The ground shook, and a bright red light shot into the sky from behind the mine.
Safi used the black dwarf’s strength to break free from the warrior corps, then leapt from the temple window and dashed alone into the streets.
Her destination— the mines.
The tremors showed no sign of stopping. The roar, the bellowing—it was as if a giant hammer is trying to shatter the very ground.
“Kuu…!”
Clutching her bag of smithing tools tightly to her chest, her green hair whipped behind her as she sprinted through the midnight mining town.
In truth, she didn’t remember the route from the temple. She’d only ever seen it peeking out from inside a backpack, and the last time she’d returned from the dungeon she had been too dazed to take note. But the moonlit silhouette of the mountain loomed over the town, visible from anywhere.
All she had to do was run towards that place—such was the reliance on her own judgment.
Still, Safi ran. She could no longer trust Rion, the gods, or any other human—because they had chosen not to go deeper into the dungeon. To her, that was a choice to abandon her companions, and to turn their backs on the words of the Dwarf King.
“If I back down here… I won’t be a dwarf, or a blacksmith, anymore.”
Why had she been left behind all alone?
What had everyone left behind in the palace?
A thousand years of time, a frozen forge, and weapons meant for titans. All these uncertainties piled up in her heart, and if she didn’t find the answer, she felt as though her chest would be crushed under their weight.
—Oooooh!
Again, came another roar.
The ground trembled beneath her feet, the distant mine quaking. Clicking her tongue, she glanced around—adventurers were running about in a frenzy, and the remaining townsfolk were fleeing with torches in hand.
“…W-where… is this?”
At times like this, she cursed her small body. Everywhere around her were human-sized houses and walls, a constant reminder that the land of the dwarves, Alfheim, no longer existed. Buildings and silhouettes blocked her view of the mine.
“Don’t tell me… I’m lost…?”
This is not funny at all.
The ring shining on her finger is the Ring of Protection. It will protect Safi from the seal that envelops the world as long as its magical power lasts. She should still have time—but she wanted to reach the dungeon as quickly as possible.
(—This way.)
At that moment, a shadow swept across the sky.
Even though it was night, it was clearly….
“…A raven…?”
A pair of ravens beat its wings with steady power, circling once above her head before flying toward the mountain. There was something strange about it. There’s an inexplicable pull in it, as though a giant unseen hand were beckoning her onward.
Following its lead, Safi found she could move without hesitation. Before long, the wall separating the mountain from the city came into view. Once, it must have been built as a fortification to keep watch over the dungeon.
“Here…!”
The gate was closed now. But time had etched deep cracks into it, and a child—someone Safi’s size—could easily slip through.
A group of workmen with mortar in hand are already gathering to seal the gap.
“Move!”
She slipped through, and from there it was just a sprint toward the mine.
“A kid!?”
“Hey, it’s dangerous——come back!”
Ignoring the voices behind her, Safi followed the ravens as it guided her around to the back side of the mountain.
There, an ancient stone-paved path stretched out, winding around the mine’s base. By tracing it, she eventually arrived at a familiar exit. It was the same passage where Rion and the others had emerged after meeting the Dwarf King.
The mine’s rear side opened into a deep forest. From high up in the trees, the pair of ravens that had led her peered down at her, while the moonlight bathed the rock-framed entrance in a pale, cold glow.
From the hole came a low, keening sound, like the howl of wind. From the mountain ridge, a red glow flared upward into the sky, like the breath of an erupting volcano. Closing her eyes, Safi drew in a deep breath, then lifted her chin and plunged into the dungeon. She passed through the throne room, brushing away the tears welling up at the sight of her petrified comrades, and continued down the passage leading underground.
Partway along, the path merged with a wider road. Her dwarven instincts told her, this tunnel was in use until recently. And strangely, it felt… familiar.
“This… this is the slope I climbed when I first woke up.”
Safi murmured.
It was possible she had been put to sleep much closer to the throne than she’d realized. Or perhaps Rion’s wake up call had unlocked multiple sealed routes down to the lowest floor.
She pressed on through the newly opened corridor. And then, Safi’s breath was caught in her throat.
“W-what… is this…?”
In the wall gaped a massive hole—as if something enormous had been ripped straight out of the stone, leaving a yawning void behind. She swallowed hard. Beyond the opening seemed to be a vast chamber. It was still dark inside, and she couldn’t make out its depths.
“W-what should I do…?”
Fear wrapped itself around her small chest, but Safi shook her head to fight it off. She is alone now. In this era—there are no other dwarves.
If Safi the dwarf didn’t believe and press on, then no matter what feelings the lost dwarven kingdom of Alfheim had left behind, they would vanish into this mine forever.
Safi could no longer bring herself to run. Afraid to make a sound, she crept forward carefully step by step.
“…A lift?”
What she found at last was a lift—its design based on golem technology. She stepped inside and pulled the activation lever.
CLANK.
The machinery’s racket echoed far too loudly in the emptiness. It was only then that Safi realized—the thunderous rumble she should have heard, the searing red light she should have seen—had both faded away.
The lift came to a halt. Safistepped out into the lowest level. It was a vast, hollow space. The gloom kept its full shape hidden, but a single jagged fissure split the ceiling, letting in a ray of moonlight.
Perhaps the red glow from the mine had been escaping through that crack.
“Hoh? I never thought a black dwarf would come here.”
With that voice came a flood of blinding light. Safi squeezed her eyes shut.
“W-what…”
When she looked up, she saw that a circular platform ringed the space above, looking down into the open area below.
If the chamber’s ceiling was thirty meters high, then the platform sat about halfway up—around fifteen meters. On that platform stood two golems, perfectly still, each holding up a massive magic crystal lamp. The magic stones bathed her in a round pool of light.
“W-who are you?”
Between the two golems stood a woman in black.
“Pleased to meet you. I am Serpentbone Jor—Jor of the World Serpent Jörmungandr, little black dwarf.”
The black-clad woman looked down at Safi.
“…Just you? The ‘horn-blowing boy’ isn’t here?”
When Safi kept silent, Jor let out a quiet sigh.
“…I see. Sigh. And here I even calmed the giant down so we could talk.”
When Jor waved her hand, a fat man rose to his feet behind the golems. Though large in build, he staggered oddly—like a puppet on strings. Yet the way he raised his hand in response was brisk and precise, making the sight all the more unsettling.
“Golem—rise!”
The man’s hollow voice echoed. Then hum of golems filled the space.
It seemed that many of them were stationed along the walkway encircling the plaza. Each puppet-like figure held up a magic stone lamp, and together they flooded the entire space with an overwhelming, blinding light.
“Hii…”
Safi caught her breath.
What the light revealed was—an unbelievably massive giant. Skin blazing like molten metal. Hair alight with searing fire. The half-opened eyes already glowed crimson, and from the mouth, thin wisps of flame crackled and spilled forth.
If it hadn’t been kneeling, its size would have been so overwhelming that she might not have even recognized it as humanoid.
“S–Surtr…?”
There was no longer any room for doubt.
Hands big enough to crush a carriage in their grip. A chest like a fortress wall. If it stood up, it would surely be close to twenty meters tall. A giant beyond even the “Flame Soldier” or the “Incarnation of Rage”—a being utterly outside the norm.
Her teeth chattered uncontrollably. Her hips felt like its going to give way. Her instincts were screaming “don’t look” yet the sheer terror bound her gaze to it.
A soft, mocking chuckle drifted down from above.
“What’s the matter? This is your people’s palace, the back gate. Of course…, it’s been quite heavily remodeled to welcome Surtr.”
The giant stirred. It was then that Safi noticed—Surtr, still kneeling, had both hands and feet bound in ice. The hall was vast, so vast its edges were hard to see, yet even along its distant walls, the ice still remained. Inside that frozen barrier… something was there—creatures, perhaps—held captive.
The gods’ seal must still be holding its power.
—Ooooooooh!
A blast of hot wind erupted.
Safi was blown away—her small body tossed at least five times her own height. She landed headfirst on the ground. She’s now bleeding.
Around the great hall, the ice of the seals cracked in many places, melting away entirely in some spots.
“I had hoped to tell the boy holding the horn and watch the look of despair on his face… but, heh, it doesn’t matter. I’ll tell you first.”
Jor spread her arms wide, almost singing the words.
“In the age of myth… the dwarves betrayed.”
Blood from Safi’s brow ran down, mingling with her tears.
“The terms were simple—the ten blacksmiths of the dwarven kingdom would become monsters. And the rest of the dwarves would keep forging weapons for the giants. That is why the Dwarf King… welcomed Surtr, King of the Flame Titan, into his palace.”
Jor’s laughter echoed through the hollow space.
Monsters are beings that kill gods and humans alike, and laugh as they spread destruction.
And when a being falls into monstrosity, it becomes a twisted living thing. The dwarfs who fall into it became goblins, and like Garmr in the dungeon and the giant soldier, they become evil, hopeless beings. They were the opposite of what a dwarf was meant to be.
A creator turned into a destroyer.
Could it be… that her homeland had truly submitted to something like that?
Safi’s mind is now in a mess. The very foundation she leaned on felt ready to shatter.
Memories—treasures no master blacksmith could forge—were being defiled by Jor’s words.
“So the dwarves, too, were seduced by power. Only…”
Jor’s voice faltered, laced with bitterness.
“But….. just before they could fully submit, the ice of the seal arrived.”
The ice binding Surtr shattered completely.
—Ooooooh!
Surtr began to rise.
But the giant let out a voice of agony, shielding his leg with one arm. Then, with his massive hand, he pulled something from his limb.
Jor narrowed her eyes.
“A ballista… bolt?”
Surtr hadn’t been crouching after all.
His massive legs had been pinned to the ground, run clean through by a gigantic bolt.
With a single motion, he wrenched it free and hurled it far away. The spear-like projectile struck the ground, splintering to pieces.
“W-what does that mean…?”
Safi muttered.
Surtr’s flames seemed to spread throughout the entire space.
The back gate of Alfheim, which had been covered in earth and ice, regained its original form. The cave was only a temporary form. It was covered in sealing ice, with earth and sand building up on top of that over eons.
Now, that ice had disappeared. The earth and rocks that had been piled up on top of the ice crumbled, and earth began falling around Safi.
“Kyaaa!”
Billowing clouds of dust filled the air. Through them emerged yet another platform—this one built even higher than the one Jor stood upon. Upon it stood a ring of massive siege bows—anti-giant ballista—all trained directly on the spot where Surtr had been.
Around the weapons stood dwarves.
They were frozen in place, mid-motion as they manned the rusted ballista, their bodies turned to lifeless stone.
“…This is—”
Jor clicked her tongue. The magic-stone lamps held by the golems sliced through the dust.
“Tch. So the dwarves… plotted this, did they?”
Her head was still hazy.
“Plotted…?”
What did the dwarves… what had they done?
Through the drifting haze of dust, Safi spotted it—a red jewel gleaming on the wall, glowing with the same light as the Ring of Protection she carried.
(—Safi.)
A voice seemed to echo inside her head. It sounded so much like the voice of the Dwarf King.
“Y-Your Majesty…?”
Inside Safi’s mind, things began to connect—events that had seemed puzzling before now fitting together like parts of some immense mechanism.
Surtur, lured to the rear gate. The countless ballista aimed squarely at that spot.
The first floor of the dungeon—once the main gate of Alfheim—collapsed and buried, as though the mountain had been deliberately brought down.
“Surround him… strike him down… and bury him…?”
Slowly, Safi began to see what the dwarves had tried to do.
Tears welled in her eyes.
“They… they hadn’t betrayed…?”
She still didn’t know why she had been left behind, nor did she fully understand the dwarves’ intentions. But knowing that they hadn’t simply betrayed—that alone was hope.
A right heart, and the right tools.
The pride that both the white dwarves and the black dwarves had carried was still alive, even a thousand years ago. And that was proof that Safi too, was one of them.
“…I see. But it’s already too late.”
Jor’s words echoed through the space.
Safi bit her lip.
“So what if the dwarves didn’t betray anyone—what difference does that make now?”
The gods had not trusted the dwarves. The chief god, in turn, had not trusted the other gods, and had sealed the world away. And Safi herself had not trusted her current companions either.
After all, if there had been trust, she wouldn’t have come here alone.
The ancient weapons were here, and the dwarves were here. But the awakener was not.
“Mistrust is something that goes in circles—like a serpent biting its own tail.”
It looked as though Jor was biting the tip of her own finger.
“—I’m sorry, everyone.”
In the end, she was no different. She had come alone, and she would die alone.
“Do it, Surtr. This time, let’s have the real—Ragnarok!”
Surtr raised his fist. Wrapped in flame, it made Safi squeeze her eyes shut.
Darkness.
The heat never came.
When she cautiously opened her eyes, she saw something strange. Golden light, like the sun, was pouring down over the entire space. Surtr had stopped his raised hand, glaring into the air.
“…I can hear it.”
The sound of a horn.
Still far away. But somewhere in the mines, somewhere along the tunnels, that boy was blowing the horn for Safi.
(—Safi!)
It felt like someone had just struck her on the back, and she felt strength return to her legs.
“…Rion, you—”
The voice of the dwarf king was coming clearly from the red gem. Perhaps the Awakener’s power was causing the ancient jewel to stir once more.
(—This way! Your magic—use it with the blessing!)
The horn’s call rang out again. Safi gripped the dwarven warhammer and rose to her feet. The golem pointed her out, Jor turned in realization, and Surtr roared.
The monsters freed from the ice also began to move, chasing after her.
“It’s not over yet.”
With the blacksmith’s hammer in her hand, Safi dashed toward the jewel.
She would fight against the Ragnarok.
This is translated by Yume Neiji. Kindly read at yumeineijiworks.wordpress.com.
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