Chapter 255 - What Does a Dwarf See?

"So, what brings you here?"

The dwarf ignored the barbarian, and Rem let it pass without throwing a fit. Encrid had sensed it from the moment he heard the threat: the words were vicious, but Rem hadn't meant them. He also chose that moment to step into the conversation. "If you have a good sword already made, I'd like to buy it."

Encrid didn't beat around the bush. Frankly, he was finding her rather interesting.

Could she fight? It didn't look like it. That was his overall assessment of her stance, hand movements, positioning, and behavior. "Shall we see?"

The dwarf offered no resistance. She simply looked Encrid up and down. Dwarves were known to pay no attention to human looks, yet her gaze lingered on his face. Watching from behind, Krais thought, 'Surely not her too?'

She hadn't fallen for the Captain, had she? A faint uneasiness crept over him. As everyone knew, dwarves didn't care whether a human was beautiful or ugly. Instead, they were said to see the refinement within. They judged a person's inner self by their eyes, bearing, habits, and the like. Free of preconceptions about appearances, they had fewer prejudices too. Having wandered the continent for many years, this dwarf knew how to read a person's disposition from the way they opened their eyes and spoke. It wasn't quite a spell, but her dwarven abilities combined with experience allowed her to glimpse part of Encrid's inner self.

It was truly vast, whole, and beautiful. Metallurgy meant extracting and refining metal from ore. Smithing was the art of heating metal and hammering it into tools. Hers was an eye developed through long years of working stone and iron, crafting and smelting all manner of things.

To her, Encrid was a stone.

But no ordinary stone. Absolutely not. 'What is this?'

A stone that never broke, however much it was chipped away at, that neither aged nor crumbled. A human she couldn't understand, an ore unlike any she had seen before. She could only marvel.

That was also what moved her. Mystery, first encounters, something new: such things were bound to spark a dwarf's interest. "Hey, I won't kill you, so fix up my axe."

The insolent barbarian beside him spoke as well. With a swagger, he thrust out an axe imbued with something.

Hadn't this bastard just threatened to kill her?

She judged that he hadn't meant it. A dwarf's particular insight made it easy to tell truth from falsehood. That was why she thought him strange. He hadn't meant it, yet she could sense he might swing that axe if something rubbed him the wrong way. The dwarf's eyes swept over him too.

'What's with this one?'

He looked like a stone that burned of its own accord. A dawn that incinerated everything around it. To stand beside him without burning, one had to be equally hard—or someone had to withstand and block those flames.

Who was blocking them?

There was no need to ask.

The stone that neither burned nor crumbled. The black-haired stone with those blue eyes. The dwarf's gaze swept over them all. Every human beside him was equally strange.

One looked like truesilver filled with divine power, hammered and shaped for tens of thousands of hours. Another was dark iron, forged and reforged into a single keen blade. There was even gray gold, said to be barely glimpsed after burning tens of thousands of stones.

Ash gold—a precious metal she herself had only ever caught a glimpse of. No, truesilver, dark iron, and ash gold were all extraordinarily rare metals.

These images came to her at first sight? What were these people? A dwarf's gaze did not waver. Their resolve was firm and solid; nothing flustered them. They even had an immunity that kept all but the strongest mental magic from beguiling them.

She looked over each face. The strangest of them was the plain stone. A stone that could be chipped but would not crumble, that could grow old but would not break.

That stone blocked the flames, sheltered the truesilver, pushed back the darkness of the dark iron, and embraced even the ash gold. She saw them standing there, each displaying their own distinct character.

It was endlessly fascinating. Her curiosity stirred, and she asked, "What's your name?"

Encrid thought she must be far older than he had guessed. There was something in her manner of speaking.

"Encrid."

"Good. Let me see your hands."

He obediently held them out, and she carefully examined his calluses, finger joints, and more. "Quite a jumble."

She wasn't wrong, Encrid thought. That described the arts he had learned. He had crammed every technique he could learn into his body: sensory arts, the heart of the beast, the Heart of the Superhuman, the Isolation Technique, and swordsmanship derived from the Oniak Sword Technique.

Come to think of it, he had sampled a little of every kind of swordsmanship. Lately, he had been absorbed in the Flowing Sword and physical conditioning. Even setting aside his acquisition of Will, he had learned that many techniques already. "Yes, good. I happen to have a decent sword. I'll make a few adjustments and give it to you. And you wanted what? Looks like your axe just needs its handle and balance fixed. Why are you lugging that thing around? Good iron. I'll melt it down and remake it. Ah, hmm, you don't look like you need anything. And of the rest, ah, yes, you. Ash-gray. What do you need?" Were dwarves normally so talkative? Still, beneath all those words lay a glimpse of their distinctive insight. Where Frogs read talent, dwarves excelled at insight. At a glance, she had seen everything the party needed.

Her nickname for Ragna was odd, but she was a dwarf. No one made anything of it. "A long, thick sword with proper balance."

Ragna said his piece regardless of what the dwarf called him. His purpose was clear, so he didn't care. He had been the same when that Black Blade Bandits fellow came. It had nothing to do with him, so he ignored it.

Jaxon had acted instead. Rem had been his usual self, while Audin had merely smiled amiably. The dwarf nodded.

"Understood."

And so she agreed to work on Encrid's sword and the fire axe, as well as melt down and reforge the centaur leader's glaive. She would even personally provide a sword for Ragna.

Encrid had heard dwarves were difficult craftsmen, but she was nothing of the sort. Rumors really couldn't be trusted. "Huh? You said even one dagger would be wasted on me."

Krais spoke from behind them.

"Well, you're just too far below standard. Giving you something I made would feel like a waste. Just grab any old thing those humans made over theeere and strap it on."

"Wow. Playing favorites."

Krais muttered, looking genuinely hurt. He'd never had any particular attachment to weapons. Why was he suddenly after a dagger? "Want me to buy you one?" Encrid asked.

"No. It's fine."

Then why was he so hung up on it?

"It's been ages since I got rejected."

"Rejected?"

"I'll tell you later."

The dwarf snickered at Krais's words. Her expression seemed to say, What a cute fellow. "But you'll have to wait about a week for all this. Might be quicker," the dwarf said.

Encrid surveyed the smithy. Everyone who had been hammering metal had stopped to watch them cautiously. Two craftsmen, metalwork lined along one wall, and a furnace whose flames drove back the cold. He hadn't been there long, but the heat was already enough to make him sweat. "Give them a few silver coins, at least. We should pay for using their smithy."

At the dwarf's further instruction, Krais handed over several silver coins. Encrid watched, then added a few more. They were accommodating him, after all. There was no set amount for that. He never pinched pennies over such things.

Krais let it pass too. With the Krona the Captain had earned on this trip, money wouldn't be tight for quite a while. Not that it had been tight before. The man who appeared to own the smithy watched hesitantly, then nodded.

"Use it as much as you like."

"And for my fee—you, Big-eyes. Give me that pouch of gems tucked inside your clothes."

The dwarf displayed her insight again by guessing Krais's nickname outright. "You want this?"

Unable to leave the precious gems behind, Krais had been carrying some inside his clothes.

"Yeah. Hey, I'm giving you a bargain."

The dwarf's tone was coarse. Her manner of speaking jumped all over the place, another apparent hint at her age.

"Give it to her."

At Encrid's words, Krais pulled a mournful face, then nodded. But as he handed over the pouch, he stopped. "How did you know I had this, though?"

"What do you take a dwarf's nose for? You reek of expensive stones."

Could dwarves smell things like that too? It was none of his concern. Encrid let it pass. So they would be staying here for roughly another week. They returned to the market. The smithy's heat had warmed them enough to keep the cold at bay for a while. When the chilly air began biting into them again, Rem was still smiling.

"I've decided I love this stone."

That was thanks to the warming stone tucked inside his clothes. Well, he did hate the cold. Ragna walked silently, without even looking around.

"You need a good sword? All of a sudden?"

Encrid asked out of sudden curiosity.

"Yes. I need one."

He wondered why, but didn't ask that question.

Of course, it was because of Encrid. What had that night of inspiration left them with? Motivation and a desire to grow. The joy arrived before the achievement, because they knew they could reach what they had yet to attain. Ragna enjoyed that too. These were feelings and experiences he had never had before.

Once, knowing he would succeed had made things boring. Now it was the opposite. That was why he needed a good sword, one suited to his hands and body. He thought a dwarf's craftsmanship might provide just that. They continued browsing the market. Smaller than Border Guard's, it was still fairly bustling. This territory was becoming a trade link to the east.

Krais stopped to speak with several merchants along the way. Some spoke to him familiarly; when had he gotten to know them? Among the passersby were people who recognized Encrid and gave him military salutes. They were soldiers who had seen him wield his sword and pursue the centaur leader. There were quite a few soldiers on patrol, apparently keeping close watch on internal security in groups of three or four. They bought and ate some white bread, and bread studded with raisins as well. While they were making their way around the market, a young-faced woman blocked their path.

"They said I just had to deliver a message. J-just deliver it."

She was so nervous that her hands trembled. "What message?"

Krais asked gently, as if trying to put her at ease.

"That Black Blade won't let this go."

Her anxious eyes swept over them. By the time she finished speaking, even her legs were shaking. Her terror was plain to see. "It's all right. You're all right."

Krais soothed her and asked a few questions. Someone had approached her, tossed her two silver coins, and sent her on this errand. Her younger sibling was sick, and she desperately needed the money.

He even asked her name, then pressed another three silver coins into her hand. There was a time to save Krona, and a time to spend them.

"If anything happens around here later, I'd appreciate it if you'd let me know." After reassuring her with his characteristic smile and sending her away, Krais sighed. He glanced into the alley where she had vanished.

"They don't look ready to give up. Shouldn't we do something about this?"

Encrid answered his question without so much as pausing for breath.

"Think of something."

"... Sorry?"

"I don't know what to do, so think of something." Encrid said it as if it were perfectly natural. In some respects, Krais felt, the Captain had definitely changed. Had he always been so good at putting people to work? Krais was sure it used to sound more like a request.

His attitude had changed. As the person responsible for the unit, this was the right approach. "If they come at us, we split all their heads open."

"They'll only send some paltry assassins."

"I ask you, God of War: may I send these malcontents to your side?"

"I am Teresa the Wanderer. I'll cut down any bandit."

Rem, Jaxon, Audin, and Teresa spoke in that order. Encrid turned his gaze to Dunbachel.

"What's this debt?"

"I borrowed about fifteen gold coins at the end and spent them."

"Why?" Krais asked curiously.

"To have fun." Fifteen gold coins on fun? Had she hired male prostitutes in the capital? And drunk a mountain of expensive liquor? No, she must have eaten lavish meals too.

"All of it?"

"Oh, I spent about two coins and gave the rest away."

"To who?"

Her way of spending Krona made Krais drop the politeness, but Dunbachel didn't care. For a Beastman, manners amounted to little more than not stealing the other person's meat. "Kids I passed on the street, monasteries that raise children. Places like that."

She really had spent the borrowed gold however she pleased. Dunbachel had expected to die anyway, so she had simply followed her heart. Admittedly, the abandoned children had reminded her of her own circumstances and stirred her sympathy, but she didn't explain all that. Krais was simply dumbfounded.

"You borrowed gold from bandits and thought they'd just let it slide?"

Was she crazy? She had borrowed fifteen gold coins and done what? One wrong move, and she could have lost her head first.

"Well, no, um. You've got a point."

This woman wasn't normal either. After that, Encrid's party headed toward the market. The atmosphere here was subtly different from Border Guard, in both the goods and the people.

Several gazes came to rest on Encrid. The party's appearances and distinctive features stood out wherever they went. It would have been stranger if they hadn't drawn attention.

But none of them cared about the stares of merchants, patrolling soldiers, itinerant peddlers, or the handful of thugs who had the same air as the fellow they had beaten earlier. "Isn't that fur?"

Each of them cared only about whatever caught their own eye. Rem's gaze lingered on the furs, and Encrid's on the leather trousers a peddler had spread on the ground.

Audin bought a small wooden figurine from a child carver. It appeared to depict a rabbit. The fact that one couldn't confidently call it a rabbit meant the craftsmanship wasn't particularly good. As they browsed and walked on, three of the thugs approached. Were they about to pull the same stunt as that earlier moron?

Krais's eyes lit with interest. He wondered what these fearless idiots would do. But things didn't go as he expected. In one swift motion, a thug prostrated himself on the road before Encrid. It was a strikingly bold gesture, utterly heedless of the filth getting on his clothes.

"That man wasn't one of us! Who knows where he crawled out of, but he'd been freeloading around the territory for about half a year. Said his name was Bento." Encrid gave him a look that asked, Who? The thug explained. He meant the fellow who had come at them in the tavern earlier.

"Hans didn't know a thing, uh, so if you'd forgive him, yes, yes. I'll teach him a lesson on your behalf, Sir Knight."

His speech was disjointed, but he seemed loyal enough. Encrid nodded. Hans seemed to be the man who had attacked him under the influence of drugs and hypnosis.

"Do as you see fit. And not yet."

"... Huh?"

Encrid spoke as he passed him, finally heading toward the leather trousers that had caught his fancy. Rem picked up a fur as well.

"Big-eyes, pay a few gold coins over here!"

"Don't buy things without haggling!"

Krais shouted and ran over. Audin watched him for a moment, then addressed the thugs' leader.

"He means he isn't a knight yet, Brother Hoodlum." As he spoke, a bear-like hand patted the thug's right shoulder. Teresa patted the other one.

"Try anything stupid and you'll die."

A brief warning. How threatening words sounded depended on who spoke them, and to the thug, Teresa looked like someone who could kill him by simply plucking off his head. While Krais haggled and the others bought what they wanted, Ragna said he would head back first. Encrid told him to stay put; finding him again would be a nuisance. Rem added a comment, sparking a noisy quarrel with Ragna.

Dunbachel asked for trousers like Encrid's. When the merchant said there wasn't an identical pair, she bought the closest thing available. Naturally, Krais haggled over everything, ensuring they paid a fair price. After thoroughly stirring up the market, they returned to find a balding man standing outside their quarters.