The sights and sounds of Dwargon pulled Atem's attention in every direction. Blacksmiths hammered sparks into the air, merchants shouted over prices, and the smell of grilled meat drifted from food stalls, making even Gobta's stomach growl loud enough to draw stares.
"Master, this place is amazing!" Gobta said with stars in his eyes. "It's like… paradise!"
Atem gave him a sharp look. "Paradise or not, mind your steps—"
But before he could finish, Gobta stumbled right into a passing adventurer.
"Oi! Watch where you're going, you filthy goblin!" the man snapped. He was tall, armored, and carried a longsword at his hip. Behind him stood three companions: a robed mage, a spear-wielding fighter, and a female archer. All of them glared down at Gobta with open disgust.
Gobta rubbed his head awkwardly. "S-sorry about that…"
The swordsman sneered. "Hah, what's a pack of monsters doing wandering around freely? This kingdom isn't your playground."
Atem stepped forward, cloak shifting around his shoulders. His eyes were calm, but there was an edge to his voice. "That's enough. He made a mistake. Leave it at that."
The mage squinted at him, then at the Direwolves. "Hold on… those wolves are tamed? And—" his eyes widened, "—you're human, but your aura feels… strange."
The archer smirked, already drawing an arrow. "Maybe he's just another freak pretending to be strong. Let's put him in his place."
The Oracle's voice hummed in Atem's mind. <
"I don't plan on showing weakness," Atem thought back, his eyes narrowing.
The swordsman shoved Gobta, knocking him to the cobblestones. "Get lost before I cut you down."
The Direwolves bristled instantly, growls echoing through the street. The crowd began backing away, whispering nervously.
Atem's patience snapped. "I warned you," he said coldly.
The archer released her arrow. It streaked through the air straight toward Atem.
His hand snapped up. A faint shimmer of magic flared, and the arrow froze mid-air—caught by sheer magical force. Atem flicked his wrist, and the arrow spun around before embedding itself into the wall behind her with a sharp thunk.
The crowd gasped.
The adventurers froze, shock flashing across their faces.
"Impossible…" the mage whispered.
"Not impossible," Atem said, stepping forward. "Just far beyond your skill."
The swordsman roared and swung his blade down at Atem's head. Atem sidestepped smoothly, eyes flashing. His hand shot out, golden light sparking as a spectral chain appeared—part of his [Millennium Soul] skill. It lashed around the man's arm, binding him mid-swing, before Atem yanked hard.
The swordsman slammed into the ground, armor clattering against stone.
"Pathetic," Atem muttered.
The mage shouted, raising his staff. "Fireball!" A blazing sphere shot forward.
Atem's eyes narrowed. He extended a hand. "Dark Magician!"
With a swirl of magic, the cloaked sorcerer manifested at his side, staff glowing. He raised it high, chanting a spell, and the fireball was swallowed by a vortex of darkness before disappearing entirely.
The mage staggered back in disbelief. "That… that's not possible!"
"Your tricks are child's play," Atem said. Dark Magician's eyes gleamed as he lowered his staff, ready to strike.
The crowd panicked now, scattering in every direction.
"Guards! The monsters are attacking!"
"Somebody stop them!"
Atem clenched his jaw. Tch. This is being twisted against us.
Armored dwarven guards stormed into the street, weapons raised.
"What's going on here?!" the captain barked. His gaze swept across the chaos: four adventurers on the ground, Gobta still shaken, Direwolves growling, and Atem standing tall, magic still crackling faintly at his fingertips.
The adventurers scrambled up and pointed.
"It's them! The monsters attacked us out of nowhere!"
"That man—he summoned a demon to fight us!"
The Oracle's calm voice echoed inside Atem's mind. <
"…So be it," Atem muttered inwardly.
The captain raised his spear. "By the order of King Gazel, you are under arrest. Resist, and you will be cut down."
Atem met the man's gaze, his aura sharp and unyielding. For a moment, tension coiled in the air, heavy enough to make the onlookers hold their breath.
Then, with a slow exhale, Atem raised his hands. "Very well. I'll come quietly."
"Master?!" Gobta yelped, eyes wide.
"Silence," Atem ordered. "There is no need for bloodshed here. Not yet."
The Direwolves whined but lowered their heads at his command. Dark Magician dissolved back into his Spirit Deck in a shimmer of light.
Chains were placed on Atem and his group as the guards surrounded them. The Oracle whispered softly. <
Atem's eyes remained calm as he was led away. Then I'll play their game… for now.
And so, not even a full day into Dwargon, Atem and his companions were shackled and marched toward the palace dungeons—his first step into diplomacy already mired in chains.
The clang of iron echoed as the heavy cell door slammed shut. Atem hit the stone floor with a grunt, landing on his back before sitting up. His goblins slumped down beside him, rubbing their heads, while the direwolves curled up against the wall, ears twitching uneasily.
The dungeon reeked of damp stone and stale air. Torches flickered weakly, throwing long, uneven shadows that stretched across rows of cells.
Gobta rubbed his head and pouted. "Lord Atem… why'd they lock us up? We didn't even do anything wrong!"
Atem crossed his arms, glaring at him. "Gobta, you picked a fight with adventurers, then almost got skewered. Be glad we're alive. Honestly, you'd be hopeless without me."
Gobta flinched. "E-Eh… when you say it like that…"
Atem sighed. First day in Dwargon and I'm already rotting in jail. Great start. This is not how I planned my diplomacy trip.
A low, gruff voice drifted across the dungeon.
"Hah. Looks like I'm not the only unlucky one today."
Atem turned his head. In the cell across from his, a broad-shouldered dwarf sat with his arms crossed. His beard was thick, his eyes sharp even in the gloom, and his posture screamed pride.
The goblins gasped. "A dwarf!"
The man gave a short nod. "Name's Kaijin. Blacksmith by trade. Or at least… I was. Until that damned minister tossed me in here."
Atem tilted his head. "A minister? Why?"
Kaijin's jaw tightened. "He demanded I forge a weapon beneath my standards. I refused. A craftsman doesn't put his name on trash. So he called me insubordinate, and now I'm here."
Atem smirked faintly. So that's how it is. A man with pride in his craft. Interesting.
The Oracle of Eternity stirred in Atem's mind, its voice calm and echoing.
"This dwarf, Kaijin, carries no deceit. His soul is bound to the hammer, his pride his chain. Such men are rare, Master. Useful… if you choose to guide him."
Atem thought back: Yeah… I can tell. He's not just some smith. He's someone who won't bend.
Kaijin's eyes narrowed at Atem. "But you… you're no ordinary one. I saw you outside, during that scuffle. You didn't even flinch when those adventurers lunged at you."
Atem shrugged with a small, confident smile. "Let's just say… I've handled worse."
Kaijin chuckled, shaking his head. "You're odd. Most would've crushed those adventurers for their insults. You actually held back."
"…You noticed?" Atem asked, raising a brow.
"Of course. A craftsman knows the weight of his own hammer. I could tell—you measured your strength. You're not reckless. You think before you act. That makes you different."
Atem blinked, surprised at the insight.
Compliments weren't new to him, but Kaijin's words carried genuine respect.
This man… sharp eyes, steady heart. I like him already.
"Uuuugh, I'm starving!" Gobta whined, sliding down the bars like a sack of rice. "Boss, when are they gonna feed us?!"
Atem's eye twitched. "Gobta, could you not embarrass us in front of our new friend?"
Kaijin laughed, a hearty sound that echoed in the cell block. "Ha! You've got a lively crew. Reminds me of my apprentices. Bet they're worried sick about me right now…"
But then his laughter faded, a shadow crossing his face. Sadness lingered in his eyes, though he tried to hide it.
The Oracle spoke again.
"He is burdened by bonds unseen. Apprentices, family, pride… Master, if you lift him, he will follow."
Atem filed it away in silence. Yeah… I'll remember that.
Boots clanged against stone as guards approached. "On your feet! The king will see you now."
The doors screeched open, and armored dwarves pulled Atem and his companions from their cells, chaining them in a line. Kaijin was among them, standing tall despite the iron shackles.
He glanced at Atem. "Looks like fate's tied us together, stranger. Let's see if we survive this."
Atem smirked, his eyes glinting. "Don't worry. I've faced worse than kings."
The Oracle whispered, steady and sure.
"The one they call Gazel… he will weigh your heart, Atem. Do not bow too low, and do not stand too proud. Show him who you are."
Atem nodded silently. His resolve hardened.
King Gazel, huh? Let's see what you're made of.
And so, Atem, his goblins, the direwolves, and Kaijin were led out of the dungeon and up the winding stone stairs—toward the throne room of Dwargon, where judgment awaited.