Snake-Possessed Pickaxe Swing
“Oink! Oiink!”
These were the Steel Hogs that had been acting all cocky just moments ago. But the Coward trait wasn't there for nothing. They sensed the aura emanating from me and began backing away little by little.
I recalled that the ham I'd eaten at the tavern was made from Steel Hog meat. It had been delicious. The thought made a single drop of saliva drip from my mouth.
“Oiiink!”
The Steel Hog at the front flopped over backward. Ever since I'd tamed over a hundred monsters, the rank of my Monster Pack Leader achievement had risen significantly. Even so, their reaction was more dramatic than I'd expected. Some were so terrified they pissed themselves.
Come to think of it, the monsters from the Monster Wave had even drooled at the sight of me. There really was a difference between wild monsters and these ones.
Anyway, I needed to scare them enough to crush their spirits completely. This wasn't quite sufficient yet.
That's when it happened. One small Steel Hog turned tail and bolted in a panic. But it wasn't hiding—it ran straight to the large Steel Hog watching me from behind. It rubbed its head frantically against the big one, acting all cute and clingy.
The massive Steel Hog slowly approached. It had impressively protruding tusks.
Traits
Pack Leader, Tyrant, Coward
“It's the pack leader,” Dungkel warned softly.
I could tell from the status window alone. It didn't flinch at me and stamped its foot, looking ready to charge at any moment.
But I could see right through it. Even the Coward trait plastered right there in its characteristics.
Perfect. Time to use Crown of Conquest. I poured in more than half my recovered mana in one go.
Giantification lv1
My body swelled up enormously. Dungkel, and even the old dwarf who had been pretending to be indifferent while repairing the fence, dropped his hammer with a clunk.
But the Steel Hogs' reactions were the real spectacle. My enlarged shadow loomed over them.
“Saaak!”
With one roar, the boars froze stiff like a herd of goats. Even the Steel Hog leader, which had been so bold moments before, was the same. The one shitting itself in pellets seemed utterly overwhelmed by me.
No need to show off my skills after all.
Crown of Domination lv1
My goal was to tame them.
Partial success in dominating Steel Hog King lv14.
Success in taming Steel Hog King lv14.
Was it mental submission? I could at least partially dominate it. That meant I could move the leader as I wished.
At my will, it knelt. The other Steel Hogs followed their leader and knelt similarly. Even after I released Giantification, they didn't budge.
I slithered up to the Steel Hog leader and stroked its forehead.
Let's get along, okay?
“Oink...”
Just eat your food and behave. Don't mess with the dwarf old man. That was my command.
The difference between taming and domination. Taming a monster didn't mean I could control it at will—especially not with language-barrier beasts. But partial domination let me relay orders to the Steel Hog leader.
No worries now.
I messaged Dungkel. He still couldn't believe what was happening.
The old dwarf approached from afar, having dropped his hammer. He came close and spoke cautiously.
“Snake...”
He'd ignored me at first, but now his tone had changed.
“Will you meet Bluebeard... and kill him?”
Who knows. Not certain yet. I tried to shake my head, but Pellelian chimed in.
—If he brazenly brushes off the contract breach, that could happen.
So maybe I would. Unsure how to respond, I just shrugged my shoulders—or rather, shrugged my head since I didn't have shoulders.
“I see... Wait a moment, Dungkel.”
The old man hurried off and returned with something: a tool belt loaded with gear and a pickaxe. The pickaxe especially caught my eye. It could switch heads to a shovel—impressive dwarf craftsmanship.
“Take this.”
“Isn't this... your tool, Grandpa?”
“Yeah, but to go below, you'll have to play miner too, right?”
Had my display changed the old man's mind? I couldn't tell why.
“When you meet Bluebeard,” the old man's black eyes held an inscrutable emotion, “give him one chance. The poor fool.”
I didn't reply. He didn't seem to expect one. He turned to Dungkel.
“Go!”
His voice boomed. The beardless dwarf born in the mines, who raised pigs. The kind-hearted Dungkel who loved gardening. The day had finally come for him to descend into the depths of fire and steel.
Dwarf mines dotted the continent. Especially those in the mountains. Red Anvil Mine was no exception.
The “red” moniker often implied blood, but to dwarves, it meant something else: usually iron ore. Likely from oxidized, rust-red iron ore.
Thus, Red Anvil Mine produced lots of iron. But like most mountain mines, it had various ores. True to its demonic nature, deeper digs revealed mystical ores.
Among them, the most unique was bone crystal. I'd heard bone crystal had been found a few months ago in a branch tunnel off the western underground mine.
Bone crystal was ivory-white and incredibly hard. True to its name, it was metal formed from creature bones compressed by time and mana.
“Metal” wasn't wrong—you could heat it red-hot without burning and hammer it into shape. Wondering how it formed was awe-inspiring. Probably from some colossal beast's bones. A fist-sized piece must've been ten times larger originally.
The phrase “mountains as the continent's spine” might be literal.
Dwarves mining tunnels were miners and warriors. Surface monsters lurked in the mountains, but underground ones too: moles, bats, sightless insect monsters constantly threatening dwarf lives.
Surviving miners had slain countless such beasts—with pickaxes, sometimes shovels.
The dwarves resting before the bone crystal tunnel were battle-hardened veterans. Part of Trall's clan, young dwarves under him.
“Ugh, wanna head up and chug a beer already.”
A dwarf wiped mine dust from his face with his arm.
Once you descended, it took a week to return.
“These punks, down just days and already whining.”
The senior-most among them scolded. Manjin, one of the most skilled miners alongside Trall.
The young dwarves looked sheepish.
“Manjin-senior's amazing. Our hands are shaking like this.”
Swinging pickaxes all day strained the arms. Most dwarves' hands trembled even at rest. But Manjin was fine.
“It's that snake brew I had recently.”
He boasted confidently.
“Snake brew...!”
“Ah, the one from that oak barrel.”
They'd heard the tale multiple times, but the juniors' eyes sparkled anew. Booze stories always hooked them—especially mystical snake brew.
“Yeah, at first my limbs went numb.”
Seemed the beer had snake venom mixed in. Manjin had shown mild poisoning, but the next day, things improved.
“See.”
He rolled up his sleeve, flexing impressive muscles—snake brew effect or not.
“Had wrist tendonitis forever, but it's gone. Power surging like crazy.”
“So jealous...”
“Tasted the best too. Never had ale like that.”
Trall's gang's snake brew story had become legend. Many dwarves hoped to meet that snake again.
Rest over, they headed back to the plaza. They usually bunked in miners' dorms. Rinse in underground water, rest—that was the routine.
But today, the plaza bustled more. A young dwarf following Manjin spotted someone.
“Isn't that Dungkel?”
Gazes turned. Hood up, but the beardless face stood out. Pickaxe and shovel on his back.
Dwarves scowled.
“What the hell's Dungkel doing down here?”
A young dwarf muttered. Dungkel was much older, but no respect there.
“Gonna try mining?”
“Pickaxe says yes.”
“Crazy bastard. Shoulda stuck to pigs forever.”
The speaker spat disdainfully. Manjin didn't scold.
Young dwarves hated Dungkel especially. Laughable since none had even talked to him, but understandable. Beardless, hairless, no mining, preferred plants over meat. To cocky youths, he'd seem weak and pathetic.
Plus, elders pitying and protecting him backfired.
“You punk! Think I gotta let you in just 'cause you want? Never swung a pickaxe.”
The overseer was another Dungkel-hater. Crowds gathered to watch his humiliation.
“Cheeky hood... Ack!”
The overseer yanked his hand back in shock. A snake—me—poked from Dungkel's clothes.
“W-what snake!”
“Ah, my friend.”
“Crazy fuck!”
Laughter erupted nearby.
“M-Manjin-senior. That snake...”
“...”
“The one you mentioned?”
Manjin nodded, stunned. The snake from their drinking session was there.
“Knew you were nuts usually, but...”
The dwarf overseer glared at Dungkel and me.
Cowardly jerk— I wasn't even gonna bite, yet he flinched alone.
I descended to the lower levels with Dungkel. To meet Bluebeard, we had to go to the deepest core first.
I wanna meet Bluebeard! Apparently couldn't just say that for a direct audience. King's life, unavoidable.
Problem: couldn't go straight to the core. Only his direct subordinates or Meister-recognized artisans could approach Bluebeard.
The old mine boss who'd worked with Dungkel wrote an intro letter—like one to a Meister for Bluebeard access.
That old man must be high-status. Why herd pigs topside? No clue.
“I hate you, Dungkel.”
The overseer eyed Dungkel pickaxe-handed with hostility.
“Lifetime mining dodger shows up with a pickaxe now? Straight to core? Think mining's easy?”
“I don't think so.”
Dungkel was cowed but not groveling. Good boy.
“You're incompetent. Can't even dig properly.”
The overseer scoffed at Dungkel's mining bid.
“I'll work hard.”
“Hard ain't enough. Don't burden others.”
“I can do well.”
“Prove it.”
“...Pardon?”
“Dig this wall.”
He thumbed the ochre sandstone beside him.
“Can't swing a pickaxe?”
“No, I'll try.”
Split rock with pickaxe, shovel and haul dirt. Tunnel basics.
Dungkel gripped the pickaxe tensely. Not hard in theory, but eyes everywhere. Miners arms-crossed to watch.
Sneers as he gripped it.
“Look at that stance.”
“Shit-shoveler thinks, hahaha.”
Overseer smirked, expecting this.
“Do it!”
Dungkel gritted teeth. Swung.
Thud!
Not amazing, not awful.
Thud, thud.
Spectators jeered or sighed mockingly. Unless stellar, Dungkel was doomed to scorn.
Overseer about to nitpick—then a large rock popped free, dirt crumbling.
Rumble-rumble—
Overseer lowered his hand. Dungkel swung silently.
Thud, rumble. Rock and dirt poured wherever he struck. Tunnel forming without shovel. Speed blistering.
“What...”
True pros eyed weaknesses, shattered walls effortlessly. Dungkel's swings nailed it. Wall vanishing fast—work for five miners.
Dungkel paused.
“...Am I a genius?”
I tail-smacked his cheek.
“Saaak!”
Snap out and dig faster! Crowd jaws not wide enough yet.
Dungkel resumed. I cast again.
Beginner Elemental Magic: Earth lv6
Transparent Hand lv11
Earth magic crumbled the wall. Transparent Hand churned rocks. Looked exactly like a god-possessed pickaxe.
Dwarf miners' jaws dropped wider at the flashy display.