The Uninvited Guests
The air inside the castle was frozen, thick with tension. Bjorn, leading a group of dwarves, approached slowly, their shoulders weighed down by aluminum ladders and various unfamiliar objects. Their faces were smeared with fatigue and grime, and the weapons strapped to their waists—machetes, battle axes, and hammers—carried a chilling, lethal aura, as if they were ready to unleash a bloodbath at any moment.
Conversely, the group led by the Saintess Aria, who were suddenly facing these unexpected strangers, was clearly on edge. They were like fierce sheep, divided into conversionists and martyrs over the bread and salt provided by an Outer God, snarling at each other and branding one another as heretics.
However, when the unidentified armed force breached the castle walls, the nuns and children, as if by instinct, huddled together around Aria, forming a single, solid mass.
If this had been the peaceful era before the Great Calamity, they might have greeted them as neighbors from a different race encountered on the road. But this was the era of the unprecedented, chaotic, apocalyptic end-times, where morality and law had completely collapsed.
No one knew if the group of strange survivors before them would suddenly turn into cruel marauders, eager to snatch away their remaining food and shelter.
Aria stepped forward, shielding the trembling children behind her. Although she was on the verge of a mental breakdown from refusing the contract with the Outer God, she struggled to maintain the dignity and upright posture of a high-ranking saintess of the Order of Light in front of these strangers.
"Halt," Aria’s cold, firm voice echoed through the courtyard. "I am Aria, a saintess of the Order serving the God of Light, Lumen. You appear to be dwarf warriors who have braved a perilous journey, but who are you, and for what purpose have you crossed the walls of this ‘our’ fortress?"
At her question, the dwarf party stopped. Bjorn took his hand off his weapon, stroked his beard, and stepped forward.
"My name is Bjorn. I was a member of a minor clan that mined a small iron deposit on the outskirts of the Nine Peaks. And those behind me are my kin who survived the horrific destruction."
Bjorn scanned Aria and the gaunt nuns and children hiding behind her. He felt a secret relief that they weren't bloodthirsty, flesh-crazed marauders or corrupted beings, but he still chose his words with the utmost caution.
"This... it might sound quite blasphemous and strange to your ears, but we were guided here by a certain unknown Outer God. We followed the milestones that entity provided, and that is how we reached this castle."
As soon as the word "Outer God" left Bjorn's lips, Aria’s shoulders visibly flinched. A murmur rippled through the nuns behind her.
Aria bit her pale lips and retorted sharply.
"This is a sanctuary where the children of Lumen already reside and take refuge! If you have come to occupy this fortress as minions of an Outer God, you had best leave the walls while I am still asking nicely!"
However, Bjorn let out a dry laugh at Aria’s firm order to leave. His jagged scar twitched.
"Hah, Saintess, that’s quite a cold thing to say. Why is this old, crumbling, abandoned castle yours? Is your Order’s name written on the gate?"
Bjorn tapped the machete at his waist and pushed forward like a bulldozer.
"In this ruined world, let’s not be territorial among us poor survivors who have lost our way. Besides, your gaunt nuns alone won't be enough to hold back the monsters outside those walls. If our dwarven technology and martial prowess are combined, we can make the fortress's defenses much sturdier. So, let’s just lean on each other and live inside this castle together."
Aria was left speechless by Bjorn’s bold and realistic proposal. The castle was certainly not the property of Aria or her Order, and they lacked the power to forcibly expel these menacing, high-spirited dwarves.
Eventually, under Aria’s silent acquiescence, the precarious cohabitation of the two groups began.
And even though not a single day had passed since they started living together, the dwarves, having found a place to rest their weary bodies, could not hide their inherent racial instincts, despite being wounded and exhausted.
It was that terrible workaholic nature—the inability to stand seeing something broken, and the feeling of being unable to sit still if they weren't working.
"Hey, Torbi! Slap some mortar into that gap over there! Fill it thoroughly so not even a monster's claw can get in!"
Under Bjorn’s booming instructions, the dwarf warriors roamed the top of the walls, obsessively dedicated to repair work.
In their hands were not the soil and stone commonly used as construction materials in Eden, but rather exotic supplies. As soon as they entered the fortress, the Outer God had dropped off bags of cement, red bricks, and trowels for the mortar as if he had been waiting for them. The dwarves marveled at the fast-drying properties and hardness of the cement, which they were seeing for the first time, and perfectly patched up the holes in the walls that needed maintenance.
"Old man! Something strange fell over there again!"
Torbi shouted, pointing to a bundle of silver netting that had fallen from the sky.
Bjorn approached to check. There were coils of silver wire embedded with sharp thorns, and next to them lay several pairs of thick, tough rubber protective gloves.
Bjorn put on the gloves and carefully fiddled with the sharp barbed wire.
"Heh... this is a truly vicious and brilliant invention. It’s a defensive trap that tears the flesh of the enemy and tangles them up, ensuring they can never cross over."
Bjorn’s eyes flashed as he instantly grasped the purpose. Admiring the tough friction and safety of the protective gloves once more, he instructed the younger dwarves.
"Put on those gloves immediately and stretch this wire long along the outside of the wall! Install it in layers in the blind spots where those bastards might hook their claws and climb up!"
The dwarves moved in perfect harmony. The stretching barbed wire instantly surrounded the base of the wall and the approach path without a gap, constructing a brutal and solid silver defensive line.
"Phew..."
Having finished the urgent construction with just three people, even if it was a small castle, Bjorn leaned against the wall and exhaled deeply. He wiped the sweat from his brow and looked down at the murky river below the wall.
On the river, the corpses of the Kappa, who had been hit by the mold terror of the toad, were still floating, emitting a disgusting stench.
"It seems there are no immediate threats for now," Bjorn muttered. "But setting up defenses in advance is always best. Who knows when that crazy Outer God, the 'Seven Calamities' or whatever, might come charging in with new minions. Besides, this Outer God patron of ours wouldn't want to see us sitting around doing nothing."
He looked down at the barbed wire, smiled with satisfaction at the sturdy defense, and descended the wall stairs to the courtyard.
The scene in the castle courtyard was quite different from when they had first met. While Bjorn and the warriors were fixing the walls, the injured dwarves and the children did not unpack their belongings in the ward where Aria stayed or the chapel where the martyr nuns were. Instead, they took a large, empty, dilapidated food warehouse quite a distance away as their temporary shelter, busily dusting and cleaning it.
And, surprisingly, it wasn't just the dwarves doing the warehouse cleanup. A young nun from the conversionist faction and several nuns who followed her had rolled up their sleeves and were helping the dwarves organize their luggage.
"Thank you very much for your help, Sister. If we had unpacked by ourselves, it would have taken days, but thanks to you, it’s become much easier."
Bjorn bowed politely to the nun as he entered the warehouse.
The young nun brushed off her dusty apron and smiled back with a bright face. "Not at all. We are the ones who should be grateful. You’ve fixed the walls so sturdily and even installed those scary traps so the monsters can't get in, so for the first time in a while, we’ll be able to sleep comfortably tonight."
The nun glanced around cautiously, then stepped closer to Bjorn and lowered her voice.
"This must all be thanks to the grace and guidance of that great being who, though we don't know his exact name yet, generously provides everything we need."
She shook her head and sighed deeply. "Our Saintess really needs to let go of her stubborn faith and realize that fact soon. If she had just signed the contract that being offered, we wouldn't have had to go through all this trouble."
"A contract, you say?" Bjorn’s thick eyebrows twitched. He was surprised and curious that a formal contract had been offered to the Saintess's side.
"Yes. A parchment contract that emitted magic power along with light descended from the sky. But the conditions were truly extraordinary." The nun continued in an excited voice. "Setting aside the fact that he only asked for ordinary prayers and material tributes in exchange for guaranteeing our survival... he even included a special clause stating that if the God of Light we served ever returned, we could pay a reasonable amount of gold and silver as a penalty and return to our original faith at any time!"
She beat her chest as if frustrated. "Where in the world would you find a contract from a god that leaves such a generous exit strategy? Even the feudal contracts between the lowly serfs of Eden and the noble lords and knights aren't that generous! But the Saintess and the other nuns misunderstood it as the devil's deception and ended up making him so angry that he burned the contract."
Bjorn listened to the nun’s complaints in silence, clicking his tongue inwardly.
'A contract from a god that leaves an exit strategy. That’s certainly an unbelievable condition. But it’s almost too perfect and extraordinary, which makes me suspicious. I can't fathom what the true purpose of this unknown benefactor hiding behind this contract is.'
He thought that the condition of guaranteed survival and the ability to leave—no, withdraw—upon paying a penalty was a condition that would be quite tempting and swaying even for the dwarves.
Bjorn hid his complex thoughts and changed the subject. "By the way, you mentioned earlier... that the 'Seven Calamities,' the Outer God who owns those frog monsters outside, is also targeting the Saintess. How did that one propose to the Saintess? Did that one send a contract too?"
At that question, the young nun’s face crumpled instantly, and she shuddered with disgust.
"Oh, don't even mention it. That one doesn't use anything as sophisticated as a contract. He threatened the Saintess directly through the mouth of a Kappa..."
The nun rubbed her arms as if trying to suppress a gag reflex, looking creeped out.
"He kept saying things like 'become my plaything'... but the most chilling part was the way he addressed her. He kept obsessing over her, asking her to become his own 'Maman,' and laughing creepily! He’s a truly crazy, disgusting pervert, no doubt about it!"