Chapter 71: Because It Is All Too Fragile (1)
A black shadow streaked across the skies above the dwarven city. In the blink of an eye, Tiamat vanished from the rooftop, leapt across the streets, and reached the city walls—all in barely a minute, using nothing but raw physical strength. No magic, no skills, no abilities, just pure muscle.
Faint sunlight trickled down. Below, steam and smoke rose while the clamor of voices echoed up—together, they filled the air with a strangely pleasant vigor. Yes, it felt good. The exhilaration lifted Tiamat's spirits higher and higher.
Right now, Tiamat was riding the peak of euphoria. A body that never tired, brimming with vitality and power. A fantasy world he thought could only exist in imagination. An endless expanse of pristine and beautiful nature. He had said it before, and he would say it again: this other world was the best.
On top of that, he had explored the dwarves' city—crude but charming in its own way—and been treated to fine drink. If he weren't in high spirits, that would have been stranger.
Only the food put the brakes on his joy.
"Here, try it! My tavern's proud specialty stew!"
"Oh, thank you kindly!"
"Lord Tite, is something wrong?"
"No, nothing at all."
He forced a smile at the time, but couldn't stop the twitch at the corner of his lips.
What on earth was that greasy, charred mess? The dried meat had twisted into hardened knots in the oil, as if screaming in agony. The vegetables had withered into limp, lifeless shreds. And when he asked if they had any seasonings, the innkeeper proudly brought out shriveled garlic chips and a blackish-gray salt that looked more like ground rock than spice.
Yes, he knew spices were precious in medieval times—but he hadn't wanted to learn it this way. The rancid stench alone was proof enough.
Instinctively, Tiamat rummaged through his inventory, only to despair at finding mountains of gold, jewels, rare items, and valuable consumables—but no foodstuffs, no spices.
When he asked for something else, they brought a rank stew, a watery soup, and bread so hard it was indistinguishable from stone.
Crunching down on the rock-hard loaf with the force of his jaws left the dwarves, Colton, and Rohaim all wide-eyed—but it still tasted terrible. Bread half-burnt in a soot-stained oven, without yeast, sugar, salt, butter, or oil—it wasn't bread, it was just a lump of baked flour.
In the end, while the others smacked their lips and praised the greasy stew and stone-bread, Tiamat could only drink beer. The sharp, chilled flavor washed away the grease and soot from his mouth, restoring his mood.
The rounds of beer kept coming. At first, they admired the view of the city below, but as the alcohol flowed, conversation drifted toward small talk. Walls of formality melted under the influence of drink, until they were openly chatting about anything and everything.
Of course, Tiamat couldn't actually get drunk. Even in a different form, his level 100 stats, passive skills, and equipment were unchanged. He could drink a ton of near-pure alcohol and barely feel a buzz. A few mugs of beer were nothing.
Still, he felt good. The fine taste of beer, the scenery, the fresh new world—all of it lifted his spirits. On top of that, the dwarves' culture fueled his love for fantasy, and the beer was far better than expected.
In short—he was intoxicated by the atmosphere.
And then came the dwarves' laments, which acted as fuel for the fire.
"Because of those beasts, it's been nothing but trouble lately…"
"Ah, you mean the Quagoa are still giving you grief?"
"Yes. Thanks to you dealing with their raid, we've had a breather, but the air is still strange. The higher-ups are clearly hiding something. I don't like the feel of it. Have you heard anything?"
"I've got suspicions, but nothing I can say for sure."
"I see… well, as long as you've come back, I suppose we've nothing to fear."
Listening to the back-and-forth, Tiamat's curiosity stirred.
"Excuse me, but… what exactly are Quagoa?"
"Quagoa? Ah… if you've never seen them, it makes sense you wouldn't know. They're a subspecies of beastmen, ratfolk of a kind. They can't handle sunlight or cold, so they live entirely underground. They consume minerals to strengthen their bodies, and they have just enough intelligence to form tribal societies. To us dwarves, they were never much of a threat… until a few years ago, when they suddenly began organizing in massive numbers. Thanks to that, we dwarves ended up in this sorry state."
"I see… Then, if they were to disappear, what would happen?"
"Disappear? Well… we'd reclaim our lost cities and work toward prosperity again, of course. Why do you ask? Are you planning to help us?"
"Depending on my mood."
"Bah, don't be so frivolous. You look like a noble's son. Even if you've got guards, you can't just act as you please. If you're here to sightsee, then sit quietly, take a look, and leave."
Thinking it mere drunken rambling, the innkeeper of The Leaky Cask let out a scoffing laugh, his beard quivering, and went back to chugging his beer.
That dismissive attitude struck a chord in Tiamat. Perhaps trivial to others, but to him it was enough. Enough of a reason to move. Enough of a spark to act.
So he did. And just as he had told the dwarf—he felt like stretching his strength a little.
"Haaah… When will those bastards attack, I wonder…"
"If you're tired, go take a nap. I'll keep watch."
"But still…"
"It's been two days already, hasn't it? Once you return, I'll get some rest too."
"…Fine. I'll leave it to you, then."
Vaulting onto the city wall, Tiamat slipped past the guards and hurled himself into the dark beyond. Yet not a single dwarf on watch even noticed. The gap in power was simply too vast; their senses couldn't even register the disturbance.
To so much as catch a glimpse of his shadow would require at least a 9th-tier detection spell from a high-level magic caster, or an 8th-stage sensory skill—and unfortunately, no dwarf in the city possessed such power. If they had, they wouldn't be losing ground to Quagoa in the first place.
Landing silently beyond the walls, Tiamat gazed into the distance. From the depths of the cavern came eerie howls, broken mutterings, and guttural cries. Confirming this, Tiamat whispered into the dark:
"You hear me?"
No one was there. No presence stirred. His senses told him he was utterly alone—yet he called again.
"Ea. Do you hear me?"
Still no reply. His words scattered hollowly into the air. But then Tiamat's tone hardened; this time, it was not a call but a command.
"This is an order. Answer my summons, Ea."
Power infused his words, stilling the air, scattering dust, sending faint tremors through the silence. A few seconds of tense stillness passed.
For a moment, Tiamat wondered if he had imagined things. Foolish, really. Even for a stalker as obsessive as Ea, this was too much to assume. He almost muttered an apology to the empty air—when a calm voice brushed against his ear.
"…Did you know all along, my master?"
"…! Ah, of course. I knew everything from the very start."
He spoke evenly, but it was pure bluff. In truth, he had nearly cried out in shock. Only by sheer force of will had he kept his composure. Cold sweat trickled beneath his armor; if one were to lift his robe now, gooseflesh would be plain to see.
The apology he had meant to offer Ea was swallowed back. So it was true. Against all odds, his wild suspicion had caught her. The improbable had become reality.
"From the very start, you say… Then all those clumsy, awkward moments—were they all just an act?"
"…Naturally. Merely a performance, nothing more."
A lie, plain and simple. But with the absolute loyalty an NPC held toward their master, she would believe it. Even so, Tiamat felt a flicker of guilt.
"I see! Well, I must admit… I rather liked that cute side of you. I thought it suited you, my master."
"…Is that so."
"So tell me—how did you find out? I was certain you'd never notice."
"Isn't it obvious? You think I'd go out alone and not expect to be watched? Of course something felt off."
Yes… it had been in that conversation with the dwarf innkeeper.
The man had said he seemed like someone of high birth. Perhaps the dwarf thought him merely a noble's son with escorts. But when Tiamat looked back on himself, he realized—he was something far rarer. Something far more precious.
He was the hidden master of a city whose power could sway the world, the one who governed all of Shinshi, wielding authority beyond kings or gods. Life and death, immortality itself—such gifts or denials lay in his hands. At least, that was how all within Shinshi saw him: the image of the Absolute God, Tiamat.
Of course, Ea probably knew fragments of his true self—but she was wholly bound to him. The Twelve Priests, even if created by other hands, now answered solely to him. And under them, every NPC, every subject, lay under his dominion.
In other words—Shinshi was Tiamat.
Without him, Shinshi could not exist. He alone commanded Ea, the system's core, and as guildmaster he was the axis upon which all turned. Should Tiamat vanish, it would mark the end of Shinshi itself. NPCs ruling in his stead? Impossible. Even with guild systems intact, the foundation was the guild items—and only the guildmaster could wield them. Without the player, the guild was but an empty shell.
And yet, to allow him to wander outside without surveillance? That was unthinkable. In Shinshi, even the strongest guardians would always keep him in sight. His existence was far too important.
But what if someone were always watching—closer than any guard?
His thoughts leapt to Ea. As an NPC bound to a guild item, perhaps she was watching through that very bond. The idea had been a half-hearted guess when he first spoke aloud, but it had proven true.
If not, it would have been nothing but muttering to himself. But since he had been right… it meant he had a constant, hidden safeguard. A little unsettling to think of, but at least he wasn't alone.
"…So you noticed me from that line of thought. As expected of you, my master!"
"Don't call me that. From now on… yes, call me Master."
"…Master. Hm, that has a fine ring to it, my master!"
"I said—Master."
"Yes, Master~ What do you need of me~?"
"And stop that voice. Just speak plainly, with respect."
"…Understood, Master."
The shift from coy sweetness to formal clarity made Tiamat shiver, but at least it settled his nerves. He drew in a steadying breath.
"I intend to use a bit of power. Will that cause any issues?"
"Ah… so the dwarves have caught your favor, have they?"
"Yes. I wish to aid them in their plight. What do you think? From what I've observed, there are no other players or related presences nearby."
He hadn't been entirely careless. While traveling with the others, he had kept detection active, and in the dwarven city he had watched closely, revealing himself only as much as he judged safe.
But remembering Ea unsettled him. His body, his mind, his confidence—all had been sharpened since arriving in this world. But if other players had undergone the same transformation… that was a concern. That was why he sought her counsel.
"As you judge, Master—no other players or connected forces are present. Since you departed Shinshi, you are unobserved. Do as you please. Let your strength, your majesty, even a fragment of your wrath, descend upon those creatures who dare provoke you."
"…So it is as I thought. Good."
The last trace of hesitation vanished. He would act.
He pondered which power to call upon, then decided. Among the countless spells, skills, and functions at his command, one stirred his curiosity. How would it manifest in this world?
The incantation began. A burning red magic circle flared to life, engulfing him, expanding into intricate three-dimensional form. One minute passed. Then two. Then three. Each heartbeat swelled with rising power.
The wall of stone shielded the glow from the city's side, but across the cavern, where the Quagoa gathered, a commotion stirred. They could see the blazing light—yet had no means to respond. Their cries echoed uselessly.
And then the spell reached completion.
"Come forth… my legion—Dragon Strike."
******************
If you want to read 10 advance chapters ahead.
Visit my patreon: patreon.com/Vanity01