Though the Start is Humble (8)
Ammugar was mumbling some excuse or other, but I couldn't make out the words. "Even if you're trying to save money, how can you eat bread that's so tough it won't break—and there are bugs in it too! What? Shake 'em off and soak it in water? Don't talk nonsense!"
This time, Orkog's voice came through clearly. But Pelle didn't even wait for him to finish.
"You think I'd be happy seeing you guys starving yourselves to make money?! If I'd known it'd be like this, I never would've come to the inn in the first place!"
I'd never seen her this furious before, and it had me on edge too.
"It's fine if you pay me back late! I'm doing great at the inn, so don't worry about me—take care of yourselves, you old men!"
The back door flew open with a bang that nearly splintered it. Pelle slammed it shut behind her and leaned against it, head bowed, hands covering her face.
Ukun and I just exchanged glances, not daring to say a word.
After a brief silence, Pelle lifted her head. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, tear tracks glistening on her cheeks.
"Let's go. I don't want to see those idiot demons anymore."
Her voice cracked badly. Leaving us frozen like statues, she stormed out.
We left the workshop and trudged down the sweltering street. Pelle walked a few paces ahead, lips pressed tight.
How far had we gone when suddenly a voice called her name from behind? Turning, I saw Ammugar and Orkog standing in front of the workshop, waving us off.
"Pelle! Stay healthy till we meet again! Don't worry about us!"
"Hic..."
Biting her lip hard at his words, Pelle bolted forward.
"Hero! Take care of yourself!"
"Go eat something, you idiots!"
Ammugar and Orkog stood there watching us until we were out of sight. Pelle was already way ahead, so Ukun and I had to pick up the pace.
The short-legged dwarf grumbled. "Damn melodrama. Whew, outta breath already."
We made it back to the inn before lunchtime. Pelle, who'd been stifling sobs the whole way, shuffled into the kitchen with puffy eyes.
Ukun and I grabbed a quick bite, then headed straight for the Ulongde Swamp where the gagabur lurked. But first, we had to wait for Ukun to brush his teeth and wash up.
"Mmm. Gotta brush three times a day. Otherwise, by 150 you'll be toothless."
Drying his face with a handkerchief patterned in yellow flowers, Ukun dispensed his dental wisdom. Crazy dwarf.
I grabbed the Holy Sword from the wall, and Ukun let out a low whistle at the sight.
"Ooh... What's that? Stolen sword?"
"Stolen? It's mine."
"That's no ordinary blade! Can't fool a dwarf's eyes. Mind if I take a look?"
No way it wouldn't drop like a stone in his hands, so I set it on the bar.
"Hmm... Never seen a hilt like that. And it's masterfully crafted."
"Yeah? Looks pretty, but aren't there tons of fancy swords like it?"
"You ignorant bastard! Fake knockoffs and the real deal are worlds apart in the details!"
"Beats me."
"Can I pick it up?"
"Knock yourself out."
Ukun gripped the hilt and tried to lift it—but it didn't budge. Flustered, he strained harder, face turning beet red, but still nothing. He stared at me in shock.
"This... a magic sword?"
"Something like that."
"Damn... Figures... Only responds to its owner, huh...? Lemme see the blade."
Drawing it from the sheath, the blade gleamed coldly. The dwarf's face lit up.
"Such a beautiful edge! What ore is this...? Meteorite? Gambrinite? Or... terriopal?"
Muttering names of minerals I'd never heard of, Ukun gingerly touched the blade.
"No clue... But to forge something this tough, it'd take smelting super-hard ore in volcanic heat and glacial cold, millions of times over...!"
He glared up at me like I'd stolen it. "What is this thing?! Where'd you get it? No dwarf's ever seen a sword like this! What's it made of!?"
"You accusing me? It's mine—only I can wield it! There!"
No point explaining it was the goddess's gift; too complicated, and I'd just waste time arguing with a dwarf. I sheathed the Holy Sword at my waist and strode out of the hall. Ukun trailed, nagging, but I ignored him.
"Where to now! Boss, all you do is goof off!"
Marim, about to head out on deliveries, glared as I mounted the hell horse. She wore a tiny crop top and shorts like panties—basically naked.
"Dress like that, might as well wear a swimsuit."
"Not a bad idea. Anyway, be back before dinner rush!"
"Hurry up with deliveries! Quit bossing the boss around!"
Marim stuck out her tongue and blinked away. Ukun tsked at the sight.
"Look at that rude bitch, no manners. That's why you don't take in redheaded beasts."
"Says who? Anyway, let's roll."
We galloped east under the scorching noon sun.
The Ulongde Swamp sprawled between dense woods—a vast, bubbling morass steaming with heat. It was impossible to tell where swamp ended and solid ground began, choked with rotting leaves and debris staining everything dark. Twisted ancient trees loomed overhead, casting eerie shadows even in midday summer, amplifying the creepy vibe.
Ukun grumbled at the half-submerged beast skeleton poking from the muck. "What a shithole to live in. Forget hunting—you drown, no one's finding the body."
"Yeah. But if we both fell in, I'd outlast you."
He roared with laughter at the height jab, then smashed a rotten log blocking the path. It pulverized to dust under his hammer, clearing the way.
"Check this out."
Ukun pointed his hammer at a dead raccoon-like beast in the underbrush. Fur gone, skin peeled like bad burns.
"Weird way to go. Not burns—why's it like that?"
No sooner had I spoken than Ukun spotted another: a big boar, same condition.
"Whoa! What's this?"
Thinking another corpse, I looked—Ukun was staring at his hand. Red, skin flaking a bit.
"What? Sick? Or scrubbed too hard?"
"Dunno. Not fatal."
He brushed it off. "Ever seen a gagabur? I only heard from elder dwarves. Nasty fuckers."
"What'd the old fogeys say?"
"Tricksy attacks, super fast—catching 'em's a bitch. Expect casualties just for one. Two or more? Run."
Like Ukun said, gagabur were a hunter's nightmare—dangerous and lethal to normals. That's why dwarves hadn't wiped 'em out. If they were weak, those brains would've been dwarf chow long ago.
"Keep your eyes peeled, you won't get hit. Block incoming, you won't die easy."
"With this hammer? No problem. Remember? Wiped out a whole orc camp."
"Bullshit."
"Dwarves don't lie, asshole!"
"Only thing I know: dwarves brag fights sky-high without blinking. Wrong?"
Ukun grumbled that I knew dwarves too well. Back in my hero days, hunting a high demon deep in a mine city, I'd met some. City paralyzed, homes lost—and they boasted they'd cornered it, just missed the kill shot. Told 'em to go finish it; nah. Dwarves gonna dwarf: no weakness, exaggerate wins as virtue.
Without asking, Ukun launched into his orc tale. "So this axe comes at me—I slap it aside barehanded, then crack his skull like this!"
Enthused, he swung his hammer at a thick branch waist-high to me. Twaang!! It didn't snap—instead rang clear, repelling the hammer.
"Fuck! What the—!?"
Rubbing his wrist from the shock, Ukun gaped in confusion.