The Pioneers Who Delve the Darkness
Ain tribe. They were our ancestors. Our ancestors were the curious ones. Our ancestors were the creators of new things. Explorers who unearthed unprecedented answers amid the searing heat of flame and ore. Famished souls craving ever more knowledge. Ever more materials. Ever newer discoveries.
Thus, our ancestors wandered the world in search of new answers, gripping pickaxes to unearth faint truths buried deep within the earth. And in that moment of wandering, the silver prescience found them. They became pioneers treading a new path.
They were dwarves.
Thus, O descendants, take up your hammers. Grasp your pickaxes. We are forever pioneers illuminating the dark path ahead. Until the silver prescience visits us once more. We shall walk eternally.
That is what we dwarves are.
“So, you ended up venturing into the cave because digging into the ground was too hard?”
“Y-yes, that's right...”
I rubbed my throbbing temples as I looked at the humans prostrated before me.
Mom. Let's just wipe 'em out.
“I told you that's not an option. Behave yourself.”
You're way too soft on humans, Mom. It's blatant favoritism.
I could feel it myself now, so pipe down, Sagarmatha. I was starting to realize that too much favoritism wasn't good. Maybe I should help out the other races when I had time later...
“Even so, digging up caves willy-nilly? Don't you know the meaning of moderation?”
“B-but... our stone pickaxes make it hard to break rock. If it's a soft cave that's easy to dig, we could handle it just fine...”
This human spoke more fluently than the others I'd met—probably thanks to superior intelligence. Way easier on the ears than all that stuttering, at least.
“Then you could've just dug into the nearby hills. Why come all the way to this mountain? Don't you know that if this mountain gets angry, you'll all end up buried underground, reduced to a handful of dirt?”
Yeah. One little squeeze and it's game over.
“Sagarmatha. Quiet.”
I'm the one talking here.
“But... isn't this the greatest mountain there is?”
Yep. Can't argue there.
Ignore Sagarmatha chiming in.
“What we're seeking is something entirely new. Something that could upend the world. We figured if it exists, it has to be inside the greatest mountain.”
Hmm... Considering humans were still stuck at the Bronze Age, they were probably after iron. But iron could've come from anywhere—not just Sagarmatha. There were iron deposits all over the place. Still, these guys had tunneled into his cave just because “this mountain's the best, so it'll have what we're looking for!”
Smart or stupid? Hard to say.
Eh, they've got good instincts.
Sagarmatha. Hush.
I let out a small sigh and eyed the humans. Covered head to toe in grime. Wandering and hacking away in narrow caves by torchlight. Their sorry state was beyond words.
“Lucky you didn't go too deep. A little farther and you'd all be dead.”
They'd even lit torches inside the cave. Without a steady flow of fresh air from somewhere, they'd have suffocated in no time.
“There were a few cave-ins, but we evacuated without major casualties.”
“That's not the point. Lighting torches in a sealed space leads to suffocation. You die from lack of air.”
“Suffocation...?”
Hmm. Total cluelessness.
“Didn't it feel stuffy? Hard to breathe deep in the cave? Didn't the air feel different from outside?”
“Well... yeah, it did.”
“Deep in caves, the air needed for breathing runs low. Venturing in like idiots... You must have eight lives each.”
The humans fell silent at my words.
“And carrying torches to boot. Kicking up dust with your pickaxes. If I hadn't shown up, I'd have had to clear out a few corpses in a couple days.”
“Isn't a torch fine as long as you watch the heat?”
I shook my head slightly at one human's question.
“Torches don't burn on wood alone. Fire needs something in the fresh air to burn well—and that's the same stuff you need to breathe.”
No need to get into oxygen details. “Something like that exists” would suffice.
“So... putting more of that breathing stuff into the fire makes it burn bigger?”
“Uh? Yeah.”
“Then making the fire bigger would make it hotter?”
“Well... yeah, but...”
“Then could a hotter flame melt more things?!”
What the hell are these guys?
“It could melt stuff, sure, but...”
“Then we could melt all those ores we couldn't before!”
“Melting them might lead to new discoveries!!”
“Forget digging for now! Melt the ores first!!”
These idiots for real. My head spun as I sighed.
Thankfully, they didn't melt any of their ores. Human tech wasn't advanced enough for that kind of heat. Just fanning a bonfire at best—no way that'd liquefy ores. Though a few did melt a bit.
“Hotter... Need more wind...”
“But how? We're all fanning till our arms fall off!”
“Urgh... Gotta find a way... This ain't easy.”
“Wouldn't it be better to dig the cave for decent ores? Maybe we'll find ones that melt in a fanned flame.”
“True, but...”
The debating humans glanced at me, then huddled and whispered among themselves.
“She blocks us from the cave. Says the mountain's angry.”
“But... why's she stopping us?”
Yeah, why am I bothering? These fools throwing their lives away.
Should I just wash my hands of them and leave?
Mom.
“Hm? What is it, Sagarmatha? I'm doing fine keeping them out of your cave.”
I'll allow them the surrounding mountains.
“The surrounding mountains?”
The towering Sagarmatha, tallest of all. And the peaks around him. He meant those?
Anywhere but me.
“That's awfully selfish.”
The other peaks can be dug up. And... those fools have decent eyes.
I sighed softly at Sagarmatha's words. Was he doing this just from that tiny compliment? How'd my kid turn into such an easy mountain?
Of course, I won't allow myself.
“Fine. I'll pass that along.”
Even if they dug other mountains, it wouldn't be easy. Air supply issues unsolved. No firepower for smelting iron properly.
So... wait. If I tweak these humans a bit... couldn't they become dwarves?
I pondered. They loved digging. Full of curiosity. Into metalworking. Just a little nudge, and I could make the dwarves I envisioned.
Creating a race from scratch was tough, but with a base like humans, it wasn't so bad. Same with elves. Though giants and beastkin popped up unexpectedly without my help—that was practically an accident.
“Thus, with my power, I can transform you.”
I addressed the crowd: those who'd tried digging into Sagarmatha, and their followers.
“You'll get a bit shorter, but tougher bodies and greater strength. If you want more, I'll add it. What do you say?”
Other races didn't get this offer outright? I'd never been so direct before? I could grant any needed traits? Had to do it this way, or my ideal dwarves wouldn't exist!
Short but sturdy and mighty, bearded dwarves! Elves existed, so dwarves must too!!
Murmurs rippled through the humans at my words.
“Transform us...?”
“What's that supposed to mean all of a sudden...?”
“That's troubling to hear...”
Hmm. Too outlandish to swallow easily, huh? No surprise— who’d buy such a shady pitch?
“Tougher bodies sound good, but shorter? That's a problem.”
“Shorter might make cave exploring easier, no? I see upsides.”
“More strength could mean better pickaxe work?”
Amid the buzz, one hand shot up.
“I lost an arm in a cave collapse. If we accept, can you restore it?”
A one-armed man, eyes burning with desire to reclaim what was lost. I nodded.
“Easily. Trade height for the bodies you desire.”
I gathered mana, enveloped him, and regenerated his severed arm. Humans gasped at the grotesque sight—skin vanishing, bone and muscle regrowing—but he watched in awe.
Soon, the arm was whole. Clutching it, he sobbed.
“Thank you... I'll do anything. Height's no big deal.”
The miracle spread. Hands rose one by one.
“Can you make us more heat-resistant for hotter flames?”
“Of course.”
“I love crafting—better dexterity?”
“Naturally.”
“Struggling to light fires—any easier way?”
“My uncle's crushed under rock! Make us rock-proof!”
“Fanning flames is exhausting—any tricks?”
Greedy bunch. “Fine. I'll grant as much as I can.”
And so, they were reborn through my hands.