The sound of the horn echoed through the vast chamber.
Golden magical energy filled the air. Along the platforms encircling the hall, massive ballistae began to shed their rust in an instant, and the dwarves who had been turned to stone breathed life once more.
“Rion…!”
Safi could hear it clearly now.
He is coming. Even now, he is running, drawing ever closer to this place. Several of the massive ballistae immediately came to life, their enormous spearheads turning toward the titan, Surtr.
“Stop that dwarf!”
Serpentbone Jor shouted.
From directly behind came Surtr’s roar, and all around, Safi could sense the golems and monsters surging towards her.
She’s still fifty meters away from the red jewel embedded into the wall.
She threw aside her blacksmith bag, keeping only the hammer, and sprinted forward.
Could I cross that short stretch before the monsters closed in from both sides?
Safi’s heart is pounding. A boulder entered the edge of her vision to the left—if she hadn’t ducked, the thrown rock would have crushed her skull.
(—This way, Safi! Your magic!)
The dwarf king’s voice continued to call from the crimson jewel by the wall. She understood instinctively. That jewel was the power source feeding many of the great ballistae. But it wasn’t enough yet—it has not to set the whole mechanism in motion.
Thirty meters left.
“Grrrrrrr!”
The roar of a beast and the sound of claws running over rock came.
“G-Garmr…?”
Red light flared on her right. It was Alvis’s watchdog, spitting flames.
“Gah!”
A fireball launched, bursting just behind her and blasting her forward. She landed in a miraculous roll and then she pushed into another sprint.
Ten meters left.
As if to tell her it wasn’t the end, a huge hand reached from the side—it was an enemy golem.
“Golems, to me!”
From a high platform, a fat magic engineer shouted.
—However, a different armored golem, smashed the attacker aside.
It was a guard golem.
Guard golems are part of the defensive mechanisms the dwarves had left behind. The melting of the ice must have brought them back to life as well. A giant bow ballista on the upper platform is now also firing spear-like arrows to stall the advancing monsters.
“E-everyone…!”
The crimson jewel is now right before Safi’s eyes.
Behind her, the hellhound Garmr’s flames burst again. Riding the blast, Safi leapt and brought her hammer down on the red jewel.
“Blessing!”
It was a technique for pouring magic into an object. The crimson jewel flared brighter, magic spilling forth in a torrent.
(—Thank you.)
She heard the dwarven king’s voice.
The white dwarves had left the mechanisms, and a black dwarf had carried them into the present.
“I-I know it’s a little late to ask, but… is it you, Your Majesty…?”
(—I had been channeling my magic and consciousness into this jewel. The same way a god once did for that horn.)
The awakening horn, Gjallarhorn, that Rion carried with him was said to be the vessel that the god Heimdall had lodged his own soul in. In the same way, the dwarven king must have imbued his soul into this jewel.
For what purpose? Probably to keep its magical power alive.
(—We didn’t have enough magical power… but with your Blessing— the mechanism will begin to move.)
From the crimson jewel, an enormous surge of magic burst forth, racing along the walls. All across the great hall, magical runes flared to life like a field of stars, and Safi understood at once.
“…..This entire hall… it’s a single, massive tool.”
Yes, it’s a cage of some sort— it is meant to lure in the enemy and set the stage for the final confrontation.
In the dazzling light, she thought she felt a small hand gently stroking her head. Along with the magic, an ancient vision passed through her mind.
The scene in her head was of an age long past.
◆◆◆
It was likely a chamber within the royal palace. The glow of magic stone lamps was far brighter than anything in the dungeon it had become, and the white walls still bore clear patterns from that time.
Gathered in the room were dwarves—
Safi realized these were the ten blacksmiths of the dwarven nation, Alfheim. All of them were white dwarves with delicate wings and long ears. One of them was the dwarven king himself.
It seemed that all ten blacksmiths had been summoned except for Safi.
The king then started speaking.
“A messenger came from the titans and the monsters. If we submit to them, they claim they will spare us even through the End.”
At the king’s words, the blacksmiths exchanged troubled looks and muttered to each other.
—A messenger came?
—Telling us to submit?
—But we cannot win!
—The dwarves’ technology, the technology to create something will be used for destruction…
A sharp pain ran through Safi’s chest.
There was no doubt—this was the moment when the dwarves decided whether or not to submit. It was possible that before Safi or the majority of the dwarves even learned of it, the tide of war had already turned drastically against them.
The nation’s Ten Blacksmiths were the pride of the realm, representatives of all craftsmen. In Alfheim, where one’s strength was measured by skill, they were the ten most accomplished of all.
After some time spent in quiet but heated discussion, the white dwarves reached their decision.
“…..We will lay a trap.”
The king declared.
From a face still youthful as a boy’s, his voice rang with resolve.
“To submit to the monsters to survive… is no true survival. It is the same as being dead.”
Little by little, their plan began to take shape—
They would lure the enemy’s general, the Flamebone titan Surtr, into the palace itself. Then they would strike him down with the great ballistae and the guardian golems.
Afterwards, they would bring down the entire mountain to bury the palace forever.
Their aim was clear— to ensure the monsters targeting Alfheim were destroyed beyond any hope of return. And secondly, to survive the enemy’s inevitable counterattack.
If they buried the palace beneath the earth, it might be possible to make the world believe the dwarves had perished along with their foes.
Of course, the cost would be steep. Many warrior dwarves would fall in the battle to come. But dwarves were born to live underground. Even if the palace were smothered in rock and soil, its deepest levels would not collapse.
There, those unable to fight could be hidden away, to endure in the dark through long years until at least some remnant of their people could emerge again.
“The problem is….”
The king paused.
“It’s Safi—one of our own Ten Blacksmiths.”
At those words, the blacksmiths lowered their eyes.
“We cannot allow even the slightest risk that our plan reaches enemy ears.”
A pang of pain tightened in Safi’s chest. She wanted to shout “I’d never betray you!” to them. But the weight of the blacksmiths’ reply crushed her voice in her throat.
—We would like to trust her.
—But we cannot!
—Would a dark dwarf truly resist the enemy’s offer to ‘make her one of them’?
The king’s gaze was steady.
“Safi’s skill surpasses even the other dark dwarves. If she were to learn our stratagem and then yield to the enemy, our greatest craft would be placed in the monster’s hands.”
And so, she was excluded from the plan.
The one whose betrayal would hurt them most would most likely be from a black dwarf, the one who’s most likely to betray. History bore that fear out— dark dwarves, enamored with power, had more than once turned against their kin.
“An excellent blacksmith is also worthy of passing on his skills to future generations. For those two reasons, we cannot involve Safi in this.”
He looked around the chamber.
“Until the battle is over, we will put her to sleep. The chamber will be guarded with our strongest runes and a ring to seal it.”
Pain knifed through Safi’s heart. What the vision had shown her was a memory far too bitter to bear.
“I’d never do such a thing!”
She cried out. But her voice could not reach the past.
—Agreed. There is no other way.
—Even between blacksmiths, some secrets must be sealed.
—When the fate of the realm is at stake, a dark dwarf cannot be trusted lightly…
They had agreed to put her to sleep. Her skill was acknowledged, yet her blood branded with the shadow of betrayal, made them wary.
Untrusted because of the crime of her race’s past, Safi was left to slumber.
◆◆◆
—The plan was for the white dwarves and the ten blacksmiths to carry out their plot alone.
—With the battle approaching, we just couldn’t bring ourselves to trust the black dwarves.
“I—, If only I could help…!”
Preparations proceeded with the white dwarves at the center. The black dwarves weapon blacksmiths were only a selected few, less powerful than the ten blacksmiths, and were kept under supervision.
However, it seems that in the end, all the dwarves would participate. Once the battle actually began and those who fought and those who fled deep underground split into groups, they would tell everyone.
From the dwarven kings’ perspective, this was probably the greatest risk. The fear of rebellion. Keeping the secret from Safi only postponed the same risk.
But the black dwarves…accepted the white dwarves’ request. Not a single one defected to the titans, and most chose to fight.
―As long as it meant Safi could survive.
―Yeah. She’s still young…
―I’d always thought it was presumptuous of a black dwarf to aim to become one of the Ten Blacksmiths, but how, how…
When the black dwarves found out that Safi had been sealed away first, it seemed their bond had only strengthened. They must have thought that Safi, now one of the Ten Blacksmith, was worth preserving for future generations.
The original plan was to lure monsters into the palace, fight them, and bury them, resulting in many casualties.
By that time, the reason for putting Safi to sleep first had changed from “fear of betrayal” to “protecting” Safi herself ―the youngest of the Ten Blacksmiths.
“This…”
Safi’s eyes began to tear up.
The giant weapons that she had seen in the frozen forge, and the scene of the betrayal in the throne room. It was probably a scene where the plan to lure the titan had been left unfinished.
“It’s too late now…!”
I had been sealed away alone for 1,000 years. Safi’s anger and relief were in conflict, and she couldn’t put it into words. Hot lump of blood just spilled from the corners of her eyes.
Jor shouted from the high platform, her black robe swaying.
“That’s right! Your defeat is certain!”
“Aaaaah!”
The golem approached. A blade of wind pierced its feet.
“Safi!”
A voice called out from the hole in the wall.
Rion, holding a horn in his hand, looked down at Safi. He must have come from the hole in the passageway leading to the lift. Behind him were Mia, Felix, Solana and Thor —the gods themselves.
They jumped down from the hole and rushed to Safi. The gods and adventurers protected her from the army of monsters.
“Sorry I’m late.”
Rion said as soon as he rushed over.
Thor, a giant god over two meters tall, shouted, his red hair flying.
“Haha! Surtr, a giant, a puppet, and a demon dog! That’s quite a generous gesture!”
Safi, still crouching on the ground, looked up at the boy with blurred vision.
“…Why did you come?”
Rion hesitated for a moment.
“I’m sorry, I said I would trust you. When the Dwarf King asked before…I didn’t have the courage.”
“But,” Rion continued.
He pulled out a coin purse tied with a leather cord. It was the trinket Safi had praised as the most heartfelt when they first met.
“I remembered. I said, it wasn’t about the black dwarves or anything like that… I’m going to trust you Safi.”
Rion held out his hand to Safi.
Safi timidly took it. His hands are only slightly bigger than hers, but she felt that they are so warm. His sky-blue eyes warmed her heart.
(—Safi, who is this boy?)
The Dwarf King’s voice echoed from the red jewel.
“He is Rion. He is called the god’s awakener—he’s my… my comrade.”
(—I see)
The Dwarf King replied.
“I’m surrounded by monsters. But now, I’m no longer scared.”
Safi muttered.
——Boy, Rion. Please use that horn once more.
——The jewel’s magical power is sufficient. Now is the time for you to truly awaken it.
Rion nodded and put the horn to his mouth.
The horn resonated.
There was movement on the upper floor of the cylindrical hall. The sound of gears driving. What had seemed to be a stone wall caved in, opening up to the left and right, kicking up dust. Hidden inside were even more giant bow ballistas, or weapons that fired magic or iron balls.
——Everyone, fire!
The dwarves’ traps, awakened by the horn, began attacking Flamebone Surtr and the monsters.
The approaching monsters were fended off with Thor’s hammer, Loki’s magic, Uru’s bow, and Valkyrie’s spear.
Solana, the daughter of the Sun, stayed close to Rion and seemed to be strengthening the Golden Flame that resided within the party.
“…Amazing.”
Safi muttered.
Ahead, Flamebone Surtr stood like a fortress. Perched on the platform above it was Snakebone Jor, her face twisted in agony.
Dwarfs, gods, and humans. These three, once separate, now faced off against the Titan of the Apocalypse.
——It’s not too late!
Safi also raised her head and glared back at Flamebone Surtr and Jor.
“Wake up!”
Rion shouted in final force, and the ceiling of the great hall shifted. The existing crack widened, and falling rocks and earth crushed the monsters.
A new wall opened, and a giant arrow pierced the monster.
The crack in the ceiling widened. The moon was still high in the sky. Safi saw a pair of ravens there.
A hooded old man peeked quietly from the crack.
The old man narrowed his eyes at the sight of the dwarves and gods fighting together, then he gently closed one eye and dissolved into the darkness, leaving behind a raven’s feather.
This is translated by Yume Neiji. Kindly read at yumeineijiworks.wordpress.com.
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