Chapter 68: The World Seen by God (3)
As these thoughts passed through Tiamat's mind, the pulley rope finally reached its end with a clunk. The lift jolted slightly, shuddering before the front gate creaked open, revealing a narrow passageway.
From within, a face framed by a wild, bristling beard poked out, the dwarf's sharp eyes scanning each of them in turn. His gaze swept over Colton and Rohaim, then lingered longer on Dean and Tiamat as though trying to etch their faces into memory. With a grunt, he withdrew, and the heavy inner door swung open.
Torchlight flared, spilling a reddish glow down the narrow corridor. A voice called out:
"Over here! Mind your heads, humans—the passage was carved to our measure, so it may feel a bit cramped for you."
"Thank you for your consideration," Tiamat replied at once, bowing his head as he stepped forward.
The others froze for half a heartbeat at the sight of him lowering his head so readily, but quickly followed suit, ducking down to enter the low-ceilinged hall.
A short trek through the dwarven-sized tunnel brought them to a sturdy wooden door. As it swung open, the sight that greeted Tiamat stole his breath.
"Ah!"
The lift exit stood at a height overlooking the city, and from the railing he could see almost all of Feo Jula spread out beneath him.
From the outside, the dwarves' fortress blended seamlessly into the cliffs, little more than a strange outcropping of stone. But within, it was nothing less than the heart of their culture.
Flat-roofed homes of cement and quarried stone clung to the cavern walls like a vast honeycomb. They were not neatly stacked like apartments, but layered haphazardly—one atop another, beside and across, like lumps of clay pressed into place—yet always leaving paths open. Staircases and winding walkways threaded between them, while ladders and small pulley-lifts bridged gaps where no stairs existed.
All around, stocky figures bustled tirelessly. Bearded dwarves hurried to and fro, their short legs moving faster than a man's stride, slipping past one another with practiced ease through the web of streets.
Here and there, steam hissed from vents, and smoke curled from chimneys. Forges, perhaps—or workshops hammering out steel. Blacksmiths strode by with tongs and hammers as large as their own heads, their sweat-streaked faces glowing with firelight.
It was a beauty unlike anything of mankind's making. Tiamat trembled with awe. This was why he had left Shinshi. This was what he had wanted to see. Not the artificial cultures of Yggdrasil, not the fantasy sets of film or anime—but the living, breathing culture of another people.
He stood gazing in quiet wonder until Dean touched his shoulder gently.
"What troubles you?"
"It's beautiful."
"Hm… Indeed. A fine city. Their culture is plain to see. Unlike humans, who would be lost without strict order and planning, the dwarves build as they need—and somehow, it never becomes chaos. Instead, it creates beauty."
"…I see. Yes. This is good."
"Does it please you?"
"Haha."
Tiamat answered only with a laugh, following the dwarf ahead who gestured for them to proceed. Beautiful—it was undeniably beautiful, and it appealed to him. Yet, if someone asked him to live here, the answer would be different. Beauty is precious precisely because one only gazes upon it; once submerged in that beauty, it becomes routine, and routine dulls wonder.
So he did not voice that it pleased him. Someone might be listening.
"This way to the Regency Hall."
They wound their way through narrow, twisting passages until a larger structure came into view. Unlike the cramped, stacked dwellings of the streets, this building stood apart.
Even by dwarven standards, it was impressive—and to Tiamat, who had seen the towering structures of the modern world, it still counted as a sizable edifice, perhaps five stories tall. Its outer walls bore carvings not merely etched, but sculpted with such artistry that the building itself resembled a monument.
"Ah! Welcome!"
"Welcome, Thunderblade, Sky Tempest… and your companions!"
As they approached, the guards at the entrance started in surprise, then saluted sharply and swung the doors wide. There were no checks, no suspicion—their passage owed entirely to Colton and Rohaim. Only a few days ago, they had performed a great service and left the dwarves indebted; the soldiers remembered well.
Inside, they were guided into a modestly sized chamber. Modest to human eyes, but certainly not cramped by dwarven measure. Carved figurines adorned the shelves, and the furnishings bore an aged, dignified elegance. Clearly, this was a guest chamber for honored visitors.
"Where are we? I don't recall this place from before."
"Idiot, it's obviously a reception room."
"Quiet, both of you."
At Dean's sharp word, silence fell. Even that brief exchange was enough to shift the balance of the room. The dwarves who had been watching twitched faintly at the sight of Dean—older, more seasoned than the others—commanding the group's focus.
Moments later, a dwarf in dress finer than that of the soldiers entered the chamber.
"Welcome, honored guests of Dragon's Dream. I am the Supreme Commander of the Regency Council."
He bowed first to Dean, the elder among them, then to Rohaim, Colton, and lastly to Tiamat, before taking a seat. At the mention of Dragon's Dream, Tiamat's eyes widened for an instant—his surprise barely masked. But the others were too intent on the commander to notice.
"Ah, it's good to see you again, Commander. Only a few days, but still."
"Yes, indeed," Dean added smoothly, "a pleasure to meet again, Supreme Commander."
"Haha, I remain deeply grateful for what you did, Thunderblade, Sky Tempest. …But may I have the honor of being introduced to your companions?"
Colton and Rohaim exchanged a glance, locked in a silent contest before Rohaim sighed and relented.
"This is Dean, our party leader. And over there… Tite. A high cleric."
"Well met, Supreme Commander of the dwarves."
"An honor."
"Oho! So you are the leader of Dragon's Dream, Sir Dean! And a high cleric at such a young age… most impressive indeed."
The commander accepted it without suspicion. Unbelievable though it might seem, the presence of Dragon's Dream lent weight to every word. After all, Thunderblade and Sky Tempest had already shown power beyond heroes. That their party leader was here, and a youthful high cleric besides, only spoke of greatness hidden behind appearances.
"So then, may I ask what brings you to us today? Of course, as the benefactors of our people you will always be welcome, but I am curious why you have returned—this time with Dean and Tite accompanying you."
"Allow me to answer," Dean interrupted smoothly.
"We were given a new mission to survey the Azerlisia range. I came to deliver that order. These two I gathered along the way as we descended."
"I see. And Tite…?"
"Our guest is a most precious one. Do not—under any circumstances—commit a discourtesy."
"Is that so?"
The Supreme Commander glanced about, picking up on the subtle tension. Something was off. Among the four visitors, three were Dragon's Dream. The fourth—this 'Tite'—stood apart. A high cleric, young in years, and yet treated with unusual reverence… could he be of noble birth? But then again, Dragon's Dream were the kind to shrug off even an emperor's summons. For them to defer like this…
"Well then, whatever business you bring, speak to me. Since we've joined together, I am responsible for these two as their party leader. Understood?"
"Very well. Then… Lord Tite?"
"Ah, me?"
The honorific grated on Tiamat. He'd grown used to irreverence from Ea, and even Monkyspanner's formal respect had felt heavy. Now, being addressed with the utmost deference again was awkward.
"For now, I would like to explore the city."
"I see… Rohaim, Colton—attend him. Absolutely nothing must happen. Understood?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Y-yes!"
The two answered at once, their voices taut. Dean's skeptical glance followed them, then lowered once more.
"Then I leave them in your charge. Tour the city as you wish. I'll handle everything else."
"I'm in your debt."
"Of course."
"W-wait—hold on, are we deciding this so suddenly…?"
The Supreme Commander, startled at how quickly the matter had shifted into a sightseeing excursion, tried to object—only to freeze under the sudden flare of killing intent. Dean's gaze, sharp as a blade, pinned him where he sat. The chill that crept through the room stiffened every muscle, as though his entire body had turned to stone.
"Any other matters are to be discussed with me. Is that clear?"
"Y-yes!"
The commander stammered like a chastened soldier. He had thought to test the waters, to probe his position—but he had forgotten. This man was the party leader of Dragon's Dream, the superior of those two monsters who had carved through thousands of enemies. That reality settled heavy in his chest.
Meanwhile, Tiamat and the others slipped quietly out of the chamber. Only once the door had shut did the oppressive aura fade enough for the commander to find his voice again.
"Then, I'll…"
"Not yet. A few words first."
Dean's voice was ice.
"When we arrived, the men who met us looked desperate. Your soldiers, too, were unsettled. And then you, the Supreme Commander—one of the highest offices in this city—came to receive us personally. That alone speaks volumes.
"And yet the city itself runs as though nothing is amiss. So tell me. What crisis has truly befallen this place, and what is it you intend to ask of us? Start with the truth."
"..."
Already, the city's façade had been pierced. Cold sweat ran freely down the commander's brow. Dean was no mere warrior; his perception cut just as keenly. With nowhere left to hide, the old dwarf slumped in his chair and began, at last, to confess the grim state of Feo Jula, their final bastion now cornered in a desperate plight.
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