The Dragon of the Dwarf Mine

The Dwarf Mine.

And ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a dragon...

Even as a hero, I couldn't guarantee a victory against a dragon, the strongest race on the face of the earth.

At first, I had considered explaining the situation to the dragon—telling it about the Demon King's invasion and asking if we could reopen the mine.

But dragons maintained strict neutrality, regardless of whether the Demon King's army or angels invaded the human realm. It was highly unlikely they would listen to reason.

Which left only one final option...

A fight.

Direct combat.

Even if I didn't kill the dragon, if I could inflict enough damage to drive it away, it would work. Dragons were notoriously self-preserving creatures; if pushed hard enough, it would surely flee on its own.

Of course, I had to be extremely careful.

Dragons were selfish, yet they possessed a fierce sense of solidarity. If I accidentally killed one, I might end up having to fight the entire dragon race. Killing it was absolutely out of the question.

Following my proposal...

Normally, dwarves were so fiercely proud that they would never beg for help, even from a hero. But they must have suffered terribly during this ordeal, because this time, they were the ones rushing to draft a contract.

Fortunately, that stubborn pride had its benefits.

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠terms they proposed in the contract were actually much better than what we had initially suggested.

Perhaps it was their way of framing it not as receiving charity, but as paying a fair price to commission our strength.

When Clara first received the draft, she was so shocked that she reread it several times.

The other dwarves who read the terms also seemed to agree, the general consensus being that such concessions were a small price to pay if it meant getting rid of the dragon. There seemed to be no major obstacles to finalizing the deal.

"May I add one more clause to this?" Clara asked.

"What else could you possibly want? I believe we have already been ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠more than generous," the chief replied, raising an eyebrow.

Clara began writing something at the very bottom of the document.

I wasn't sure what Clara was playing at, but the chief's reaction upon reading it was unexpected.

"Bwahahaha!"

The chief let out a hearty laugh, pointing at the bottom line of the contract to show the other dwarves nearby.

Clara gave a sheepish smile and spoke up.

"My brother told me to make sure to write this in if we ever drafted a contract."

"Well, well... He truly is an amusing human king."

It was common knowledge across the continent that dwarves loved beer, but I hadn't expected Clara to actually write it into the official terms.

"Fine! Excellent! I've dealt with many humans in my time, but none are as entertaining as those from the Arzen Kingdom. Hahaha!"

Satisfied with the terms, the chief signed the bottom of the contract first and slid it over to Clara.

Clara signed her name as well. She kept one copy of the contract and handed the other to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the dwarven chief.

"We depart tomorrow morning. Could you tell us the location of the mine where the dragon is nested?" I asked.

"As for that..."

The chief gestured to one of the dwarves standing behind him. The dwarf stepped forward and bowed to us in greeting.

"This is Barin, my cousin. He is one of the strongest warriors in our mine."

Barin, who sported a thick, bushy beard, walked up to us, thumped his chest, and introduced himself.

"I am Barin. I will guide you to the mine where the dragon is."

"Understood," I replied.

"When do we set out?" Barin asked.

"Early tomorrow morning."

Honestly, I would have preferred to take some time to prepare mentally, but the Arzen Kingdom was in a desperate race against time. We had to move as quickly as possible.

"We can't just sit around! We must throw a feast to wish you success!" the chief declared, rising from his seat.

Not to be outdone, Clara jumped up and chimed in.

"I figured you'd say that, so I brought plenty of beer from the kingdom. It should be arriving outside just about now."

"Oh! Magnificent! Truly, the Arzen Kingdom knows how to treat a dwarf!"

Deeply moved by Clara's words, the chief laughed even louder, his eyes darting toward the window.

That night, just as the chief had promised, a grand festival was held, bringing together every dwarf in the village. The town hall was packed with beer kegs and meat sent by Edwin, allowing everyone to eat and drink to their heart's content.

"Aha! How long has it been since we last had beer like this?!"

"Oh! This is the stuff! Arzen beer really is the best on the continent!"

It had clearly been a long time since the dwarves had enjoyed such a feast. Exclamations of joy echoed through the hall, and the beer disappeared almost as fast as the kegs were tapped.

"Are you Carlos, the hero?" a voice called out.

"Ah, yes. You're Mr. Barin, right?"

"What's with the 'Mr. Barin'? Just call me Barin."

"But... you clearly look much older than me..."

"Listen here. By dwarven standards, I'm roughly the same age as you."

"Ah... I see."

Barin, seemingly sensitive about his age, gave me a pointed look before chugging down the contents of his massive beer mug.

"Can you really take down a dragon?" Barin asked.

"We shouldn't kill it. If we do, we'll turn the entire dragon race against us. The plan is to inflict just enough damage to make it leave on its own."

"Right, right... That makes sense. Is there anything I can do to help inside? I may not look it, but I'm quite handy with this hammer."

Barin patted the massive hammer slung across his back, showing it off with pride. I offered a wry smile and waved my hand in refusal.

"No, that won't be necessary. My party and I can handle it, so please don't push yourself."

"Hah! Are you looking down on me? I'll have you know I've cracked open my fair share of ogre skulls in my day!"

Barin set his mug down and began swinging his heavy hammer around, showing off his strength.

"I might not be able to use magic, but I promise you I won't bring shame to the name of the dwarves."

"I understand. Then, once we enter the mine, could I ask you to assess the situation first?"

"Of course! You can count on me! Hahaha! Come, let's drink!"

Satisfied with my response, Barin raised his mug for a toast. I clinked my cup against his and took a sip.

"Hey! Barin!"

"Huh?"

"You're leaving tomorrow, so get over here and drink with us!"

"Alright, I'm coming!"

Hearing the other dwarves call out to him, Barin slung his hammer back over his shoulder and ran off.

I thought I could finally enjoy a quiet drink by myself, but then I noticed something.

Lucia was slipping away from the bustling party, heading off somewhere quiet.

Clara and Irene were completely absorbed in the festivities, but Lucia, who usually did well in these social settings, seemed out of place today.

An uneasy feeling washed over me. Unable to just sit there, I stood up and followed the direction she had gone.

"*Sob... sob...*"

It was the sound of someone weeping sorrowfully.

It was too dark to be absolutely certain it was Lucia, but the delicate, trembling voice undoubtedly belonged to a woman.

"Lucia?"

"*Sob...* C-Carlos?"

"Are you crying?"

As I drew closer, her figure came into view. Startled by my sudden appearance, she hurriedly wiped the tears from her eyes.

"You seemed off in the carriage earlier, too. Is something wrong?"

She had been perfectly fine when we checked into the inn yesterday. The only explanation for her behavior now was the nightmare she had suffered through last night.

"N-no, it's nothing."

"How is it nothing? You were just crying. What's going on? You can tell me."

"..."

Lucia hesitated, seemingly harboring a secret she couldn't easily put into words. She fidgeted, refusing to speak.

"Does it have to do with the nightmare you had last night?"

"..."

"Don't tell me... the anxiety disorder you mentioned having, similar to mine... is it related to that nightmare?"

My own condition had improved significantly, and I no longer suffered from the severe anxiety attacks of the past. But Lucia, though she tried to hide it, often had a shadow of sorrow behind her smiles.

"What happened, Lucia? Just like you helped me, let me help you. Can't we share whatever is troubling you?"

"..."

Lucia had done so much for me. She had listened to my worries, and whenever I felt down or on the verge of an anxiety attack, she would brew lavender tea and care for me with utmost devotion.

Seeing her in such pain made me desperate to help her in return.

I stepped closer, took both of her hands in mine, and asked once more.

"Lucia, let me help you. Whatever it is, I want to be there for you."

"Carlos..."

I felt something warm drop onto the back of my hands, which were holding hers tightly. It was a tear rolling down her cheek, spilling over my skin before dripping onto the ground below.

"Actually... in my dream last night..."

"Yes?"

"I saw the village where I grew up."

"Your hometown?"

"Yes..."

I was about to ask why dreaming of her hometown made her so sad, but before I could, Lucia opened her mouth and began to share her past.