26. Magic Sword Legend: Dwarves Who Use Magic? What the Hell... Like Carnivorous Elves Polluting with a World Tree Campfire?
"...Wait, aren't dwarves allowed to use magic?"
"What can you do when you're born this way?"
Granite Fist scratched the back of his head as he said it.
"Among us dwarves, we were born with exceptionally low magic resistance. That's why we can learn magic."
What the hell was that supposed to mean...? My knowledge was still too fresh from just arriving in this world—I couldn't grasp the context.
"Um... did I summarize too much? Honestly, all I know about dwarves is from rumors—they're a craftsman race. Could you explain in detail...?"
At my request, Granite Fist stroked his beard and spoke.
"Hmm... excluding the craftsman race part, us dwarves are innately highly resistant to mana. That makes it hard for us to sense or accept mana."
"But on the flip side, that high resistance to mana means a dwarf equipped with sturdy gear can become an excellent frontline tank."
From what Granite Fist was saying, it was clear dwarves in this world really couldn't use magic.
"So, you're able to use magic because your magic resistance is low?"
"Well, that's the reason we can use it, yeah..."
"Oho... that's it? Nothing else?"
If it was some special constitution, I figured there had to be some juicy backstory.
"Hmm, because we use magic, we got exiled by our own kin."
What the hell was that now?
"Huh? You got exiled just for using magic???"
"Learning magic is taboo for dwarves. Low-resistance dwarves like us are born rarely, but ones who seriously study magic like us? Pretty much nonexistent."
Dwarf society reveres the act of hammering steel and crafting with their own hands as sacred. They worship physical labor.
And the complete opposite of that is magic. To dwarves, magic feels like getting results without moving a muscle or putting in effort, so they look down on it.
So-called 'clicker' phobia.
But still, that didn't make sense.
"Huh? Dwarves are that hostile to magic? Enough to exile their own? Isn't there more to it?"
Granite Fist glanced around cautiously before continuing.
"......Long ago, there was a magic sword that brought chaos to the continent, and legend says it was forged by a magic-using dwarf."
No shit, that was obviously the reason.
"Anyway, because of that legend, an unspoken rule formed: dwarves must never learn magic. Dwarves who can even learn it in the first place are rare."
Usually, they're executed on discovery. To dwarves, it's a massive taboo that could spark diplomatic incidents...
"You're lucky you weren't executed...?"
"Actually, we weren't exiled—we bolted the second we got caught! Krhahahahaha!!!"
"Crazy...."
The other two dwarves had similar stories: they got caught studying magic, fled their clans, and somehow ended up together ever since.
"But knowing all that, why'd you learn magic? You could've just lived quietly."
"......"
Why were they avoiding my eyes?
These guys didn't...
"No way, right? Shit... you really learned it to make a magic sword?"
...If my guess was right, these dwarves were out of their minds.
"Krhahahaha!!! Any dwarf worth his salt dreams of forging the ultimate weapon!!"
"Exactly, brother! With the talent to craft the strongest gear, how could we not try!!!"
"Heh heh, our kin curse this constitution as a blight and shun us, but it's just jealousy from those without the gift...."
......Was this okay?
"Well, whatever the drawbacks of a magic sword, its power is said to be immense, so that's probably why Joodak hid us in the shelter on the sly. Cost us a slave contract, though."
Fair point—if they could make weapons powerful enough to shake the world, it'd be another card against the monsters.
"Hmm... but can you actually make this magic sword or whatever?"
If it was such a taboo, the recipe itself was probably lost, and any related info sealed or erased.
The dwarves swallowed hard before answering.
"Krhmm... we've tried many times, but no matter what, we couldn't reach the level in the legends. Stories say a normal knight could reshape terrain with one swing, but ours? The power's underwhelming. Makes you wonder if it's all hype. We scraped together what fragments of the legend remained and recreated it since the original method's lost."
Of course they'd failed.
"But legends get exaggerated over generations, right?"
"...Thousands of years ago, a video-recording crystal orb survived. Even long-lived elves confirmed the legend was real."
"Huh?"
A legendary magic sword that definitely existed, forgeable only by magic-using dwarves...
"Anyway, if we recreate that sword, eliminate the drawbacks, and mass-produce it! Driving out the monsters and reclaiming the surface would be a breeze! Plus, we'd etch our names in history!"
...That'd be ideal if possible, but since they hadn't succeeded yet, maybe there was some... special forging method missing?
"Krhahaha! Luckily, we can melt down and recycle the ore endlessly, so keep trying and refining, and we'll make a magic sword someday!"
"Right, this little bro here's already glimpsing the next breakthrough. At this rate, we'll succeed within ten years!"
"Heh heh, staring at this sea sparked new ideas for mana circuits. I might be the first to forge one!"
Something about talking to these dwarves made me think they fundamentally lacked imagination...
"Um... have you tried any other methods?"
"What're you on about? We've tried everything—decades of thousands of trial and error!"
Granite Fist glared at me, annoyed.
"No, but hear me out... that magic sword's power is otherworldly, and from what you said, it messes with the user's mind bad."
"So?"
"It's not a normal sword made right... not a magic issue, but like... some shamanistic ritual or something?"
The dwarves' eyes went wide at my words.
"Wh-what..."
"I mean... what if it's not insane craftsmanship that made the magic sword, but some shady ritual like human sacrifice?"
I didn't know if this world had evil gods or whatever, but from all the media I'd consumed, a weapon that's freakishly strong with a mind debuff screamed 'soaked in massive grudges and blood.'
"Th-that makes sense!!! Yeah, it could be!!!"
"No way!! A ritual... it was a ritual!!!"
"True... to embed ritual circuits into gear, you'd need magic knowledge..."
...I really hoped they weren't planning actual human sacrifices.
"You're not gonna kidnap people and use 'em as offerings, right?"
"......"
"Krhmm...."
Crazy bastards...
"I'll tell Joodak?"
"......We'll look into other methods. Eliminating side effects and mass-producing is the endgame anyway."
With my curiosity sated, we discussed the salt flat construction, future schedules, and as their employer, holidays and wages.
"Huh? You don't need coins?"
"Right. We want something else instead—cool with that?"
"What is it?"
Granite Fist carefully pulled a cloth from his bosom. Inside was something like fruit seeds.
"These are... seeds?"
"We want farmland to grow 'em. Okay?"
They wanted a whole dungeon for it...
'Farming, huh... I've thought about it.'
"Sure, but you know my dungeons have no bugs. And I haven't even confirmed if farming's possible here. Still good?"
"No issue—we'll handle it. Just make us one farm plot, please..."
Even if farming worked, how long till these seeds grew into fruit-bearing trees?
"Even if it works, it'll take forever for fruit. You cool with that?"
"Years don't matter. I wanna drink the booze brewed from these someday."
Granite Fist gazed at the seeds with a distant look.
...Come to think of it, booze must be scarce in the shelter. Can't brew fresh either...
A world without booze... yeah, hell for dwarves.
I whipped up a preset dungeon, linked tickets, and handed them out.
"Thanks... really, thank you."
A flat, sunny plot by a river for easy water access.
Granite Fist and the dwarves carefully dug holes, planted the seeds, and repeated at intervals.
"Phew... done."
"Hope they grow well."
"...With our reward secured, time to build that salt flat."
"Hit me up in chat for materials."
The dwarves nodded, used their tickets, and headed to the sea dungeon for construction.
"Hmm... nothing more here. Let's head out? Kkomangi! Send me back!!"
I yelled at the sky and soon returned to my room.
A bit later, in the now-empty dungeon where the dwarves had planted. Tiny sprouts had already emerged from the soil.