The dwarf Safi had a much longer lifespan than humans. Though she looked like a five or six-year-old girl, she had lived many times longer—decades, even over a century. Such long experience had taught her that time never flowed the same way twice. Sometimes it surged past in an instant. Other times, it dragged on leisurely. The perception of time itself changed with circumstances. Lately, she realized, time was clearly passing faster.
“Ah-choo!”
Safi sneezed softly, but the sound echoed oddly through the silent cathedral.
She checked from the second floor to see if anyone else had heard—thankfully, the building seemed empty.
Today, she had to carve defensive magical runes throughout the cathedral.
“Gotta rush… all right!”
Seven days had nearly passed since the royal capital had been attacked by monsters.
There was a mountain of work to do. Safi set traps and protective measures across the base to keep Rion’s sister, Luisia, safe. The reinforcements from her homeland, the dwarf kingdom of Alfheim, were a great help. With more hands to help and being an expert blacksmith, Safi could focus on the most critical points.
“All right… there!”
Safi struck the wall one final time with her golden hammer. The magical rune she had carved shimmered into view, and the cathedral walls gained the hardness of steel.
“Well… if the enemy ever reaches this far, it’s already a dire situation—but better safe than sorry. Please, work properly.”
She spoke softly to the rune, a kind of wish, even though it had no consciousness.
“Now, what’s next?”
Before she could decide, a loud, charged voice came from outside.
“Hah!”
Her shoulders jerked involuntarily. Safi opened a window on the cathedral’s second floor and looked down at the training yard. Inside the castle walls, the space was tight, and the buildings were close together. Directly below the window was the training area.
And there he was—Rion, locked in combat.
His opponent was the towering, muscular form of the god Thor, wrapped in rough cloth. Red hair streamed in the wind, spreading out with an almost oppressive presence. Just standing before him, Safi thought, she might lose her footing from the sheer intimidation.
“…He’s really going at it.”
It was a serious duel. Rion gripped his dagger tightly, his breath already ragged, his body marked with cuts.
And Thor—
“Here I go!”
The massive hammer swung in a wide arc. Rion was sent flying, crashing into a pile of firewood against the wall. He sank into it as if he had plopped into a deep sofa, half-buried by the logs.
Safi instinctively covered her eyes.
Thor’s gaze, however, was calm, almost teasing, as if he were smiling at her.
“What’s wrong?”
She wanted to shout, “What’s wrong? You’re taking this way too seriously!”—but of course, it wouldn’t reach him.
Rion himself rose to his feet.
“I… I feel more awake now.” he said.
He stepped out from the pile of firewood and readied his sword again. He had recovery skills, no doubt, yet he made no effort to heal his wounds.
“…So, they’re pushing him to the very edge of his limits, huh.”
Having survived countless fierce battles, Rion’s level had skyrocketed. And only an ultimate power could push him this hard—someone like a god.
Safi let out a quiet breath of relief.
Ever since Heimdall had joined our ranks, the gods’ activity had increased dramatically. Uru, the God of Hunting, was using surrounding wildlife to scout for any suspicious movements. Loki was investigating Ymir’s power—a task of utmost importance, for no one yet knew exactly how Ymir would attack the royal capital, or what spell had sent massive monsters into the city. Meanwhile, Sigris, the Medicine God, was teaching the priests how to craft potions.
It was, quite literally, a rerun of the myth itself. And in a sense, Rion had already earned the title of hero. For Safi, that had been true long ago—ever since he had rushed to help the dwarf kingdom of Alfheim.
—I believe in you!
Those words rang in Safi’s mind as Rion had once stood against the flame-bone Surtr to protect her when she was truly in danger. He had persuaded hesitant companions, too. The black dwarves Dwerg are considered close to a monster. That prejudice had existed even in the age of myths. Even Safi herself had given up hope that anyone—let alone someone like Rion—would ever help her.
But he had believed.
“—Ah.”
Her cheeks flamed hot.
This is bad, Safi thought. The work was done, yet she couldn’t step outside like this. She would have to hide upstairs for a while, waiting for her blush to fade.
“…I really messed up, didn’t I?”
Experience had taught her well.
Safi knew the truth—she liked Rion. But… there was no changing this feeling. Which meant, in a way, she had failed from the start. She raised one finger, as if making a solemn point to herself.
“The mistake was… falling for him in the first place. We’re different races. Different lifespans. Everything’s different—”
Sunlight passed over her chest, and a sharp pang of longing tightened Safi’s heart.
At that moment, she heard footsteps climbing the stairs.
“Safi-dono…?”
It was her apprentice, the one she had brought from Alfheim.
Though the Dwerg’s face, if human, might seem like someone in his forties—making the contrast with the youthful Safi striking—he was indeed her student. In appearance, they could almost pass for parent and child, but in reality, Safi was the master, and this little black dwarf was the apprentice.
Now, they were known collectively as the “Safi Group,” a small team of Dwerg engineers, and this one served as the de facto vice-leader.
“Oh? What is it?”
“The outer magical rune setup is finished as well.”
“Thank you. That helps a lot.”
Safi smiled, but at that instant, another loud boom sounded from outside.
She hurried to the window. The massive hammer, Mjolnir, had struck the ground. As the smoke cleared, Rion appeared to have escaped the blow from the earth-cracking weapon.
“…Thank goodness.”
“Rion-dono, you mean?”
Her heart leapt.
Safi shot a sharp glance at the little Dwerg, only to have their eyes flit away.
“…Well, you were staring out the window for a while just now.”
He mumbled, offering what sounded like an awkward excuse.
“From down in the atrium, I could see…”
“I was watching.”
“Yes. Well… when Safi-dono makes that face, it’s usually easy to guess who she’s looking at.”
The little Dwerg gave a wry smile.
“…I think it’s fine, you know.”
“Fine? What’s fine?”
“We’re blacksmiths. We strike iron. If I may speak with the concern of an old hand… it looks like you’re trying to forcibly cool down a glowing red iron.”
Safi pursed her lips and said nothing.
“…We live long lives. If you fail to express your feelings, it can be painful for a long time afterward. That’s my old-person worry.”
With that, he bowed repeatedly and departed, leaving Safi alone in the quiet cathedral.
Even the sounds of training from outside had ceased. Peering down from the window, she saw Rion taking a break, looking momentarily at ease.
—For now… I’ll keep my feelings hidden.
She resolved this, at least temporarily. Yet he had been training hard, and some of his gear might be worn or in need of repair.
—Maybe I should at least call out to him.
With that kind of resolve, and crushing her true feelings with the hammer of reason, Safi left the cathedral.Even at a time like this, the spring breeze carries the scent of flowers.
Chapter 160: Safi’s feelings
The dwarf Safi had a much longer lifespan than humans. Though she looked like a five or six-year-old girl, she had lived many times longer—decades, even over a century. Such long experience had taught her that time never flowed the same way twice. Sometimes it surged past in an instant. Other times, it dragged on leisurely. The perception of time itself changed with circumstances. Lately, she realized, time was clearly passing faster.
“Ah-choo!”
Safi sneezed softly, but the sound echoed oddly through the silent cathedral.
She checked from the second floor to see if anyone else had heard—thankfully, the building seemed empty.
Today, she had to carve defensive magical runes throughout the cathedral.
“Gotta rush… all right!”
Seven days had nearly passed since the royal capital had been attacked by monsters.
There was a mountain of work to do. Safi set traps and protective measures across the base to keep Rion’s sister, Luisia, safe. The reinforcements from her homeland, the dwarf kingdom of Alfheim, were a great help. With more hands to help and being an expert blacksmith, Safi could focus on the most critical points.
“All right… there!”
Safi struck the wall one final time with her golden hammer. The magical rune she had carved shimmered into view, and the cathedral walls gained the hardness of steel.
“Well… if the enemy ever reaches this far, it’s already a dire situation—but better safe than sorry. Please, work properly.”
She spoke softly to the rune, a kind of wish, even though it had no consciousness.
“Now, what’s next?”
Before she could decide, a loud, charged voice came from outside.
“Hah!”
Her shoulders jerked involuntarily. Safi opened a window on the cathedral’s second floor and looked down at the training yard. Inside the castle walls, the space was tight, and the buildings were close together. Directly below the window was the training area.
And there he was—Rion, locked in combat.
His opponent was the towering, muscular form of the god Thor, wrapped in rough cloth. Red hair streamed in the wind, spreading out with an almost oppressive presence. Just standing before him, Safi thought, she might lose her footing from the sheer intimidation.
“…He’s really going at it.”
It was a serious duel. Rion gripped his dagger tightly, his breath already ragged, his body marked with cuts.
And Thor—
“Here I go!”
The massive hammer swung in a wide arc. Rion was sent flying, crashing into a pile of firewood against the wall. He sank into it as if he had plopped into a deep sofa, half-buried by the logs.
Safi instinctively covered her eyes.
Thor’s gaze, however, was calm, almost teasing, as if he were smiling at her.
“What’s wrong?”
She wanted to shout, “What’s wrong? You’re taking this way too seriously!”—but of course, it wouldn’t reach him.
Rion himself rose to his feet.
“I… I feel more awake now.” he said.
He stepped out from the pile of firewood and readied his sword again. He had recovery skills, no doubt, yet he made no effort to heal his wounds.
“…So, they’re pushing him to the very edge of his limits, huh.”
Having survived countless fierce battles, Rion’s level had skyrocketed. And only an ultimate power could push him this hard—someone like a god.
Safi let out a quiet breath of relief.
Ever since Heimdall had joined our ranks, the gods’ activity had increased dramatically. Uru, the God of Hunting, was using surrounding wildlife to scout for any suspicious movements. Loki was investigating Ymir’s power—a task of utmost importance, for no one yet knew exactly how Ymir would attack the royal capital, or what spell had sent massive monsters into the city. Meanwhile, Sigris, the Medicine God, was teaching the priests how to craft potions.
It was, quite literally, a rerun of the myth itself. And in a sense, Rion had already earned the title of hero. For Safi, that had been true long ago—ever since he had rushed to help the dwarf kingdom of Alfheim.
—I believe in you!
Those words rang in Safi’s mind as Rion had once stood against the flame-bone Surtr to protect her when she was truly in danger. He had persuaded hesitant companions, too. The black dwarves Dwerg are considered close to a monster. That prejudice had existed even in the age of myths. Even Safi herself had given up hope that anyone—let alone someone like Rion—would ever help her.
But he had believed.
“—Ah.”
Her cheeks flamed hot.
This is bad, Safi thought. The work was done, yet she couldn’t step outside like this. She would have to hide upstairs for a while, waiting for her blush to fade.
“…I really messed up, didn’t I?”
Experience had taught her well.
Safi knew the truth—she liked Rion. But… there was no changing this feeling. Which meant, in a way, she had failed from the start. She raised one finger, as if making a solemn point to herself.
“The mistake was… falling for him in the first place. We’re different races. Different lifespans. Everything’s different—”
Sunlight passed over her chest, and a sharp pang of longing tightened Safi’s heart.
At that moment, she heard footsteps climbing the stairs.
“Safi-dono…?”
It was her apprentice, the one she had brought from Alfheim.
Though the Dwerg’s face, if human, might seem like someone in his forties—making the contrast with the youthful Safi striking—he was indeed her student. In appearance, they could almost pass for parent and child, but in reality, Safi was the master, and this little black dwarf was the apprentice.
Now, they were known collectively as the “Safi Group,” a small team of Dwerg engineers, and this one served as the de facto vice-leader.
“Oh? What is it?”
“The outer magical rune setup is finished as well.”
“Thank you. That helps a lot.”
Safi smiled, but at that instant, another loud boom sounded from outside.
She hurried to the window. The massive hammer, Mjolnir, had struck the ground. As the smoke cleared, Rion appeared to have escaped the blow from the earth-cracking weapon.
“…Thank goodness.”
“Rion-dono, you mean?”
Her heart leapt.
Safi shot a sharp glance at the little Dwerg, only to have their eyes flit away.
“…Well, you were staring out the window for a while just now.”
He mumbled, offering what sounded like an awkward excuse.
“From down in the atrium, I could see…”
“I was watching.”
“Yes. Well… when Safi-dono makes that face, it’s usually easy to guess who she’s looking at.”
The little Dwerg gave a wry smile.
“…I think it’s fine, you know.”
“Fine? What’s fine?”
“We’re blacksmiths. We strike iron. If I may speak with the concern of an old hand… it looks like you’re trying to forcibly cool down a glowing red iron.”
Safi pursed her lips and said nothing.
“…We live long lives. If you fail to express your feelings, it can be painful for a long time afterward. That’s my old-person worry.”
With that, he bowed repeatedly and departed, leaving Safi alone in the quiet cathedral.
Even the sounds of training from outside had ceased. Peering down from the window, she saw Rion taking a break, looking momentarily at ease.
—For now… I’ll keep my feelings hidden.
She resolved this, at least temporarily. Yet he had been training hard, and some of his gear might be worn or in need of repair.
—Maybe I should at least call out to him.
With that kind of resolve, and crushing her true feelings with the hammer of reason, Safi left the cathedral.
Even at a time like this, the spring breeze carries the scent of flowers.
This is translated by Yume Neiji. Kindly read at yumeneijiworks.com
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