Chapter 130. Legacy (1)

It was a widely known fact that dwarves were not only excellent blacksmiths but also excellent architects.

However, it was surprisingly rare for people to have seen the results of that common knowledge firsthand.

While you could buy dwarf-made armaments at the market by paying a premium, you couldn't do the same with their architecture.

Since you couldn't move it, you had to go see it in person, but this wasn't a world with free transportation like 21st-century Earth.

A world without cars, let alone planes or trains.

Wild animals, bandits, unpaved roads, hungry beastmen, or stray undead, and various other risk factors scattered everywhere.

For a commoner, a journey was an act of risking their life.

Nobles who could be accompanied by guards and ride horses or carriages were a bit better off, but the moment they crossed the border, it was the same for them.

Especially if you wanted to go to a dwarf hold, you had to pass through the wasteland, which could be compared to a walking tour through a gang-controlled area in Central America with a bag full of cash.

The wasteland was a lawless zone controlled by a gang called orcs, and the soft flesh of humans was like a tempting gold nugget to them.

Anyway, to describe my impression after looking closely at the dwarf hold after crossing that difficult path, I would say it felt like I had come to a game of a different genre.

The height of the buildings, the carved pillars, the decorated walls and smooth floors, even the flagstones laid on the streets.

Each and every one felt like looking at a game concept art drawn as beautifully as possible by hiring an illustrator.

However, there was a disaster that even such magnificent and splendid architecture could not escape.

Orc shit.

"Ugh, the smell is really..."

"Did these bastards just eat and shit all day?"

"Bring one more cart over here!"

On the beautiful streets of the Everlasting Mountains Hold, or rather, the streets that would have been beautiful, we were shoveling shit.

It was at the request of the Dwarf King Ungol.

He said that the orcs had stayed on the surface of the hold for several months, and the amount of meat they ate and shit they produced was simply too much for the small dwarf population to handle.

Of course, he didn't ask for it with empty words.

The dwarf king promised to pay each participating soldier in gold.

The amount was considerable, as if he intended to release all the gold he had mined while trapped in the hold's underground.

A common soldier could double the money they earned on this expedition by working for just a few days.

He also said that if it was difficult to carry, they could open an account at the Dwarven Federation Bank and deposit it.

For a change, I also participated in the sweaty labor.

"Doesn't it smell to you, Viscount?"

"It's fine."

"It seems you take on all the dirty work. Like at Tubon Fortress last time."

A soldier said, wiping the sweat with the back of his hand.

He was a man with a bushy bandit's beard like old man Brol.

"Originally, for this kind of work, the commander has to set an example."

"Usually, they just say that. Ugh, anyway, how did these guys live in this state? Don't they get sick from shitting next to their own campsite?"

"Have you ever heard of an orc dying from sickness?"

The soldier burst out laughing, perhaps finding his own words absurd.

But it seemed he had breathed in too deeply while laughing.

The laughing bastard suddenly started coughing and dry heaving.

"Puhaha! That idiot... ugh, cough!"

"Uweegh! Uweegh!"

The fellow soldiers who saw that burst out laughing, and there was a commotion as they all dry heaved together.

I made a similar motion.

Of course, it was just a motion.

[Deploying [Selective Loss of Taste].]

‘While he himself doesn't even smell it... a deceiver without peer in the world.’

‘That's our master's true self. You'll get used to it soon.’

Let's ignore the undisciplined grumbling coming from the subspace.

Originally, when a new recruit came in, they were given an adjustment period at the beginning, and discipline tended to be a bit lax.

When the labor was over, it was time for a short but sweet break.

I took a shower in the room prepared on the upper floor of the hold palace and then filled the bronze bathtub with gushing hot water.

Soaking in the hot water, I pulled over the desk attached to the bathtub and looked over various documents, and time passed quickly.

The expedition's supply status, the trade agreement to be signed with the dwarves, the distribution of merits and spoils from the battle, the proposal to import the dwarves' stone-bread recipe....

‘Master! Absolutely not! How could you bring such a filthy thing into the sacred territory...!’

‘Tick-tock-aaak!!’

...I'll have to reject this one.

I spent the time signing where I needed to sign and writing down the direction of revision or the reason for rejection for revisions and rejections respectively.

As water droplets dripped from the faucet and the fountain pen scratched, the sunlight coming through the bathroom window broke gently on the water in the bathtub.

By the time the rising steam cooled, the water in the bathtub had also turned a deep crimson.

"...Hoo."

I pushed the documents aside and sank deep into the water.

Soaking with only the part above my mouth out of the water and getting lost in thought was one of my few hobbies that had been passed down from my previous life.

They said that a person's brainwaves when showering became similar to when they were dreaming.

Bathing was a similar feeling.

I could think from a different perspective, a richer one than usual.

Looking at the clouds flowing by, soaked in the color of the sunset outside the window, I reviewed this battle.

I could think of it in one word.

‘It was a dangerous operation.’

Not only did I have to fight and command in different places with my body split in two, but I also had to face two legendary heroes in that state.

The High Priest of the Ratmen Technopriest Council was a dangerous enemy, but the danger level of the Orc Great Chieftain Ulruk far surpassed him.

‘…Level 8. Maybe even level 9.’

A high-level hero of a rank I had never faced before.

An enemy difficult to face even with full concentration.

Where in the world was there a bastard who shot down flying mortar shells with a stone.

He was a monster who caused the ground to crack as if an earthquake had occurred when he struck the ground with his iron club, and who could jump tens of meters high.

If Randal hadn't been man-marking him, we wouldn't have even been able to tie him down.

On top of that, with Balkan and I sticking to him and Karen's sniping digging in at the right time, we were barely able to prevent the formation from collapsing.

‘It was a relief that Olif's Nameless Knights and the Church Army under Alina did more than their part. And luck was on our side too.’

Like the High Priest's mental breakdown after using the sacred relic's authority.

Or the fact that the large-scale spell bombardment that I was supposed to be in charge of was taken care of by the witch of mad fire who had followed Viscount Pewin.

Especially, the sacred relic 'The Eye that Gazes Beyond', or 'Eyeball', which I had taken from the High Priest, played a big role in the final stage of the operation.

‘The original plan was to defeat the Great Chieftain who had become near-death from one artillery shot, and naturally pass on William's identity.’

The variable was the Great Chieftain.

The bastard had received power from the church.

The regenerative ability with black veins appearing and the body swelling up was definitely the [The Darkness that Writhes Under the Skin] trait obtained through the church's secret art.

That ability, which was on my list of cheat traits I had created, was activated in a crisis situation and greatly boosted overall physical abilities and regenerative power.

That was why he had survived a direct hit from a dwarf-made cannonball that was comparable to a high-level spell.

Honestly, it was a crisis.

Because due to the dust flying from all sides, it was difficult to even aim from the second shot onwards.

If my clone body hadn't been caught by him at the last moment, even I, with the map in my head, wouldn't have been able to call out the coordinates.

If it weren't for Eyeball's teleportation ability, I would have been treated as killed in action by friendly fire or would have had to make a rather convoluted excuse.

‘The statue's ability was more than 50% of this operation.’

Anyway, looking at the results alone, there was nothing to fault.

I had held the Orc Great Chieftain so he couldn't escape amidst the artillery fire, and became a hero who survived the fierce bombardment with Luark's blessing.

Just as I was once called the 'God-Chosen Mercenary Captain' in Wolfskrig, now the words 'the hero sent to the Empire by God' were circulating.

Thanks to that, in addition to a huge reward for the reinforcements, I was offered good conditions in the newly pioneered land trade route.

By the way, I could hear footsteps outside.

It seemed someone was coming....

"Viscount! Visc... Oof, you startled me. I'm sorry. I didn't know you were bathing."

"Don't you knock?"

"In the territory, you're always working in your office. I forgot you don't have a separate office here. I was thoughtless. I'm sorry."

Old man Brol, who had suddenly opened the door and entered, scratched the back of his head.

Well, since we were both men, it didn't really matter.

Karen would be horrified if she heard of this scene.

"So what's the matter?"

"The artillery commander is looking for you, Viscount."

"William?"

"He said he found what you asked him to. He said he couldn't give me the details. I didn't press him."

"Tell him I'll be out soon."

It seemed I wouldn't have time to rest today.

Because William seemed to have finished the task I had entrusted to him faster than expected.

The hidden master craftsman of the dwarves, who was called the 'Nameless Exile' until World Scenario 3.0.

It was time to go find the legacy Duke Bukrum left for his disciple.

* * *

I got dressed and left my quarters.

It was closer to combat gear than casual wear.

Silver steel plate armor, made lightweight at the Kambad Merchant Guild's blacksmith so I could wear it by myself.

A pansteel robe that consumed mana to block spells of level 3 or lower.

A mithril sword I had swiped from the Steamforge.

And even the staff I had purchased at a high price in Wolfskrig before the expedition.

"Ah, Viscount."

William was waiting outside the door.

Before leaving, I told old man Brol who was scratching his head beside me.

"If anyone's looking for me, tell them I went for a walk."

"Got it."

"William, let's go."

We didn't say much while entering the hold.

The occasional conversation we had was all trivial chatter like what we had for lunch today or how much orc shit was piled up.

We went down to the lower floor of the palace and passed through the door leading to the hold's underground.

The dwarf guards already knew my identity, so there was no particular inspection.

After entering the underground part of the hold, we went through the wide central passage and into the interconnected passages that were like a spiderweb.

Naturally, there were dwarves who recognized William from time to time.

"Oh, William! Where are you going?"

"The Viscount said he wanted to look around the hold, so I'm guiding him."

"Is that so? Good work. Enjoy your tour, Viscount Wolfskrig. On your way, try the specialty of the Everlasting Mountains, stone-bread."

"Haha, thank you."

Currently, William was as famous among the dwarves as I was.

Because he was the number one contributor who drove the Ratmen out of the Steamforge, reactivated the hold's power source, the 'Heart', and led the battle to victory.

Of course, since it was something I did, William would have no such memory.

I had told William that I had borrowed his identity and done various things, excluding the story about the statue's ability.

William himself seemed to have grasped the situation while receiving the dwarves' hospitality for the past few days.

‘Hmm, he's a rare, loyal friend for a human.’

That was Eyeball's impression.

For a newcomer, he was quite talkative.

I had a feeling from the way he was expressing his unfairness when we first met.

As we walked, a huge cavern and a wide lake unfolded before our eyes.

It was one of the sources of the water veins in the underground of the Everlasting Mountains Hold.

‘My uncle's last words were this. I have left you a memento. If you ever have a chance to visit the Everlasting Mountains Hold, go to the source of the underground water vein and look deep inside the crystal cave.’

William had said so before.

I followed him into one of the caves connected to the cavern.

The passage of the cave was quite wide.

Shining crystal veins were exposed here and there on the walls.

There were no traces of mining at all.

It meant that the dwarves' footsteps hadn't reached here, and there was no monitoring equipment inside the hold.

"I have found my uncle's legacy."

William broke the silence.

"Congratulations."

"The reason I brought you here, Viscount... is of course to show you, but also because there is a problem that requires your help."

"A problem?"

"That is..."

Tong.

The sound of my footsteps changed.

I looked down at my feet.

It took a little time to recognize it in the darkness.

The place I was standing was a boundary where the natural cave floor disappeared and a jet-black floor began.

"...Metal."

The faint light emitted from the crystal veins revealed a darkish luster even in the darkness.

I illuminated the surroundings with a halo of light miracle.

William, who squinted his face as if it was bright, said.

"It was bigger than I thought. Seeing that it's almost buried in the ground, this seems to be the upper part, but I have no idea what it's for. I can't dig it out by myself. And it's not like I can use explosives either..."

While William was muttering, I slowly walked on the metal body.

Although it was half-buried in the ground, I could recognize its form when I shone a light on it.

A smooth curved surface.

A large protruding propeller.

A tail fin for steering.

"Especially, I don't know what that is. Seeing that it's sticking out by itself, it seems to be an important part, but the shape of it, like wide bars stacked on top of each other, I just don't..."

"William?"

"...Yes?"

"Jackpot."

I had obtained an aerial battleship.