Nine out of ten… no, a hundred out of a hundred. They were either humans or elves.
It was not a difficult elimination method. Dwarves could not ride such big horses because of their physique, unless they were donkeys.
Since the haughty elves would not bother to come here, they were probably human travelers, Gaspar thought.
He fiddled with the scythe he had slung over his shoulder, and slowly scanned the faces of the unwelcome guests who came down from their horses.
And he snorted.
…Dwarves?
With the help of a burly human, a dwarf barely got off his horse, leaned against the wall, and vomited a foul liquid from his mouth.
As if he was used to it, one of his companions who watched the dwarf empty his stomach walked toward the bronze gate.
He’s damn big, huh?
Even to Gaspar, who could not gauge the height of humans well, the other’s size was not ordinary.
“Stop.”
He was satisfied with the rather dignified voice that came from his throat, and continued.
“Do you know where you are?”
“Loverduke.”
The answer was brief.
Gaspar, who was in a bad mood, spat out the phlegm he had pulled up from his throat.
“You know well. Then, do you also know what you have to do to enter Loverduke as a non-dwarf race?”
The man who faced him shrugged his shoulders lightly and replied.
“Prove that you have enough qualifications?”
“…Right.”
“You’re still making it unnecessarily difficult.”
Gaspar was annoyed by the man’s tone, and deliberately sneered.
“Well, judging by your accent, you’ve visited Loverduke before… but since you can’t show a pass, you must have failed, right?”
The man nodded nonchalantly.
“I was low level then.”
Look at this?
Gaspar squinted his eyes at the man who answered with an incomprehensible word, after he had said something to make him feel bad.
With years of experience as a gatekeeper, he realized that the other was not pretending to be indifferent, but really didn’t care at all.
Usually, in such cases, there was an overwhelming confidence at the base.
Gaspar coughed briefly and said.
“Um, you look like a warrior for sure, but do you have anything to show? By the way, the last guy who passed had a monster wolf’s head hanging from his waist…”
He stopped there, realizing that his vision had suddenly opened up, and tapped the back of his head with his palm.
His helmet was gone.
“Huh? What? Where did it go?”
He turned his head around, and belatedly confirmed that the man had his helmet in his hand.
“When did you take my helmet? Are you… a mage?”
You hear all kinds of nonsense.
The man, Ruon, smiled incredulously.
“You’re exaggerating a bit, aren’t you?”
“Are you saying you’re not a mage? Then when did you take my helmet…”
“When you spat on the ground.”
“What?”
Gaspar blinked his eyes stupidly.
Whether he said it or not, Ruon clasped his helmet with both hands and pushed it hard.
Crunch-
“Uh?”
Gaspar’s jaw dropped as he watched the helmet start to crumple like a paper.
He threw the crushed helmet on the ground and Ruon said.
“It’s much stronger than I expected. Is it because it’s from Loverduke?”
“No, that…”
Gaspar, who was gaping with disbelief, stepped on the helmet that fell on the ground.
The hardness of the iron that was transmitted to his sole seemed to testify that the scene just now was not an illusion.
Then Ruon said.
“I’m not the type to proudly carry around the corpses of monsters I killed. I don’t know if this is enough proof.”
Gaspar slowly lifted his head and licked his trembling lips.
“…That’s enough.”
The next to step forward after Ruon, who showed off his strength by crushing the gatekeeper’s helmet with his bare hands, was Igor.
“Showing off your divine power to someone… ah, mother, forgive me.”
Then, a gentle light rose from his body, which had rings on his fingers, and softly settled on Gaspar’s body, who was still out of his mind.
Thanks to that, he managed to calm his startled heart and nodded slowly.
“You pass, too.”
The ambiguous one was Kyle. He hesitated and grabbed the shield behind his back and said.
“Gatekeeper, sir, do you know how to use magic?”
Then Strabo stepped forward.
“Let’s just go with this guy as my companion. Originally, a dwarf can enter with one person of another race, right? It hasn’t changed, has it?”
Gaspar tilted his head at his words.
“That’s a right that only applies to dwarves from Loberduk, their homeland. Are you from Loberduk?”
Strabo nodded silently, and Gaspar asked.
“Whose son are you?”
Strabo hesitated for a moment at the question, then slapped his cheeks with both hands, making a loud sound, and opened his mouth.
“Strabo, son of Garan. Strabo Bolund.”
Gaspar’s eyes widened like lanterns at the answer.
“What did you say?”
He screamed, sounding more surprised than when his helmet was dented.
Wasn’t he just an ordinary son of a house?
When Ruon tilted his head, Gaspar asked in a trembling voice.
“Where’s the proof?”
“Here.”
Strabo pulled out a silver ring that held the end of his braided beard and held it out.
The gatekeeper carefully took it and looked at the ring on his palm with a cautious expression, then hardened his face and said.
“…It’s the ring of the Bolund family.”
“Can I go now?”
Gaspar stepped aside and nodded.
“Go ahead.”
***
There was no space for a stable in Loberduk, so the party walked with their reins, following Strabo’s guidance.
Kyle whispered, looking at the dwarf who was walking ahead with his short legs moving tirelessly.
“The gatekeeper’s reaction was not good… What’s his identity?”
“We’ll find out soon.”
Ruon replied indifferently and turned his head.
As if to represent the cliché of fantasy that dwarves were skilled with their hands, the buildings on the street were all large and beautiful.
Ruon was looking at the wall with a splendid mural carved on it, when Kyle pulled his shoulder.
“Ruon, look at that Igor.”
He turned his head in the direction of his chin, and a huge statue came into view.
The giant with his hair and beard flaming like fire was swinging his hammer with all his might, a dynamic sight that made Ruon murmur without realizing it.
“…That’s cool.”
Igor said.
“That’s Duermyr. The god of the anvil and the flame.”
“Just looking at the statue, he seems like a person who doesn’t have a normal temperament, right? Don’t you think so, Ruon?”
Ruon nodded lightly and looked up at the statue.
The sculptor’s skill was so amazing that the eyes of the stone lump, which was nothing but a non-living thing, felt alive.
He suddenly remembered the words of the former priestess.
‘Those who look down on us with their mother and me have a great interest in your journey.’
Are you watching me too?
He asked inwardly, but there was no answer.
Instead, he heard a whisper he didn’t want to hear.
Kill your parents, kill your brothers, kill your comrades, and soak your body in their blood. What are you doing?
Ruon clenched his brow at the nonsense.
Shut up.
He pushed away the whisper that tickled his head and sighed lightly, looking at the holy sword hanging from his waist.
Even though he didn’t touch it, it was like this, so it was clear that the situation had worsened.
“…It’s a headache.”
Then Strabo said.
“Here we are. Friends.”
He stopped in front of a large forge where hot air was leaking out.
“Shit… I finally came.”
He muttered weakly, putting his hand on Strabo’s shoulder.
“Let’s go in.”
“Ruon, if something happens inside, don’t try to help me. I confess now, but I did something that deserves to die… no, to die.”
He said that and walked into the forge.
“Wait outside. I’ll keep an eye on the other two.”
At Ruon’s words, Nightmare nodded his head, making a sound, and turned his head as if to show off. Then the other two horses were startled and retreated to the corner.
He had taken the leader’s seat by then.
Ruon smirked and was about to enter the building when,
“Eek!”
Strabo flew out of the door with a scream.
He rolled around for a while and barely regained his balance, clutching his chest.
“Ah, father, calm down…”
His words were cut off by a loud voice.
“What? Calm down? I can’t even cool off if I kill you with dung water. Where do you think you’re crawling in!”
A white-haired dwarf came out of the door with a hammer in both hands.
He had a muscular body that didn’t match his wrinkled face, and especially his shoulders and arms that were exposed were no less than Ruon’s.
Kyle muttered, feeling intimidated by the glaring eyes of the dwarf.
“…Crazy, what’s going on here.”
Then, the dwarf kicked the ground and jumped up, swinging his hammer with full force.
Strabo quickly rolled on the ground to avoid the attack and shouted.
“Let’s talk first! This is not romantic!”
“Romance is a frozen romance!”
The dwarf shouted, twisting his upper body and swinging his hammer. He was so agile that he didn’t look his age.
Should I stop him?
Ruon hesitated for a moment, but decided not to.
He had heard something from Strabo before, and he didn’t want to get involved in someone else’s family affairs.
No one else seemed to think the same, as no one stepped forward.
Then there was a thud, a dull sound from Strabo’s shoulder. The dwarf who followed him relentlessly had finally succeeded in attacking. He sneered and shouted.
“You ran away from your glorious family business to become a decent druid, and that wasn’t enough… What? You ran away with the family treasure? Hey, you crazy bastard!”
Strabo, who wrapped his shoulder, opened his mouth urgently.
“That, I’ll apologize and live for the rest of my life, so please listen to me! My friend’s holy sword is broken and I need my father’s help!”
At his words, the dwarf who had raised his hammer high stopped his body.
“What did you say?”
Strabo quickly pointed to Ruon’s waist, thinking it was a chance.
“That sword!”
The dwarf’s head turned around at the desperate cry. He looked back and forth between Ruon’s face and the holy sword, then suddenly threw his hammer to the ground.
“This is a holy sword?”
He approached Ruon and looked up at him.
“Hey, can I touch your sword if you don’t mind?”
“That’s a bit difficult. It’s not a stubbornness, but if you touch it now, you’ll be in big trouble.”
The dwarf chuckled at his words.
“Why? Are you afraid I’ll be eaten by that sword? It’s no problem for a moment, so give it to me.”
He seemed to have seen through the state of the holy sword, and Ruon hesitated for a moment, then loosened the holy sword and handed it to him.
“10 seconds.”
“…You’re being picky. Okay. Let’s do that.”
As soon as he finished speaking, the dwarf snatched the holy sword.
His face hardened in an instant, and his body began to tremble.
Ruon quickly snatched the holy sword and pushed the dwarf’s forehead.
He fell down with a thud and came to his senses, then raised his middle finger at the holy sword Ruon was holding.
“Have you ever seen such a bastard? Kill your parents and do what? My parents passed away 50 years ago. You fucking bastard.”
Ruon reached out to the dwarf, who was cursing.
“What did I say?”
The dwarf grabbed his hand and got up, rubbing his shoulder.
“Hmm, I was a little greedy to see Egosode for a long time. I apologize.”
Ruon frowned at the unexpected words.
What, what sword?
