Elvenheim
"Creating a weapon that surpasses the transcendent weapons our clan's First Hammer has used for generations. That's my dream."
The dwarf, Grandal, declared it proudly. He even went on.
"This hand cannon here is one of the masterpieces from that process—a weapon of my own design, inspired by the transcendent weapon Thunderbolt."
Boasting about the very object that had sparked friction with the elves, Tiny couldn't help but feel a headache coming on. Why do I have to hear this?
"So, you're heading to Elvenheim to gather materials?"
"That's right. A branch from the World Tree—or even just a fragment of one..."
Even as he spoke, his once-bold voice trailed off, laced with doubt.
The World Tree. A mythical entity from legends, the powerful force sustaining the life of the Great Forest against demonic corruption. Would any elf willingly hand over even a piece of it to a dwarf, of all people?
"That's ridiculous. You really think that'll work?"
The words slipped out naturally.
"...If I gave up thinking it won't work, I couldn't do anything. I have to try everything I can. Because it's my dream."
Grandal's dejected words struck Tiny right in the chest. They resonated with his own convictions.
"...Yeah, you're right."
Seeing Tiny's expression soften, Grandal's face lit up.
"So you'll help!?"
"Why does it have to turn into that!?"
Admitting he could even enter Elvenheim had been a mistake from the start. Since then, the dwarf had clung like glue, refusing to let go.
"Help me out!! Come on!! You're using my weapon!!!"
"I bought it fair and square!!"
"You got it cheap! I know my old man's personality!"
"..."
He had no comeback—it wasn't wrong. A flimsy lie couldn't fool a dwarf's keen eye.
And then.
"How childish..."
Jay's offhand remark stabbed like a dagger to the heart.
Still, Tiny tried pushing him away again.
"Get off me, dwarf."
"It's Grandal."
"Fine, Grandal. Get off!"
"Not until you say you'll help!! Hmph!"
"I'm older than you—how are you treating me like this...!"
"I'm a hundred fifty-nine!"
"That's not what I asked!! Why are you acting like a kid at your age!!"
"I'm just baby-faced! My beard grows weirdly slow..."
This is bullshit.
"Haa..."
Staring blankly at the sky to keep from losing his mind amid the endless banter.
"...That's why I have to prove it. That a beardless dwarf can become a master smith! That I'm not some cripple!"
"What?"
Grandal's suddenly somber face, even mid-yell, made it impossible to shove him off roughly.
"It's just a beard—what's the big deal..."
Tiny muttered weakly, but.
"Because of me, my father left the kingdom. Before he died, he wanted to return home. I want to bring him back."
... Sorry.
Facing the raw sorrow on that childlike face left Tiny speechless.
"I'll make a transcendent weapon. I'll become a master smith, no matter what. I need the World Tree branch. Help me—I swear I'll repay you."
What now?
"...You just have to make it, right?"
"Hm?"
"If you really pull off a transcendent weapon, I'll be your first buyer. Promise me that."
It was empty talk, really. Grandal's skill was beyond doubt after crafting the Stamp, but asking if he'd succeed at a transcendent weapon? The odds were against it.
No matter how masterful the rune inscription or forging techniques, no matter the materials, transcendent weapons weren't whipped up easily. If determination alone sufficed, the world would overflow with them.
But to Grandal, it seemed to hit different. He pondered, then.
"...Deal. But I can't make it right away. Need more materials. And it might fail... No, I will succeed!"
"I might not get it either, so don't get your hopes up."
"Jay told me. Said you're trustworthy—just your promise to try is enough."
"...Fine."
Only as the maddening conversation wound down did Grandal's eyes finally look his age.
One more thing for Elvenheim.
A sigh escaped, but oddly, it didn't feel so bad. Tiny didn't hate fools charging blindly toward their dreams.
It felt like looking in a mirror.
* * *
After joining Jay's merchant caravan, their pace slowed even more.
The original route to Elvenheim in under five days had stretched to triple the time.
But it wasn't all bad.
"Heard there's humans stirring trouble among the orcs, sowing discord. Around the Black Rhino tribe? Should let the Sword Emperor know."
"...Orc unrest. Understood. But what 'old man'?"
"Haha, figure it out!"
"...I'll pass that along too."
"Hey!"
He could relay the orc tribe concerns to the Sword Emperor.
"Wolf's friend and Haruel's friend. A fine pair. I'll pass the word."
They encountered patrolling elf rangers in the Great Forest often enough to secure transit passes in advance.
"How much do you know about elves, Sir Tiny?"
"Hm?"
"Elven etiquette worries me. Most elves..."
Wherever he'd learned it, Jay briefed them thoroughly on Elvenheim taboos—words and acts never to commit.
I thought hanging with Estina gave me the gist. Guess not.
Elven customs like the World Tree salute were intricate.
And.
"Damn it! Why are there so many monsters?!"
"They said the paths were cleared by elves!"
"Shit, rear guard! Hold!"
Far more beasts and monsters than expected—without the caravan, he and Garen alone would've struggled.
Not the fights themselves, but the aftermath.
Water's scarce here too.
Meeting Jay had been a stroke of luck, even if slower.
Two weeks later.
The group spotted a massive green wall beyond the path.
"That's a wall? Visible from here...?"
"Taller than that tree. Over 30 meters easy. Beyond city walls."
"What kind of wall is that high?"
"Vines?"
"Wooden, maybe."
First-time mercenaries gawked at the green barrier.
"Merchant groups cluster near that wall. Stay sharp—no trouble."
Jay warned his staff and hires repeatedly. Even Tiny and Garen.
"Elves are sensitive about outsiders in Elvenheim. Too many scams and exploitations. Getting a 'pass' usually requires saving an elf's life..."
Jay and Tiny eyed Garen, who shrugged nonchalantly at his easy pass.
"...Thanks to you, we're set. Await your news, Sir Tiny."
After chatter, they reached the vast vine wall, the green rampart.
Merchants in the open clearing before it, goods piled, turned to stare.
Specifically at Tiny and Garen heading for the wall.
"Who're they?"
"Heading to the gate?"
"Humans with passes after ages?"
"Jealous. Easy marks to fleece. Big score."
"...That's why you can't get in."
"What, asshole!?"
The wall loomed absurdly high. An arched gateway dipped midway.
They stepped in.
Shhh...
Vines parted on their own, forming a path for two.
It felt watched—and it was.
Three bird spirits...
Tiny smiled at the owls, eagles, and crows perched amid the vines, then proceeded.
The path of soft, silent grass blades. Past the thick vine wall lay another forest.
But different: trunks with door-sized knots for entry. Towering trees, human ten-stories-plus, linked by ladders and swings.
Elves leaped playfully between the heights.
All stunningly handsome, clad in leaf or cloth garb, frolicking on trees and flowers across the vast woodland.
"Incredible..."
Like the fairy glades of myth. Garen marveled; Tiny smiled around, then frowned at one spot.
"Sir Tiny, why the face...?"
Garen asked, puzzled.
"Welcome, guests. Friend of the wolf and friend of Haruel—we greet you."
A silver-haired elf approached with a gentle smile.
Behind: curious gazes on the two humans entering elven realm. Not just hidden children, but parents too.
The outlier in gaze.
"I'm Rudel, guardian of Elvenheim's walls—or outer keep steward in imperial terms. I'll guide you. Follow."
The silver-haired, silver-eyed elf before them, proactive.
She smiled like the rest, but.
"If not here for Haruel but other business, please say so now."
Her smile hid clear wariness.
* * *
"Unreal..."
Guided to a knot—room—atop a tree rivaling twenty stories, Garen gaped at the dizzying drop from the entrance.
"View's killer. True Elvenheim."
No windows or doors up high, fierce winds—normal folk would quake.
But a Superior-grade warrior leaping from here? No fatal injury.
He savored the vista.
Tiny, same room, differed.
"Living like this, human buildings must feel stuffy."
"Hm?"
"Heard an elf say that once."
"You got elf pals?"
"Pardon?"
"Sounded like it."
"Ah, well..."
Before Tiny replied, Rudel entered with wooden teapot and cups.
Pour...
"May not suit, but try. Elven tea outside—top grade."
"Luxury. Thanks."
"Appreciated."
Garen beamed genuinely; Tiny nodded curtly, to business.
"Your companion seeks an old friend, but I have other aims, as expected."
Rudel, about to sip across them, smiled faintly.
" refreshingly honest for a human."
Tiny wryly noted the negativity.
"Radiant Knight Tiny. Young hero who stopped two calamities. But... we trust no outer rumors. Only facts before our eyes."
"Pardon?"
"Like you being one who killed our sister Illein."
Rudel's eyes narrowed, radiating sharp hostility.