The Sky Mountains.

The highest mountains, touching the heavens, and the most mysterious place on the continent—the dream of every explorer. A place where all manner of arcane wonders gathered, a region full of dreams, with countless intertwined legends and myths. At the same time, it was one of the continent’s five forbidden regions, counted among the places “you must never enter if you wish to live long.”

A race had lived for a very long time in that unique place, where nature’s wonder and terror coexisted.

Their bodies were not powerful enough to withstand nature’s whims unprotected. Their instincts were not keen enough to sense danger in advance and flee. Nor were they close enough to Mana to enjoy nature’s profound love.

And yet they survived.

Whatever trials assailed them, they never descended the mountains. However the harsh environment tormented them, they never abandoned their home. They had endured like that for hundreds of years.

Through that history, they became a rather unique race.

A race capable of facing any enemy.

The most fearsome race to fight to the bitter end.

The most “tenacious” of all seven races.

However hopeless a battle seemed, if it went on to the very end, they always won. Just as there is a way out even when the sky falls, they invariably found a breakthrough, whatever despair befell them. They never gave up, enduring any situation as steadfastly as steel.

The continent’s inhabitants called these tenacious people:

The little folk of the Sky Mountains.

「Dwarves」.

* * *

“Who’s the imbecile caught in the trap?”

“A human fighter.”

Countless torches flickered in a place where darkness lurked on the outskirts of the Pitch-Black Forest. The dwarves holding them wore armor of various designs. Full plate armor protected their bodies completely, from head to toe. These were pieces of the highest quality, which even renowned knights could not readily afford. They were not merely layered iron plates, but armor forged through the painstaking work of exceptional craftsmen.

“What a waste of a trap. We set those to catch pointy-ears and half-wit beasts.”

Among those armored figures, one dwarf stood out.

He wore pitch-black armor, the same shade as the darkness that had fallen over the forest. The little man was clad in black iron armor, whose hardness defied comparison with any other metal.

“Take their identification tags and throw them out.”

The dwarf in black iron armor gave the others orders with practiced ease. At each brief instruction, the little folk moved in perfect coordination. Even in the darkness, the little folk of the Sky Mountains acted systematically. It was a characteristic of dwarves.

“Deal with it quickly. It is night. Nothing good comes of wasting time.”

If orcs were known as a race of combatants,

then dwarves were known as a “race of war.”

“I trust none of you is foolish enough to want to encounter a noble of the night at this hour.”

Dwarves were not exceptionally strong. They possessed none of the special powers the other races enjoyed, nor were they born with superior physiques. Thus, no one feared dwarves in “combat.” But “war” was a different matter.

“Build a fortress that will see us through the long night.”

Another name for dwarves was 「Lords of War」.

“Within a sturdy fortress, we will lose to no one.”

The dwarf’s solemn voice rang out.

At the same time, a clamor of footsteps spread from beyond the darkness filling the forest. A dwarf fighter who heard them threw his torch. Flames flared, driving back the darkness and revealing their enemies: a band of bow-wielding elves. These children of the forest swept along the tree trunks like the wind, descending upon them. The instant they met, the elves unleashed their arrows.

And then...

“Your forging skills are those of children.”

TING!

The elves’ arrows bounced off with a feeble sound. Their arrowheads failed to leave even a scratch on the dwarves’ armor. The elves frowned at the sight.

“Summon the spirits!”

A voice as clear as a drop of water rang out.

The next moment, flickering flames imbued the arrows nocked on the elves’ bowstrings. A primordial force that burned anything. Flame spirits had manifested. But the dwarves were not afraid. Far from it—they merely sneered.

“You’re young elves, then. What did those elders in the forest teach you?”

“Shut up, you dwarf—”

“What imbecile brings flames against the friends of fire and steel?”

The flame-wreathed arrows soon took the shapes of birds in midair and bore down on the dwarves. When they struck, they set the dwarves’ armor ablaze. It was a power beyond common sense: flames that clung to metal. Such a feat could only be accomplished through the arcane power of spirits.

Yet even that failed to hurt the dwarves.

“Flames kindled in the forest aren’t even lukewarm. Compared with those burning in our furnaces in the land of steel, they are utterly pathetic. These hardly deserve to be called flames.”

Friends of fire and steel.

All the little folk of the Sky Mountains were craftsmen skilled in working iron, and children of flame whose bodies would not be singed even if immersed in a roaring blaze.

“You seem to be young elves, so I won’t take your lives. The elders of the Great Forest would never leave us alone if I did. But you will pay the price for provoking dwarves.”

The dwarves touched the flames with their hands, then shook them off, extinguishing the fire. As the heat vanished, they drew long pieces of metal from their waists. The objects looked like rods, or perhaps cylinders.

“Bows? How barbaric and primitive. I never imagined you were still using weapons we abandoned hundreds of years ago, you dim-witted fairies.”

The dwarves aimed the pieces of metal at the elves.

And then...

“There are far finer ways to kindle flames, young elves.”

The next instant, a deafening boom accompanied an intense flash that pierced the darkness of night. It was as though a bolt of lightning had struck. A blackened scorch mark lay one step in front of the elves, with a great blaze dancing upon it.

“Ah, aaah—”

“I-I can’t hear...”

The elves, whose hearing was particularly sensitive, were overwhelmed by the sudden blast. Having heard that tremendous noise at point-blank range, they complained of dizziness, and some lost consciousness on the spot. Those who withstood the shock of the sound next beheld the terrifying flames. This was a violent fire that seemed capable of devouring anything, incomparable to the flames raised by their spirits.

“Ah, aaah...”

That fire was far too artificial.

A flame that could never occur in nature. Yet for that very reason, this artificial flame was far more powerful and terrifying than any natural fire. To elves who lived as nature’s friends, “it” was utterly alien.

“Hand over your identification tags and get lost. The elders of the forest might be another matter, but greenhorns like you could never defeat us. I don’t wish to hurt youngsters, so be on your way.”

At the dwarf’s words, the elves instantly lost their will to fight.

They knew it too. If that attack had not been merely a warning, every elf in this ambush would have been wiped out the instant that bizarre weapon was used. They would have burned without knowing how or why they were dying.

“U-uaaah...”

Their fighting spirit gone, the elves threw down their identification tags and fled.

The dwarves laughed as they watched them run. This was why elves were easy to deal with. Give them a little fright and threaten their lives, and they would flee without hesitation. It was a racial trait. Ageless elves could live forever so long as no one killed them.

That was why they tended to be excessively cautious about their own safety.

They could live forever anyway, and if they needlessly suffered a serious injury, they would have to endure its lingering effects throughout their long lives.

“No king among them.”

“The elven king is probably with the elders.”

“Hmm. Just what I’d expect of those cowardly pointy-ears.”

After checking the elves’ identification tags, the dwarves shook their heads in disappointment. At any rate, they had driven off the immediate attackers. But the guerrilla fighting continued. An urgent voice came from far away.

“One of the fellows on watch kept nodding off and finally fell asleep! The Demonkin are coming!”

“That goddamn dwarf must have started drinking again as soon as night fell!”

“Can’t say I don’t understand! With night falling in such a charming forest, how could anyone resist a beer? Nothing beats beer by a campfire while tearing into some pork!”

“Talk like that is what spoils the young dwarves!”

There was no sign whatsoever that the situation would settle down.

One incident erupted after another, endlessly.

And then...

“When, exactly, will they retrieve the identification tags from those human fighters caught in the trap?”

“Pardon?”

“They went down into the trap quite some time ago. Why have we still heard nothing...?”

Amid the bustle, the dwarf in black iron armor spoke.

“Maybe they let the humans go and stopped for a beer?”

“Then they would have reported first. Something is wrong.”

“If something’s wrong, we can check it a little later. Shouldn’t we deal with the other problems first? Not just the Demonkin—those Beastfolk bastards keep harassing us too...”

“No. We check the trap first.”

The voice of the dwarf whose face was concealed by a pitch-black helmet matching his armor was firm.

“My instincts are never wrong. Let’s go.”

The dwarf in black iron armor felt that he absolutely had to inspect the trap this instant. It was an instinct he could not explain. Yet the other dwarves followed him without complaint.

There were two reasons.

First, he was a figure of considerable authority in the dwarves’ homeland. As his distinctive armor made evident, he was a soldier holding an important position in the dwarven legion—a commander who had protected the little folk in the Sky Mountains for many years.

And the second reason...

“True. The general’s instincts are never wrong.”

He was a renowned commander who had never lost a war, a great hero revered by the dwarves. A hero with not merely authority, but proven ability.

All called him by the same name: Dwight the Iron Man.

“Let’s go.”

Ignoring the clamor of the battlefield, he personally set off to inspect the humans caught in the trap. It was not far away. The trap lay on the outskirts of the territory the dwarves had established, so reaching it took little time.

And then...

“...?”

Upon reaching the trap, Dwight discovered that his instincts had once again been correct.

“What is going on here?”

A pitfall, a trap set to catch enemies.

Inside the deep pit stood a human man and woman with their swords raised toward the top. They were not its only occupants. Four dwarf fighters lay sprawled there, unconscious. Yes, no fewer than four had been taken down.

“... Tsk. I’m always telling them not to let their guard down.”

Dwight stared at the human pair in displeasure.

Their eyes were extremely sharp. While he watched them, the man swung the sword in his hand through the air. Strangely, Dwight felt the gentle breeze gradually grow stronger.

As though the wind were responding every time that young man’s sword moved...

* * *

「It worked.」

Liam spoke as he looked at the four sprawled dwarf fighters.

“Are you sure this is all right? Aren’t we just making them hate us more for nothing?”

「It’s fine. Didn’t you agree to trust me and leave this to me? No backtalk.」

Liam’s answer to my request for help had been simple. He instructed me to swing my sword despite my twisted ankle and first subdue the dwarves waiting above the trap. Fortunately, that had not been difficult. Seeing us trapped, the dwarves had let their guard down. Those who descended into the cramped pit fell helplessly to Seolyun’s and my combined attacks.

“You insolent humans!”

“Didn’t we tell you to surrender quietly? Must you insist on bloodshed? We were going to let you leave unharmed if you just handed over your identification tags!”

The dwarves who witnessed the scene flew into a rage.

The louder their voices grew, the more anxious I became. Enough to wonder whether I really might lose an arm or a leg at this rate.

But Liam was strangely calm.

「A big shot will arrive soon to see what is going on. You must hold out until then.」

“Will anything change when a big shot arrives?”

「Yes, it will.」

I glared at the dwarves, sword in hand.

「To break out of this predicament, we need someone other than these greenhorn dwarves.」

“...”

「Not ignorant young dwarves, but a dwarf who knows enough. One who will recognize what you possess at a glance, and understand what it means.」

I could not immediately grasp what Liam meant.

Meanwhile, I turned to Seolyun.

“Can you keep fighting?”

“Easily.”

Unlike me, with my badly twisted ankle, Seolyun had suffered no serious injury. Her ankle was only slightly sprained, and her fighting ability had not diminished much. Subduing the four dwarf fighters in an instant had been almost entirely her work. She had not been idle while I grew stronger, and her wondrous swordsmanship had brought our enemies down in moments.

In any case, as that tense standoff continued, Liam spoke.

「We’ve hooked a big one, young descendant.」

“A big one?”

「Quite a big shot has taken the bait.」

As Liam spoke, a pitch-black dwarf appeared beyond the edge of the trap. Looking closely, I saw that the dark color came from the sheen of his armor. Black iron. A dwarf had arrived wearing a helmet and armor that covered him in black iron from head to toe. I knew the instant I saw him.

“Holy shit...”

He was a monster.

An opponent so powerful that nothing I could do at my current strength would touch a hair on his head.

Suspicion sounded its alarm ceaselessly.

Do not confront him. Run away.

But Master told me the opposite.

「Swing your sword, young descendant.」

“Pardon?”

「Show him the full truth of the sword you possess. That is your way out.」

“What if that insane dwarf attacks me for it?”

「It’s all right. He won’t.」

“... How can you be certain?”

Liam answered my doubtful question.

「Because there is no chance that dwarf will fail to recognize what resides in your sword.」

He gave no detailed explanation.

But I decided not to doubt him any longer.

Master did not lie when it came to the sword.

When it came to the sword, he always gave me the right answer.

“Whew.”

I did not avert my eyes.

Instead, I awakened 「Gale」.

『My life was like a breath of wind.』

『So, too, was my sword.』

And then...

“...”

The dwarf meeting my eyes from above the trap did not move.

He said not a word, took not a step, and simply stood motionless, watching me. Whether 「Gale」 raged in time with my swaying blade or not, the dwarf stood firm. How long did that go on?

“... Impossible.”

An unfamiliar voice suddenly sounded very close to me. It felt as though someone were whispering directly into my ear. That was no illusion. When I turned my head, the dwarf was there. Before I could even sense him approaching, he stood before me.

“Did I see it wrong? No, it is far too clear for that. I can feel it all too plainly.”

“...”

“This cannot be. I heard they had vanished, every last one. I heard they had all been broken and brought low, disappearing into history without a trace. And yet, and yet...”

I could see his eyes through a gap in the black iron helmet on his head.

“To think a descendant of steel still remained...”

The dwarf’s voice held a complicated mixture of emotions.

I could not tell where this situation was heading.

Amid my confusion, Liam grinned.

「Yes. He recognizes it, just as I thought.」

* * *

『Name: Dwarf』

『One of the seven races on the continent.』

『The little folk who make their homes midway up the Sky Mountains. Born friends of fire and steel, they possess an exceptional innate talent for making things.』