I Just Can't Hold Back!
[……Rune. ……Baekya.]
The mermaid recited the names of her visitors one by one, as if afraid she might forget them.
She reached out a webbed hand and grasped the feather of the white bird radiating light.
For the first time, the warmth touching her cold hand and the softness of the dry feathers registered.
[Warm…… light…….]
The mermaid gently pressed the feather to her white cheek.
The warmth, impossible to feel in the cold ocean depths, eased the pain gnawing at her body, if only a little.
Finally, the day of the blacksmith grand finals had arrived.
Rune's turn to appear was dead last.
For the sake of fairness, no information had been disclosed to him at all—Dwarf access had been completely blocked since the day before.
'Made things nice and relaxing.'
Rune stretched as he waited in his room.
Soon, a knock sounded, and a Dwarf outside announced it was his turn.
"Lord Rune, it's about time to prepare."
"Got it."
Heungmi entered the room wearing a cute skirt handmade by the reformist Dwarves.
It was made of soft fabric, perfect for a child's school performance.
'They said they'd whip up a celebratory show on the spot with the Dwarves.'
The ending performance for Heungmi, hastily added to the end of the contest yesterday.
He had no idea how the idea of dancing with the salamanders had come about, but Heungmi looked thrilled, so it didn't matter.
She'd rehearsed tirelessly since morning, her cheeks flushed red and feverish with excitement.
"Lord Rune! This outfit's cute, right?!"
Rune nodded in approval.
"Yeah. It suits you. You've been practicing hard—I hear the show's after the winner's announced?"
Heungmi cupped her cheeks and grinned ear to ear.
"Yep! I asked them to schedule my turn right after you pick the winner, so you can watch too!"
"Good thinking."
'A dance synced with salamanders? Sounds intriguing.'
The Dwarves had already named it 'Dance of the Spirits' and started promoting it.
'Time to go.'
Rune rose, lightly checked his collar, and headed for the finals stage.
Even in this ultra-insular village, the training grounds packed with nearly every Dwarf felt like a total mob scene.
Plus, this final round skipped all the pomp and went straight to unveiling the works.
A perfect tension hung in the air.
"Lord Rune, please make your entrance!"
As Rune stepped onto the stage, applause erupted, all eyes locking onto him with eager anticipation.
"Alright! The moment we've all been waiting for—the grand finals! Rune's choice will decide our ultimate champion blacksmith!"
Verdin, judge and emcee, boomed with a voice that resonated from his gut, captivating the crowd.
"For a fair evaluation, Lord Rune knows nothing about these works! First up—reveal number one!"
Whoosh!
The heavy cloth was yanked away in one swift motion, drawing gasps from the Dwarves.
On a pedestal draped in red silk stood a spear and shield—simple yet eye-catching, etched with elegant golden patterns.
Using Lord Rune's scales for optimal user synchronization!
"Crafted using Lord Rune's scales, emphasizing perfect adaptation to the user! Behold: Whatsoever Piercing Spear and Whatsoever Blocking Shield!"
"Ooooh!"
Scattered curses and cries of "That can't be real!" erupted here and there.
But among the skilled Dwarves, those versed in explanations started dissecting the masterwork's structure among themselves.
"It's Kuan after all!"
"The 'Great Blacksmith' from Round One hasn't lost his touch."
"Look at that mana stone forging. Every glyph is melted right in! It circulates mana through the whole gear."
Nothing but praise and breakdowns of why it was amazing.
Of course, some snide remarks mixed in.
"'Pierces anything, blocks anything'? Sounds like hot air."
"Guess age dulled his edge."
The Dwarf who'd spoken glared back with axe eyes, starting a stare-down.
"What forge are you punks from?"
"Filthy mouths on you."
"Wanna go?!"
Fists were already flying in the back.
Thankfully routine, Verdin signaled, and Gorban and Wood dashed out.
They patted the brawlers' heads just right—knocking them out cold.
"Next—reveal the second work!"
Whoosh!
"What the heck is that?"
"Just a rock? Sculpture?"
"Wasn't this about gear?"
Faces puzzled all around, but the reformist blacksmiths beamed with smug pride.
Using Lord Rune's scales, prioritizing functionality for Dwarfkind's progress!
For True Prosperity, Not War!
"Also using Lord Rune's scales, focused on functionality for our race's true advancement! Introducing: For True Prosperity, Not War!"
"The savage era of conquest by might is long gone!"
"Right—now's the age where thoughts and ideals get respect."
"Great gear matters, but anyone with real style can't stand passing this up!"
Somewhere, a roar of "You think artisan contests are kid games?!" got shot down with icy sarcasm.
"Judging artisans by war gear? Man, gonna keep playing caveman forever?"
"Endless war talk from nowhere—chill out, you bloodthirsty freaks!"
"Even if Lord Rune's a dragon, pushing weapons on a 10-year-old kid? That's artisan behavior?"
Factions clashed again, fists flying—Gorban and Wood rushed to calm things.
The Dwarves bickered among themselves, but Rune, who'd visited both forges, could tell at a glance.
'Obviously, first is traditionalists, second reformists.'
The first was intuitively a spear and shield; the second's true nature still eluded him.
Then Verdin called the lead blacksmiths.
"Traditionalists' Kuan Rubes! Reformists' Quatan Quatorse!"
"Yes!"
"Here!"
"Please explain your works to Lord Rune."
Rune referenced their words midway, inspecting and handling the pieces himself.
This was a bit of showmanship to hype the crowd—nodding along, lifting items for view, all pre-arranged to pick the winner.
'Traditionalists went spear and shield. Makes sense—even without wars, dungeons and monster hunts thrive. Small-scale domain skirmishes still happen too, so plenty useful.'
The traditionalists' weapons boasted hero-grade performance.
It aligned nicely with Perdikion's creed that might rules all.
'But what's the reformists' thing……?'
Then reformist master blacksmith Quatan Quatorse spoke up.
"What we made is a spirit flame lantern—what we call a 'spirit lamp'."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd!
Quatan explained, meeting eyes with Rune and the gathered Dwarves.
"Forged Lord Perdikion's scales with salamander fire for a semi-permanent glow!"
'! So they used the salamanders Jed fetched here?'
Of the ten ruby salamanders, five went to Heungmi; the rest released except those needed here.
Rune recalled Perdikion once mentioning the first artisan contest.
'He picked traditionalists' weapon, but praised reformists' 'messenger orb' as truly excellent. It proved super useful in the castle—changed daily life.'
Perdikion had agonized back then, but said this contest wouldn't disappoint.
'Rune, pick what you truly love. I'll give anything. If it helps you, it's great for me and the Dwarves too.'
As Rune reminisced Perdikion's words, Quatan continued.
"Plus, using Lord Rune's dark-affinity scales—flame vanishes in sunlight. Safe light for kids, no accidents!"
Quatan grinned triumphantly at Rune.
"We've heard both teams' explanations. Now, Lord Rune—please select the final winner."
The crowd fell silent, awaiting Rune's choice.
Rune pondered briefly, then spoke.
"Do you remember what I ordered for the finals task?"
Before the composed young boy, both master blacksmiths answered without hesitation.
"Create the greatest work."
"The order to craft the greatest work."
Traditionalist Kuan and reformist Quatan shared a glance, then turned back to Rune.
"I'll speak first."
Traditionalist master Kuan Rubes opened.
"No race escapes war. Even mighty dragons recognize weapons' value."
Rune nodded.
The mighty Imugi who'd lived 999 years still fell to superhuman arms.
"Gear maintains order against outer greed, protects kin and life. It preserves our history and traditions."
Kuan's steady voice carried heavy weight, silencing every Dwarf.
"War is the living's inescapable fate. Facing it, gear stands ever at our side. Thus, gear is the sacred, greatest work."
"Makes sense."
Rune nodded.
'Strong weapons are great. Masterworks even more so.'
Sensing his reaction, reformist master Quatan Quatorse jumped in.
"Not denying that! Our ancestors' blood bought our breath. But we're not at war now, right?"
Quatan grinned at Rune.
"We've researched you plenty, Lord Rune. Your likes, thoughts—even how Lord Perdikion reformed his rule through you."
Rune glanced at Perdikion.
Perdikion had only shared his own experiences; he met Rune's eyes and nodded.
"Those tales moved us deeply!"
"……."
"A dragon tending war-weary hearts—what a clue for crafting the perfect gift for you!"
'No wonder they kept prying about my tastes and preferences.'
The persistent questions were the reformists fine-tuning for the ideal fit.
Quatan pressed on.
"A darkness-born one raised in a bright lair, commanding firekin!"
Quatan smacked his forehead.