Chapter 98
Chapter 98
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 98
Chapter Title: 32. The Fisherman's Profit (2)
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The dwarf and the elf made no reply. But neither did they raise any objections.
They had no choice but to stay silent.
It was tied to a vow from ages past that they were bound to uphold.
"This is merely following the natural order."
Those were the words I left for the world through the mouth of one of the five electors representing humanity, Sword Marquis Agnes Bayern—a sacred pact forged by the surviving leaders of all races when the great war finally ended in the distant past.
"Fairies to the forests, dwarves to the depths below."
It was a line from the Armistice Declaration.
"Right. Such words were spoken."
Turka nodded matter-of-factly and glanced at Sigrun.
Her face still wore a smile, but she couldn't hide the displeasure lurking beneath it.
Humans and dwarves had gathered here alongside fairies, but the fairies alone were the sole losers among us.
Humans had lived like slaves or livestock, only to emerge victorious and claim dominion over the continent.
The dwarves had neither won nor lost; they had chosen to withdraw to end the war.
Only the fairies had fought and been defeated, signing a peace treaty as the vanquished.
For the arrogant elves, it was a history of utter humiliation. It would have been stranger if my words hadn't irked her.
But no matter how displeased she was, she couldn't overturn my words. Not even as a monstrous elder high elf who had lived a thousand years.
No—precisely because of that, she couldn't break the covenant.
She had been one of the sixty-four high elves whose names were etched into the Armistice Declaration.
If she denied her kind's pact of her own accord, she would lose much in the process.
That was the nature of covenants between those of elevated status.
As expected, Sigrun raised no objection to my words. The hardline stance that she would even go to war rather than neighbor a stinking dwarf was gone.
She simply listened in silence, then quietly vanished.
"I thought we'd have to fight a proper war. Glad it worked out thanks to you."
Once Sigrun was gone, Turka chuckled heartily and spoke to me.
"I never imagined there'd be a human who still remembered the ancient covenant."
I smirked at his words laced with admiration.
He'd never suspect that the fragment of the ancient covenant I quoted was something I myself had authored.
The seeds I had sown across the world were usually like that—no one knew I had been there, or that I had been involved.
And I myself hadn't known. Who would have thought I'd one day reap the benefits of a seed I'd planted, in this very way?
"Fairies to the forests, dwarves to the depths below."
I repeated the covenant's phrasing once more. From no one's lips but my own.
"Very well. Very well."
Turka took up my words.
"I accept your proposal. We shall establish our clan's kingdom anew beneath this land."
With the issue of the new forge half-resolved, he seemed in high spirits.
But while the site for the new forge was settled, our business wasn't done yet.
"Before that, we settle accounts."
Turka burst into boisterous laughter at my words.
"Of course! We must! And we will!"
Turka was still laughing.
"We dwarves aren't faithless folk like those flashy elves on the surface. Since you've taken risks for us, we'll pay the appropriate price..."
But that lasted only a moment. Seeing my expression, Turka's face slowly hardened.
"The appropriate price..."
Joy faded, replaced by stark unease.
"Will ten master-forged famed swords do?"
I hummed teasingly as I watched him.
"Or perhaps a hundred suits of dwarven armor?"
I forcibly suppressed the grin tugging at my lips.
"I wonder what price fits for earning the grudge of a millennium-old elder high elf."
Turka's stiffened face turned ashen black.
**
With business concluded, there was no need to linger.
I returned straight to the fortress and gathered Winter Castle's leadership, including Vincent, for a meeting.
"It's useless land anyway. And underground at that—what's there to fear?"
Winter Castle's leaders had no qualms about having dwarves as neighbors.
On the contrary, they were thrilled at the prospect of famed smiths nearby and unanimously approved the dwarves' relocation.
That was it.
They saw it as simply lending out worthless land, nothing more. No one thought to demand compensation.
"We've given up even useless land, so we should get something in return."
Vincent, as lord, was the only one to mention payment.
"Payment in the form of...?"
"Ten dwarven master swords!"
The problem was how pathetically stingy that "payment" was.
"Ooh! Ten dwarven swords!"
"As expected of the Ballerhard family head—such magnanimity!"
The male leaders raised their thumbs high, showering Vincent with praise.
"Couldn't we get a spear or two as well?"
"No, while we're at it, we should demand five suits of armor. Gotta have the full set."
Quian slyly slipped in his selfish proposal, and another knight chimed in with his own desires.
"Spears and armor included, then."
Applause poured toward Vincent, who puffed up his chest proudly. The one-eyed cavalry captain clapped until his palms nearly blistered.
"Truly our lord!"
I couldn't help but laugh in disbelief.
Mountain-sized brutes getting all excited over such petty demands.
"Act worthy of your size."
The rowdy men finally shut their mouths at my words.
"A border count overseeing the entire North, and the best you can say is ten swords? Pathetic."
Vincent shot to his feet in protest.
"Your Highness must not know their value, staying cooped up in the palace..."
"How much value?"
"Ch-cheap gold won't buy them. They're priceless!"
From his vague response, he clearly had no idea of their actual worth. He just vaguely assumed they were dream weapons any knight would kill for, so price was whatever the seller named.
"Pitiful."
Vincent bristled at my scolding, but I cut him off first.
"Knowing you'd be like this, I've already demanded generously on your behalf."
The men of Winter Castle looked at me with eager anticipation.
"So what did you get as payment?"
"Swords, spears, shields, armor."
"Not far off from what I thought."
Vincent grumbled and asked,
"How many, then?"
To his lukewarm tone, I held up a single finger.
"One each?"
I shook my head.
"Ten?"
Another shake.
The men of Winter Castle widened their eyes. One ventured cautiously,
"Th-then, surely not..."
"A hundred."
At my answer, the men clamped their mouths shut in unison.
"A hundred total?"
Vincent finally stammered, breaking the silence after a long pause.
"A hundred each, obviously!"
Silence fell again.
"A hundred swords, a hundred spears, a hundred suits of armor."
Only after spelling it out repeatedly did the men find their voices.
"N-no way!"
"A hundred dwarven weapons each?!"
Amazement quickly turned to cheers.
"Long live First Prince Your Highness!"
"As expected of Your Highness!"
Those who had praised Vincent's "magnanimity" moments ago now hailed me.
Vincent's face twisted bitterly. But soon enough, he joined the others in the uproar.
And I hadn't even mentioned the real prize yet.
"There's more."
I pushed away the men who looked ready to kiss me and continued.
"The dwarves will handle all repairs to Winter Castle's gates, towers, and walls damaged in the last war."
The cheering men stared at me in confusion.
"And once repairs are done, the dwarves' greatest weapon will be stationed at Winter Castle."
"Th-their greatest weapon?!"
The leaders looked faint.
"What is it?"
Only after a while did someone ask what it was.
"Iron cannons (鐵砲—Artillery)."
The men tilted their heads at my answer. They clearly had no idea what an iron cannon was.
Which was only natural.
Even in an era when military prowess ruled the world, few humans knew of these fearsome weapons that spat fire and hurled iron.
Fewer still understood their true power.
And I was one of that rare few. I'd even witnessed their might firsthand.
It was an iron cannon that had dragged a rampaging sky dragon that shredded expedition forces from the air down to the ground.
"The dwarves will explain it themselves later."
I said with a grin.
I could hardly wait to see the faces of Winter Castle's men when they witnessed the iron cannon's power with their own eyes.
No doubt quite a few would piss themselves.
"Vincent. When they demonstrate its power, stand at the front."
"Ooh! If you grant me the honor, I am at your service."
I laughed long and hard at Vincent's oblivious, beaming grin.
**
The meeting ended, and Winter Castle's leaders dispersed.
"Vincent."
I grabbed him as he moved to leave.
And told him of another concession I hadn't mentioned in front of the others.
"A dungeon..."
Vincent frowned.
Dungeons in common tales were nests of evil wizards or demon lairs from old stories. That's how Vincent saw it too.
Hence his aversion to building one under the territory.
"Is there any reason to build that in our lands? It gives me the creeps."
He added that only moles needed to dig underground, and that such things were for those with secrets to hide and nothing to be proud of.
"You've forgotten."
I said, eyeing him.
"We're the ones with plenty of secrets and nothing to be proud of."
Five hundred knights trained in defiance of treaties, future mages, stockpiled war supplies and more—we had no shortage of things to conceal.
For us, a dungeon was essential. Nowhere was better suited for keeping secrets.
Besides, security wasn't the only reason we needed one.
With the dwarves' relocation accepted, it was only a matter of time before their kingdom sprouted at the northwest edge.
And when that happened, the dungeon would serve as a gateway city linking the dwarves' subterranean realm and Ballerhard.
Any goods bound for their kingdom would have to pass through my dungeon.
Even better, the dungeon would become the North's most covert route, letting Ballerhard troops traverse underground passages free of blizzards or storms—unknown to all.
With such immense advantages, rejecting the dungeon's construction over mere unease would be foolish.
And Vincent wasn't a fool.
Quickly calculating the military benefits of the underground passages, he thrust up a thumbs-up at me.
"Build that damn dungeon to your heart's content."
With Ballerhard's head's approval, the pact between the dwarves—brokered by me—and the North was sealed.
"We shouldn't have given up the iron cannons."
No one paid heed to the dwarves' grumbling about being fleeced by the wrong opponent.
And several days after the successful pact with the dwarves, deep one night, an uninvited guest visited my chambers.
"Your Highness, favoring another woman when you have a fiancée is hardly wise."
The mad elf, still sore over the borderlands issue, had come to me.
"I've been waiting."
I welcomed her.
"For me?"
To her puzzled frown, I replied innocently.
"I've settled with the dwarves, but not yet with the elves."
She crossed her arms and eyed me, as if daring me to speak my mind.
So I did, freely.
"Now, I've averted war with those rampaging dwarves—what will the elves pay to settle the score?"