At dawn this morning, the village of Good Teeth Village, once filled with laughter, was cloaked in a chill following the news of the death of Whirlpool, a renowned dwarf musician. He was found lifeless on the new wooden bridge spanning the great canal. Many recounted that the dwarf musician's deep red blood still swirled in the canal waters, just like his name.
Whirlpool's death was no accident. His body bore only a single wound, located at the back of his neck—a cruel blow. Nearly all the villagers of Good Teeth Village were convinced it was the doing of Bob, a human traveling merchant who has now mysteriously vanished from the village.
The conflict between the two was well-known in the village, as both had fallen for Cynthia, the taciturn owner of the Crescent Moon Tavern. Their animosity reached a peak a few days prior when they arranged a duel with wooden swords by the river. Whirlpool easily claimed victory by shattering Bob's sword with just a few swift cuts, severely humiliating Bob, who often boasted about his swordsmanship.
Though Whirlpool's death cast a somber mood over Good Teeth Village, no one seemed interested in searching for the truth or details of the incident. They were all convinced it was revenge from the defeated and disgraced merchant, despite there being no witnesses to the actual event. Instead, the villagers' attention shifted to Cynthia, wondering how she would react to this tragedy.
Cynthia, the owner of the Crescent Moon Tavern, maintained her usual routine. She still woke up late, as if the brutal murder of the devoted dwarf had nothing to do with her.
That afternoon, as Cynthia was reading a thick book behind the counter as usual, the customers in the tavern—a surprisingly large crowd for a normally quiet afternoon—tried to peer at her, hoping to catch a sign of grief or sorrow. The only thing they found was emptiness in the face of the dark-haired elven woman before them.
Suddenly, the pile of silver coins on Cynthia's desk, prepared for exchange with regular customers, began to vibrate rhythmically. It sounded like the heavy footsteps of a colossal being approaching.
"BANG!"
The tavern door was violently thrust open, slamming against the wall with a noise like thunder. A white-bearded dwarf appeared, his left hand grasping a golden metal hammer.
"I demand the truth," the deep voice of the white-bearded dwarf echoed throughout the tavern. He stepped inside, sweeping an unfriendly gaze across every face, before marching to the back of the room—Cynthia's counter—and speaking directly to the dark-haired elven woman: "Schroder, my nephew, shall not die in vain!"
Many dwarf customers in the Crescent Moon Tavern recognized this white-bearded dwarf as the strongest dwarf in Midgard. His name was Dodan.
"What would you like to drink?" was the first sentence Cynthia spoke to the strongest dwarf.
Dodan's eyes widened slightly. He then raised the metal hammer in his left hand and smashed it onto Cynthia's counter, shattering it completely. A shower of silver coins scattered across the floor before he roared, "Do you think I came here for a drink?"
Cynthia immediately stood up and pointed outside the tavern before continuing, "If you're not here to drink, get out. This is a tavern."
Dodan instantly slapped Cynthia across the face with his metal right hand.
Cynthia was thrown backward by the force. The elven woman's body crumpled to the floor instantly.
The staff of the Crescent Moon Tavern emerged to confront Dodan, but many of them who were dwarves themselves, upon recognizing Dodan, the strongest dwarf, frantically restrained the others from using force. A waitress rushed out from the kitchen, cradled Cynthia's head in her lap, and whispered, "She... she's unconscious."
Dodan looked down at the unconscious body of the young elven proprietress with frustration. He had expected to receive helpful answers. This outcome only intensified his irritation.
"Hmph!" Dodan spat loudly before turning and walking away.
No one dared to follow the strongest dwarf, allowing Dodan to leave the Crescent Moon Tavern alone, amidst the fearful gazes of the onlookers.
Dodan returned to the wooden bridge over the great canal, the place where his nephew died from the ambush. He learned of his nephew's death so quickly because the two had made a magical pact, which allowed him to see the vision of Schroder's death in a dream. He rushed to this place, riding his wyvern alone without hesitation.
Dodan stared at the wooden bridge with furious eyes. He clenched the golden hammer in his left hand, contemplating whether to destroy the bridge before him.
Just then, two humans—a man and a woman—appeared. They approached Dodan submissively, keeping their heads down as they spoke in nervous tones: "We are people of the musician Whirlpool. We know some details of his death."
"Musician Whirlpool? Do you mean Schroder?" Dodan questioned, taking threatening steps toward the pair.
"Yes," the man with brown hair, blue eyes, a round face, dressed in shabby clothes, and smelling strongly of alcohol, spoke on behalf of both. "We were all, in truth, working for the Affarahants family, infiltrating this village."
"What?! How could Schroder work for the Affarahants family? I never knew this." Dodan's voice was firm and clear.
"Lord Dodan, please lower your voice..." The round-faced man cupped his mouth with his left hand as he spoke.
"Wait, Lord Dodan," a voice called out from the other side of the bridge, accompanied by the appearance of three more dwarves.
Dodan turned toward the voices of his kin as the three dwarves swiftly ran across the bridge, positioning themselves between Dodan and the human man and woman.
One of the three dwarves, wearing a horned helmet, was the shortest but packed with muscles. Dressed in reddish-brown animal hides, he spoke to Dodan: "Lord Dodan, beware. These people are not to be trusted."
As soon as the dwarf in the horned helmet finished speaking, the other two dwarves used daggers they had concealed to instantly slit the throats of the human man and woman.
The pair died before they could even scream. The two dwarves who struck were incredibly fast. After killing the man and woman, they embraced the lifeless bodies and ran back in the direction they came from, leaving the dwarf with the horned helmet to face Dodan alone.
The dwarf with the horned helmet quickly stated, "Lord Schroder was actually working with us, the Free-Livers of Dvalinn's Keep."
The Kingdom of Dvalinn's Keep was formed by dwarf warriors not descended from the seven brothers of the Dragon Slayer Clan. Dodan himself originally hailed from this kingdom before his grandfather accepted an invitation from the God Magni to establish a new village in Midgard. The dwarves of this kingdom often referred to themselves as the "Free-Livers."
Before the dwarf with the horned helmet could finish, his body was fiercely yanked up by Dodan's metal right arm. Dodan held him tight and spoke sharply into his face: "You say you were allied with Schroder? But judging by your dagger skills just now, I'd say you look more like the assassins who stabbed him in the back!"
The dwarf with the horned helmet had not expected the situation to turn so quickly, but he was not one to surrender without a fight. He swiftly drew a short sword hidden in his boot and thrust it toward Dodan's neck.
However... Dodan was not the strongest dwarf for nothing. Before the blade could even graze his skin, his metal right hand flipped the enemy upside down and slammed his head down onto the bridge floor with a violent "THUD!"
The dwarf with the horned helmet was a strong and experienced fighter. He reacted in a flash, raising his left arm close to his head just as his skull was about to hit the bridge floor. He used his forearm and shoulder to take the impact instead, protecting his most vital part. Though he saved his life, the force of the impact was so heavy he felt his shoulder bone shatter instantly.
"Aaargh!" the dwarf roared in pain, but it wasn't over. Dodan's metal hand still gripped his body tightly, giving him no chance to breathe or recover. The throw was immediately repeated!
Dodan used all the strength of his body to hurl the dwarf violently into the bridge railing. This time, the dwarf with the horned helmet had no chance of survival. His head smashed against the solid wood, breaking and deforming instantly.
Dodan dropped the lifeless body to the ground. He stared at the corpse of the dwarf who had pretended to be an ally before scoffing, "You fool! To think you could deceive me!" Dodan scolded the corpse before him as if it were still alive and able to converse. "No one in my family would ever agree to cooperate with the dwarves who call themselves 'Free-Livers'—never! Because my grandfather detested you, he left to found a new village called the 'Village of the Holy Mandate'!"
Before Dodan's fierce declaration faded, the sound of numerous footsteps erupted from both ends of the bridge!
A mixed force composed of humans, dwarves, and Forest Elves poured onto the bridge. All were armed with various weapons and held determined expressions.
Dodan, the strongest dwarf, showed no fear even when surrounded in the middle of the bridge. A scornful smile even seemed to play on his lips. He gripped the golden hammer tighter with his left hand, and his metal right arm—a mechanical arm crafted by the God Modi—seemed to emit a bluish-purple light.
Dodan didn't wait for the numerous enemies to attack; he charged at the enemy on the far left first, swinging the hammer in his left hand ahead of him.
Dodan fought like a maniac. His movements were fierce and merciless. The golden hammer spun like a whirlwind of death. Various weapons—swords and axes alike—shattered like glass. Screams of pain rang out constantly, chillingly. Soon, the mixed force of over three hundred men was utterly routed, almost all dead on the bridge. Perhaps fewer than ten lives escaped.
In the end, the strongest dwarf sustained only minor surface wounds, without a single serious injury. He slowly walked down from the bridge through the enormous pile of corpses before spotting a Forest Elf still faintly breathing at the left approach to the bridge. This enemy was quite respectable; his chest had been crushed on one side from the blow of the golden hammer, yet he was still alive.
Dodan walked up to this respectable foe, bent down slightly, pointed the tip of the hammer at the Elf's head, and said in a cold voice, "Tell me, who ordered you here?"
"No... no one ordered us to come here," the faintly breathing Forest Elf mustered the strength to reply. "It's just that... someone will pay one hundred thousand gold coins to anyone who can kill you."
This answer did not please Dodan in the least. The strongest dwarf instantly swung the golden hammer, crushing the head before him.
"You fools!" Dodan spoke to the corpse he had just slain again. "No one in this land has one hundred thousand gold coins as you claimed!"
Dodan scanned his surroundings once more, amidst the silence of the corpses and the stench of blood, before cursing in frustration, "This village... is absolutely crazy!"
After this statement, the strongest dwarf let out a strange, shrill whistle, a signal calling the wyvern, which appeared, circling above his head moments later. A powerful gust of wind swept past the dwarf holding the golden hammer, and in a flash, the mighty dwarf and the golden hammer vanished from the Good Teeth Village, leaving behind only the bridge littered with the corpses of humans, dwarves, and Forest Elves.
That night, Good Teeth Village remained filled with terror. The wrath of a single dwarf had brought massive death to this community. People closed their eyes, hoping this horrifying night would pass quickly.
On the road to the desolate field, a small shadow shot forward rapidly. Could it be a malevolent spirit born after the death of so many people? The shadow soared as if flying, for if it were running, there would be footsteps, but there was no sound at all.
In the desolate field was a wide clearing, with a solitary pine tree standing alone, like the center of the clearing.
The small shadow abruptly stopped its dash right there.
"Muninn has arrived," the small shadow spoke. It was the voice of the woman, the owner of the Crescent Moon Tavern, known to the Good Teeth villagers as Cynthia.
"What is the situation in the village?" A voice, cold and authoritative, came from the solitary pine tree.
"Much better. Our forces should now be the strongest in the village," Cynthia reported confidently.
"To think that a mere dwarf could possess such immense power."
"This dwarf is indeed one of the disciples of the God Magni," Cynthia acknowledged.
"I fear that even I would have difficulty defeating him."
"How can a mere dwarf compare to a star like you, Leader?" Cynthia immediately objected, her tone showing extreme reverence.
A shadow darted down from the pine tree, grasping Cynthia's face with both hands, then paused, seemingly scrutinizing her face closely.
Moonlight filtering through the pine branches illuminated Cynthia's face, revealing a large, horrifying bruise—the result of Dodan's brutal slap earlier that day.
"One day, I will repay that dwarf tenfold," Cynthia said in an icy voice, hinting at painful revenge.
"I will go and kill him now," the shadow touching Cynthia's face stated, his voice laced with such fury that he seemed barely in control.
The shadow was actually a handsome Elven man. His body was enveloped in dull golden armor. His silver hair flowed long past his back, and his eyes shimmered like stars. Many knew him as "Fenris," one of the four most dangerous assassins of the Elves. But to Cynthia, she only called him "The Star."
"My Leader, let me be the one to exact the revenge," Cynthia, known as "The Black Bird Muninn," also one of the four most dangerous Elven assassins, pleaded in a firm voice.
"You cannot leave this village," The Star said pleadingly. "Soon, Magni will travel here, and that is the entirety of the plan we have prepared."
"Then... that dwarf will live for a while longer," Cynthia accepted, a rare smile appearing on her normally cold face.
Suddenly, the woman's body was quickly pulled close, and her lips were pressed against the other's. Cynthia did not show any sign of resistance. For not just her lips... even her entire body and her life, Cynthia was ready to surrender to the man who served as her guiding star.