Chapter 118: The Ironblood Council (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 118: The Ironblood Council (1)
“Father!”
At Thorvar’s sudden marriage proposal, Perka cried out, incensed.
It went without saying that she had no intention of getting married. As a Meister’s daughter, Perka’s goal was to become a great blacksmith like her father.
And now, marriage?
To the Slave Reaper, of all people?
It was utterly absurd.
“Yeah, no thanks.”
And Karami felt the same way.
“Think it over carefully. If you become my son-in-law, you’ll become a member of the dwarves. Though you may not be a dwarf yourself, it will grant you the minimum justification needed to approach Magmora.”
This man has no shame.
‘Does he really think I can’t see he’s just trying to pawn his problem off on me?’
Besides, telling a master to marry his slave?
That went against Karami’s principles regarding slaves.
“That’s not a very tempting offer, so I’ll have to refuse. You may not be able to tell, but my standards are quite high.”
“Tsk. And here I thought it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
“Haha. Miss Perka, I’ve given him a clean rejection.”
“…”
What is this?
This indescribable, unpleasant feeling.
She didn’t want it, and Karami didn’t want it, so their interests were aligned. Yet for some reason, Perka felt deeply displeased. It was like being rejected by a random passerby.
These two men.
She didn’t like them one bit.
“If you refuse, then there are no more negotiations. Take my daughter and get the hell out.”
Thorvar crossed his arms and closed his eyes. It was his way of saying, ‘Tough luck.’ In the end, wasn't Karami supposed to take responsibility for Perka one way or another? He’d let them figure it out.
“Hmm…”
Karami hummed thoughtfully.
A desperate conviction that he had to marry his daughter off to a man, even a slave trader.
Thorvar knew. If not now, Perka would live her whole life alone and die an old maid.
It was the heart of a father with an unwed daughter, a feeling that could never be replicated in a mere game.
Knock, knock, knock.
Just then, another knock came at the door.
When Thorvar opened it, a dwarf was standing there. It was Gurdan, Thorvar’s aide.
“Gurdan?”
“I’ve come to escort you, sir.”
“Ah, right, the meeting is today. I’d completely forgotten.”
The meeting to handle Doomheim’s major affairs was today. As one of the Meisters, Thorvar had to attend. Perka’s visit had made him forget.
“So, did you look into it? What does everyone think about laying down the railway tracks? Do they seem positive?”
“They are all quite firm in their beliefs, so I don’t think it will be easy.”
“They’ve all been retired from active duty for so long, their minds have hardened. …You go on ahead. I’ll take care of my business and be right there.”
“Understood.”
Gurdan bowed respectfully and left.
“Well, you heard him. I have to go, so you two should get going as well.”
Thorvar, holding the door wide open, gestured outside with his head.
‘A meeting… Was it called the Ironblood Council?’
The Ironblood Council.
It was the name for Doomheim’s highest assembly, where all the Meisters gathered in one place.
He had failed to persuade Thorvar, so he had to make a move there. If he could win the favor of another Meister, he might be able to borrow the ember.
“I would also like to attend this meeting, sir. As I understand it, it’s not just for Meisters; commoners can also observe if they wish.”
“Only dwarves. As a human, you are not qualified.”
“If you introduce me as the savior of your daughter’s life, couldn’t I attend as an outside guest?”
“And why should I do that?”
This was the real issue.
Karami flashed a sly smile, characteristic of a merchant.
“From what I just overheard, it sounds like you’re having trouble with something. I believe I can be of assistance to you, sir.”
“And how could you possibly do that?”
Karami flapped his hands in a flippant gesture, like a bird chattering its beak.
“I’m a merchant, am I not? I make my living by coaxing people with words. I am confident I can provide you with meaningful help.”
“…”
“Besides, doesn’t it feel wrong to send Miss Perka away like this? A rash, emotional decision can lead to irreversible consequences. Why don’t we take a moment and speak again after a short break?”
Karami’s plausible words flowed into Thorvar’s ears.
Thorvar silently exchanged glances with Karami. After a long moment, he finally stepped out the door.
“You’d do well to keep your mouth shut. Unless you want to be turned into minced meat.”
“Hmm, it’ll be next to impossible, but I’ll at least pretend to try.”
*
The Hall of Fire.
Decorated with statues of ancient dwarf warriors and giant hammers, it was the conference hall located on the floor above the Heart of Magmora.
Molten metal from the forge flowed across the floor, and a great flame blazed in the center of the hall.
The Seven Meisters sat at a round table, and behind them, in circular seating, sat the dwarf citizens.
While Doomheim was ruled primarily by the Seven Meisters, citizens were allowed to observe the Ironblood Council, where important matters were discussed.
In this hall, teeming with dwarves, one man stood out, towering over the rest. The human, Karami, was impossible to miss.
One of the Seven Meisters at the round table, Wolfram, the Ruler of the Battlefield, stared intently at Karami.
“Who are you?”
“He’s my guest. He brought back my missing daughter, so I invited him to watch.”
“Thorvar, are you finally going to have grandchildren?”
“It’s nothing like that. Let’s just start the meeting.”
The agenda was varied.
There was the matter of mineral trade with other nations.
The question of which smithy to award a large weapons contract to.
The dispatch of troops to deal with the demonic beasts emerging from the mines, and so on.
The meeting of the hearty dwarves was incredibly loud, but they were a people who didn’t know how to scheme and always revealed their true intentions.
Because they clashed with their true feelings out in the open, the meeting, despite its clamor, proceeded smoothly. With nothing to hide, there was no need to waste time deciphering each other’s motives.
Thanks to this, the meeting quickly reached its finale. The moderator, Ulgdar, the Iron Law, presented the last item on the agenda.
“Now for the final matter. It is a proposal to lay railway tracks in the mines, submitted by Thorvar Drak, Coordinator of the Ember.”
Thorvar rose from his seat.
The eyes of all the dwarves turned to him.
“I have proposed the installation of a railway for a simple reason. It is faster than walking, allows for easier travel to our destinations, and enables us to bring back more minerals.”
His argument was perfectly logical.
Laying tracks would drastically improve the quality of labor.
A one-time investment would yield continuous returns. From the perspective of Karami, a human and a merchant, there was no reason for any opposition.
But the dwarven way of thinking was different.
One of the Seven Meisters, Roxar, the Shield of Earth, immediately stood up in protest.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Thorvar. Pursuing excessive convenience inevitably leads to sloth.”
“It’s not about becoming slothful. If we can conserve our strength during transit, we can perform more work.”
“That’s what the weak say. A true dwarf should be able to work beyond his capacity without such help.”
“With a railway, we can go beyond our capacity, and then some.”
The two Meisters’ opinions clashed sharply.
Ulgdar stepped in, siding with Roxar.
“I share Lord Roxar’s sentiment. I understand Lord Thorvar’s point about increasing work efficiency, but a dwarf should walk the ground with his own two feet and feel the earth. That is how young dwarves learn to find veins of ore.”
“Then what if we use it only for hauling mater—”
CRASH!
Just then, Hargran, the Berserker’s Hammer, who had been chugging wine straight from a jug throughout the meeting, slammed it violently onto the table.
His face was flushed red, already thoroughly drunk.
“Hey, Thorvar. The entire process of traveling through the underground and carrying back the minerals we’ve harvested is a ritual for dwarves. And you want to lay down tracks? Are you trying to destroy a sacred tradition passed down from our ancestors?”
“Don’t twist my words with sophistry, Hargran. I’m simply trying to prevent as many accidents as possible when traveling to and from the underground. You know as well as I do that accidents frequently happen when dwarves are returning from work, their stamina depleted.”
“That too is part of the ritual, a trial that dwarves must overcome. What does everyone else think!” Hargran shouted.
The dwarves listening to the meeting roared in agreement with him.
“Hargran’s right! What does a dwarf need a railway for?”
“Back in my day, when we went out to work, we wouldn’t just come back the way we came. We’d make a whole loop before heading home! But these young whelps nowadays… Hmph. Tsk.”
The vast majority of dwarves threw their full support behind Hargran. Bolstered by their backing, Hargran’s presence swelled, while Thorvar could only remain silent.
The tide had turned, and the proposal was naturally heading for rejection.
Thump. Thump.
“Order.”
Ulgdar struck the desk with his gavel.
“Seeing the mood in the hall, it appears the majority views this negatively. Therefore, by majority vote, Lord Thorvar’s proposal to install a railway is reject—”
“Excuse me, if you don’t mind~”
Compared to the deep, booming voices of the dwarves, it was an incredibly light, melodious tone. And for that reason, in this place filled only with dwarves, it stood out all the more.
As Karami raised his hand with a faint smile, the gazes of all the dwarves fell upon him at once. Thorvar, in particular, let out a deep sigh and slapped a hand to his forehead.
“What is it?”
“I was listening, and I just had to say something. It seems you’re all being a bit short-sighted.”
With all eyes on him, Karami did not miss the opportunity that had presented itself.
“The elves would laugh if they saw this. They’d say, ‘Just as I thought. Dwarves can’t see the forest for the trees.’”