Chapter 12 - The Dwarf Princess

“Now, think about it. The heroes open the door, fully confident that weak demonic creatures await them. But what if they find something other than demonic creatures and a maze?”

“If they find dwarves, we will be a laughingstock. Is it ridicule you want, rather than demonic energy?”

“Mention ridicule in my presence, Gordon, and I might take your head off—even yours.”

“...”

Gordon shut his mouth at the sudden burst of killing intent.

“Let me explain again. I don't mean the dwarves themselves. I mean the devices they make. What if enormous ballistae fire bolts, logs and mechanisms spring into action, and massive cannons loaded with explosives belch fire in their midst?”

“Uh...”

That sounded fairly promising.

“Not fairly promising. It will definitely work.”

Arain's heroes had already studied The Demon King's Guide and worked out how to defeat it. They had a corresponding Hero's Guide, and using dwarves was an ingenious way to catch them off guard.

“Heroes have deeply entrenched assumptions.”

Weak demonic creatures inhabited the first floor, with stronger creatures and demons appearing the higher one climbed.

“To them, that is the absolute truth.”

Because Demon Kings had upheld the Guide as absolute truth themselves. It was no different from hundreds of years of indoctrination.

“But what if, instead, everything the dwarves have poured their hearts into comes raining down on them at once, like a bombardment? What if it isn't even powered by mana?”

“That could certainly...”

It could work.

Against demons, he could have said no. But humans were different.

Even a hero strong enough to face a Demon King was still human. Pierce their abdomen and rupture their organs, and they would die. A minor wound to a demon was a serious injury to a human.

An utterly unexpected attack, at an utterly unexpected moment, could wipe them all out—or at least inflict mortal wounds.

“Then I'll take that as your agreement.”

Gordon, who had been blankly imagining the scene, hurriedly shook his head.

“Even so, that doesn't conform to the Guide...”

The Demon King was already gone.

* * *

The dimension of Arain clearly belonged to humans.

Numerous other races lived there, but over seventy percent of its land had fallen into human hands. More than twenty percent remained unexplored, leaving less than ten percent for the other races to inhabit. Even that tiny territory was divided among them.

As a result, finding the other races required venturing quite far into the wilderness. Humans had taken all the good places.

Among those races, dwarves, with their exceptional metallurgy, were famous for building underground homes in ore-rich mountains.

Berge stood at the entrance to their underground city, his face concealed beneath a thick hood. Crossbows pointed at him.

“Halt. Who are you, and where are you from?”

“I'm a mercenary from the Fulan area.”

He presented the mercenary badge he had obtained from the Red Hawk Mercenary Company.

“Human?”

“Yes.”

“Your business?”

He held out a chipped sword he had picked up along the way.

“Cheap weapon you've got there.”

“Don't cause trouble.”

RATTLE

Once he stepped inside, a massive apparatus descended vertically. A faint aura of mana carried Berge underground.

'This is a first.'

Before his return to the past, he had killed countless dwarves, but he had never personally visited one of their cities.

'Whenever a hero had a decent weapon, it was always those stunted bastards' handiwork.'

That was why he had sent demonic creatures to massacre more than a few of their cities.

The vast wealth and spoils had been a bonus, but back then, he hadn't understood the importance of money. He had pursued only strength, demonic energy, and the Guide.

'I was an idiot.'

That money would have bought an entire kingdom, with plenty left over.

The doors opened onto a long avenue. Buildings stood in orderly rows along the road.

Unlike the haphazard cities of humans, this was a planned city. There was something rigid yet intricate about it.

CLANG, CLANG, CLANG

Gentle warmth rose from the earth. Hammering sounded in the distance, and black smoke streamed toward the ceiling. Short, squat dwarves bustled among it all.

Berge first entered a nearby inn.

“A human...?”

He endured the short innkeeper's suspicious gaze and the outrageous rip-off of five damn silver coins for a single night.

“Five coins for just one night?”

“Take it or leave it. But you won't find an innkeeper who'll let a human stay for less.”

“The peace treaty was signed ages ago.”

“A treaty doesn't erase the past.”

Well, that wasn't Berge's concern.

“Tell me who the finest craftsman in this city is, and I'll give you another coin.”

“Are you a hero here to repair your equipment?”

“There's no law saying only heroes can have their equipment repaired.”

“Two coins.”

“Copper?”

“Silver, obviously.”

“I heard dwarves love money every bit as much as heroes.”

“Because humans love money.”

Berge placed seven silver coins on the table.

“Logger Fridri. Walk one kilometer along the eastern avenue from the central square, and you'll find his place on the right. But you won't get what you want even if you go. He's booked solid. He has no time to waste on some ordinary mercenary's job.”

“You had the nerve to sell me that information?”

“All you asked was for me to name an outstanding craftsman.”

The dwarf shrugged and handed him a key.

“Third floor, room 303.”

“Will he at least be there if I go now?”

“He rarely leaves his workshop, so he should be. Though he stays inside so much, I don't know if you'll actually get to meet him.”

“Thanks.”

First, he went up to the third floor. The room was shabby, containing only a small table and an old bed.

But that hardly mattered. He opened the window and climbed outside. Concealing his face more securely with his robe, he headed for the workshop.

Five enormous chimneys billowing black smoke came into view. Despite the innkeeper's words, there was no long line.

Instead, there were armed soldiers—several dozen at least. He couldn't tell whether the supposedly brilliant craftsman had hired them himself or whether the city's rulers, who valued him so highly, had assigned them. But one thing was certain.

His skill.

The innkeeper hadn't lied about that, at least.

'Well, dwarves are known for giving you exactly your money's worth.'

Another difference from humans, who were greedier yet failed to deliver what one paid for.

Berge slipped into the workshop, avoiding the dwarves' eyes.

CLANG, CLANG, CLANG, CLANG

The hammering, barely audible outside, thundered through the entire building. The heat was incomparable to what he had felt before.

Below, he could see bare-chested dwarves streaming with sweat. Dozens of craftsmen tending the furnaces together made quite a spectacle.

'Which one of them... is Logger?'

He wanted to kidnap them all, but doing so would inevitably expose his identity.

'A dagger revealed is no longer a dagger.'

The question of why a Demon King would abduct dwarves would shatter their assumptions about Demon Kings. So he absolutely could not let anyone discover that he, a Demon King, was kidnapping a dwarf.

Just one, then—the most skilled one he could find.

That was when it happened.

HUMMM

A faint vibration disturbed his senses. It was a concealed intruder alarm spell he had failed to notice while distracted.

“An intruder!”

“Lord Logger's workshop!”

The soldiers rushed into motion. At the sound of the siren, the craftsmen's hammering abruptly stopped.

But that was...

CLANG, CLANG

...actually a stroke of luck.

Ahead in the corridor, the lone remaining sound of hammering came from beyond a door. The soldiers' cries of “Logger's room!” echoed in Berge's ears.

“...”

He carefully opened the door. Sweltering heat washed over him.

A dwarf stood hammering, the muscles of his back rippling. The red-hot metal spat brilliant sparks as potent mana flowed into it. The whole process was almost beautiful.

But at that moment...

“...”

“...”

The dwarf turned to look straight at Berge. Their eyes met.

“... A demon?”

“... A hero?”

Their instinctive hostility toward each other surged like a storm.

The dwarf summoned the forge's flames. Fierce fire engulfed Berge, and a heavy hammer descended through it.

But the hammer could not penetrate his flesh. The forge's flames were as familiar as a friend.

CRUNCH

A rough hand clamped around the dwarf's throat.

“You're remarkably weak for a hero.”

Weaker than any hero I have ever faced.

Berge smiled sinisterly.

* * *

Heroes were guardians. Demons were invaders.

Heroes chosen by the dimension instinctively sensed invaders. Invaders instinctively recognized their natural enemies.

No complicated process was necessary. The moment either revealed even the slightest opening, they knew each other for enemies.

That was precisely why Berge had put Granada forward as his public representative. However well he concealed his face, if he acted personally and encountered a hero, the slightest display of power would inevitably expose his identity.

In this world, there was no telling when or where one might meet a hero.

“Urgh...!”

The dwarf's face went pale.

“Weaker than any hero I have ever faced.”

A hero was, by definition, someone granted the dimension's power. That power was the dimension's own will to protect its world, so heroes were bound to grow strong.

Of course, a newly chosen hero might still be weak. But that didn't apply to the dwarf called Logger.

He had a reputation as the finest craftsman in the city. Surely that hadn't been built in a day or two.

Could someone like that truly be this weak?

“Wh-why is a demon here?”

“Who knows?”

To kidnap you. That had been the original plan, anyway.

“This is awkward.”

He had expected an ordinary craftsman, but found a hero instead.

'Should I just reveal that I'm a Demon King and kill him?'

His combat ability was abysmal, but his fame was enough to stir an entire underground city. Given the nature of dwarves, word of him would have spread to other cities, too.

It would differ slightly from killing other heroes, but it should still have a considerable effect.

Or would it?

A hero's death was valuable because heroes were their people's hope. But could such a pathetically weak hero really be their hope?

“The door is open!”

“He's after Lord Logger!”

The soldiers' voices rapidly drew closer.

Logger racked his brains desperately.

'Why is a demon here?'

Towers were the demons' strongholds. The farther they traveled from them, the weaker they became under dimensional interference.

Demons despised weakness and could not readily accept their own weakening. That was why only demonic creatures went out to meet heroes.

There was only one reason a demon—or a Demon King—would nevertheless venture out personally.

To kidnap a prince or princess.

'Don't tell me...!'

A thought flashed through Logger's mind like lightning.

'The princess...?'

The kingdom's princess had recently visited this underground city, Volfner, and was still staying here. She had come for the weapon Logger was forging and intended to take it away as soon as it was finished.

What if the demon had learned that and come here for her?

Logger clenched his fists. He hated fighting, but he was still a hero. He could not stand by and let someone dare abduct her.

“You bastard! You will never kidnap the princess!”

“Oh? There's a princess here?”

“Don't play innocent!”

“Don't worry. I'm kidnapping you.”

“... What?”

THUD

Logger's vision went dark.

“Lord Logger!”

The soldiers who burst in too late found an empty workshop and the princess's weapon melting in the soaring heat.

* * *

“Mmm.”

Logger opened his eyes to an old ceiling. As though bound by something, he could neither move his body nor open his mouth.

“Awake?”

He heard a deep, resonant voice and sensed dense demonic energy.

“We're in an inn on the city's outskirts. I'd like to leave now, but this has become more of an affair than I expected. Security is tight. Not that I couldn't get out if I wanted, but I'd rather not expose my identity.”

Logger shifted his eyes. He saw the bored gaze of the man sitting with his legs crossed, looking down at him.

“So, let me ask you. Do you know of any secret passages? I know dwarven cities have several tunnels. A hero should know one or two.”

The bastard whispered.

“I'll let you open your mouth. Shouting won't accomplish anything, but if you want, I'll let you scream until your vocal cords tear.”

SNAP

A light snap of the fingers. His stiffened tongue moved again.

“... Why would I tell you? As you said, I'm a hero. Do you think a hero would help a demon bastard like you?”

“I'm giving you a choice. Leave quietly with me, or watch from the afterlife as the princess is kidnapped.”

“...!”

So he was after the princess after all!

Logger gritted his teeth.

“The kingdom's knights have an ironclad guard around Her Highness. Do you think a lone demon like you could dare kidnap her?”

“Let me correct one thing. I'm not some mere demon. I'm a Demon King. So yes, I can do it, regardless of a few paltry guards.”

“... D-Demon King?”

Not just a demon?

HIC

“Ah, I've thought of something more entertaining than simply killing you. If I release you, then kidnap the princess, what will the dwarves think?”

“What are you plotting?”

“A hero was captured by a demon and survived. Then the princess vanished. Isn't the conclusion obvious? ‘A hero who sold out the princess to beg for his life.’ What a truly wicked hero.”

“Humans call that social ruin, don't they?”

The Demon King murmured, snapping his fingers. His tongue was like that of a cunning serpent, and Logger's face turned pale.

Even if he survived, that would be no life at all. He didn't even want to imagine what would happen afterward. Death would be better.

“You vicious...!”

“Thank you for the compliment. I'll give you another chance. What will you do?”

“... I'll go.”

The Demon King and the hero ascended to the surface through a tunnel the hero had secretly dug.

* * *

Meanwhile...

“...”

The princess of the dwarven kingdom stared blankly at a half-melted lump of metal.

It could no longer be called either a weapon or armor.

“... So you're saying this is my weapon?”

“... It was your weapon.”

“Shut up. Before I kill you.”

The knight closed his mouth at the princess's growl.

“Give me an explanation for this that actually makes sense.”

“Master Logger has disappeared. There was a major disturbance just before he vanished, and we have testimony from the soldiers. For now, we are treating it as an abduction. We have sealed every entrance and begun a search.”

“Fucking hell!”

CRASH

The princess slammed her fist down. It punched through the table and shattered part of the floor. The knights staggered, and screams rose from below.

“Isn't that bastard supposed to be a hero?”

“He is, but he devotes himself entirely to smithing, so his fighting ability is rather...”

“Find him now! Catch that goddamn kidnapping bastard and drag him before me!”

“We will catch him without fail!”

“Otherwise, this will be your head.”

SCREEECH

An iron cup twisted beyond recognition in her crushing grip.

The knights' faces turned pale.