After Parting with Magic-Bearded Luna

After parting ways with Luna, whose beard was now enchanted with magic, I stopped by a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shop selling explorer gear on my way home.

"Hmm... Joodak said it doesn't matter if the dwarves know my face, but still, better safe than sorry, right?"

Joodak had told me that any dwarves I'd meet couldn't even attempt to harm me because of the geas she placed on them.

An absolute command over someone else? It was absurd no matter how many times I thought about it.

...Just what the hell are you, Joodak?

These days, I was genuinely grateful she was on my side. Posts like this popped up in the gallery every now and then.

Anyway, posts like that—speculating about kidnapping me—popped up here and there. So I decided to be extra cautious.

God forbid I actually got snatched; I might end up under lifetime protection, never leaving the house again.

Honestly, that'd be way safer, but the fact they let me roam free made me truly grateful to Joodak, the Tower Master, the Saint, the princess— all the Dungeon Master supporters.

Anyway, I bought a cloak made from monster hide and a mask carved from carapace, then headed home.

I tore an incomplete ticket and entered the dungeon I'd turn into a salt field.

A cool breeze and salty sea air hit me—sensations impossible in the shelter.

"Whew... this is refreshing."

As I savored the ocean, a glow gathered nearby, and three dwarves appeared.

"Ooh...!! Bro, sea! Actual sea!!"

"No way... how long since we've seen the sky?"

"Kuhahaha! This air's bracing!!!"

The dwarves reacted wildly at first, then spotted me, flinched, and approached.

"Gasp, you're the Dungeon... Master? Wild getup."

"Can't have my identity leaked."

The lead dwarf looked puzzled.

"Hmm... I get it? But with the geas, we can't harm you anyway—no need to be that cautious..."

"Better safe than sorry."

"Fair enough, if you say so."

The dwarf on the right elbowed the middle one's gut.

"Bro, I win—pay up with coins."

"Hey, cloak and mask? Game's not over."

"...That lanky giant a dwarf? No way."

"Idiot, didn't you hear the voice? Not the busty cowgirl beastkin you sing about."

"Both wrong—look at that build, human for sure. Pay me, both of you."

...What are these guys doing?

"What're you...?"

"Hahaha!! We made a little bet on what you'd look like! I said dwarf. This dimwit bet busty cowgirl beastkin, that one said frail human loli."

"...All three wrong?"

Where'd 'loli' even come from? I get it's a meme, but...

"Kuhahaha!! True! Gallery guesses are all trash!! Nicknames for intros? I'm Granite Fist."

"Mithril Pickaxe Owner. Shorten to Pickaxe if ya want."

"Beer Barrel Body here."

We did quick intros and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠discussed plans.

"Salt fields, eh... If we can produce salt, it'll revolutionize shelter cuisine."

"Can you build it? I can tweak terrain roughly if needed."

"Building's easy... but it'll take time. Even for dwarves, a massive salt field needs serious labor."

Yeah, not difficulty—scale was the issue.

I'd requested a soccer-field-sized mega salt flat. Room for at least 100 workers. Simple design, but sheer area meant insane man-hours.

"Flattening land or digging pits—if you rough it out, we can cut time big."

"Got it. So, timeline?"

I had no construction know-how... but even in fantasy, months minimum?

"...Generously, two weeks."

"...?"

"Two weeks? Not months?"

"Huh? Ten days if pushed."

Ten days? Insane. Am I missing something?

"Uh... I'm ignorant, but physically, even for you guys...?"

Three dwarves covering a soccer field in ten days? No way, even for a noob like me.

"Ah, Joodak didn't tell ya our skills? Normal dwarves wouldn't get shelter entry."

"What?"

"We're magic-using dwarves."

Granite Fist extended a hand, conjuring a fireball in midair.

Fwoosh—

What the fuck is this abomination...!!!!