Chapter 489


Chapter 489. Northern Kingdom Alliance

The land we live on—this continent—is just absurdly vast. It’s said that ages ago, a peculiar elf (before they split into Forest Elves and Night Elves) wandered along the continental coast and roughly sketched out its shape.

Then the Holy Church rose to power, and the human nations along the coast brought their maps together, combining them like a puzzle until they somewhat matched the map passed down by the elves.

It’s said that a great cathedral in the Holy Kingdom had maps spread all over its floors, creating a magnificent sight.

…Well, even if we understand the shape of the land, it hardly matters to ordinary humans. After all, it’s calculated that even if one were to walk non-stop and disregard the terrain, it would take over a year to travel from one end to the other.

There are many people who never leave their hometowns in their entire lives, and few who have business on the far edges of the continent.

…Unless, of course, their hometown gets wiped out.

—Now then. The region in the central northern part of this enormous continent is lined with mountains of various sizes and is rich in mineral resources. The ones making the most effective use of these resources are none other than the dwarves.

So, this area is bustling with dwarven kingdoms.

“Bustling, you say? So, there are multiple of them, huh?”

Yeah. Even though they’re called “dwarven kingdoms,” due to the low birth rate typical of long-lived races, dwarves make up about only ten percent of the population. The rest consists of humans and beastmen. In terms of hierarchy, they are similar to grand clans of demon races like the Reiju tribe, with Night Elves and Beastmen serving them.

“Ah, so rather than kingdoms, they’re more like clan territories in scale.”

Exactly. Each dwarven king is more akin to a clan leader.

However, a significant difference from the demon races lies in the nearly equal standing between dwarves and humans/beastmen—though it’s clear dwarves hold an advantage, humans and beastmen aren’t treated like slaves. Plus, there are folks who serve multiple dwarven royal families simultaneously.

“Serving multiple royal families at once? What do you mean by that?”

Delving into history, it seems that some of the communities of humans and beastmen that are regarded as part of the “Dwarven Kingdom” were once independent nations. For various reasons and circumstances, they’ve ended up falling under dwarven dominion or control.

In ancient times, when the earth was only recently crafted by the gods, dwarves lived near forests, like elves.

“Dwarves are the ones who invented charcoal. They were the first among all races to begin metalworking, clearing forests to produce charcoal for smithing.”

Of course, they soon found themselves at war with the elves who lived in the forests. It’s said that before the discovery of coal (the “burning stone”), bloody battles continued for centuries. The dwarven racial weapon, the axe, was used for chopping down trees, while the elven racial weapon, the bow, was for shooting dwarves from afar—so, you know how it is.

“It’s a miracle we’re all on the same side now…”

Right? But actually, the dwarves are devout believers of the earth, so it seems they revere both the gods of light and the gods of darkness equally as creators.

Since demons and Night Elves are just too much of a hassle, they appear to belong to the realm of the gods of light merely to avoid being treated like their kind, and they seem quite indifferent to the conflict between light and dark itself.

Back to the topic.

Since the need to live close to forests has diminished for the dwarves, and they could no longer obtain mineral resources without digging deeply into the mountains, they began moving their living quarters to the mines.

However, problems arose there. —Food and essential supplies became scarce.

It seems dwarves weren’t too fond of agriculture (of course, there are probably some peculiar ones who love it), so they heavily relied on hunting for food. But upon relocating to the mountains, there were fewer prey than in the forests. To raise livestock, grains are essential. But immersed in smithing, mining, and crafting, dwarves found it bothersome to cultivate crops themselves.

—Thus, they decided to pass the responsibility onto outsiders.

By that time, dwarven smithing had been refined into a form of racial magic, and the weapons and tools crafted by dwarves held unique value.

“So, they create whatever they like while buying food and necessities from outside, huh?”

And in the plains nearby their bases, humans and beastmen settled in, engaging in agriculture and livestock farming while trading with the dwarves.

—However, additional problems soon emerged.

At that time, there were quite a few dangerous magical beasts rampaging in the northern part of the continent—even with dwarven gear, humans and beastmen struggled against them. Driven to despair by the magical beasts, people sought the protection of the dwarves they traded with. The dwarves, in turn, had no choice but to protect the people for a stable food supply—and thus, naturally, a master-servant relationship developed. It was a case where the people voluntarily submitted to the dwarves.

In other scenarios, there were groups of humans skilled in trade but lacking military might who sought recognition as subjects of the dwarven kingdom, and they were granted it. These folks gathered products favored by dwarves and sold dwarven weapons in return, effectively becoming subjects of multiple dwarven kingdoms.

Then there were cases where people obtained weapons through trade with the dwarves, but in excitement over their capabilities, they started wars, causing food production to stall; as a result, the dwarven trading partners snapped and invaded to subdue them.

If they were demons, it wouldn’t be surprising if the subdued became slaves. However, this is where the dwarves’ smithing magic comes into effect: the part stating, “When transferring a creation to someone, one must receive an appropriate price.”

An appropriate price. Specifically, it can’t be too little or too much.

“…Ah, so it means they can’t accept excessive compensation. They can’t dominate or exploit their trading partners either.”

Exactly. It’s probably true that they couldn’t be bothered to govern and control humans.

—In summary, the dwarven kingdom is divided into “the dwarven artisans immersed in crafting” and “the other races that support them.”

Moreover, the “others” are often subjects of multiple kingdoms, and it’s common for them to be subjects of both the Reiju and Izanis tribes in demon kingdoms.

Dwarves don’t care about territories outside their mines and have no interest in dominating other races.

The most valuable things on the continent—gems, precious metals, and dwarven-made weapons. Dwarves can produce everything with their own hands and, in essence, seek only to enhance the quality of their creations, treating everything else as mere “side tasks” or “means to an end.”

And since dwarves rarely fight among themselves—well, they do compete, but it rarely escalates to armed conflict over their crafting abilities—they maintain a loose alliance between several kingdoms.

Thanks to this governing system, dwarven kingdoms have communities of dwarves interspersed with those of humans and beastmen.

Together with the humans and beastmen subjects of their kingdoms, they are collectively referred to as the “Dwarven Kingdom Alliance” or simply the “Dwarven Alliance.”

“So, we’re currently in the territory of humans within that alliance, huh?”

That’s right.

—Fermindia Kingdom.

The name means “place that seeks iron” in ancient tongue. It’s a nation located in the rear of the northern frontlines, not yet bordering the Demon Kingdom.

Days have passed since the intense battle with Arthur and the others. We were hiding deep in the forest near a small farming village at the far edge of Fermindia Kingdom.

“Alex… are you okay?”

Leila, in her human form, peered at me with concern.

“Umm…”

I nodded as best as I could. Moving my head awkwardly threatened to reverse the almost empty contents of my stomach. I sat propped against a tree, desperately trying to hold back nausea—I had been chatting with Antendeixis to distract myself, but I was nearing my limit.

Needless to say, it was all thanks to the poison.

For the past few days, I’d been guzzling water, hoping to flush the poison out, but it seemed futile. I could barely eat anything—and even when I did, it would just come back up—leading to my further decline.

Having Leila share the symptoms through Teleportation was only a temporary fix. Without a real miracle of Detoxification to treat me, it was beginning to feel critical, according to Arthur and Bishop Lexar’s assessment.

But Arthur and the others were spiritual bodies, and using light miracles would severely damage them.

They proudly declared that if they were to disappear fighting dark beings, that would be fine, but I couldn’t ask someone to disappear just to detoxify me.

So what to do? After discussion, we decided on a drastic measure.

“Is it really going to be okay…?”

A faintly spiritual Arthur was swaying uneasily.

“Honestly, I can heal you myself, but…” Bishop Lexar didn’t look too thrilled either. “Being a non-corporeal spirit must weigh heavily.”

“Worst case, I’ll immediately revert to human form and bail. That’s the plan, okay?”

Leila reiterated with a solemn expression.

“I really… won’t let anyone get hurt… If it looks bad, I promise I’ll run away…”

“Let’s hope nothing happens…”

“Please. Seriously, don’t let us regret this any more than we already do.”

“Yes…”

Ugh, the guilt was making me feel nauseous… But this nausea, I must endure…! Poison symptoms are one thing, but throwing up due to guilt is something I simply cannot allow…!

“Alright, let’s get started then.”

Antendeixis suddenly burst out from inside me and smoothly transformed into human form.

“Now, what kind of clothes should I wear…”

With eagerness, she rummaged through her gear, pulling out clothing that was just a tad too small for us and began putting them on in style.

“How’s this? Do I look good? Hey, Alex-kun?”

Antendeixis, taking on an adorably chubby appearance in her transformed state, struck a pose before me with a cheeky grin.

“It could use a bit… more dirtiness… for that traveling look…”

“Hmm. Maybe a bit too neat, huh?”

Stopping her antics, Antendeixis rolled around on the ground. She probably figured to at least get a layer of dust on herself.

—I sighed too and cast the transformation magic.

My vision suddenly dropped down significantly. Here I was, on the brink of death from the poison, completely worn out.

The type of transformation I’d done before, where I forced myself to age up—turning into a young adult—was far too taxing right now.

So, I had no choice but to transform into an age-appropriate form.

And my age is…!

“Alex-kun is six years old!! Sooooo cute, such a little one!”

Antendeixis grinned wider than ever as she patted my head. Normally, she would be much smaller than me, but now she seemed all grown up…!

Ugh. Stop it. Don’t shake me. I’m going to be sick. Ugh!

“Whoa…”

“Hey, stop that! I’m about to throw up!”

“Once you’ve steadied yourself, we should head out. I promise we will succeed!”

Leila gently patted my back,

“Here we go!”

And scooped me up.

“Well then… I’m off…”

“I’m praying for your safety…”

“Please, let it go well…”

“For real… please don’t let us regret this any further…”

“Ugh, if it does work out, though… what’ll we do then…”

As we were watched by the anxious Arthur, Bishop Lexar, and all the Vampire Hunters, we exited the forest.

“I’m running now!”

Leila took off with me (in my six-year-old form) in her arms, with Antendeixis following closely behind.

Leila wore an intensely desperate expression, probably genuinely worried about me, rather than it being mere performance.

Meanwhile, Antendeixis was struggling to suppress laughter while trying to maintain a serious face… please, don’t you dare laugh!

Ugh, the bouncing was so rough I thought I might die… Ugh…!

—Gradually, the village came into sight.

Surrounded by log walls, probably to ward off beasts and magical monsters, the village seemed peaceful, given its distance from the front lines. It was almost completely a backwater, but I confirmed from above that there was a small Holy Church…!

So, our operation was…

“Help! Please, help us!”

Leila shouted as she ran.

“Huh…!? Who’s that, what happened!?”

An older man, presumably the gatekeeper, shouted back suspiciously.

“We are! Traveler performers!”

Leila made a compelling shout.

“My little brother! I think he was poisoned by mushrooms or something… he’s dying! Please, let us treat him in the Holy Church—!”

The kindly-looking gatekeeper’s expression shifted to shock as he exclaimed, “What!?”, his eyes widened at the sight of me in Leila’s arms. With bubbles forming on the corner of his mouth and turning pale, I probably looked like I was on the brink of death (for real)… yeah…

So, here I am, Alex-kun (6 years old), the little brother of the newly named Zilbagias, the performer.

I’m betting everything on the kindness of the rural folk, claiming to have eaten poison mushrooms and being on the verge of death.