The Mountain City of Varkuntol
The three of them were ushered into the reception room of Varkuntol's city hall.
Elbridge and Marcus, seeing the dwarf mountain city's city hall for the first time, both thought the same thing: the building looked less like a government office and more like a temple.
The massive statue of the God of the Iron Anvil standing proudly in the exact center of the hall only reinforced that impression.
"Rombel. This... is definitely a city hall and not a temple, right?"
The Holy City of Soleneon where they had been staying also had a city hall.
But the mayor of Soleneon was required to refrain from making religious statements in any official capacity. After all, countless people of different faiths lived together in the Holy City.
The very idea of erecting a statue of a specific deity inside a city hall was simply unimaginable.
"The mayor of the mountain city of Varkuntol is different from the mayors or lords of other cities. The mayor of Varkuntol also serves as the Archbishop of the Iron Anvil Order."
Since every dwarf living in Varkuntol worshipped the God of the Iron Anvil, there was no reason to separate city administration from faith.
"How interesting."
"To the dwarves of this city, the outside world must seem just as strange."
Elbridge held a slightly different concern from Marcus.
"By the way, doesn't the city's atmosphere feel strangely peaceful?"
Marcus couldn't agree with Elbridge's assessment.
"Peaceful? Did you not see how stiff their expressions were?"
But Rombel agreed with Elbridge.
"I see it too. It's calmer than I expected."
Of course, that didn't mean the atmosphere was tranquil for no reason.
As Marcus had said, clear anxiety lingered on the dwarves' faces, and the entire city was taut with tension. It felt as though something could explode at any moment.
But a demon had appeared.
When a demon showed up, the city should have been swallowed by uncontrollable chaos, not merely worry and tension.
Rombel smiled with satisfaction.
"It just means the old dwarf warriors' skills are that outstanding. You think I'd have accepted this request without a plan?"
In the past, when a demon appeared, thirty or more knights and holy knights would be mobilized to seal it away.
Even when manpower was short or the demon's power was particularly weak, at least five holy knights or knights were still deployed.
In contrast, Elbridge's party numbered only three, including Marcus.
Three people alone could not seal a demon. No matter how skilled Elbridge and Rombel were, the success rate would be far too low.
So what gave Elbridge's group the confidence to head into the Red Mountains with just the three of them?
The answer was the dwarf warriors who had survived the ancient war against the demons.
"Rombel. How many dwarf warriors did you say were still alive?"
"At least seven or eight should still be around."
Dwarves had a lifespan of roughly four hundred years.
The war had ended two hundred years ago, so the young warriors from that time would still be alive.
At that moment, Marcus, who had been fidgeting restlessly, spoke up.
"Rombel. Do you know where the bathroom is?"
"Bathroom?"
"Yeah. Truth is, I've been holding it since we crossed the valley."
"It's been a long time since I was last here, so I don't remember. Go outside and find it."
Marcus awkwardly shuffled out of the reception room.
Now only Elbridge and Rombel remained. Rombel grinned mischievously.
"Elbridge. You still haven't told Marcus who you really are, have you?"
"The only person on this earth who knows who I am is you."
A playful glint filled Rombel's eyes.
"I'm already looking forward to it. When that kid hears your story, he's going to flip out, isn't he?"
Rombel and Elbridge planned to join forces with the dwarf warriors.
And they would undoubtedly recognize who Elbridge was. It was only a matter of time before Marcus learned his true identity.
"Before we leave, I need to make sure Marcus keeps his mouth shut. We can't have him spreading the story to others."
"Who cares about keeping his mouth shut right now? His reaction is what matters!"
As Elbridge and Rombel whispered to each other, the door to the reception room opened and two people entered.
One was Marcus, back from the bathroom. The other was a dwarf they had never seen before.
The dwarf looked slightly younger than Rombel and carried the distinct aura of someone in a position of power.
As soon as Marcus quickly sat down beside Rombel, the unfamiliar dwarf greeted the party.
"Greetings. I am Valdrek Deepdelver, mayor of the mountain city of Varkuntol. Please call me Valdrek, or simply Mayor."
"Nice to meet you, Mayor Valdrek. I am Rombel. The friend beside me is Holy Knight Elbridge. And the one who just came in is Marcus. He's a mercenary who's half a holy knight."
"Half a holy knight?"
"He's a mercenary, but he received an oracle from the God of the Fox Rain. He's also accumulated some divine power, so he's half a holy knight."
"I see. Understood."
Mayor Valdrek sat across from the party and began his explanation.
"As you may have guessed, the reason we sought help from outside is because the current situation in the Red Mountains is not good."
"I figured as much. What abilities does the demon possess? Where is the person who saw its appearance?"
Valdrek shook his head.
"It is not a demon. It is a demonic beast."
"What?"
Come to think of it, the dwarves had never directly mentioned a demon.
Still, the circumstances were too strange to simply be an ordinary demonic beast.
"A demonic beast? I clearly saw the brand of a demon with my own eyes. And there's no way dwarves would ask for outside help just because they couldn't handle a mere demonic beast."
"Rombel. This is no ordinary demonic beast. It is a late-stage distortion-type demonic beast."
At those words, Rombel let out a deep sigh.
"Well, damn."
Marcus, who had been listening, turned to Elbridge.
"Sir Elbridge. A distortion-type demonic beast... isn't that the same as the crow-like thing we saw before? It was certainly powerful, but... it didn't seem strong enough to throw an entire city this large into chaos."
"That one was transitioning from mid to late stage. But when a distortion-type demonic beast fully reaches its final stage, the situation changes somewhat."
"In what way?"
"As you saw, distortion-type demonic beasts distort space. Mid-stage ones can only use that ability to attack other targets... but late-stage ones also serve as a kind of passageway."
"A passageway?"
"Yes. A passage connecting the other world to this one. A late-stage distortion-type demonic beast can even summon other demonic beasts."
Marcus's expression grew serious.
"Don't tell me it can summon demons too? If it can summon multiple demons, then it's worse than a demon itself..."
"Not quite. However, demons often use distortion-type demonic beasts to project their power. A late-stage distortion-type demonic beast can be considered quasi-demon level."
Since ancient times, there had been one absolute rule whenever a distortion-type demonic beast was discovered.
Regardless of the reason, even if it meant sacrifice, it must be eliminated immediately upon discovery.
The ripple effect a distortion-type demonic beast could cause was so enormous that it rivaled that of a demon. It had to be removed by any means necessary to prevent future disasters.
Rombel asked Mayor Valdrek.
"How is the situation?"
"Bronzimmar has been completely overrun."
"...That explains it. I wondered why the iron gate leading to Bronzimmar was closed."
Another unfamiliar name had appeared.
Marcus boldly asked.
"Bron... whatever. What is that?"
"Next to the mountain city of Varkuntol is another city carved directly into the mountain. It started as a mine, but the entrance gradually expanded until it became a full city. That city's name is Bronzimmar."
"Is it far?"
"It is directly adjacent to Varkuntol. If you look at the cliff opposite the city hall, you'll see a massive iron gate. Once you pass through it, Bronzimmar is right there. From above, the two cities look like two circles placed side by side."
Elbridge recalled the iron gate he had seen on the way to the city hall.
It had been enormous enough for several wagons to pass through at once.
The mayor continued.
"About three months ago, demonic beasts began appearing in the mines inside Bronzimmar. We tried to deal with them somehow, but they kept coming endlessly. Eventually the tunnels were completely filled with demonic beasts and became impossible to manage."
"..."
"We had no choice but to seal the mine entrance and hold out. But in the end the tunnels were breached and all of Bronzimmar was overrun. Now even Varkuntol could fall at any moment."
Mayor Valdrek bowed deeply to the three of them.
"We desperately need your help. Ask for anything you require. If you can reclaim Bronzimmar, we will spare no reward."
"...Understood."
*
After finishing their conversation, the three left the city hall.
They began walking through the streets under the gazes of the dwarves.
Marcus asked cautiously.
"What do you make of the situation?"
Elbridge answered with his arms crossed.
"There is one bad point and one good point. Which would you like to hear first?"
"The good point first, please."
"The fact that we are dealing with a demonic beast instead of a demon is definitely good news."
"Didn't you say the demon would be pulling strings through that demonic beast?"
"Even so, it's far better than facing a real demon. Unlike a demon that must be sealed, a demonic beast can be killed completely."
Marcus smiled with satisfaction.
"Then the bad point is obvious. The problem is having to deal with a writhing swarm of demonic beasts, right?"
"Correct. And there will probably be several times more than you are imagining, Marcus."
Marcus's face twisted in despair.
On the way to the Red Mountains, Marcus had faced demonic beasts several times with Elbridge and Rombel's help. He had never once succeeded in eliminating one on his own.
"Don't worry. With the help of the old dwarf warriors, we should be able to manage somehow."
"That's a relief, at least."
"Depending on how things go, a few of us might die..."
"Not much of a relief anymore."
"That's only if things don't go well. If everything goes according to plan, no one will die."
"Now that's a relief."
"However, situations involving demonic beasts or demons rarely go according to plan."
"...Please stop messing with me. Every single word you say is sending me back and forth between heaven and hell, Sir Elbridge."
Elbridge and Rombel walked along, teasing Marcus.
Finally, their steps stopped in front of a certain house.
Elbridge asked.
"Is this the home of one of the old warriors?"
"That's right. This is the house of the Diligent Stoneguard. You remember him, right?"
"Of course I do."
"That Stoneguard bastard... to think he'd let things get this bad without wrapping things up in time. I'm going to give him a good scolding."
Despite his grumbling tone, Rombel's expression was remarkably bright. How could it not be, when he was about to meet a comrade from two hundred years ago?
When Rombel knocked loudly on the door, a young dwarf girl came out and looked at the three of them.
"Who are you?"
"This is Stoneguard's house, right?"
"He's my grandfather."
"Is he inside?"
"He passed away before I was born."
"Ah, I see. Understood."
Rombel made an awkward face and glanced back at Elbridge.
"Stoneguard was on the older side. Let's head to the Brave Anvilborn's house instead. Though now that I think about it, without the Diligent Stoneguard around, they probably kept putting off dealing with the demonic beasts until it became this mess..."
Muttering to himself, Rombel headed to the next house.
The next house wasn't far.
Once again, Rombel knocked loudly on the gate.
This time, a young dwarf came out to greet him.
"Who are you?"
"This is the house of the Brave Anvilborn, correct?"
"He was my great-uncle. And who might you be?"
"My name is Rombel. I was Anvilborn's closest friend."
The young dwarf frowned.
"Friend or not, you couldn't have been that close. Showing up only now to visit my great-uncle who died in a mining accident a hundred and ninety years ago."
With that, the young dwarf slammed the gate shut.
Rombel spoke as if nothing had happened.
"In that case, let's go to Helga's house. It's not far."
Rombel knocked on the third gate.
A middle-aged female dwarf appeared. This time, she clearly recognized Rombel.
"Oh my! Isn't that Rombel? When did you get back?"
"Today. It took a while because of some circumstances."
"I see. I've heard bits and pieces of the story... Anyway, what brings you here?"
"Is Helga inside?"
The female dwarf's expression darkened.
"My sister is dead."
"When?"
"It was two or three years after the war ended. The wounds she received on the battlefield suddenly worsened and she passed. She was still so young."
"...I see. Understood."
The female dwarf was about to close the door when she glanced around cautiously.
Then she whispered softly.
"Be careful, Rombel."
That was all she said.
But that short warning carried a great deal of meaning.
Creak— thud.
Something was wrong.
Not only Rombel, but Elbridge and Marcus's expressions grew serious as well.
The three of them visited the homes of other dwarves.
Barnoch, Borin, Siphrid, Hoolgar...
But strangely, not a single one of them was still alive.
When coincidences pile up, they become inevitability.
The meaning behind the deaths of seven dwarves was clear.
Elbridge spoke.
"Rombel."
Rombel did not answer Elbridge's call. He simply stood there for a long time, fists clenched tightly.
But in his eyes, rage burned like molten iron.
Finally, Rombel muttered in a low voice.
"Iron Anvil. You son of a bitch..."