Dwarves and the Workshop (1)

Iron and anvil. Hammer strikes. The heat of the furnace. Beyond the red flames, beads of sweat trickling down. In a word, all of that is the symbol of dwarves. A realm so distant that humans dare not even aspire to it. Thus, the items forged by dwarves are nothing but masterpieces. The flames kindled by a closed and exclusive race are surely thus.

And.

The one place where the footsteps of such dwarves lead—the Creasio Workshop. Perhaps there, one might encounter techniques passed down by dwarves for hundreds or thousands of years. It could even showcase new masterpieces born because a few dwarves, intrigued by human craftsmanship, took the first step. After all, a massive workshop built near the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠border must harbor such intent.

Of course.

More than that, one might confront the past of a certain aged dwarf.

Now, Asha had grown so accustomed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to it that she downed Aberly's potion like it was routine before drifting off to sleep. Even after leaving the hotel and hopping on a carriage heading east without a plan, she showed no discomfort—chugged the potion and started snoring softly.

As the carriage rumbled on and time passed, her sleep-talk soon reached my ears.

"Heehee... Ain...."

The driver's seat was pretty uncomfortable, but she insisted on sprawling across my lap anyway. Her murmurs reached only my ears before fading away.

"Heh, hee... It's... really not far now... Hmnya...."

"...."

No, what isn't?

"Brace yourself... Hee. Heh, Ain, heehee...."

Fuck, brace myself for what? And why?

I shuddered at the thought but couldn't help grinning as I stroked the head of the girl now fast asleep.

Truth be told, lately, every time I faced Asha's words or actions, a chill ran down my spine for no reason. She seemed exactly the same as three years ago, yet at certain moments, she showed something utterly different, making cold sweat break out. Instinct told me our distance felt similar, but one slip in vigilance and it closed in whoosh—terrifyingly close.

In other words.

"...Mm."

Her once-gentle gaze had grown strangely intense. The shy fidgeting of her fingers had morphed into something else. Her always-calm breaths would occasionally hitch and turn sticky. She kept licking her lips. Her crimson tongue flicked out, then slipped back in with a swish.

Putting it all together, it oddly resembled the traits of a beast eyeing its prey.

But even realizing that, there wasn't much I could do.

"Hee, Ain...."

"Yeah, yeah."

A mid-rank adventurer with nothing to his name defying the gray? That was absurd. All I could do was hope she'd keep following me, built on the trust and affection piled up since she was little.

"Ain... Hmnya...."

"Yeah, I'm right here."

So I stroked her head as she suddenly wrapped her arms tight around my waist, burying her nose in my stomach and sniffing deeply.

"Heehee...."

And her peculiar sleep habit dragged on for quite a while.

The carriage pressed on until nightfall, and even as the others prepared camp, she wouldn't let go. Unfortunately, with Asha still out cold, I couldn't easily start a fire or hunt.

But Horn came back from the woods grinning ear-to-ear, axe in hand—the one Asha had given him—hauling firewood and a wild game haunch, looking plenty satisfied.

Soon enough, the campfire crackled to life.

I kept patting the still-sleeping Asha on my lap, so dinner duty fell to the kids and Aberly.

"Ahh! Don't put that in, mister!"

"Yeah! You can't put potions in food!"

"B-but... it's a reagent that acts as... s-seasoning...."

The three huddled by the pot were, as always, making a racket.

""Last time you said it was seasoning and we all passed out!""

"I-if seven people eat it and all fall asleep without noticing... d-doesn't that mean it's that delicious...?"

""No it doesn't!""

So, as always, chaos ensued.

I watched the scene, saw it was hopeless, and murmured quietly while hugging Asha tighter.

"Keep messing with the food and you're really in for it."

I didn't single out Aberly with the warning.

""We didn't mess with it!""

"I-it's not messing around either...."

Anyone thinking straight would know that much.

"Twins, toss that mystery weed you're holding. Aberly, put away the potion vial."

Just a glance told me all three were hell-bent on making the most un-stew-like stew imaginable.

""Eeeeh....""

"Eileen, keep an eye on those three."

"Of course! Don't worry! I'm dead serious about food, you know? With that in mind—attention, all three! Tonight's dinner will be made under the watchful eye of this Eileen Prigias Delpinium!!"

Her being too serious about food was the problem, but as a noble, she treasured her meals, so it'd probably be fine.

Anyway, I left dinner to the four of them and pulled out the small golem.

Asking something vague like "how to change the world" would probably get a vague answer too.

"Hm... what should I ask, then."

"No, no. Not at all, so don't answer—just wait."

That was why I pondered so long every time I pulled out the golem. Unlimited questions were great, but a 90-day cooldown per use? Waste one on something dumb, and you're waiting three months.

As I mulled it over, Horn plopped down next to me with a thud and spoke up.

"What're you agonizin' over? You've got more than one shot, so start with the important shit."

"I don't know how to prioritize what's important."

Truth be told, I hadn't decided even when checking out of the hotel. I'd narrowed candidates in my head, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠but pinning one down was tough. Plus, I had to consider everyone else's questions too.

So, scratching my head sheepishly, Horn sighed in exasperation.

"Idiot. The top priority on our journey's always been that gray in your arms."

"Maybe for me, but you and the others might have different priorities...?"

"...What bullshit."

"Hey, I mean... Ow."

Horn smacked my head lightly as I kept hemming and hawing. Then, despite our eyes being level even if I stood—he was that short—he struck a pose with a hand on his stubby waist and finished dramatically.

"The woman right in front of you comes first. Solve your companion's problem before anything. It's just 90 days anyway."

"...."

"While you two were flirtin' up front, we sorted it out back here. Fix that suppressant-or-cure issue first, rookie."

As if on cue, the others messing with food glanced over. All grinning cheekily—annoying as hell.

"Ahem... Then the first question'll be about the ash suppressant."

I averted my eyes, embarrassed by their stares, and answered that way.

And then.

Shattering my thumping heart with needless emotion, their follow-up words were downright outrageous.

"But I want a billiards table, so next stop's the workshop. You're payin', rookie."

""Then get us fluffy mattresses!""

"Haha... I-I'd like some r-research materials...."

"Mm! In that case, me too, Eileen!"

Already broke, and these bastards trying to bleed me dry—I just plugged my ears after one line.

"Shut the fuck up."

Ignoring my rowdy companions, I hugged the still-sleeping Asha tight.

"Heehee, Ain...."

Wake up already and chew these idiots out.