Chapter 5: Dwarves

“Mr. Kalamanis, my vision of the world may differ from what many people imagine, but I can understand your concerns. The Gisa have wandered across the continent for centuries, struggling to find a proper home. It seems no ruler truly favors them, and I’m no exception. But what sets me apart is that at least I don’t harbor any resentment or prejudice toward them. As you said, I’m even willing to accept half-orcs and barbarians—so why not the Gisa?”
Komer gracefully smoothed back his hair, which had become disheveled by the wind outside the carriage, and continued, “I can answer one thing for sure: my heart isn’t occupied only by Homer. Just as a joke, I have several women I really like, and my marriage surely requires a noblewoman of suitable status. How shall I resolve this contradiction? Mr. Kalamanis, you must know that the Flanders region in the southern Iberian Kingdom is already my territory. My other title is Viscount of Flanders. Perhaps having more lands will at least make it easier for me to arrange suitable statuses for the women I like, right?”
Komer’s frivolous attitude made Kalamanis frown. He had raised this topic with great caution, but the other man deliberately avoided giving a clear answer. Rumors about this lord’s appetite for women had already reached Cyprus, and now it seemed to have worsened. It was said he had an ambiguous relationship with Princess Lenta of the Romanov family and Princess Vero, daughter of Grand Duke Galazelin. Moreover, he seemed to enjoy the company of some lowly women of unknown origin. Could this man really become a dissolute lord? Was he not afraid it would affect his inheritance and reputation?

“Alright, Mr. Kalamaní, there’s no need for you to frown and overthink things. In fact, since the Laurent family and the entire Giza people entrusted you to me, they must have thought this through carefully. If there were other more suitable candidates, you wouldn’t have chosen me—this alone proves you have no other options. But I don’t intend to use this to manipulate you. You’ve contributed to the canal project, and I’m grateful to you. I can also understand your desire to find a way out for the people of Giza. As long as you show sincerity, I’m not an unreasonable person. But you must have the courage to shed the many bad habits that plague your people. If you can’t do that, I think even if I grant you citizenship, it will be difficult for you to integrate into human society.”

The confidence and dominance in Komer’s words left Kalamaní somewhat disheartened. It seemed he didn’t want to leave any room for negotiation at all. This guy seemed to already know everything about him—any tricks he tried would be useless in front of him. Should he just give up? No, Kalamaní wasn’t willing to surrender so easily.

“Lord Komer, we Giza people are a relatively independent race. We hope to live in your territory as guests. Of course, we will abide by the laws of your territory and can also provide financial support. But you can’t treat us the same as the other residents here. We Giza people have our own way of life…”

Before Kalamaní could finish speaking, Komer rudely interrupted him, “Enough, Mr. Kalamaní. Let me repeat once again: there are no special groups in my territory. Whether you’re a human or a half-ork, everyone is equal! Half-orks can become nobles with their own lands, just as humans can end up as penniless beggars! If the Giza people want to become part of my territory, they must obey all its laws. And when obtaining citizenship, they must also prove themselves through good deeds! If you can’t do that, Mr. Kalamaní, you’d better find another way. There’s no need to discuss this further. Let’s stop here—continuing might ruin the impression I’ve just formed of you.”

Under Komer’s firm attitude, Kalamaní had no choice but to back down. He still didn’t want to strain relations with him. Fortunately, there was still time and opportunity to negotiate slowly.

San Diego has developed into the most important industrial, commercial, and trading center at the southern foot of the Volt Mountains. To call it a city might be a slight exaggeration, but as a key town, it certainly deserves that title. The newly built canal docks are already crowded with merchant ships coming from various directions, including those from Mardan. There are grain ships from the upper and middle reaches of the Catalonia River, as well as ships from the Southern Mediterranean. Honey, fruits, wine, salt, weapons, armor, and various crafts with a distinct Southern Mediterranean style are continuously unloaded from these ships and delivered to the shops of merchants. Barbarians and half-orcs compete fiercely to get contracts for transporting goods, surrounding ship owners and merchants in an effort to secure business. As more barbarians infiltrate the interior of the Caucasus, the half-orcs feel increasing competitive pressure. Their once lazy attitude has vanished under such threats, especially since some barbarians have gained citizenship. To outdo them, the half-orcs must perform better to win the favor of ship owners and merchants. Fortunately, although humans’ fear of barbarians has diminished significantly, they still remain less close to the half-orcs, who have always lived among humans. The half-orcs can still maintain a certain advantage, but they dare no longer be careless. What surprised Komer was not the number of half-orcs and barbarians wandering the streets of San Diego, but rather the considerable number of dwarves. In his memory, there were not many dwarves in his territory; even in Mardan, the hub of foreign trade, their number was only around two or three hundred. Yet here, these bearded men, though dressed in tattered clothes, appeared full of energy. Their short dwarf boots and daggers at their waists were unmistakably dwarven. The long cloth belts tied around their waists made them look even more rugged. With their thick brows, large eyes, and dark red, shiny faces, it was clear these were dwarves. Although Komer couldn’t tell whether they were hill dwarves, high mountain dwarves, or forest dwarves, there was no doubt they were dwarves.

Seeing these dwarves coming and going casually through the streets to these inns and bars, clearly not for the first time but very familiar with the place, Komer was utterly amazed. Where did these dwarves come from? In his memory, even all the dwarves in the Caucasus combined probably didn’t number as many as those he saw today. What was going on?

The noisy atmosphere in the inn made Komer feel as if he hadn’t experienced such a lively scene in a long time, giving him a unique feeling at that moment.

“Kad, come here. Why did you take so long? We’ve already had several drinks.” A burly man with traces of wine still on his beard and large nostrils from which alcohol fumes constantly escaped greeted the few dwarves who had just entered the inn, taking a big gulp of beer while wiping his thick beard.

“Oh, Lumumba, you’re here too? We just went to the Nightingale Bar to see if there were any new updates, that’s why we’re here now.” The curly-haired burly man also shook hands with the standing burly man as a sign of friendship, then called over his companions to sit down nearby.

“Oh? How was it? Any new news from those adventurers?” The curly-haired man’s words clearly caught the attention of the burly man with the large nostrils, who even put down the beer mug he had to his lips.

“No, no adventurers or exploration teams have returned in these past few days. It’s said the paths there are very hard to find. They’ve only found some entrances and caves that have been abandoned for ages. We’ve seen those things before; though they’re relics, we all know they’re just discarded items.” Though his gaze was on the several large mugs of beer brought by the inn waiter, the curly-haired man still answered the question.

“Sigh, damn it! It’s always so worrying. This rumor has been around for years. I heard it even when I was in Sevilo. Still no real entrance found. Until when do we have to wait?” Frustrated, the burly man with the large nostrils took another big gulp from his mug and slammed it down on the table. “We can’t just stay here idling and waiting to die. The money I brought from my hometown is almost gone. Are my family and I supposed to starve here?”

Perhaps moved by the burly man’s words, several tables of dwarves in the inn fell silent, seemingly thinking about how they should live in the future.

Komer took a sip of Red Straw Burn quietly. The rich aroma of the liquor spread around, causing the dwarves at the two nearby tables to take deep breaths before turning their gazes toward him. Seeing that Komer was an ordinary human, they reluctantly looked away with a hint of disappointment. Komer found it amusing—these dwarves were truly interesting. They flocked to the taverns but only drank the cheapest light beer. No wonder business was so good; yet the tavern owner seemed unimpressed. Such light beer was mostly ordinary beer mixed with a lot of ice water. It might be barely tolerable for ordinary humans, but for beer-loving dwarves, it was far too bland.

These dwarves seemed to be from the Kingdom of Sevilo, which puzzled Komer. He knew that the war with the Mountain People’s Alliance had led to a large exodus of dwarves from Sevilo. But those dwarves didn’t like to settle in areas north of the Cordillera Wasteland; they preferred living in the South Central Ocean region. This disappointed Komer greatly. It would have been wonderful if he could get these dwarves to settle in the Caucasus, but unfortunately, dwarves were stubborn by nature, and it was hard to change their minds with others’ opinions. So why would these guys come to the Caucasus for no reason, and moreover to this inland area of Santiago? It seemed that some explorers had discovered something that interested these dwarves, prompting them to flock here. Could it be that there really were remnants of a dwarf civilization in the Volt Mountains, something he had always considered a rumor?

Swinging his glass in his hand to spread the aroma of Red Straw Burn even more, Komer pondered what was going on. He didn’t realize that his actions had already made the dwarves around him sniff curiously. Red Straw Burn, a liquor made purely from grains, was always the most expensive drink in the tavern. In places like this low-class tavern, there was usually only one or two jars kept as treasures to impress customers. The appearance of a buyer like Komer had already caught the tavern owner’s attention. If it weren’t for seeing that Komer was an ordinary human with what seemed to be wealthy attire, the tavern owner wouldn’t have offered such a product casually.

“Hey, kid, what kind of liquor is in your bowl? Why is it so fragrant? Are you trying to provoke us on purpose?” An already drunk dwarf finally lost his patience.

Looking around, Komer realized that all the dwarves’ gazes were fixed on him. He couldn’t help but smile wryly to himself. Even drinking a little alcohol seemed to cause trouble—this was way too much.

“Dwarfs, what are you shouting about over there? That’s Red Reed Burn! It’s the star drink of this tavern, made entirely from grains. Smell this rich aroma—this is the kind of drink real men drink. Just one sip will make your blood boil, and then you’ll truly feel like a man!” The tavern owner was upset. It was hard enough to get a customer willing to spend money, and now these dwarfs had driven them away—that was simply not worth it.

“Uh, boss, how much does this drink cost?” The dwarfs weren’t unreasonable brutes, and the tavern owner knew they were actually kind-hearted and wouldn’t go too far, which was why he tried to provoke them like this.

“Ah, forget it, dwarf brothers. You’d better drink some beer. One bowl of this drink is worth the cost of an entire table’s worth of drinks for today. Beer is what suits you best.” The tavern owner was telling the truth. These dwarfs were almost becoming his regulars, coming here every now and then every one or two months. Although their spending was low, they were still his regulars.

The dwarfs all gasped in shock. One bowl of drink was worth as much as what their whole table spent—that was definitely too expensive. No wonder it smelled so tempting. Their saliva was bubbling in their throats, and their gazes at Komer were filled with envy.

Seeing that the dwarfs were silent, the tavern owner felt compelled to speak up. “Dwarf brothers, you spend your days in this place, Santiago, without working. If this goes on, you might never get a chance to try this again. You should learn from those half-orcs and barbarians. Look how hard they work at the docks, mines, logging camps, and quarries. It’s tough and exhausting, but they can earn money. When they come to my tavern, they might not drink Red Reed Burn, but they do drink plenty of beer and lime wine. Unlike you, who only drink weak beer and don’t even find it shameful?”

Seeing the angry expressions on the dwarfs’ faces, the tavern owner didn’t care. “Dwarf brothers, I’m a talkative guy, but my words are straightforward. Think it over for yourselves. If it doesn’t suit you, just ignore what I said.”

Komer was surprised. The tavern owner could actually say such things—truly impressive.

“Hmph, we came here for those ancient ruins. Now, after months here, there’s still no progress. Our family is running out of money just sitting around. Do you think we want to waste time here? If we had known, we would have gone back to the south. I heard that Sparta and Corinth there are recruiting blacksmiths and potters. None of us dwarves are good for nothing. If all else fails, let’s go back to the south. Are we afraid we won’t find food to eat?” It was the curly-haired strongman who spoke, looking frustrated. “I don’t know which bastard spread the rumor that there were major discoveries at these ancient ruins here, claiming they’d found the underground world left by our ancestors, luring us all here in the hope of reaping some benefits from their legacy. Now, thisSan Diego does seem pretty nice, but what can we do? Mine coal? Cut wood? Transport goods? Those are things half-orcs and barbarians are best at. How can we compete with them?”

“Kad, there are still some clues, but progress is too slow. It takes half a month to get just a little information. If we have to wait for those exploration teams and adventurers to find the real location of the ruins, who knows how long that will take.” The strongman with the big nose also looked gloomy. “There must be something left by our ancestors, but the problem is we don’t have time to wait. Our whole family needs to live. Seeing our savings dwindle… It’s suffocating!”

Komer already had a vague sense of something. The rumor about ancient civilization ruins in the Volt Mountains originally originated from the Caucasus lord’s estate. Back then, it was mainly to attract adventurers from all over the continent to explore here and boost the fame of the Caucasus. If anything, the excitement should have faded long ago—it couldn’t possibly continue to this day. He hadn’t paid attention to such matters since then. Who would have thought there would be such a big uproar now, even luring dwarves from the Kingdom of Sevilo who had fled their homes, and they all seemed to believe it wholeheartedly. Who is really behind this scheme?