< 143. Somehow >
Luize Berft.
The second princess of the Berft Kingdom had spent quite a long period in self-imposed seclusion after the incident in the Ormus Kingdom.
It had already been several months. Her routine was simple.
Holed up in the annex palace studying etiquette and academics, or heading out to the garden to swing her axe.
But today was different. Tacked onto her usual schedule was one tiny errand: a visit to the royal workshop.
Whistle—
She whistled cheerfully, caressing the blue battle axe that fit so snugly in her grip.
The weapon she had commissioned from the royal workshop had just been completed and delivered moments ago.
Its razor-sharp blade, icy gleam, exquisite beauty, and unyielding strength—everything was perfect.
'Shame it's not from that Roger bastard...'
She didn't consider Roger the absolute best craftsman.
Sure, he ranked among the top handful, but Berft was a kingdom of dwarves, brimming with exceptional artisans.
The real reason she had wanted a weapon from Roger Friedri was his unique nature as both a hero and a smith.
Unlike other heroes, he couldn't wield the power bestowed by the dimension himself. Instead, he could infuse it into gear.
A weapon that let even non-heroes borrow a hero's might indirectly.
That made Roger special. That was why she had craved his work.
But with Roger vanished, it was all pointless now.
She reached the annex garden, her usual axe-swinging spot.
A light swing cut the air with a sharp whoosh. The weight and balance suited her even better than expected.
"With this, ain't no skull I can't cleave..."
That was when it happened.
Crack—
The rock wall on one side of the garden trembled. A chunk of what seemed solid stone burst free—it was just packed dirt. And that dirt rained down on Luize.
"......"
"......"
Then their eyes locked with the face poking out from the new hole in the wall.
'...Secret passage?'
No, that wasn't the problem.
'Intruder?'
This was the royal palace annex garden. No one entered without her permission.
Let alone some hidden tunnel she knew nothing about.
Luize didn't dwell on it.
Her annex. Her turf. Unknown secret passage. Someone sneaks in.
Not an official guest. Not harmless.
So she did what she always did.
Swung the axe first, no questions.
Crunch—
The blade bit into the rock wall. Too bad—the intruder had already scrambled out.
'Fast.'
She pivoted instantly, stomping the ground and pouring power into her axe hand.
Swoosh—
A few strands of the intruder's hair fluttered loose.
Beautiful crimson.
Grip—
The axe was caught. Aura tangled with roaring flames.
Veins bulged on Luize's knuckles. Their eyes met—hers a deeper red than her hair.
"Who the fuck are ya?"
Luize growled.
Berge Dayas didn't answer right away.
Grand palaces loomed in the distance. No other signs of life nearby, just Luize.
'Damn dwarf runt—ya could've said where it led!'
Plug in Luize Berft's situation: the annex. The garden of the annex where she was grounded.
Of all places, the secret passage dumped out right where the axe-crazy princess rampaged.
If Roger hadn't set him up on purpose, it was coincidence piled on absurdity.
'What now?'
Should've come as a demon. Caught or not, blame the Demon King and done.
But Luize had seen his pale-disguised face. The safe identity for roaming the continent? Poof—gone.
Don't kill her, can't use "Pale" anymore.
The Dwarf Kingdom shows no mercy to heterogeneous species intruders in the royal annex.
Two options.
Flee, ditch the disguise.
Or no witnesses...
"Asked who ya are."
Thick killing intent shattered Berge's thoughts.
"Think I'll spill easy?"
"What bullshit. Just mercy from me. Self-reflection taught me temper control."
"Mercy?"
"Mercy to die whole, not hacked apart."
"Control's gone sideways."
"Big leap for me. Normal me? Axe'd be in yer skull already."
"No clue where ya get the balls."
"Balls? Obvious."
Repulsion shoved them apart. Luize hefted her axe. Muscles swelled across her frame.
"I trust nothin' but my axe!"
———!
Fist met axe.
Fierce aura and flickering flames annihilated each other. The blade slipped the gap, driven by its master's force into flesh.
Stinging pain creased Berge's brow.
Luize snorted at the blood on her edge.
"Block it? That's on yer hand."
"...No ordinary blade."
"High praise for dwarf masterwork."
"Masterwork? Heard the top smith fled Berft. Wonder why."
Her brow furrowed.
"Meanin'?"
"Guess."
"Watch it."
"Or?"
"Can't beg mercy. Skull splits first."
Luize snarled. Berge tossed more oil on the blaze.
"Met a dwarf. Bragged Berft's best. Roger Friedri, right?"
"Roger—where's that fucker?!"
Luize stomped.
Boom—
A beat late, the ground cracked under strain with a whoosh.
The axe carved space in a long arc.
Boom—
Berge retreated a step. Hollow laugh at the shock up his arm.
'Way stronger in months.'
Why every princess in this dimension like this?
Stray thoughts snapped. Luize's axe didn't pause now. Endless whooshes from aura-flame clashes tested their might.
'Can't drag.'
Annex distant, but palace. Dwarves swarm on noise soon.
Couldn't crush easy. Weaker far from tower, plus Luize's insane growth.
'No frontal assault.'
Berge aimed to rattle her mind.
"Know where, yeah. Won't say. Got a message to pass, though."
"That bastard said pass it to me?"
"Yep. Won't forge for a psycho bitch like you. Stay away—hates yer guts."
"...Psycho bitch?"
Luize flushed crimson. Roger here? She'd pulp him a hundredfold.
Too pissed? Reason kicked in. Or spotted something in the intruder's face.
"Ya look familiar..."
Flame-red hair, ruby eyes turned black...
"Roger said Tartar... Nah, can't. Hair dye maybe, but pupils..."
"Spot on."
Berge reined flames to his heart. Subtle magic points leaked.
Red hair-eyes blackened—Luize's pupils blew wide.
"You...!"
"Fun fact? No Roger in Tartar. Never was."
"You fuckin'—!"
"But know him. Where too. Guide ya?"
Berge's hand pierced her emotional blind spot.
Too late to fight back.
Wild flames shredded her aura. Exposed gap—chill magic orb spat beam.
Crackle-crack-crack—
No princess left.
Just Luize Berft's ice statue.
"...Unexpected. But move quick."
Berge crammed Luize into sub-space, fire-breath erased the chill, then vanished.
Dwarves boasted superb craftsmanship.
They found joy in creation, especially blacksmithing and magitech.
The kingdom pushed tech policies, spawning countless workshops.
A decent artisan opened shop—dwarves flocked to learn, birthing tech leaders.
Workshops had ranks, though.
All dwarves craved the elite ones. Hottest: royal workshop.
Royals ran it direct. Only kingdom's finest entered.
Entry alone bred pride. Everyone hungered for it.
'Finally.'
Artisan Kogen entered the capital, chest swelling.
Blacksmith from border town to capital: 58 years. Fame piled—royals finally summoned.
Family legend.
"Welcome, Master Kogen. Your royal workshop badge."
"Ooh, this..."
Gold plate, royal crest embossed—flawless beauty.
"To the workshop. Master awaits."
"Yes."
Not far.
"Hm? Guards gone?"
Knight frowned at empty gate.
"Ah, workshop knights pulled too? Apologies, poor show."
"No issue. Trouble?"
"Minor. Sorted soon—enter..."
Knight opened door.
"What chill..."
Kogen cocked head at the bone-freezing leak.
Cold from forge-hot workshop?
Thud—
"Eh?"
Guide knight dropped silent.
Force yanked them in. Door slammed shut.
Hammers silent.
Furnaces dim.
Heat devoured—freezer vibes.
Worst:
"...Mercy."
Dozens of royal smiths—sweating at workbenches—now ice ornaments.
"Last one."
Red-haired man atop statue, gazing down.
"Almost skipped ya. Good timing."
"Who..."
Kogen's words cut. Flying orb arced—heart strike. World bleached. Consciousness fled.
Clap clap—
Berge dusted after stuffing exactly 49 ice statues into sub-space.
Kingdom side: no alert yet. Lucky.
Luize vanishing pulled 'em all there, probably.
'Other passage then. Hope open.'
No cold trace: mana to dying embers, floor toss. Flames spread—workshop inferno soon.
"Ah."
New passage hunt—Berge paused.
"...Luize meet Roger okay?"
Hard picturing Roger hale.
'Eh, it'll work out.'
Root cause: Roger spilling passage to grounded Luize's annex.
Onward.
< 143. Somehow > End