Chapter 79

Chapter 79
Chapter 79: Never Mind The Heir, I’ll Focus On Healing

Upon listening to Baldodum’s account, a distinct realization struck me.

The dwarves residing here were profoundly exhausted.

Much like the local inhabitants of this domain, their daily existence had grown increasingly restrictive compared to their routine cycles.

Consequently, inspiration—specifically the innate urge to create—was bound to surface.

From an internal standpoint, this presented a major dilemma.

The primary livelihood of the dwarves, whether they embraced it or not, relied entirely on their craftsmanship as smiths.

Yet, abandoning that craft, or even entertaining the notion, threatened severe repercussions for both the settlement and their personal survival.

However.

Lion approached the situation from a slightly altered viewpoint.

He felt he could empathize with their emotional state to a certain degree.

‘Why are they drained to this extent?’

How might their spirits be restored to reawaken their drive for work?

Greater financial gain?

A secure everyday life?

Both served as valid answers.

Even so, an element of greater significance appeared to be… ‘fulfillment’.

‘A scenario where items fashioned by my own hands directly benefit others.’

Not merely ornaments meant to gather dust inside a home, nor instruments of violence turned against one’s kin.

Furthermore, concrete instances of success seemed necessary.

Lion happened to possess just the right solution.

It was Mudu’s set of implements.

Fortunately, Lion’s intuition proved accurate.

Initially, everyone reacted with curiosity upon learning that Mudu—who had previously departed the village—had crafted them, expressing astonishment that the items were utility implements rather than weaponry.

“Mudu produced these?”

“Of all people, he was the one among us who cherished weapon crafting the most.”

“Haha… Time is indeed a formidable force.”

The dwarves each picked up an implement for closer inspection.

It was an inherent habit shared by artisans.

They scrutinized the quality of the finish, the ergonomic considerations for the user, and the sheer effort invested into the work.

“This… I see.”

“Since this young fellow lacks physical strength, he engineered these to reduce weight to an absolute minimum.”

“Yet they remain remarkably sturdy without hindering functionality. What peculiar method did they employ?”

Seeing truly surpasses hearing a hundred times over.

Curiosity swiftly blossomed into an urge for investigation, and owing to their seasoned craftsmanship, comprehension came rapidly.

“…Indeed. Why did my thoughts remain fixated solely on blades?”

“We are fully capable of crafting implements as well!”

“If not implements, we can produce goods essential for daily existence!”

This newfound realization was put into motion with even greater haste.

Their immediate action was to revive the hearth where only embers remained.

The smelting furnace, which had previously yielded mere wisps of smoke, surged rapidly in temperature.

Before long, brilliant crimson flames burst forth, radiating intense heat.

Following this, iron was smelted, hammered, and liquefied.

Iron shards scattered and shimmering heat waves began to warm the surrounding air.

At last, the inaugural creation reached completion!

“Yes. This is the exact sensation!”

“As anticipated, crafting remains our true calling.”

Shaping iron was the fundamental instinct of the dwarves.

As that primal thirst was quenched, the expressions of the dwarves brightened organically.

Naturally, this single instance would not instantly reignite the passion of every resident whose heart had grown cold over time.

Even so, this solitary breakthrough proved sufficient.

The remainder fell to Baldodum, the village chief and younger brother to Mudu.

“Good grief…”

Baldodum’s jaw slackened as he surveyed the dwarf settlement, which had begun to stir with renewed animation.

“I understand now. So that was the reality of it.”

Confined by the burdens of leadership, he had momentarily lost sight of the fact that these individuals were his own family and neighbors.

His focus had narrowed entirely to soothing his own spirit after laying down his hammer.

They must have shared his exact plight!

“My brother has dispatched a truly invaluable person. My deepest thanks to you.”

“You are far too generous. I merely delivered word of Mudu’s well-being.”

Indeed. Lion had performed no grand deeds.

He had neither swung a hammer himself nor offered rousing speeches of encouragement.

He had simply conveyed Mudu’s status to the dwarves, displayed the manufactured implements, and handed over the memory ring to Baldodum’s household.

“…”

Clarentia, observing quietly from a distance, canted her head in contemplation.

“It is peculiar.”

Truthfully, she failed to comprehend the dynamic.

How such an interaction could restore their vigor remained a mystery.

It was undeniably an extraordinary capability.

Clarentia directed her gaze toward her own hands.

They were smooth, devoid of calluses or scars, adorned with fresh skin cultivated after ascending to the rank of Sword Master.

Yet those very hands remained stained with countless grim occurrences.

The blood and filth of monsters. Impotence and despair.

Even the lifeblood of her own siblings, spilled in the name of vengeance.

Perhaps the sheer volume of trauma experienced in a compressed span had rendered her numb.

“Ring…”

Trailing off in thought, Clarentia brought a hand to her throat.

Her bare neck felt conspicuously exposed.

“On what subject are you reflecting?”

Lion, having concluded his farewells to the village residents, drew near.

Having conversed animatedly inside the chief’s dwelling, his business appeared to be drawing to a close.

“I was pondering the inconveniences endured by the territory’s inhabitants.”

“I see.”

“My gratitude goes out to you. Thanks to your efforts, those hardships were brought to light swiftly.”

“…”

Lion offered an awkward smile.

As expected, her delivery remained stiff.

It was not out of cynicism, but rather an unyielding rigidity, akin to a statue of plaster.

‘Still, she appears genuinely concerned for the populace.’

Lion’s thoughts drifted back to that specific evening.

Namely, the night Baldodum succumbed to heavy intoxication and lost consciousness.

Marquis Clarentia had materialized without warning.

Initially, mild bewilderment had caught him off guard.

“Uh… By what means did you arrive here?”

“I was conducting patrols.”

“Unaccompanied, Marquis?”

“It has been said that this, too, falls under the duties of a lord.”

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

The dialogue possessed a distinctly disjointed rhythm, and her sudden appearance devoid of an escort raised questions, though…

It stemmed from the prior message stating he was indisposed and would be delayed.

Even so, Clarentia appeared entirely unbothered.

She effortlessly hoisted the hefty man with a single arm and made her way toward the dwarf community.

Despite the active blockade, entry was simplified due to the Marquis’s presence alongside the heavily intoxicated village chief.

Furthermore, the ring in Lion’s possession played its part in subduing their initial hostility.

“What course of action will you pursue presently?”

“My original intention was to visit Young Master Lion Asteri during his reported illness.”

Concluding her statement, Clarentia fixed her gaze intently upon Lion.

The subtext was clear: he was far from bedridden.

Rather than offering an elaborate fabrication, Lion maintained his previous awkward expression.

“I harbor no grievances against you. After all, your actions served a positive end.”

A positive end.

Undoubtedly, from the Marquis’s perspective, the revitalization of the dwarves constituted a favorable outcome.

“I appreciate your words. I shall pay you a visit at the earliest possible opportunity.”

Andriene was a craftsman defined by both meticulousness and efficiency.

Consequently, by the time Lion re-entered the inn, all labor would likely be concluded.

That being the case, he anticipated entering Bydantis Castle no later than the following day.

Even so…

Lion studied Clarentia’s impassive features.

‘What manner of suffering did she endure to reach this state?’

It defied imagination how an individual could be worn down to such a degree.

Perhaps presenting her with the necklace he had acquired might offer a fraction of solace.

After all, it constituted an heirloom and legacy of her lineage.

“Understood. I shall await your arrival.”

Clarentia departed without lingering further.

Given the caliber of her personal retainers, additional assistance would likely prove unnecessary.

Lion watched her silhouette vanish in an instant before shifting his gaze.

“Based on prior impressions, she strikes one as somewhat eccentric, does she not?”

“…”

Elvia, materializing abruptly beside Lion, withheld an immediate reply.

The Marquis of Bydantis was undeniably eccentric.

At the same time, the Young Master, who conversed with her on equal footing without friction, could hardly be categorized as ordinary, however…

“Indeed. She appears quite singular.”

Elvia concurred, divulging nothing further.

—

Concurrently, within the Asteri Domain.

“…”

Rikschel Asteri knitted his brows while perusing the newly delivered dispatch.

“My brother appears to have encountered a fair share of adversity.”

The contents detailed the following events.

Assailants had launched an offensive prior to Lion’s boarding of the warp gate.

However, the threat was neutralized entirely by the ‘Coachman’ explicitly assigned alongside Elvia, with the culprits subsequently disguised as common bandits and transferred to the Lungen Territory.

This outcome likely reflected his brother’s merciful disposition toward them.

“Eliminating them outright would have sufficed.”

Individuals who dared threaten his life merited no leniency.

Channeling mana through his fingertips, Rikschel reduced the parchment to cinders.

“How shall we dispose of those implicated?”

“Clearly, the partisans of the First Prince sought to issue a warning through this maneuver.”

Followers of the First Prince.

In truth, they demanded greater vigilance than the Prince himself.

Their overarching scheme involved manipulating the imprudent and inept First Prince as a puppet to seize control of the Imperial Throne.

The Emperor, whether aware of these machinations or indifferent, maintained an attitude of passive observation.

‘He likely harbors fears that his illegitimate offspring might target his life.’

The Second Prince, Kyle Sol Aionys.

An illegitimate heir sired during Emperor Tilius’s promiscuous days as Crown Prince.

Whether through sheer tenacity of fate, he had survived multiple assassination attempts to cement his status as the Second Prince… and

He remained the figure upon whom Rikschel pinned his hopes for the subsequent imperial reign.

Though outwardly frail in constitution, he possessed intellect superior to his counterpart, and having risen from obscurity, he understood the realities faced by ordinary imperial citizens.

Rikschel intended to throw his support behind the Second Prince as the rightful sovereign, having gathered a favorable impression during direct discourse.

The faction backing the First Prince had grown increasingly desperate upon discovering that the prospective heir of the Asteri lineage aligned with the Second Prince.

Yet, to think…

An individual named Lion Asteri had stepped forward from the otherwise flawless Asteri household.

Moreover, word had spread that Rikschel held his eldest brother in high esteem.

Consequently.

Their reach inevitably extended toward his sibling.

An occurrence they had anticipated.

Both the Family Head and himself.

Even so… to actually execute such an assault…

“This borders on the intolerable.”

Rikschel sneered, glancing toward the ash that had once been a report.

‘Had I possessed the overwhelming might of the Family Head, would my brother have been subjected to such a trivial assault?’

Surely not.

Rikschel himself was undeniably a formidable practitioner.

Having mastered the 4th Circle, he stood upon the precipice of the 5th.

Achieving such heights prior to adulthood defied normal human limits, yet

“It appears those unversed in the arcane arts remain blissfully unaware.”

The partisans of the First Prince evidently failed to grasp that reality.

“Process the lot of them and return their remains to their master.”

Rikschel decreed, wiping the residual dust from his hands with a cloth.

—

Fortunately, Andriene fulfilled her commitment regarding the garments precisely as Lion had foreseen.

Flawlessly, without a single imperfection!

“Haha… Hahaha! It is flawless! Absolute perfection! This angle! This seam! This tactile quality! It exists in the pinnacle of states!”

Though she appeared slightly unhinged from the frantic last-minute rush, the outcome remained a relief.

“You put forth commendable effort.”

“You are too kind! Thanks to your intervention, I recognized my own shortcomings and refined the craftsmanship further, meaning I am the one who owes gratitude.”

Andriene bowed repeatedly.

“Furthermore… did you not secure necessary time for me?”

“Time?”

“Although the commission originated from the blacksmith Mudu, personal delivery was hardly a requirement on your part…!”

Was… was that the case?

‘Did I overstep?’