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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: Dwarf Princess
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"Now, think about it. The heroes confidently opened the door, expecting weak monsters. But what if monsters and mazes weren't there?"
"If it were dwarves, it'd be a laughingstock. You want mockery instead of demonic energy, don't you?"
"If you utter the word 'mockery' in front of me, Gordon, even you might lose your head."
"..."
Gordon shut his mouth as killing intent exploded outward in an instant.
"Let me explain again. I'm not talking about dwarves themselves. I mean the tools they create. What if giant ballistae fired bolts, logs and mechanisms activated, and massive cannons loaded with explosives spewed fire in between?"
"Uh..."
That's pretty good.
"Not just pretty good—it'll definitely work."
The Demon King's Canon had already been studied and countered by Airein's heroes.
There was a corresponding Hero's Canon, and using dwarves was a clever way to exploit its weaknesses.
"Heroes have deep-rooted prejudices."
Weak monsters on the first floor, stronger ones and demonkin higher up.
"That's their truth."
Demon kings had treated the canon as absolute truth for centuries. It was no different from brainwashing passed down over hundreds of years.
"But what if, instead, dwarves' meticulously crafted masterpieces rained down like a bombardment? And they weren't powered by mana?"
"That's plenty..."
Possible.
Demonkin might deny it. But humans were different.
Even heroes strong enough to face demon kings head-on were ultimately human. A hole in the gut or ruptured organs meant death.
What was a minor wound to demonkin was severe for humans.
An attack at a completely unexpected time, from a completely unexpected source—it could wipe them out entirely or at least inflict fatal wounds.
"Then I'll take that as your agreement."
Gordon, dazedly imagining the scene, hurriedly shook his head.
"Even so, that doesn't align with the canon..."
The demon king was already gone.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The dimension called Airein clearly belonged to humans.
Though countless other races lived there, over 70% was under human control, more than 20% was uncharted wilderness, and other races occupied less than 10%.
Even that scant territory was being carved up among rival other races.
Finding other races required venturing deep into remote areas. Humans had claimed all the good spots.
Among them, dwarves renowned for their metallurgy were famous for building underground nests in mineral-rich mountains.
Berge hid his face under a thick hood and stood at the entrance to their underground city. Crossbows aimed at him.
"Halt. Who are you and where from?"
"A mercenary from the Pullan area."
He presented the mercenary tag obtained from the Red Hawk Mercenary Corps.
"A human?"
"Yes."
"What's your business?"
He held out a chipped sword he'd picked up along the way.
"Using junk, eh."
"Don't cause trouble."
Rumble—
Inside, a massive device plummeted vertically. Faint mana guided Berge underground.
First time.
He'd killed countless dwarves before his regression, but this was his first time visiting their city directly.
Whenever a hero's weapon seemed exceptional, it was always those dwarf bastards' work.
That's why he'd sent monsters to massacre cities—not just one or two.
Vast riches and spoils were bonuses, but back then he hadn't grasped money's value. He'd pursued only strength, demonic energy, and the canon.
I was an idiot.
That fortune could have bought a kingdom.
The doors opened. A long avenue stretched ahead.
Buildings lined the street in orderly fashion.
A planned city unlike humans' haphazard ones. Rigid yet intricate.
Thud thud thud—
Gentle geothermal warmth rose.
Distant hammer strikes echoed, black smoke rising to the ceiling.
Stout dwarves bustled about.
Berge entered a nearby inn first.
"A human...?"
He endured the short innkeeper's wary gaze and the outrageous price of five silver coins for one night.
"Five silvers for one night?"
"Take it or leave it. No innkeeper would house a human for less."
"It's been ages since the peace accord."
"Accords don't erase history."
Whatever. Not Berge's concern.
"Tell me the city's best artisan, and I'll add one more coin."
"A hero here for gear repairs?"
"No law says only heroes can repair gear."
"Two coins."
"Gold?"
"Silver, obviously."
"Dwarves love money as much as heroes, they say."
"Humans made us that way."
Berge placed seven silver coins on the table.
"Roger Friedri. Head 1km east from the central plaza along the main avenue—on the right. But you won't get what you want. Too many reservations. No time for a mere mercenary."
"You sold that info well."
"You asked for the best artisan."
The dwarf shrugged and handed over a key.
"Third floor, room 303."
"He there now?"
"Rarely leaves the workshop, so probably. Though he might not emerge enough to meet."
"Thanks."
He headed upstairs first. The room was spartan: small table, worn bed. Unimportant.
He opened the window and slipped out.
Hood firmly in place, he headed to the workshop.
Five massive chimneys belched thick smoke. Contrary to the innkeeper, no line.
Armed guards instead. Dozens at least. Whether hired by the famed artisan or posted by city leaders who esteemed him, one thing was clear.
Skill.
The innkeeper hadn't lied.
Of course. Dwarves are known to deliver value for money.
Unlike greedy humans who don't.
Berge slipped into the workshop, avoiding dwarven eyes.
Clang clang clang clang—
Hammer strikes barely audible outside thundered through the building. Heat was intense.
Below, shirtless dwarves sweated profusely. Dozens of artisans working furnaces en masse—a spectacle.
Which one's...
Roger?
He wanted to kidnap them all, but that would expose him for sure.
A revealed card isn't a card.
Questions like "Why would the demon king kidnap dwarves?" would shatter their prejudices about him. He couldn't let them discover he was the demon king kidnapping dwarves.
So, the best one. Just one.
Then.
Vmmm—
A subtle vibration disrupted his senses.
A stealth intruder alarm he hadn't noticed amid distraction.
"Intruder!"
"Roger's workshop!"
Guards mobilized frantically.
Hammering stopped amid wailing sirens.
But that was.
Clang clang—
A boon.
Ahead in the corridor. Beyond the door, the only hammer sound. Guards' shouts of "Roger's room" rang in Berge's ears.
"..."
He cautiously opened the door. Scorching heat rushed in.
A dwarf hammered away, rippling back muscles on display.
Glowing red metal spewed sparks. Intense mana imbued it. The process was almost beautiful.
But then.
"..."
"..."
The dwarf turned, locking eyes with Berge.
Gazes met.
"...Demonkin?"
"...Hero?"
Instinctual hostility toward each other surged like a storm.
The dwarf ignited the forge. Fierce flames engulfed Berge. A heavy hammer followed.
But the hammer didn't pierce his flesh. The flames felt friendly.
Crunch—
Rough hands seized the dwarf's throat.
"For a hero, you're awfully weak."
More than any I'd faced.
Berge grinned wickedly.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Heroes are guardians.
Demonkin are invaders.
Dimension-chosen heroes instinctively detect invaders.
Invaders instinctively recognize their natural predators.
No complex process needed.
The moment a gap appears, they recognize each other as foes.
That was why Berge used Granada as his face. No matter how he hid, appearing personally risked encountering a hero and exposing himself the instant he showed power.
Heroes could appear anywhere, anytime.
"Urk...!"
The dwarf's face paled.
"More than any hero I've faced."
Heroes were beings empowered by the dimension. The dimension's will to protect the world ensured they grew strong.
Newly minted heroes might be weak, but not this Roger.
He had the city's highest acclaim. Not built overnight.
How could someone like that be this weak?
"Wh-why is demonkin here?"
"Who knows."
Came to kidnap you. Originally.
"This is problematic."
Thought he was a normal artisan. Turns out a hero.
Reveal I'm the demon king and kill him?
His strength was pathetic, but his fame could shake an underground city. Dwarven networks would spread it.
Different from other heroes, but effective.
Or would it?
A hero's death mattered because heroes were hope. But was this weakling hope?
"The door's open!"
"They're after Roger!"
Guards' voices neared rapidly.
Roger desperately racked his brain.
Why demonkin here?
The tower was demonkin base. Farther away, dimensional interference weakened them.
Demonkin despised weakness, denied their own decline. Only monsters greeted heroes.
Yet demonkin—or demon king—appeared for one reason.
To kidnap princes or princesses.
No way...!
Lightning flashed in Roger's mind.
The princess...?
The kingdom's princess had visited Volfner recently and stayed. Purpose: Roger's weapon, to take upon completion.
If demonkin knew and came?
Roger clenched his fists.
He hated fighting, but as a hero, he couldn't stand by.
"You! You can't kidnap the princess!"
"Oh? She was here?"
"Don't play dumb!"
"Worry not. I'm kidnapping you."
"...What?"
Thwack—
Roger's vision blacked out.
"Roger!"
The late-arriving guards saw an empty workshop and the princess's weapon melting in rising heat.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"Ugh."
Roger opened his eyes. A shabby ceiling. Bound, unable to move or speak.
"Awake?"
Deep voice, thick demonic energy palpable.
"Outskirts inn. Want to leave the city, but things escalated. Heavy security. Could escape, but don't want exposure."
Roger rolled his eyes. A bored gaze looked down from crossed legs.
"So I ask: know any secret passages? I know dwarf cities have many. A hero would know a couple..."
The fiend whispered.
"I'll free your mouth. Scream all you want—no use. Until your vocal cords tear, if you wish."
Snap—
His stiff tongue loosened.
"...Think I'll tell you? I'm a hero. Why help demonkin scum?"
"Giving you a choice. Escape smoothly with me, or watch the princess kidnapped from the afterlife."
"...!"
The target was the princess after all!
Roger ground his teeth.
"The kingdom's knights guard her ironclad. Think a single demonkin can kidnap her?"
"One correction: I'm not 'demonkin scum'—I'm the 'Demon King'. Knights or no, it's possible."
"...De-Demon King?"
Not just demonkin?
Click—
"Ah, thought of something more fun than killing you. Release you, kidnap the princess—what will dwarves think?"
"What scheme is this!"
"Hero captured by demonkin, survives. Princess vanishes. Obvious, no? 'Hero who sold princess to save his skin.' Vile hero."
Humans called it social burial.
The demon king snapped his fingers, muttering. His serpentine tongue paled Roger's face.
That was no life. Aftermath unthinkable. Better dead.
"You vile...!"
"Thanks for the praise. One more chance. What'll it be?"
"...I'll go."
The demon king and hero ascended to the surface through a tunnel the hero had secretly dug.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Meanwhile.
"..."
The Dwarf Kingdom's princess stared blankly at the half-melted metal lump.
Neither weapon nor armor.
"...So this was my weapon?"
"...It was."
"Shut up. Before I kill you."
The knight fell silent at her growl.
"Explain satisfactorily why this happened."
"Roger Gong vanished. Major commotion just before. Soldiers' testimonies. Assuming kidnapping, sealing all entrances, searching now."
"Fuck!"
Bam—
Her fist smashed the table, crumbling floor. Knights staggered; screams from below.
"That guy's a hero, right?"
"Hero, but focused on smithing—combat lacking..."
"Find him now! Drag that kidnapper bastard here!"
"We will!"
"Or this becomes your head."
Creeeak—
The metal cup warped beyond recognition in her grip.
The knights paled.