Do You Know Drakan?
"Do you know Lord Drakan?"
The dwarf's tone shifted abruptly.
"Yes, I know him quite well."
Who could know more about Drakan than I did? His stories often lingered on the dwarves, spanning long stretches of time. They came across as tales of dear old friends from Drakan's perspective, but I doubted the dwarves saw it that way. I'd thought as much ever since hearing his accounts.
"I-is he doing well?"
"Yes, he's doing splendidly."
It wasn't a lie, not from another angle. Having ascended to godhood, he was surely thriving somewhere.
"But you know Lord Drakan?"
Even if these dwarves had aged considerably, considering the average dwarf lifespan, they likely never met him in person.
"We've heard stories about Lord Drakan drilled into our ears since childhood—enough to make them bleed."
Ah, yeah, that tracks. If he huffed a breath at the village just for not granting a favor, of course the tales would spread. Drakan claimed it was a playful puff, harmless with no injuries, but from the prey's view, that overwhelming terror would sear into their souls.
"And you are...?"
"Germain Akasha."
"Lord Germain, what is your relationship to Lord Drakan?"
"Hmm, I suppose you could call me his successor."
Disciple didn't quite fit; successor seemed right enough.
The dwarves' faces grew paler by the second.
"Um, by any chance..."
They looked like they wanted to ask if I was a dragon.
"Does that really matter?"
I hadn't reached Drakan's level yet if we measured by raw strength, but I was definitely stronger than any dwarf.
"N-no, it doesn't. Not at all."
"More importantly, I'd like to hear how you ended up here."
The dwarves had arrived and faced multiple interrogations from kingdom officials, but they'd been evasive, almost like they were hiding something.
"Well, you see..."
"It's a very long story."
What could loosen the tongues of these clearly secretive dwarves?
"No problem. You could talk for the next hundred years, and I'd listen."
I leaned back leisurely to put them at ease.
"Ahem! Embarrassing as it is, we're runaway dwarves."
"Runaways?"
"Yes. A group of friends who left home to see the wider world."
Some adolescent rebellion? Though at what age did dwarf puberty hit? Elves didn't seem to have one. These bearded, hairy dwarves before me didn't look young, at any rate.
"Pardon me, but how old are you?"
"Hm, just 56."
"Young indeed."
"Pardon?"
By dwarf standards, they were young—practically kids. Dwarves lived around 200 years, like elves who didn't stuff themselves.
"I'm not that old myself. Just over 200."
"Ah, I see."
Their suspicious glares turned to conviction. They definitely saw me as a dragon now.
"So, how many dwarves set out?"
"Six."
"A shame about the other four."
The dwarves bowed their heads.
But could a tiny boat crewed by just six really cross the ocean? Dwarven craftsmanship was legendary, so maybe, but doubt lingered.
"Is it possible to cross the ocean in a boat for six?"
"Impossible."
"Then?"
"We didn't come by boat. Our ancestors didn't take ships when they left the continent long ago, either."
"How did you cross the sea, then?"
"We flew."
Of course—there's always that option. I'd been stuck on the fixed idea that seas required ships.
But how?
"Did you build a ship that flies through the sky?"
"A sky-flying ship... well, you could see it that way."
Just then, a commotion stirred outside. Looked like my infiltration had been noticed. I'd already put the guards to sleep, though.
"Why don't you come with me?"
"Pardon?"
Their pupils trembled wildly. As if I'd treat them like Drakan did. I couldn't even breathe fire, so it wouldn't be that bad.
"Staying here means a lifetime under human watch. I'll take you somewhere without humans."
"B-but that place..."
"I swear, no Drakan there. And I have no intention of forcing you to do anything."
The most diligent workers were those who labored willingly. The best employer was one who inspired that drive.
"Could we discuss among ourselves for a moment?"
"I can't give you much time—the outside's getting noisy."
"Understood."
The dwarves huddled to confer. It meant nothing to me. They clearly weren't thrilled with their current lot, either. From afar, I made an offer they couldn't refuse.
"I promise: follow me, and I'll fetch every fine liquor the continent has to offer."
Not a lie. My Akasha Territory's wine cellar was stocked even now, barely touched since few vassals drank.
For an instant, their ears seemed to elongate like an elf's—a trick of the eye.
"Where is it? Let's go right now."
"Haha! We have no luggage."
Too good to turn down.
I teleported them to Akasha Territory first. Either dwarves were weak to spatial jumps or something, but they took ages to recover, shaking their heads after a while.
"We there?"
"No, this is Akasha Territory, where I'm lord—about midway on the Western Continent."
They mentally calculated the distance and nodded.
"As expected of a great race."
I didn't deny it. Easier to handle that way.
"We need to grab some things here, and since you came from the Eastern Continent, the destination's about the same distance."
I planned to send them to my villa on the New Continent. Safest spot, hidden from human eyes, perfect for secret work.
That's when Howard barged in.
"Hey! Back already?"
He had an uncanny knack for sensing my returns—not warrior instinct, but presence. I couldn't sense his, so probably not rank-related.
"What's with these runts?"
Howard's first sight of dwarves drew their ire.
"Insolent human!"
"I'll snap your spine and make you the runt!"
Wrong opponent. As Howard's eyes turned beastly and he exuded killing intent, the dwarves froze mid-swing.
"Dwarves. Don't eat them."
"Dwarves? These ancient ones?"
"Yeah."
My joke made them tremble all over. Howard poked at them curiously, worsening their state.
"Out. You're scaring them too much."
"Fine, fine."
Once Howard left, the dwarves collapsed in exhaustion.
"U-um, was that your kin?"
Even prone, one asked. Howard looked draconic to them, too.
"No. Does that land you crossed to lack such beings?"
"None. Absolutely none."
They shook their heads vigorously. I'd heard not just dwarves but other non-humans crossed over—yet no powerhouses? Eltis the vampire prince was strong enough; our territory's three Masters couldn't take him. The elf grand elder was similar. Were dwarf or other leaders weak?
"Rest up anyway. I'll grab some supplies."
I left them in the office and fetched essentials for New Continent life. They rolled on the floor till I returned, then sprang up.
"Let's go."
Teleported to the New Continent, they succumbed to spatial sickness again. Once recovered, they gawked at the unfamiliar landscape.
"Where's this?"
"New Continent, newly formed west of the Western Continent."
"Neeew?"
They hadn't heard. Come to think of it, their flying ship crash and drift might not stem from the outer gods' fight—I'd only rewound Eastern and Western Continent time.
I roughly explained the New Continent's sudden emergence and how human expeditions all failed.
"I see."
"Yeah, humans can't reach it."
The dwarves looked relieved.
"That sky ship? Unless humans suddenly invent it, they won't set foot here for ages."
"300 years at least."
To me, it was less tech than mindset. Grasping the idea of a flying ship was key. Humans would get there eventually. Dwarves underestimated human ingenuity.
"Live here and adapt for now."
I'd prepared it fully—water tanks, and I'd supply food occasionally.
"You really won't ask anything of us?"
"What would I ask?"
"N-no, nothing."
They didn't fully trust me yet. Time to earn it.
I pulled countless liquor bottles from my subspace. Their jaws dropped.
"Promise kept."
Ignoring me, they fixated on the hundreds of bottles. True liquor lovers—great makers otherwise, yet poor brewers. Drakan's tales and records said so.
"So, how far is that place you crossed to from here?"
"We... don't know exactly."
Ancestors flew east from the Eastern Continent for over a year. Mid-ocean, directions meant little—no precise distance or location. Same for their return: over a year in a small flyer, lost in storms, drifting.
A few suspicious bits, but they seemed honest.
"No desire to return home?"
"We do!"
"Then build that flyer. Request materials; I'll supply."
"Really?"
I nodded. I'd learn over their shoulders. New knowledge came rarely now.
They rattled off a messy list—mostly common stuff, rares easy for me.
"This enough to start?"
"Of course."
"How long?"
"Two of us... might take a bit."
Fine even if long. Their long-lived "bit" worried me, but not that long, surely.
"Materials soon. Explore the New Continent if bored."
Leaving them, I returned to the office—to find Howard and something odd there with him.