Chapter 81
Translator: Ace
Chapter: 81
Chapter Title: Dwarves and the Sky Island
Vulcan vividly remembered the first time he touched the suspension.
Uniform stress dispersion.
Delicate heat treatment.
And the astonishing idea of using oil pipes to absorb shocks...
This wasn't something that could emerge from the fingertips of a short-lived human.
It was clearly made by one of our own kin.
Even the elders gathered at the Dwarven Great Assembly had unanimously agreed.
Unless it was some可怜 comrade lost amid the chaos of war and swept into human society, no one could have crafted such a thing.
So Vulcan had raced across the continent to the capital in a single dash.
He had been shocked to find an entire mountain at the capital's gateway pass simply gone, but that was all.
Right now, rescuing his lost kin took priority.
Surprisingly, that kin was apparently living under the Magic Tower's banner.
Well, of course.
To human eyes, a dwarf's hammering must look like magic.
Highly advanced metallurgy is no different from magic, after all.
But...
Vulcan's hopes of finding his kin were shattered.
Snapped clean in two, like steel that had failed tempering.
Clang-!Clang-!
The steady rhythm of the power hammer filled the workshop.
Right before Vulcan's eyes, a human blacksmith was skillfully handling glowing red-hot steel.
'Impossible...'
Vulcan muttered to himself.
Dwarves are born with an innate sense for feeling a metal's structure.
It's a gift you're born with.
Just like how mages sense mana.
'Humans don't have that sense...'
Vulcan watched the human blacksmith's work intently.
The old smith named Tobin would shape the steel's basic frame with the power hammer, then the young man called Callen would seamlessly take over for precise adjustments.
They gauged the metal's internal state solely from its color and vibrations.
Extremely inefficient... but there was something beautifully earnest in their effort.
The two artisans worked on as if they were one body.
And the device enabling that flow—the power hammer itself—was said to have been devised by the human suspected of being kin, Isaac Uphills.
In other words, the suspension was the product of three artisans fused into one.
No single one's skill could match a dwarf craftsman's, but their roles interlocked perfectly, like cogs in a machine.
Tobin, deep in his work, sensed the presence and shut off the power hammer.
"Well, well, what headache are you dumping on us now?"
Tobin approached, wiping away sweat.
Isaac shook his head with a smile.
"Not work. There's someone who wanted to tour the workshop, so I brought him along."
Tobin's gaze landed on Vulcan. His eyes went wide.
"..."
"..."
Vulcan debated whether he should speak first.
What should he say?
Something like, hard work burning through your short life?
Soon, Tobin's mouth opened.
"...No way—you're a dwarf?"
"Aye... Name's Vulcan."
Vulcan extended his rough hand. Tobin grasped it hesitantly.
The human smith, Tobin, carried the sharp tang of iron on his skin.
"For a human... impressive craftsmanship."
Vulcan murmured low.
"Enough to mistake you for one of us."
"Hah... Lived long enough to earn dwarf praise. An honor. Name's Tobin."
"...For a human, you've got manners too."
Tobin shook his head at Vulcan's words.
"Just the respect due to a senior who paved the way."
"...Keep forging fine steel, Tobin."
"You too, Vulcan."
Afterward, Vulcan exchanged greetings with Callen as well.
'Both to my taste...'
He itched to gather by the forge right then and swap tales till dawn.
But pleasure would have to wait.
He had more pressing business now.
'Can't keep the client waiting.'
Vulcan turned to Isaac.
"So. What weapon do you want forged?"
At the word weapon, Tobin and Callen's eyes snapped to Isaac.
Isaac replied.
"Before I explain, can I get your promise to keep this confidential?"
"Keeping a client's secrets is dwarf etiquette 101. I swear it on my beard."
With Vulcan's firm assurance, Isaac drew a thick sheaf of papers from his robes and spread them across the workbench.
"This is it. Workshop folks, take a look too."
There lay the intricate blueprint of some mechanism.
Not mere engineering, but magitech—even Vulcan couldn't grasp it all.
Unclear what it was for... but the fabrication difficulty was absurdly high.
Dwarf Sennet territory; he'd have to dive right in.
"Ah, so that's why you sought me out, lugging around a beast like this."
It stirred his fighting spirit on its own.
Vulcan asked Isaac.
"You. What in blazes are you trying to build?"
"A warship."
"What?"
"We're building a ship that flies through the skies."
I explained the 'airship' project's outline to the workshop crew and Vulcan.
As proof of the core tech, I demonstrated controlling the floating stone.
Callen's jaw dropped.
Tobin alternated disbelieving stares between the blueprint and the stone.
Questions had to be stacking up by now.
"Any questions?"
Tobin shook his head at my words.
"It's madness. Heard even magic can barely manage flight... how the hell?"
As I opened my mouth to answer, Callen beat me to it.
"Just go with 'it works.' Chairman's conquering the skies now too."
"...That it?"
"Yup."
The pair convinced themselves without even hearing me out.
How'd it come to this?
I turned to Vulcan.
He stood arms crossed, boring holes into the floating stone.
"Questions?"
Vulcan slowly spoke.
"Truly... it flies?"
"Yes."
"Swear it?"
"Yes. On my mana if you like—or I can fly us above the clouds right now."
"..."
Vulcan glared piercingly at me.
Moments later, he spoke.
"...Nah. Me alone means nothing. With my kin aboard? Different story."
With his kin.
What did that imply?
Not some got a new ride, friends hop in first! vibe.
His words carried an odd gravity.
He said.
"Building to spec looks tricky."
"That's why I need you. Dwarven know-how."
Vulcan tapped the blueprint.
"Scale's puny—just ten passengers. Why?"
"Manpower shortage for bigger. Workshop limit."
"Then..."
Vulcan met my eyes squarely.
"If I rally my kin to help. Could you build for a thousand—not ten?"
A thousand.
I crunched numbers in my head.
Floatstone range tweak conditions pinned, principle or not.
Hauled His Majesty and me up, sustaining breathable air, temp, pressure to the stratosphere and back.
Scaling up? No issue in principle.
Efficient, even.
Floatstones: rare ancient artifacts.
No guarantee on a second.
One shot? Go battleship-sized.
I told Vulcan.
"Doable. But you'd need to bring the manpower."
Callen and Tobin murmured at my reply.
"Whoa, aerial fortress territory?"
"Fortress... No limits? Carpet a whole landmass in circuits, float an island."
"Insane... Sky Island tales turning real."
While they chugged fantasy juice, Vulcan's gaze stayed locked on me.
"..."
"..."
Vulcan's beard twitched.
Mouth moving beneath it, more like.
Something else to say?
"Other proposals?"
Hoo...
Vulcan sighed deeply, muttering.
"This... safe spilling to fresh humans?"
Vulcan eyed me, then Tobin and Callen.
He continued.
"Thousand-seater done? Ferry my kin somewhere."
"Where?"
"Sky Island."
In the imperial palace's office, Princess Isolde listened to Marquis Roxeter's report.
He sought the noble council's stance on converting all empire admin to paper.
Roxeter, the council's rep, told the princess.
"Scant opposition in the council. Save families tied deep to sheep herding."
"No factions backing them?"
"None. Parchment prices skyrocketed last year, yet they hoarded supply—council sentiment's soured against them."
"I see."
The princess breathed easier.
Expensive parchment had been a boon.
Lucky break.
'Or... not luck?'
The princess paused in thought.
Recent parchment hikes? Demand-driven, she knew.
Led chiefly by religion and the Magic Tower.
Tower: obvious, new scholarship under Isaac exploding demand...
Religion...
'Principia sparked scripture revisions—stockpiling parchment...'
Was the surge itself Isaac's ploy?
Normally, she'd peg it as his scheming...
"..."
Isolde recalled Isaac at the longevity festival.
That 'researcher mode' Isaac muddied everything.
'Luck...? Or skill...?'
Secretaries' eyes converged on the dazed princess.
She cleared her throat.
"Ahem...! Apologies. Had a matter to mull."
"Of course. We know you're pondering the empire's future."
"..."
Her conscience pricked.
Did musing Isaac's motives count as fretting the empire's fate?
...Either way, paper came first now.
'Before provincial lords catch on, capital reforms to seize lead. Fortunate.'
Assuming steady paper flow, naturally.
The princess asked her secretaries.
"Paper supply status?"
"Pushing max procurement. Uphills workshop reinvesting most profits into mill expansion. Bottleneck's temporary."
She nodded.
Uphills paper would cover capital needs for now.
But instinct screamed.
Paper's uses would explode soon.
Unknown form... but pre- and post-paper worlds? Night and day.
When it hit, what for the imperial house?
Deep in reverie, the dean's voice rang in her mind.
-'Princess. Spare a moment?'
Telepathy.
"Speak."
-'Steel Mountains seem to be eyeing our Uphills group. Thought you'd want to know.'
"...The dwarves?"
Her face twisted at the dean's report.
Dwarves mistaking Isaac for kin, trying to whisk him off.
Even one-in-a-thousand odds of losing Isaac...
Unthinkable.
'What a find he was...!'
The princess shot to her feet, addressing the secretaries.
"Bolster gate guards now. Dwarves show? Block 'em and report to me."
"...Pardon? Right now?"
"Details later."
She shelved all meetings and bolted out.
Escorts in tow, she raced to find Isaac.
No trace at the Magic Tower or foundation.
"Where'd he vanish in this climate...?"
"Workshop, maybe?"
"Workshop?"
Ominous hunch.
Straight to Uphills workshop.
"Princess! Spot-on timing."
Isaac waved cheerily.
"Spot-on...?"
No...
Trouble brewing?
Isaac said.
"That airship plan I mentioned. Dwarves are on board to help."
"They've made contact already?"
"Yes. Headed back home now."
"...A step behind."
Dwarves were hasty, sure—but this hasty?
Beyond expectations.
The princess asked Isaac.
"Empire law bars Magic Tower mages from switching affiliation pre-graduation—remember?"
"Ugh. Obviously."
Isaac breezed on casually.
"Affiliation stays. They're coming here to assist me."
"What?"
"I'll explain step by step."
She got the full sitrep from Isaac.
'Not him going—their smiths to the capital...'
Isaac beamed.
"Good news, yeah?"
"...Good news."
Play it right, dwarf tech transfer possible.
She added.
"Construction funds still imperial—don't forget."
"Naturally. Test runs with dwarves only."
Relief at not losing Isaac.
Yet questions lingered.
Why would proud dwarves descend their peaks to aid a human?
She put it to Isaac directly.
"You know why, don't you?"
"..."
"..."
Isaac stayed mum.
The princess pressed.
"Can't share with me either?"
"Sorry... Sealed it with Vulcan."
"..."
He bowed low.
'Bowing so brazen before a princess.'
Any other noble? Insolence warranting flames.
Yet oddly...
Isaac pulling this didn't grate.
"Fine. No more questions."
"Thank you, Your Highness."
She smiled.
Truth be told, dwarves' motives didn't matter.
This mage would handle it, as ever.
"...Why that look?"
"Nothing."
Just... curiosity about him deepened.
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