Chapter 48: An Unusual Bet (2)
The dwarves began to swarm in. According to the novel's setting, dwarves couldn't tolerate anyone touching their reverse scale like this. Soon, a circular crowd of dwarves surrounded Auron Blaine, Sharel, and Celt, and they all started ranting excitedly in their own ways.
"That arrogant human bastard! Daring to bet a critique of a blacksmith clan's masterpiece?"
"Clan chief! What are you waiting for? Accept it already!"
"We can't just accept it outright. Can we swear on that golden hammer?"
"He means swearing on the God of Blacksmithing, Vulcanus."
"Exactly! The fact that scum like you wields that hammer means you have Vulcanus's blessing. I don't know how a mere human got it, but break the oath, and divine punishment will strike you down."
"Heh heh, what about the opposite outcome? You guys ever think of that?"
"Not a chance!"
"Who's the arrogant one here? Hard to tell."
"Swear it! On the golden hammer!"
"Fine. God of Blacksmithing, Vulcanus, I swear on this golden hammer and my honor to take on this bet."
The gods, who had been half-asleep, started reacting. Ten gods chimed in with their opinions, cheering Auron on—but one thing was clear: most were ready to bail if he lost. Of course, he wouldn't have made this crazy bet if he thought he'd lose. Releasing the dwarves he'd gone out of his way to recruit at this point? No way.
But if he won, he'd secure the dwarves' loyalty and skyrocket the territory's development. The output from over two thousand dwarves would be immense—the whole territory would transform on a massive scale.
"Now you lot swear too. If you lose, you pledge loyalty to me. For real."
"Hmph! God of Blacksmithing, Vulcanus, if we dwarves lose this bet, our entire clan pledges loyalty to the Blaine family! Gods, please oversee this for a fair judgment!"
Whoosh! The sky cracked open. Was Vulcanus himself about to respond? He hadn't expected the stakes to escalate this far.
"I have watched your tale with interest. In the name of Vulcanus, I stake my honor on this judgment."
"Woooaaah!"
"Keh heh heh! We're free!"
And with that, the three-day bet began.
That night, production kicked off for the next three days. The dwarves had to craft something exceptional using their own skills, balancing artistry, practicality, and originality. The pieces would be judged directly by Vulcanus and the other gods.
The gods withdrew as soon as the bet started, figuring they couldn't judge fairly if they watched the process. Auron would use territory resources, as would the dwarves, but they could request materials from the territory stocks. Fair enough.
Auron, Sharel, and old man Kane were at Aria's workshop. Neither Sharel nor Kane believed he'd win.
"Bro, what the hell are you planning? Anything you make won't stand a chance against dwarves."
"Indeed, miss. This bet is overwhelmingly against the lord!"
"That's just conventional wisdom. Why should human ingenuity lose to dwarves? I say it won't."
"Dwarven originality and artistry are on another level. With practicality factored in, it's even tougher."
Old man Kane sighed. Even a dwarf's half-assed work sold for top coin—why stir up this mess?
Auron shrugged. "If you say that after seeing this blueprint, I'll build a castle."
"Hmph! Building a castle? Big deal."
"Oh yeah? Then I'm your little brother."
"Don't you forget it."
Aria returned from her outing, buzzing with excitement—she'd heard the rumors.
"My loooord!"
She charged like a bull. Dodge or not? She crashed into him, planting a kiss. Sharel turned away like she'd seen something filthy.
"You bet the dwarves?!"
"Yeah. For this bet, I absolutely need that mana engine you developed."
"What?! You've got another crazy idea?"
She was thrilled, practically gushing blood from her nose. Who'd doubt she was a magitech genius through and through? Hope no blood splatters the blueprint.
Whoosh! Auron unveiled his ace: the blueprint. Sleek wings, body, and propeller. The drawing alone screamed artistry—he'd been shocked drawing it himself. Probably thanks to the goddess of music and arts, Savitri, watching over him. Her blessing stirred an artistic soul deep within. This design could win top prize in a modern contest. Practicality? Loaded bomb bays for mana bombs, wing magic circles for 3rd Circle Fireball and 4th Circle Fire Field. Plus, rings for aerial transport.
But first-timers would scratch their heads.
"Ah, it's beautiful!"
"Pretty, but... what is it?"
"Weird shape."
No concept of flight here. Only high-circle archmages could Fly. Airplanes? Unimaginable. Dwarves too—even with mana engines, propellers for flight? Like geocentrists dismissing heliocentrism.
Auron shrugged. "An airplane. Flies through the sky."
"Wh-what?!"
"Crazy! It flies?!"
"That possible?!"
"Totally. Perfectly feasible."
Pffft! Aria nosebled dramatically, then jumped up, blood streaming. "Greeeat! Amazing!"
"No way it flies..."
"It will! Perfect engineering!"
Sharel and Kane didn't get it, but Aria grasped the principles. That's Aria for you—continent's top magitech engineer.
"Attaching a propeller to the mana engine? Easy, right?"
"Totally!"
"Heh heh heh, skipping biplanes straight to monoplanes. No way dwarves match that."
"Biplane?"
"Ah, a primitive precursor I considered."
"Hee hee, finishing this changes warfare forever?"
"And revolutionizes transport. Military secret, obviously."
"Yeeesss!"
She fist-pumped. Tight for three days, but mana engines were tested. With Aria's artisan crew, nonstop work would yield a beauty.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Dwarf workshop. They'd built a proper forge in a day, smelting iron nonstop. Two days left to unveil. Win, and freedom; lose, eternal loyalty to the territory. But none imagined defeat. They'd already forged a lightweight mithril carriage frame, assembling mana wood nearby—like dozens of train cars linked.
"Move it! No time!"
"Yes!"
"Give that arrogant Auron Blaine a smackdown! Trampling blacksmith pride? We'll flatten his nose! When's the mana stones?!"
"Here! Territory had plenty stocked."
"Makes sense—they hunt monsters daily. Quick, load the magic circles!"
Clang clang!
Mana stones into the hexagonal magic circle on the carriage floor—Celt's design. It levitated on wind, then ten horses pulled. No friction, so easy; wheels deploy for braking.
Dwarves figured unmatched originality, art, utility. Logistics revolution for heavy loads.
Celt paused hammering. "What're those human lords making?"
"Super secretive. Rumors say some transport thing."
"Hmph! Even if they make a carriage, think we'd fall for levitating ones?"
"No way."
"Our victory! Back to our lands soon!"
"Ooooh!"
But they'd never seen a locomotive. Mana-engined behemoths for massive cargo? No gloating then. Underestimating Blaine's magitech was their fatal flaw.
Bet day. Three days of nonstop hammering echoed; judgment time. Gods judging—none suspected bias. But Auron knew Vulcanus backed him, so slight favoritism possible. Still, his entry aced all criteria—no fear of fair judgment.
Murmurs! Territory square packed with residents. Human curiosity outdid any beast; they craved the reveal. Auron let them. Time they learned magitech's glory.
And the gods arrived.
"Oh ho!"
The gods were hyped too. A Diamond Random Box? Jackpot today.