Chapter 42
Chapter 42
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 42
Chapter Title: The Dwarves of Iron Mountain
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“So, what was the strategy?”
Seeing Piot’s eyes sparkle with interest as he glanced at Sion’s reaction, Sirban puffed up even more and continued.
“Yes. You instructed the elves to harass and retreat from the rear and flanks of Count Pamell’s forces as they entered the forest. In the end, Count Pamell’s troops, who had spread out widely to advance into the forest, had no choice but to gather in one place. That’s when the elves lured trolls to overwhelm them.”
At the time, a family of trolls had ambushed Count Pamell’s forces, and after a brutal battle that resulted in over two hundred casualties, they managed to kill the trolls.
But that wasn’t the end.
Throughout the entire time Count Pamell’s forces were crossing the forest, the elves drove beasts and monsters to torment them. By the time they finally emerged after five days, there were over a thousand additional casualties, leaving the army in a state tantamount to total annihilation.
And waiting for the utterly exhausted army of Count Pamell was Duke Sion’s army—well-rested and with high morale. Seeing the enemy’s forces more than double their own, Count Pamell’s troops surrendered on the spot.
Afterward, the Pamell Count family, much like the Ougust family, became a ‘subordinate’ to Duke Sion’s house through several marriages. They were forced to pay massive reparations and cede part of their territory, of course.
“Nephew, does that mean... there are still trolls or ogres like that around now?”
“W-Well. Probably? But I’m not entirely sure myself...”
When traveling to Ougust territory, they had used the only road managed by elf warriors, and nothing had happened.
In truth, Sirban, who had rarely ventured beyond the dukedom, didn’t even know why the road was safe.
Strictly speaking, the road cut right through the heart of the forest, and there was no reason beasts or monsters would spare that path alone.
“Beasts and monsters are still plentiful. But they’ve learned their lesson.”
The answer came from Sion.
“Learned... their lesson?”
“Beasts and monsters aren’t idiots. Ever since our duke’s house took root in this land, they’ve learned generation after generation who hunts them most ruthlessly and relentlessly. Especially that wandering near the road means certain death at their hands.”
Sion’s gaze lingered on the elves riding on Gou.
“Stelmann.”
“Yes, Master.”
“How many mercenaries are typically mobilized to subjugate mid-to-large monsters?”
“It varies by number, but for an adult troll, it starts at thirty. For a family unit of three or four, you need at least a hundred for subjugation.”
At Stelmann’s response, Sion turned to his grandsons and said,
“The elves handle that with around thirty.”
“Ah....”
Piot let out an involuntary exclamation of admiration as realization dawned.
That was why Sion had said last night that the elves might value ‘levels’ in humans even more than humans did.
And why they weren’t heading straight to the duke’s castle but instead going to meet other elf tribes with the North Mountain Elves.
-It’s not just to show off by summoning the elves. Just as they did when I first established the house here, the elves will play a crucial role in the newly reborn dukedom. And you will be the visible bridge between the elves and our house.
-Me?
Remembering his own foolish reaction, Piot’s ears flushed slightly.
In any case, this was the first official mission Sion had given him, and Piot burned with enthusiasm.
‘This is my chance. I’ll leave a deep impression on Grandfather. You can do it, Piot.’
If Sion had heard that thought (automatically evoking sunflowers, which grew abundantly in the dukedom alongside olive trees), he might have found it somewhat ominous. But oblivious, Piot launched his first operation to impress Sion.
“Nephew, there’s nothing much to do on the way. How about we study Elvish together?”
“Right now?”
“Yeah. We’ll be traveling together for quite a while anyway—wouldn’t it be good to build rapport with the North Mountain Elves?”
Piot whispered low to the flustered Sirban.
“Besides, you’re the one who’ll lead Paloma in the future, right? Building camaraderie with the leader of the North Mountain Elf warriors wouldn’t hurt. And...”
Piot’s gaze turned to the child asleep on the servant’s back. The boy was the heir to the Ougust family whom Sion had handpicked.
“When that kid wakes up, you and I have to watch him, don’t we? But if we’re chatting with the elves and learning Elvish, Brother Yonas should be fine with that, right?”
“T-That’s true...”
As Sirban’s ears twitched, Piot drove the point home.
“Come on, let’s go. You can translate, teach me Elvish, and build some rapport all at once. What? Don’t tell me you’re not confident in Elvish translation?”
“What kind of talk is that! Fine, let’s give it a shot!”
With Sirban storming ahead indignantly, Piot followed, chuckling softly.
Sion watched warmly as the two young men approached Priel, who was leading the elf warriors at the front, gesturing animatedly while conversing with the elves.
Sion was satisfied that the two, who had openly disliked each other at their first meeting, had become so close.
Yonas, meanwhile, gazed at Sion’s back with a complicated expression.
-From the moment we arrive at the dukedom, you must trust me.
His faith and loyalty to the founder would not waver even if the heavens split in two.
But if the storm this man brought turned toward the house—no, toward his brother and father—what should he do?
‘Brother... surely not? Please, I hope not...’
Biting his lip, Yonas stared at the founder’s back as he traversed the echo-less forest like his own living room.
Hoping such an event wouldn’t occur. And that the founder’s steps would lead only to the High Mountain and South Mountain elf tribes before heading straight to the duke’s castle.
With loyalty to the founder and duke’s house matched by his concern for family, Yonas harbored that hope deep in his heart.
But his hopes crumbled into vain disappointment.
* * *
“Pardon?”
“You mean you’ll be going separately from here?”
Right after lunch, Piot, Yonas, and Priel, summoned aside by Sion, were stunned by his orders.
Sion spoke calmly.
“That’s right. The South Mountain and High Mountain Elves will obey my words with just Priel along.”
“B-But...”
“Then where will you be going, Founder?”
Unlike the flustered Piot, Yonas quickly grasped something and asked politely, though unable to hide his unease.
“I’m going to Iron Mountain.”
“Iron... Mountain?”
Piot, unfamiliar with the dukedom, tilted his head.
But Yonas and Priel knew exactly where Iron Mountain was.
“I see... as expected.”
“You plan to summon the Iron Mountain Dwarves as well?”
“Of course. The Iron Mountain Dwarves are our house’s allies.”
Allies, not mere subjects.
That was the status of the dwarves living in Duke Sion’s territory.
When Sion had received the territory and come to this land, he hadn’t brought only elves.
Elves weren’t the only race marching toward extinction. Dwarves were slowly but surely heading the same way.
Long ago, dwarves had received a ‘curse’ from some entity.
The curse was simple yet fatal.
The fertile period of dwarf women had been drastically reduced to five years.
Thus, dwarves rarely had more than two or three children. Four was possible with effort, but considering the recovery time after childbirth, four was the maximum.
Another issue was that not all dwarf women found mates and conceived during their fertile periods.
It was a harsh curse, but if peace had endured, their population might have stabilized or even grown.
But the world was not so kind.
Conflict never ceased.
Dwarves, even more than elves, had lived in close ties with humans, inevitably affected by human disputes.
Sion had persuaded such dwarves.
Of course, he couldn’t save all dwarves in the world, nor did he intend to.
But he convinced the tribe of a dwarf craftsman he’d known since his mercenary days, and a few others close to them accepted Sion’s offer and came to the dukedom.
And like the elves, they received land from Sion to settle.
Iron Mountain.
The only mountain in Duke Sion’s territory with mines, and the surrounding land.
“Allies? Aren’t the elves allies?”
At Piot’s question, Yonas stepped in for Sion.
“Both races have special relations with our dukedom, but the elves are more like blood allies. A core group who fought alongside the Founder long ago migrated in small bands. So all elves in the dukedom are either those who battled the evil dragon in the Founder’s era or their descendants. But dwarves are different.”
“Different how...?”
“The dwarves came to the dukedom through ironclad contracts. Our house and the Founder protect the dwarves, and in return, they develop the mines for us and pass on their knowledge and skills.
That’s why Iron Mountain is bound by contract, and the gold, silver, and iron ore from there are distributed according to it. The Founder signed that contract, and it’s been renewed ever since.”
As Yonas’s gaze met his, Sion spoke.
“As Yonas said, I’m the contracting party. The contract is renewed every five years by mutual agreement between the current duke and the dwarves’ chief craftsman, the Mine Foreman. Of course, the terms rarely change...”
Sion trailed off, his gaze shifting from the attentively listening Piot to Yonas.
Seeing Yonas’s expression darken slightly as if sensing something, Sion continued.
“It just so happens this year is a renewal year. And as I mentioned, only the current duke, an official proxy bearing the duke’s seal, or the original contracting party—like in any contract—can renew it.”
“...Ah!”
Nodding to Piot, who finally understood, Sion added,
“With the duke’s seat vacant, neither the duke nor an official proxy can attend the renewal. But as the original party, I have no issue. The dwarf friends might be surprised, but what can they do? I came in person.”
While renewing the contract with the dwarves, Sion planned to solidify them as his support base.
Dwarves valued contracts more than anyone, even merchants.
Sion judged that the Iron Mountain dwarves, unsettled for quite some time and facing renewal with no duke appointed, must harbor concerns and dissatisfaction toward Duke Sion’s house.
After all, they had contracted with ‘Duke Sion,’ not the dukedom.
“If you or Yonas came along, the dwarves would inevitably misunderstand—thinking I support you, Piot, or the Paloma descendants. But if I go alone, they’ll have no choice but to believe and follow my words, like it or not.”
“I see. Um, Grandfather... may I ask one more thing?”
“Go ahead.”
“To get the dwarves to believe you and renew the contract, won’t you have to reveal your identity?”
“Indeed.”
“Yes. But last night, you said... you’d become the... um, black幕...”
Though it was hard to say to the founder he revered so much, since the man himself had put it that way, Piot ventured it cautiously.
Well aware of his great-grandson’s feelings, Sion chuckled.
“That’s right. So I plan to reveal my identity only to the current Iron Mountain Dwarf Mine Foreman.”
“Um... I’m really sorry to keep asking, but can that Mine Foreman convince the rest of the dwarves?”
“Just as we use the three-headed eagle as our symbol, the Iron Mountain Dwarves have their own crest.”
“Pardon?”
Piot blinked at the seemingly unrelated response.
“A red background symbolizing iron ore, with a crossed hammer and shovel.”
“Uh... is that so?”
It was obvious he’d swallowed ‘What does that have to do with anything?’ To his great-grandson, Sion recalled the red flag of the Iron Mountain Dwarves—which had once made him laugh in disbelief—and continued.
“The flag they carry looks remarkably like the national flag of some neighborhood I know. Even the way the underlings follow the leader’s absurd decisions with some grumbling. It’s similar.”
The only difference was whether the leader was called General Secretary or Mine Foreman.
The Iron Mountain Dwarves, with their red flag bearing hammer and shovel like the Soviet sickle and hammer flag, shared a strikingly similar system.
(To be continued)