Chapter 45
Chapter 45
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 45
Chapter Title: Storm's Eve (1)
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I stared blankly at the massive army filling my vision, my expression utterly dazed.
The war wasn't over yet. There were just too many of them, and they were overwhelmingly strong.
They knew no fear. No matter how many I cut down, their endless advance wore me down until I finally collapsed.
It was a moment of absolute peril—when an angel of salvation descended from the heavens to the earth.
She had radiant golden hair shining like the sun and ruby-red eyes that sparkled brilliantly. She was an angel who somehow looked familiar.
The angel extended a hand as pale and flawless as white jade toward me, a beautiful smile playing on her lips.
"My lord, it's time to get up and get to work. You have mountains of tasks waiting."
"Ah."
Now that I looked closer, she wasn't an angel at all—she was a devil. A devil come to drag me straight to hell.
Still, thanks to her, I finally snapped out of it. Not that I harbored any grudges.
I wiped the drool from my mouth and dazedly surveyed my surroundings. The first thing I noticed was a steadfast mountain, utterly immovable.
...Upon closer inspection, it wasn't a mountain—it was paperwork. Filthy piles of it, stacked high.
It seemed I'd meant to rest my head for just a moment and ended up passing out completely.
I wiped the drool from my mouth and naturally picked up the topmost document.
"The wyverns are short on feed, so we need to let them graze in the Magic Realm to forage... Just how much do these things eat?"
"It's enough to feed a hundred wyverns, my lord. Even Renheim Territory can't handle that right now."
"Right, then we'll have no choice but to approve it."
"Viscount Harvan has requested budget for fortress repairs."
"...There are too many places that need money."
No matter how much I processed, the endless workload made my spirit waver.
I'm not lazy, nor do I lack ability.
Yet somehow, the work piled up into mountains. There were two reasons for it—not just one.
The first one.
My predecessor had botched everything. Ruling a territory already comes with far more tasks than you'd imagine.
With the previous lord leaving a mess, of course the work would pile up...
And the second reason was the war.
The war with the wyverns had ended in our victory, and subjugating them had brought tangible benefits.
But setting aside the damages from the war, maintaining the wyverns was no easy feat.
'The amount of livestock they consume daily as feed is beyond imagination.'
Even assuming just one cow per meal, three times a day, that was a whopping three hundred cows.
Three hundred cows vanishing every single day. No way Renheim Territory could sustain that on its own.
On top of that, the war with the wyverns had inflicted no small damage.
'Above all, the territory's capacity is too limited. No merchants passing through Renheim, no engineers—construction is out of the question, and even repairs are barely manageable.'
That was why I'd had no choice but to permit the wyverns to hunt.
The Magic Realm's territory was vast, teeming with an enormous variety of flora and fauna.
Not just the wyvern issue, but road construction, repairing worn facilities, and more—my head ached with problems when unexpected guests arrived who could solve them all.
"So... what tribe did you say you were from?"
"The Red Hammer Tribe. We were exiled by our fellow allies in the Alliance."
"I see."
They were short in stature but packed with muscle that belied their size, sporting thick beards. Dwarves.
The dwarven kingdom they had founded was part of the Alliance, but the Red Hammer Tribe had been banished from it.
I wondered what they'd done to get exiled, but I wasn't in a position to be picky right now.
In the guest room prepared for visiting dignitaries, I sat face-to-face with the Red Hammer Tribe's chieftain.
"Let's cut to the chase. You were living comfortably in the Magic Realm—why come all the way to Renheim Territory?"
"I like a straightforward man. I'll be just as frank. The balance in the Magic Realm has completely shattered."
"Because I subjugated the wyverns?"
"Exactly. The Four Great Powers aren't just names called out for show."
The Four Great Powers were apex predators, serving as a bulwark that kept even the Empire and Alliance from easily encroaching on the Magic Realm.
With one of those Four Great Powers subdued, the balance was inevitably broken.
In other words, now that the balance was shattered, the races living in the Magic Realm had no choice but to pick a side.
The Empire or the Alliance. Naturally, the Red Hammer Tribe had chosen the Empire.
'It was so tempting I nearly accepted without any conditions.'
Swiftness and caution—demanding both is what makes being a lord so difficult.
Renheim Territory desperately needed engineers and builders right now. And dwarves were the best in the field.
We had to recruit them by any means necessary. But there was a catch.
"What exactly did you do to get banished from the Alliance?"
The Red Hammer Tribe were exiles. Being banished meant... they had plenty of skeletons in their closet, obviously.
Of course, they might have been falsely accused, which was why I was checking.
The Red Hammer chieftain answered coolly, as if it were no big deal.
"Simple. We have the power to turn living beings into iron."
"Turn living beings into iron?"
"That's right. The stronger the life force, the tougher and higher-quality the iron."
My face—and those of Morgana and Anna listening beside me—stiffened. How to put it.
It felt like dealing with a mad craftsman. One who valued their work over life itself.
And the way he said it so casually, without a hint of guilt.
"Could you use that power in combat?"
"Impossible. It requires melting them down in molten metal—not suited for battle."
"I see... Very well, you're accepted."
"My lord, are you sure about this?"
Anna rarely showed such disgust as she looked at me. It was understandable.
But we had no other options. We needed not just any engineers, but skilled ones who worked fast.
That said, I had no intention of letting the Red Hammer Tribe roam free without conditions.
Suddenly, a sinister black aura rose from my body, overwhelming them.
A thick killing intent that even dwarfed the malice these Red Hammer dwarves had endured in the Magic Realm.
"But if you ever dare kill my people in my territory even once..."
Then I'd claim tenfold their blood price.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Are you really sure about this?"
The negotiations had concluded dramatically. On the condition that they never use life-forging arbitrarily.
Naturally, this sparked considerable discontent and anxiety among the tribesmen. It wasn't unreasonable—life-forging was how they'd survived in the Magic Realm.
They'd capture enemies alive, forge them into iron for fortresses and weapons, and keep fighting.
Even that had its limits, forcing them to attach themselves to one of the Four Great Powers eventually.
"Is not being able to use life-forging that unsettling?"
"In an emergency, we need to protect ourselves, don't we?"
"Besides, regular iron is too soft and weak."
"Exactly. If we made weapons from life-forged iron as a gift to you, my lord..."
"Enough."
Chieftain Grid silenced the tribesmen's grumbling with a single word. His especially thick red beard shook vigorously.
I could understand it well enough. They'd been persecuted just for possessing such an ominous power.
And in the end, they'd been falsely accused and unceremoniously exiled...
But that day, Grid had seen it clearly. The arrogant king of the skies willingly clashing head-on.
"He is a lord who swings his sword on the front lines for his people, despite his station. Didn't you see it yourselves?"
"That's true, but..."
"Moreover, he only forbade us from using life-forging freely—he demanded no tribute whatsoever."
When the Red Hammer Tribe had tried attaching to another of the Four Great Powers, they'd demanded vast amounts of iron and weapons.
But Renheim's lord was different. His first concern wasn't weapons or iron—it was the safety of his people.
A man who loved his people and would gladly risk his life for them.
Of course, if Cain himself heard that, he'd instantly deny it as absurd nonsense.
"If we become his people... the tribe's safety would be guaranteed. And the balance has already collapsed."
"..."
"War is coming soon. A war that will engulf the entire continent. In that case, shouldn't we side with the victors?"
At the very least, Grid believed Cain Blackguard would win—and that's why he'd chosen this place.