Chapter 119: The Ironblood Council (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 119: The Ironblood Council (2)
In the world of TOS, a race’s traits followed its roots.
The elves of the forest had long ears and beautiful features. They handled bows and spirits and were possessed by a sense of superiority that made them look down on other races.
The dwarves of the underground were short and stout. They loved alcohol, had boisterous personalities, and were born with the temperament of artisans.
Elves and dwarves were polar opposites.
Naturally, they did not get along.
So, for Karami to say, “The elves would laugh if they saw this,” to a crowd of dwarves was the same as saying, “Please pound me into a pulp with your hammers.”
“What did you say, you bastard?! What was that?!”
The dwarves shot to their feet as Hargran roared, his eyes blazing.
“You twig that Thorvar brought in! I didn't kick you out because I wanted to show you the might of the dwarves, but this is not a place for the likes of you to run your mouth!”
A bitter smile curled Karami’s lips.
“The great Bargan, forefather of the dwarves, who built the Heart of Magmora and created the Ironblood Council, said, ‘All participants who attend the Ironblood Council are equal.’”
“……!”
“Though I may be human, I am an official observer who has attended this meeting, which means I have the right to speak. Am I to interpret your attempt to silence me as an act of defiance against the will of the great Bargan?”
“You rotten twig! How dare a mere human invoke the name of the great Bargan before me, Hargran! Fine, I was in need of a bar snack anyway. I’ll just smash your head and roast it!”
As Hargran moved to stand with his colossal hammer, Wolfram stopped him.
“Sit down, Hargran.”
“But, Wolfram!”
“Are you trying to spill blood in the sacred Hall of Fire? If so, I cannot simply stand by and watch. The same goes for every other dwarf in this hall.”
“……”
Hargran scanned the room.
The very dwarves who had been egging him on just moments ago were now whistling innocently, as if they had nothing to do with it.
Hargran, a staunch traditionalist, had no choice but to take a step back.
“You rotten twig!”
He settled for spitting out a curse.
Wolfram, having cooled the furnace-hot atmosphere, propped his chin on his hands and offered a weighty smile.
“Alright, you…”
“My name is Karami. I’m a slave trader.”
“Right, Karami. Did you just say our thinking was shortsighted?”
“I did. You only see the tree in front of you, but you fail to see the forest. Frankly, it’s frustrating to watch.”
Despite Karami’s provocation, Wolfram just chuckled, his smile disarmingly friendly.
“Comparing us to elves in the holy land of the dwarves. You don’t seem to be in your right mind.”
“A merchant has to have a screw loose to get by.”
“That’s also true.”
One wrong word and he’d be on a one-way trip to the afterlife. Where did this audacity spring from? He was lacking in build, but his guts were at least on par with a dwarf’s.
Wolfram was starting to get curious about Karami.
“Very well. You have the floor. But before you speak, remember this. Dwarves like confidence, but we do not like rudeness. If your words fail to move the hearts of the dwarves, you will have to take responsibility for your insolence.”
“Understood.”
“Good. Then let’s hear it.”
This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
A chance to side with Thorvar and win the support of the dwarves all at once.
He couldn’t let this slip away.
“Why do you only think of putting ore or people on the railway? You can do that well enough without one.”
“Then what else is there?”
Time for the finishing blow.
Karami played his trump card.
“Alcohol.”
“Alcohol…?”
“If you install a railway, won’t you be able to transport large quantities of alcohol to the worksites?”
At that single word, silence fell over the hall. It was as if they had come face to face with a dragon; their eyes, hidden within their bushy beards, grew so wide they became clearly visible.
A long, eternal silence flowed by before one dwarf, his beard trembling, broke the stillness.
“Are you a fucking genius?”
“You can… transport it in large quantities…?”
“That’s right.”
Like a salesman pitching a product to a group of old men in the countryside, Karami began his story with a gentle smile.
“Isn’t it difficult to transport alcohol to worksites far from the city? It’s so heavy you can’t take as much as you want, and liquids have a mind of their own. Traversing the rough underground, your body gets tossed around with it.”
“That’s right.”
“And is that all? There is no race in this world that burns with as much passion as a dwarf. You radiate heat like a forge, so by the time you reach your destination… oh, dear. The cold alcohol has turned lukewarm. After all that effort to bring it, it’s lukewarm. Isn’t that just awful?”
“Ugh… Just thinking about it brings tears to my eyes.”
“Alcohol is meant to be drunk cold… A deplorable state of affairs.”
Drawn into Karami’s vivid narrative, the dwarves expressed their emotions openly. Deciding the foundation was laid, Karami rose from his seat and came forward.
He began to walk around, using the Hall of Fire as his stage. The dwarves’ eyes followed his every move.
“But what happens if we install a railway? You can transport as much alcohol as you want, in large quantities. It won’t be warmed by your body heat, and the transport speed will be fast, so you can keep it as cold as possible.”
“Ooooh…!”
“Your body is exhausted from hard labor, sweat pouring down like rain, leaving you sticky and uncomfortable. But then you pour a frost-covered ale down your throat, and a cool energy spreads throughout your entire body…!”
Karami formed an invisible mug and tilted it back.
Gulp, gulp, gulp.
His Adam’s apple bobbed, his performance so vivid it felt as if he were actually drinking. It was so realistic that the dwarves swallowed hard.
When the bottom of the invisible mug was pointed at the ceiling, Karami finally pulled it away from his lips.
“Ahhhh~”
“Kyahhh~”
Right on cue, the dwarves let out a collective sigh of satisfaction. They wiped their mouths with their sleeves as if they had truly just had a drink.
“How about it? Isn’t it the best, just imagining it?”
“Ahhh, that’s fucking awesome.”
“And what do we absolutely need to drink this cold alcohol?”
““The railway!””
“Correct!”
The dwarves were now in perfect sync with Karami.
Karami couldn’t hide his smile.
Everything was going according to his plan.
Any dwarf who was recognized as such could attend the Ironblood Council, but Karami’s analysis showed that most of the attendees were middle-aged or older.
Young dwarves worked and enjoyed their leisure, but the older ones did not. Their bodies no longer burned with the same fire, so they attended meetings like this to kill time.
It was the same in the modern world.
Just look at voter turnout—the rates for middle-aged and older demographics were far higher than for the young.
That was why politics revolved around the elderly. The opinions of a few young dwarves were easily dismissed by the majority of older dwarves. That was the nature of majority rule.
They looked askance whenever the younger generation tried to make things even slightly more convenient, droning on about tradition and pushing their unprovable experiences as gospel.
They didn’t even realize that even if their stories were true, they were useless in a changed era.
If that was the case, he just had to twist their perception.
He would play the alcohol card—the one thing these old men, these dwarves, were crazy about.
There was no way they would refuse.
The greed of the establishment was no less than that of a merchant.
They would surely bite if it was something that benefited them.
Karami’s role was finished. The dwarves started running with it, creating a ruckus all on their own.
“Why on earth didn’t we think of moving alcohol? We only thought about moving people or ore.”
“This is embarrassing. To think a dwarf couldn’t come up with an idea a human did. He was right when he said we couldn’t see the forest for the trees.”
“Ugh, what a disgrace to all dwarves. This foolishness was certainly on par with, or even worse than, the elves.”
Even as they berated themselves for their ignorance, they didn’t forget their habitual elf-hating.
The scales, which had been tipped so far to one side they had completely toppled, were now reversed. The dwarves who had opposed the railway installation had flipped to the side of its supporters.
“Hey, let’s build the railway!”
“Yeah! Does it make any sense to drink lukewarm ale after a hard day’s work? That’s torture for a dwarf!”
Karami shifted his gaze toward Hargran. He, too, had been captivated by Karami’s performance, swallowing hard before flinching when their eyes met.
“If we only transport alcohol, not people or ore, it won’t harm the ritual.”
“Th-that’s…”
“Furthermore, dwarves and alcohol have been inseparable since ancient times. A dwarf who has finished his labor considers cooling his throat with a cold ale to be life’s greatest pleasure. The fact that you drink even during the Ironblood Council says it all.”
Karami gestured with his eyes to Hargran’s empty flagon.
He was right.
Dwarves and alcohol were inseparable.
Committing violence or suppressing the right to speak was taboo in the Ironblood Council, but drinking was not. Not only Meisters like Hargran but also ordinary dwarves drank.
Dwarves loved alcohol so much they carried it in their canteens instead of water.
“As a Meister who governs Doomheim, shouldn’t you provide a suitable reward to the dwarves who have completed their rituals?”
For now, he had only proposed transporting alcohol.
But would they really only transport alcohol?
They might resist at first, but comfort was like the devil’s temptation. Once the railway was installed and they were moving alcohol, they would want to ride it themselves.
Wolfram let out a hollow laugh and shook his head.
“Well, you really got us there.”
“Wolfram, this is absolutely not right!”
“Give it up, Hargran. The Ironblood Council is for gathering the opinions of the many, not the few leaders. You can see what everyone wants.”
“But…!”
“If you don’t like it, you can try to persuade them. The young human you dismissed as a twig managed to do it, so surely you can too?”
Hargran clamped his mouth shut.
He looked like he’d just swallowed something foul.
He lifted his flagon to cool his anger, but not a single drop fell out. He threw it down in a fit of pique.
Wolfram smiled gently and nodded at Ulgdar. Ulgdar nodded back.
“Lord Thorvar’s motion to install the railway will be adopted by majority opinion.”
Bang. Bang.
He struck his hammer.
The sound echoed clearly through the hall.
Thorvar stared at Karami in disbelief. Karami just shrugged and mouthed some words.
Are you still not going to lend me the ember?