Chapter 29
Chapter 29
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 29
Chapter Title: Alpenheim Territory
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“Pardon? You've come to see the Lady?”
“Yes. That's right.”
Piesita Barony Lady.
At Cordelia's words, Luca—the knight guarding the family—scratched his cheek, looking quite troubled.
“The Lady isn't here right now...”
“...Pardon?”
Unfortunately, the timing didn't line up.
The Gracia Kingdom was protected by five great ducal houses.
Ankaras in the north.
Dracoil in the northeast.
Bark in the southeast.
Claudia in the southwest.
Alpenheim in the northwest.
With these five pillars supporting it, the Gracia Kingdom was at the height of peace.
...Or so it was from the royal family's perspective.
In truth, it was hard to say all five houses had sworn unconditional loyalty to the crown.
'At least our Lady doesn't seem to hold any goodwill toward the royal family.'
Eve Claudia clashed with the royals. She brushed it off as the old geezer king constantly summoning her, but Enri didn't buy it.
He could sense a fierce resentment and hostility toward the crown emanating from her. The kind of burning hatred a commoner might unleash upon the noble who slaughtered their family.
It was an emotion too intense to dismiss as mere annoyance.
'Well, we're not the only ones.'
Of course, Claudia wasn't the only house among the five big ones at odds with the crown. The northern Ankaras and the southeastern Bark showed little loyalty to the royals either.
The north was too busy clashing with demons beyond the great mountain range to care about such things, while the southeast held the kingdom's only sea route to foreign lands.
They didn't openly defy the crown, but in not feeling any need for it, they weren't all that different from Claudia.
That said, if there were disloyal houses, there were bound to be loyal ones too.
And the Alpenheim house they were headed to was one such example.
“—Lady.”
“What now?”
“Are you in the camp that thinks female dwarves are just beardless dwarves, or the camp that thinks they're short with big chests?”
“...What kind of idiotic nonsense is that?”
Eve scowled at Enri's question and shot back. Enri just shrugged lightly.
“Well, I've seen dwarves before, sure. But never a female one. You haven't either, right Lady?”
“Well... true.”
“See? Female dwarves are super rare. That's why there's always debates about what they look like.”
Female dwarves were a rare sight. Dwarves as a race were uncommon enough, but the stereotype of them as a craftsmen race played a big part too.
In this era, artisan was a male-only profession. Female artisan was about as alien a concept as goblin academy professor.
Naturally, people who'd never laid eyes on one loved to debate the topic.
“I bet on the latter. That female dwarves are a short, busty, cute race.”
“...Okay, I get it up to here. I get why you'd spout stupid crap like that, and why idiots in my own knights debate this garbage. But.”
Eve stared at Enri, utterly baffled.
“Why the hell do you keep yapping this garbage at me?”
“Wanna bet? On which one's right.”
“What?”
Eve let out a dramatic sigh before nodding eagerly.
“Fine. If I win, promise you'll never spout this crap again.”
“Deal. If I win, you wear traditional dwarven garb for me.”
“Are you out of your freaking mind???”
As Eve burst into incredulous laughter, the train pulled into Alpenheim.
The kingdom's one and only territory ruled by another race.
“Welcome, Claudia Duke's Lady.”
Upon arriving at the territory and heading straight to the lord's castle, the two were greeted by the master of Alpenheim territory: Brundal Alpenheim. Lord of the domain and former king of the dwarves.
He had personally relinquished his crown and sworn fealty to the first Gracia king. Unlike the elves, he had been granted both survival and a territory.
Even Eve—who had seized de facto control of her duchy at a young age and was riding high—couldn't underestimate him lightly.
Eve offered her greetings in perfect accordance with royal etiquette.
“Greetings to the greatest artisan.”
“Hahaha! Hearing that from you, Lady, makes my beard itch all over!”
“I never dreamed you'd come out to greet us yourself.”
After exchanging pleasantries, Brundal tilted his head at Enri standing behind Eve. The knight's condition looked downright odd at a glance.
“Hmm. What's wrong with that one?”
“No need to mind him. He's just a dimwitted knight with nothing but air between his ears.”
Enri's eyes were vacant, like his soul had fled, as he kept mumbling unintelligible nonsense like “Electri... Electri...” Brundal had no clue what it meant, but it didn't take long for him to stop caring.
Humans spoke more through their bodies than their mouths, after all. A dwarf of Brundal's caliber could discern a man's entire life and the ordeals he'd endured just by looking at him.
And through the eyes of such a master artisan dwarf, what was Enri's flesh? It bore an indescribable geometric beauty etched within.
'Incredible. Can a human body even be like this?'
The human body was akin to a consumable good. No matter how you trained it, traces always remained. Like a master smith hammering steel into a sword. When a great teacher met bone-grinding hardship, it forged a body like a peerless blade.
In that sense, among all the knights Brundal had ever seen, the most beautiful physique had been Theodor Balheim's. Captain of the Royal 1st Knights and Captain of the Guard—the kingdom's greatest swordsman's body gleamed like a masterwork blade.
Compared to that, Enri's body? Not a single trace anywhere. Yes. No traces whatsoever!
'How? How can a body like this...?'
To use an example: a meteor crashes from space, and inside is a sword as beautiful as a gem—tougher and sharper than any famed blade. It defied all common sense. Enri's body was exactly that.
And at the same time—Brundal realized why Eve Claudia had bothered coming to him personally. Right, with a knight like this, who could resist showing him off...
“Indeed, Claudia Lady. Well come. For a knight of that caliber, only Alpenheim mountain-forged blades will do. I'll put in a special word for you.”
“Pardon? Ah, yes. Thank you...”
Eve was utterly baffled, but whatever. The lord of a city famed for its artisans was offering to craft a sword—who turns that down? Enri had been going through blades like crazy lately anyway, so they needed a new weapon.
She'd take what she could get. Having secured the sword commission, Eve finally got to her real purpose.
“The reason I came today is none other than—”
“...Not the sword?”
“Would I really trek all the way here just for a sword? Deliveries work fine these days...”
Anyway.
Eve picked up where she'd left off.
“It's not the duke I have a special request for, but you personally, Elder Brundal.”
“Hmm... What is it?”
“This.”
With that, she handed over the blueprint she'd prepared in advance. Brundal took it and scanned it with his eyes, running the calculations in his head. How the finished product would operate, what it was meant for.
Once finished, Brundal cocked his head in confusion.
“A device for making things? But it's peculiar. With this structure, no need to make it anywhere near this big, right?”
“It's fine. I've got ways.”
“You don't plan to run something this size entirely on magic stones, do you? The costs would swallow the profits whole.”
“Is it impossible to make?”
“Not impossible, but...”
Brundal eyed Eve like he couldn't fathom why she'd want something like this. Enri, peeking at the blueprint from behind, shot Eve a look like she was the devil incarnate.
It was a machine for the factory they planned to build in Claudia Duchy. No profitability on magic stones, but swap in a steam engine running on coal and oil, and it would print money.
Did these dwarves realize?
In short order, this devil's tool would steal every last one of their jobs.