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“This damned bastard……”

The veins in Bolt’s arm bulged as he gripped his hammer tightly.

‘This bastard definitely has the blood of a demon.’

Otherwise, there was no way anyone could grate a dwarf’s nerves so thoroughly.

“Remove the wooden shafts! Reload the arrows with metal heads!”

Bolt’s shout rang out, and immediately—

Creak! Creak!

The other dwarves reacted with remarkable speed. Wooden arrows on bow strings were swapped out for metal ones.

This would maximize their destructive power and penetration, allowing them to pierce through crude armor with ease.

However, this wasn’t something humans could imitate. Inhumane strength was required to draw such a bowstring—literally.

“You worthless scum! That filthy mouth of yours will be the cause of your death.”

Bolt sneered, raising one corner of his mouth.

‘These insects are already a thorn in my side……’

His hatred was not without reason. How would he have forgotten what the humans did to his people in the past?

‘Along with the elves, we dwarves were treated as mere commodities in human slave markets.’

The bitter memory made Bolt bite his lip hard. His kin, once sold, were imprisoned in solitary confinement and worked to death.

Though dwarves live twice as long as humans, many didn’t even survive the ordeal—choosing suicide over a lifetime of unbearable servitude.

Bolt’s own child had narrowly escaped death on more than one occasion, driven to the brink by human greed.

“Heh…… I wonder what kind of expression your parents will make when I send them your corpse.”

Step. Step.

“……I tried to avoid stepping in out of respect for your kind, but you are an unbelievably rude race.”

“……?”

Bolt tilted his head. An elderly human, frail and unremarkable in appearance, was calmly walking toward them.

“You should have stopped by now. Moderation is a virtue, you know.”

It was none other than Marquis Foltaine. Bolt slung his hammer over his shoulder, glaring at him with a sneer.

“And what’s this greenhorn babbling about?”

“……”

“So, you’re the leader of these brats? Hiding behind children until things became dangerous, and only now showing your face?”

Marquis Foltaine responded with a crooked smile. Normally, he would have been irritated by the mention of his life being in danger.

But this time, it was another part of Bolt’s words that angered him more.

“He’s not a ‘brat’. He’s our leader.”

Boom!

Suddenly, Bolt froze in place. A suffocating pressure seized his entire body, overwhelming him.

“Y-You…… Were you a Reaper?”

Bolt clenched his hammer instinctively, feeling his heart race. To dwarves, a ‘Reaper’ referred to a Master.

‘If this human is truly a Reaper, we’re in grave danger.’

Alarms blared in Bolt’s mind. He knew better than anyone the terrifying power of a Reaper.

The Imperial Reaper that had lit the surroundings with hellfire akin to a sun god that had descended from the heavens.

‘Theorg, the God of Fire……’

That one man alone had decimated thousands of dwarven warriors. Their vaunted weapons had been useless, and even divine powers had crumbled before him like sand.

And yet……

“Give the order, my leader.”

“……!”

The most shocking thing was how that terrifying Reaper acted like a mere subordinate to someone else—to that impudent little demon spawn.

“If you tell me to strike, I will. If you tell me to stand down, I will.”

“What’s for sure is that we don’t necessarily need to fight.”

“No, we fight when we must. I’ll show you why humans are the rulers of this continent.”

At that moment, Trevor stepped forward to diffuse the tension.

“Please, let me handle this.”

“……Knight of Illusions, even if these are your friends, they have crossed a line.”

Marquis Foltaine emphasized the word ‘friends’ deliberately.

“Just let me speak with them a little longer.”

“……”

The situation was like a powder keg, waiting to explode.

“……I’ll watch for just a little bit more.”

With that, Marquis Foltaine grudgingly took a step back. Trevor turned to Bolt with a serious expression.

“Bolt! I truly owe you an apology.”

“……Trevor……”

“I’m asking you this as a favor.”

Trevor, ignoring the strain on his body, bowed deeply.

“……Fine. Explain yourself. Just who is that brat? Some high-ranking human noble?”

“……”

Trevor hesitated briefly.

Technically, the answer was yes—he was a prince, after all. But Trevor knew he needed something more compelling to win the dwarves’ trust.

And he already had the perfect answer.

“He is the disciple of my lord.”

“Disciple……?”

Bolt blinked in disbelief, his voice thick with confusion.

“You’re telling me that demon brat serves a god?”

“Not that kind of disciple…… They share the same master.”

“What in the world are you talking about? ‘Lord’? Since when do you even have a lord?”

It was an answer Bolt found impossible to believe.

“Trevor, I know for a fact that you’ve never served anyone. Isn’t that right?”

“You’re right. I’ve had only one master in my entire life. Past, present, and future.”

“……!”

Bolt’s eyes widened in shock.

“Y-You’re telling me…… He’s the disciple of Anselot Heil Edenberg?”

“Yes.”

Bolt’s jaw fell open, stunned beyond words.

Ancelot Heil Edenberg.

How could one ever forget that name?

‘It’s already been more than a few decades, hasn’t it?’

He was nothing short of a savior to the dwarves. At one point in time, the clan had been driven into the eastern region of the Empire.

It was a place rich in minerals along with artisans skilled beyond compare in refining those ores.

Of course, greedy humans couldn’t just leave such wealth untouched. Every dwarf, young and old, was enslaved.

It was Ancelot Heil Edenberg who freed them from that hellish life.

‘……That’s also when I first met Trevor.’

Bolt had witnessed the brutal, endless battles between humans. On one hand, it was satisfying. On the other, it was suffocating.

Even if a victor emerged, he knew that only the master would change—nothing would improve for his people.

The only good human was a dead one.

The first to shatter that belief was the man standing before him—Trevor.

“I’ll give you one week. Take your kind and leave.”

“What? W-We’re…… Free to go?”

“Yes.”

“Why? What’s the reason? If you’re going to set us free only to hunt us down……”

“……I’m simply carrying out my lord’s orders.”

Even though it had been so long ago, Bolt still remembered that day vividly.

“……Hold on. If he really is a disciple of Ancelot Heil Edenberg, then could his goal perhaps be……?”

Trevor gave a small nod.

“He seeks revenge for his death.”

“……!”

Bolt’s eyes widened in shock.

“Revenge…… against the Empire? That child?”

“He won’t stay a child forever.”

“……And the Reaper agrees with this?”

“He……”

Trevor glanced briefly toward Marquis Foltaine and smiled bitterly.

“……I can’t say for certain, but judging by his actions so far, he seems willing to help.”

“……”

Bolt sank deep into thought. Then, after a moment, a grin crept across his face.

“……Interesting. Revenge against that damn Empire, huh?”

“I’m not asking the dwarves to join in this revenge. But if nothing else, don’t get in our way.”

“……”

Trevor locked eyes with Bolt, his gaze unwavering.

“My lord has never once harmed another race. He lived by a strict principle, ‘Don’t create unnecessary enemies.’”

“I know. I always found that strange. Heh heh heh, ‘enemies’, huh? So, he truly regarded us dwarves as equals, not as slaves or lesser beings?”

What amazed Bolt the most was that Ancelot Heil Edenberg had been fighting in the war at the time. He could have easily used the dwarves to achieve victory.

In fact, the damned human Emperor had tried to hunt them down after the war. However, Ancelot never resorted to such methods.

“So what’s brought that revenge-seeking human child all the way to this remote place?”

At some point, Bolt’s way of referring to him had shifted—from ‘demon brat’ to ‘human child’.

“He plans to build a city. Here, in Death Valley.”

“……What?”

“Technically speaking, this land belongs to humans, too. He’s the new lord appointed to govern it.”

Thud!

Bolt slammed his hammer into the ground, furious.

“Those greedy human sons of bitches! They want to take away our last place of refuge too, don’t they!?”

“……Bolt. I’m telling you, it’s nothing to get worked up over.”

“You’re just as disgusting as the rest of them, Trevor—”

“Think about it!”

Trevor cut in urgently.

“They raised their banner here, but even two nations couldn’t conquer this land. What could that child possibly achieve with just a small group of people?”

Bolt hesitated and slowly lowered his hammer. Trevor’s words made sense.

“……So, they’ve sent him here as some kind of exile?”

Having spent so many years as a slave, Bolt had come to understand human customs to a degree.

“It’s as you say.”

“……”

Hearing Trevor’s confirmation, Bolt, who had been staring at Ancelot, sighed deeply.

“……Tch. So he’ll just die on his own soon enough. I got angry for no reason.”

“Maybe he won’t die, if you help him.”

“Why the hell would I help that arrogant brat? He can rot for all I care……”

“Because humans will never give up on this land.”

“……”

Bolt fell silent.

“And they’ll likely try to enslave other races again.”

“……You think I’d stand by and let that happen? Let them come. I’ll smash every single one of their skulls in like before!”

“I’m only suggesting we improve our odds of survival. You said once that my lord was someone you could trust.”

Trevor’s voice carried a note of earnestness.

“Think about what might happen if this young lord manages to establish himself here.”

Bolt shook his head.

“Hah! Who knows? What if we build the city, and then some other bastard takes over and uses the city as a base to attack us?”

“I’ll stay by his side and make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“……”

There was such conviction in Trevor’s voice that Bolt found himself looking toward Ancelot again.

“……I don’t trust the words of humans. Not even yours, Trevor.”

“Please, just once……!”

“That’s why!”

Thud!

Bolt slammed his hammer into the ground once more, eyes blazing.

“I’ll see for myself if that brat is worth trusting or not. You won’t object to that, will you?”

“……!”

Trevor’s face lit up with a bright smile.

“Of course not!”

“But mark my words—if he fails to meet my expectations, Trevor, you and your people will leave this place. And you’ll never disturb us again. Can you promise me that?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Trevor nodded.

“I promise.”

***