Chapter 106 – Dwarves (3)
“Put down your weapons!”
At Bolt’s command, the dwarves lowered their drawn bows.
“Phew......”
Trevor let out a sigh of relief and turned to look at me.
“......Thank you for trusting me with this.”
“Well, we did agree to this beforehand.”
“You did good—holding yourself back.”
His words made me feel a little prick of guilt.
“Don’t act like you know me so well. Anyone would think we’ve known each other for years.”
“......”
Trevor gave me a strange smile.
“Did I hit a nerve?”
“No?”
“Looks like I did.”
“I said no.”
“Alright, alright. Let’s say I didn’t.”
Watching his annoying grin, I could feel something bubbling inside me.
‘I should really teach this guy a lesson.’
If he wasn’t injured, I wouldn’t have hesitated to smack him on the back of the head.
‘......Sigh. I should be the bigger person and hold back.’
My eyes drifted to Trevor’s empty knees, devoid of legs. Suddenly, I remembered a memory from the past.
“My lord! What would you like to do once the war is over?”
“Why are you asking all of a sudden?”
“You’ve asked me once, too, haven’t you? What I’d do when the war ended. I’ve been curious about your answer too.”
“Now that you mention it, you said you wanted to live on a wide-open plain and farm, right? And use Urha as a watering can.”
“Hahaha, yes. Would you like to join me?”
Back then, I didn’t hesitate to shake my head.
“How much more of a pathetic family man do you want me to be?”
“Sorry?”
“No thanks. After the war, I just want to live happily with my family, not with sweaty men.”
“That sounds nice, too. Then, how about taking a trip with Andy sometime?”
“A trip......?”
“Yes! My hometown is known for its beauty, isn’t it? I’ll serve you a meal made with crops I grew myself, the renowned crops of the Swordsman of Illusions!”
“Hmm...... Well, I’ll think about it.”
“Is that a promise?”
Trevor beamed at my answer.
“Or I might not.”
“You shouldn’t go back on your word.”
“Hey, your hometown’s in the middle of nowhere and it’s far from my place.”
“Distance doesn’t mean much to someone like you, anyway, my lord.”
“Oh? So you’re saying that my suffering is none of your business, huh?”
Trevor was cheerful back then, and a real chatterbox.
“What’s a little hardship, really? Even if it’s a journey across the continent, think of it as priceless memories with your kid.”
“Andy would hate it more than me.”
“If I were Andy, I’d be jumping for joy! Who wouldn’t love a trip with their beloved father?”
Trevor smiled brightly as he pressed me further.
“They say kids these days hate going through hardships. It’s not like the time when we were young.”
“If Andy does complain, I’ll give them a piece of my mind. I’ll say, ‘What’s the use of having a perfectly good body? Get up and move!’”
“Seriously, leave the nagging to me. I’m a champion at that.”
“Andy needs to know, too. Even when life is hard, when you fall and feel like giving up, even if you lose everything...... As long as you have both legs, you can always stand back up.”
Back to the present, I let out a long sigh. The one who said those words no longer has strong legs—or even arms.
And here I was, practically forcing him to stand back up again.
“......Let’s just go eat.”
“Huh? That’s a bit random.”
“Hey, we’ve taken care of the urgent stuff! We need to eat to keep going, don’t we!?”
Annoyed by Trevor’s questioning look, I snapped at him.
‘If you really aren’t the traitor......’
I then vowed to myself. I would be the legs he no longer had.
The uncomfortable journey continued for a while. Eventually, under the dwarves’ strict surveillance, Ancelot’s group arrived at their destination.
“Wow......”
A few members of the party gasped in awe, their jaws dropping to the floor.
Humans cherished their cultivation methods as if they were more precious than life itself.
Yet Trevor had generously shared these secrets with the dwarves. He’d even tailored them to fit their bodies perfectly.
‘Of course, we’re not yet as skilled in mana control as human knights.’
But in a game like arm wrestling, it wasn’t mana that mattered. Strength and technique were what counted—things that were deeply rooted in dwarf tradition.
And so......
‘......There’s no way we’ll lose to these humans.’
It was certain that retreat wasn’t an option. That bastard probably threw the bait, knowing they’d have no choice but to accept.
Indeed. There was no way that his mouth wasn’t that of a demon’s.
‘Alright. I’ll crush your spirit right here and now.’
Bolt’s grin widened.
The first blow was crucial in any fight, after all. If this contest allowed him to exact some revenge on these humans, so much the better.
“Everyone, gather ’round!”
Having gathered his thoughts, Bolt called out to the others. More dwarven faces appeared from various holes in the mountain, curious about the commotion.
“A-Are they going to fight?”
“Shh. Bolt knows what he’s doing. Let’s just watch.”
A crowd quickly formed a circle around them.
“Any special rules in mind?”
He was willing to accept most of their terms. After all, this was their home ground. Even if they lost on their terms, he wouldn’t change his mind.
If they lost, they lost—he wasn’t about to stoop to the humans’ level of dishonor and betrayal.
But then.
“We can’t have people getting hurt...... so let’s not use our mana holes.”
“......!”
But the demon bastard took it a step further.
‘What did this lunatic just say?’
Bolt blinked, unsure if he’d heard correctly.
“Are you serious? No mana holes?”
“Is that rock dust clogging your ears?”
“......”
He wasn’t kidding.
Bolt was ready to offer them an advantage, but Ancelot had imposed a handicap on himself instead.
“Oh! One more thing.”
“......What now?”
“Winner stays on. The winner keeps facing challengers until they lose. And if you lose the match, you’ll shut your mouths and treat us like proper guests.”
“......”
Bolt, who had been listening, slack-jawed, burst into laughter. He especially liked the part about ‘shutting their mouths’.
“And if we win?”
“We’ll do as you say. If you want, we’ll sleep on the ground, leave—whatever.”
“You’re not half-bad, demon. For the first time, I like you.”
Bolt meant it. This kind of boldness was rare, even among young dwarves.
“Let’s make it quick. I’ve got soldiers to feed and might need to borrow some tools for it.”
“Heh heh heh, fine by me.”
Bolt nodded and shouted.
“Wheel! Nut! Wrench! Sten! Step forward!”
Four more dwarves emerged, each with thick, muscular arms easily twice the size of most others—born warriors.
“And who’s your representative?”
“Right here.”
Ancelot pointed to himself.
“......Demon bastard, you’ll step forward yourself?”
“Yup.”
For the first time, Bolt hesitated. Even after everything, wasn’t he still a human child?
“......I’m saying this for you, but it’s not too late to change your mind. If you’re not careful, that frail wrist of yours might snap......”
“Do dwarves fight with their tongues now?”
“......!”
Bolt’s muscles tensed, veins bulging in his arms.
“......Heh heh heh, fine. And the rest of your team?”
Bolt decided not to get caught up in the provocations of that demon bastard, to which he had now become accustomed.
“Didn’t I say? Winner stays on.”
“......?”
“What’s the point of knowing who’s next? I’ll be all we need.”
“......”
Of course, that’s what Bolt had told.
***