The Nation of Artisans (1)
In the fantasy world, dwarves are the quintessential blacksmith race. With exceptional dexterity, keen senses, and the natural ability to gauge an object's temperature through sight alone, they are Natural Born Smiths! Their homeland, Nidavellir, was the reason Germania had become a technological powerhouse by inheriting the civilization of the divine age. The dwarven nation is small in territory. Because of this, they have focused intensely on specific technologies, securing their position as a trade and buffer zone among the great powers. Thanks to their geographical location and human resources, they have also become, knowingly or not, targets of the powerful's greed. To top it all off, in this libertine otherworld, they even possess a Confucian-like national character that respects premarital chastity. Somehow, it feels like returning to my hometown even though I've never been there before.
‘Still, at least you bastards aren't forced into the back-to-the-mountain, facing-the-water real estate mode.’
Nidavellir has plenty of flatlands. It was on easy mode compared to South Korea, where over fifty percent of the land was mountains. They are self-sufficient enough to feed their population with wheat left over. Goddamn fucking east-high-west-low topography. You dwarves have no right to complain. If you're upset, want a taste of K-real estate?
‘And their race is superior too.’
It's something I say every time, but among the otherworld races, only humans are the idiots. The beloved children of chaos? A hymn to humans defying fate, my ass—just give them a dexterity passive instead. Yet they hold the hegemony of the world. It's truly astonishing. Humans really are something else. Magic aptitude below even elves, physical abilities below dwarves. They can't even use runes. Their lifespans are short. And yet they're the primates. What the hell is wrong with this otherworld's balance?
‘Anyway, the land of the dwarves, huh.’
The name made it sound like it would be swarming with short-legged folks with bushy beards, but that thought was on the level of "there are no slow-legged Black people"—pure racial discrimination. Let's set aside prejudice. Franc is half-dwarf, after all. Franc doesn't have a beard, not even peach fuzz on her face. Below the neck, not a single hair grows, so when I'm kneading her, it feels like I've seized all the happiness in the world. If we take Franc as the dwarven average, then what? Blacksmiths are all Franc. General stores are all Franc. Restaurant chefs are Franc, and innkeepers are Franc. A party of mage Franc, warrior Franc, and nun Franc. A country full of Francs ruled by Princess Franc and Queen Franc.
“……It's heaven.”
“What is?”
Franc perked up her ears at the mutter that slipped out on its own.
“No, I was just wondering what kind of place Nidavellir is.”
I nuzzled my cheek against Franc, who was sitting on my lap like a child. Ah, she's so damn soft. My hands almost wandered to her chest on their own, but I held back because the other party members were around. More precisely, I held back because of Larilura. If it had only been Dana and Veronica, I would've groped her without a second thought.
“It's just ordinary. I don't know what you were expecting, Nord, but it's just that there are a lot of dwarves. At the port, there are plenty of other races too.”
“I see. That's a shame.”
“Yeah. If you go to a rural village, the buildings are small, so other races might find it inconvenient. But anyway, Nord, you should shave soon.”
“Ah, sorry. Was it itchy?”
When I stroked her cheek, I could definitely feel the stubble. I don't grow much facial hair to begin with—if I let it grow, it just looks like a gross goatee—but lately, with life on the ship, my shaving cycle had gotten much longer. For reference, the otherworld's razor is a knife. The kind of scalpel you'd expect a psycho serial killer or torturer to use. I've been using it for three years and still haven't gotten used to it.
Franc turned her waist to the side and stroked my hair.
“While you're at it, let's cut your hair too. I'll do it for you later.”
“Wow, our Franc really can do everything.”
Cooking, sewing clothes, shaving, and even haircuts—she can do it all. If I'm not careful, I might really end up as a kept man. Hand over all the housework and chores to Franc and just whisper sweet nothings while becoming a living dildo. If I return to Earth, I might just live like that with my wives in some cheap neighborhood.
Larilura, lying on the bed, kicked her legs and asked.
“Senior~. There's a ton of leather. What are you going to make~?”
“Armor first, I suppose. The blue is nice, but I'm thinking of dyeing it black with dye.”
I'll arm myself with the full giant leather set (excluding the helmet) and dye it real black. With the leftover leather, maybe I'll make a cloak to wear over a suit when attending formal occasions with expensive fur attached. Even considering the cost of materials, it shouldn't break the bank too much.
“We'll store the rest in the warehouse at home. Franc said it would take about two weeks.”
“The design will be done by me and Nord, so it'll be finished quickly. We just need to cover the cost of the alchemical solution and the repair fees.”
“Hmm. In that case, we'll have to visit several places.”
“Not necessarily. Usually, blacksmiths and alchemists have partnerships. If you leave it at a shop, they'll handle everything.”
Franc explained with a slightly bitter smile.
“My mother and father met that way too.”
“……Then, what about your family, Sister? You'll go greet them, right?”
It was Larilura's question as she stood up and sat neatly on the bed. At those words, Franc shook her head.
“They've passed. Father before I came to my senses, and Mother when I was thirteen.”
“Ah……”
“Hehe. Don't feel sorry. I'm used to it now.”
Franc smiled as if she truly didn't care. I was about to let go of the arm around her waist, but I stayed still, thinking that showing excessive concern might be worse. As if trying to lighten the now-heavy atmosphere, Veronica winked with one eye closed.
“……If it's a life without parents, I have some expertise too. In fact, no one here can go meet their parents, can they?”
“Why are you self-owning with a parent diss?”
Did Veronica lose her parents too? Because our races were different, I hadn't paid much attention. I'm a failure as a husband. For reference, Dana's parents are alive, but she said she doesn't want to visit them. The reason she's not here is because she's out organizing her thesis.
Larilura glanced at me before asking.
“Senior, what about your…… family?”
“They're back in my hometown. It's been a while since I've seen them, so I'm a bit worried.”
“Ah, I see.”
Larilura looked slightly relieved. The two wives who knew my situation gave awkward, wry smiles. I recalled what Alexandra—Larilura's circus troupe leader—had said. Larilura, whose real name is Priscilla, was also an orphan who didn't know her family's faces. It was only natural that adventurers or circus troupes wandering the world wouldn't have families or a place to settle. From now on, I'll do my best to build a good family for my wives. That's Franc's dream too.
A few days into the tedious voyage, I came up to the deck with a spear. It was for training.
“Freezing Hand.”
─Crackle!
I activated the magic and generated cold air in my hands. The mana coating of Beast Regression gained a blue chill. I compressed it and gathered it onto a single finger. As the cold energy condensed in one place, white frost rose. Then, through spell combination, I fixed the generation point of Summon Cloud in one spot. Narrowing the spray angle sharply like that──
I fired.
“Vertical.”
─Fwoosh!!
Compressed cold vapor shot out as if liquid nitrogen had burst! It flew like a laser beam and struck the sea surface, but it wasn't enough to freeze the waving ocean in an instant. All that happened was the splashing spray turning into frozen particles. To create an Ice Age like in cartoons or games, you'd need an absurdly low temperature or magic that distorts the laws of physics.
‘The magic I'm using doesn't qualify for that.’
This was a spell combination I could at least attempt to recreate from the magic I'd used in my rampage state. It couldn't match the original, but its lethality seemed decent. If properly compressed and released, it had the power to tear a person's body apart like a gas explosion accident! The cold itself wasn't particularly noteworthy. Unless hit for a long time like a flamethrower, it wouldn't be a critical hit. Though even ten seconds would level up a living wild boar into frozen pork belly.
‘The drawback is the short range?’
At just ten meters, it would probably feel like nothing more than a very cold breeze.
‘How the hell did that freezing beam work in the rampage state?’
This was almost like the difference between a kid playing ninja shuriken with an HB pencil and a professional killer who's actually killed someone with a pencil. Damn, where does that ice eunuch get off being so unfair. Maybe I should try combining existing techniques to imitate it. I stomped my foot on the deck and unfolded the mandala of rune magic.
“Spell deployment, Nauthiz-Ansuz.”
A mandala magic circle spread across the floor. It was a green magic circle with the rune ᚨ (Ansuz) floating inside a round ring. Ah, fuck. I already feel like I've failed. When an attribute enters a magic circle, the color should change accordingly, but it's still my original mana color. Damn it.
With a sigh, I condensed cold air at my fingertip and aimed at the sea surface again. Come on, sandbag.
“Master's Freezing Beam.”
─Fwoosh!!
It was the same compressed vapor spraying out as before. So it really is a failure. I had intended to add the magic buff effect of the rune ᚨ (Ansuz) to Freezing Hand, but it wasn't as easy as it sounded. I had hoped it would work like the similar spell combinations I'd used before. What a waste.
I clicked my tongue but quickly shook off the disappointment.
‘Just because I've done some soldering in a factory doesn't mean I can compete with a real welder.’
Even within the same field, the skill gap was like heaven and earth. Looks like I'll just have to keep training every day. I guess I don't have that high an aptitude for ice magic.
‘Still, I definitely need to master Freezing Hand.’
Specifically, I need to raise it to a level where I can use it without chanting. Only then could I recreate that magic I used against the giant—the Absolute Celestial Domain. I checked to make sure there were no other people on the deck. It seemed only the crew monitoring the sea were present. There were people working in the back, but the aftereffects wouldn't reach that far. Thinking that, I activated magic in both hands.
Whoosh—! Crackle……!
Heat in my right hand, cold in my left. Doing both at the same time.
‘And additionally, Summon Cloud.’
Steam was added to the cold and heat spewing from my hands. This is where it gets truly difficult. The principle of the magic is simple. It's just using the pressure of steam to induce convection through physical laws, and using heat and cold to induce convection through mana. Physics and magic! By simultaneously controlling these two laws and recreating them, the weather-manipulation magic known as Absolute Celestial Domain is born.
If I'm not mistaken, the technique name felt like it was given by some Asgardian fortune-teller who had been watching with interest, but regardless of the chuuni vibe or meaning conveyed by the sound, I think the word "domain" fits well.
Whooooosh……!
Even with the output lowered, a strong wind blew. Since this magic recreates natural phenomena with my mana, its mana efficiency was ridiculously high. If I fell from three thousand meters, I'd become a human pancake too, but you don't need that much force to push me off from that height and make me fall, do you? Anyway, that's why activating the magic itself is easy for me. But stepping on the accelerator here is truly hellishly difficult.
─Whooooosh!!
Thud!!
I was slapped across the cheek by a spinning wind and fell over. Because I had been concentrating so hard, I couldn't even break my fall properly and smashed my other cheek into the deck as well.
“Fuck.”
Lying spread-eagled, I fired a curse toward the sky for one second.
‘The output of Summon Cloud is complete trash.’
Trash or not, it was really fucking trash. The heat and cold in my hands, converted into fire mana and water mana through the magic filter. If left alone, they would naturally pair up on their own. Like a magnet's north and south poles standing up and sticking together. It had been the same back then. When the fire mana flowing through the island reacted to the water mana the giant bastard had sprayed, a tremendous gust had blown without anyone manipulating it separately. Mixing clouds containing fire mana with clouds containing water mana was objectively a good idea. Even thinking about the ruins of the Wraith City, it was the same. A mana generator that used the attraction between light mana and dark mana. I just needed to use that for attack instead of storing it.
‘But Summon Cloud doesn't have that kind of output.’
As the name suggests, Summon Cloud is a magic that summons clouds. This magic has no output to move the summoned clouds quickly. But to create and manipulate a storm, I had to separate the hot steam and cold steam that wanted to stick together like animals in heat and make them rotate. Additionally, I needed to create pressure for convection. Like a dog chasing its own tail, the hot clouds and cold clouds need to orbit around me for the Absolute Celestial Domain to be complete. Right now, that wasn't happening.
‘At this rate, it's no different from pouring cold water on a fire I worked my ass off to light.’
I can't prevent the mana from combining and becoming ±0°C. It's the Song of Fire and Ice (Despair Edition). The feeling of a forty-year-old virgin karaoke owner who has to watch a couple making out and sucking face at a coin karaoke. I made a maglev train with north and south poles, but there's no energy to move it in the intended direction—would that be easy to understand? When fighting the giant, Veronica had used gravity to add centrifugal force because I couldn't separate the two manas by myself.
‘I need to learn a really new magic.’
This is more urgent than the transformation magic I talked about with Larilura.
─Spring!
I sprang up, performing a flashy breakdancer-like dance move. According to Tirsi, fighting with ice magic becomes difficult during the winter season. I need to practice both magic and spear techniques during this free time so it'll be easier later.
‘Should I train Gertyr too?’
I'd memorized all the technique forms, but I was still clumsy at imbuing them with mana. Why had all the techniques I'd used been applications of the 1st to 4th forms? Because I hadn't learned them all, that's why. It's like an old man at an early morning soccer game who has perfect posture but always kicks a shitty ball.
─Whoosh!!
Whirrr whirrr!!
And so, I devoted myself to training until we arrived at Nidavellir. There were days when Larilura, bored, stuck close to me and practiced magic for her circus performances or put on a skill show with me for the sailors. She said it was because she was afraid her senses would dull. And so, when our peaceful, self-training journey finally came to an end, we docked at the port of the dwarven kingdom, Nidavellir.
If someone were to ask me what my first impression of Nidavellir was, I'd answer like this: It's like the alleys of Hongdae at 2 a.m.
“Ugh……. It smells like alcohol……”
“You're telling me.”
Damn, what kind of port smells more like booze than the sea? I handed Larilura a handkerchief and observed the harbor.
“It's a beer tasting!! Why do I have to pay!!”
“Because you've emptied half a barrel, you drunk bastard!!”
“Britannia~ has~ beer~!”
“Ugh. This is Britannian beer? Shit, is this piss?”
Haha. What a mess. Probably because the beer festival was in full swing, the port was packed with drunkards, touts, and people sprawled on the ground. It wasn't particularly surprising that there were no dwarves among those passed out since daytime, though.
【We'll leave some people to guard the ship and go look for a place to sell the goods.】
Ursila said. Someone needed to stay on the ship to guard against thieves targeting the docked vessel, and our Veronica was among those assigned to that duty.
‘Because her curse hasn't fully lifted yet.’
It was her first experience, and doing it on the ship felt a bit wrong, so Veronica still couldn't walk among the others. 【We'll head straight to the blacksmith guild as well.】 【Alright. I'll pray it goes well.】 Ursila waved her hand and disappeared with the sailors. And so, taking Franc and Larilura with me, I took my first steps into the alcohol-scented port of Nidavellir.