Ch.181Chapter 181

Even a galloping horse slows down when it hesitates.

The elves and dwarves who had been acting as if they would stab each other in the back at any moment suddenly became docile after Wendigo sternly intervened.

This wasn’t because of bombs Wendigo had planted in their heads… but rather because their ominous imaginations had done their job well, and truthfully, neither side hated the other enough to kill them.

‘Honestly, wouldn’t it be better to reconcile at this point?’

‘Was this really such a big deal that we needed to offer bribes to get an apology?’

‘If our ancestors saw us holding such petty grudges, they’d mock us for acting like children with peach fuzz on their chins.’

They weren’t barbarians after all—elves and dwarves were both races that had established civilizations.

Naturally, both races possessed common sense.

While they might have overreacted due to unfamiliar situations and environments, they were still aware of lines that shouldn’t be crossed even in excitement.

And what happened this time went beyond crossing the line—it was more like tearing it apart and running away.

Wasting precious time in someone else’s land and whining like children for others to take their side was an unseemly display that couldn’t be overlooked.

Yet the reason they couldn’t simply stop was well…

“Phew… I was worried everyone was acting like madmen, but now that the King of Manheimr has mediated, I can breathe a little easier.”

“You were barking like a madman too.”

“Hey, if I had said ‘I don’t think this is right’ in that situation, I would have been killed by fellow elves, not dwarves. What was I supposed to do?”

“You shouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place… Aaack!?”

Few people could maintain their principles when a group was running wild like a horse in heat.

If it had been a matter of collective pride or personal gain, they might have quit out of disgust, but this time there were rather important issues at stake.

In that sense, the elves and dwarves harbored no great resentment toward Wendigo for publicly scolding them.

In fact, some were deeply grateful to Wendigo for mediating before a pointless fight broke out.

In the end, determining who was at fault first became inconclusive, but why obsess over something so trivial?

“Thanks to Your Majesty’s mediation, many voices of discontent have subsided. I was able to have a conversation with Mr. Trom and resolve the issue amicably. I don’t know how to express my gratitude…”

“We dwarves feel the same way.”

Elhemina and Trom had concluded their negotiations after a rational, formal, and mutually respectful conversation, and they reported this fact to Wendigo.

While enjoying snacks that were more abundant than before, Wendigo asked Elhemina:

“Where’s Messina? She seemed to be sticking to you like a mother wolf looking after her cub.”

“Ahaha… about that.”

Elhemina awkwardly scratched her cheek at the question filled with genuine curiosity. Seeing her hesitation, Wendigo waved his hand and said:

“If it’s something uncomfortable to talk about, you don’t have to tell me. She’s probably disciplining her incompetent subordinates.”

Flinch.

It seemed his guess had hit the mark. Elhemina froze like a statue with a surprised expression.

In truth, it wasn’t a difficult guess. Messina had always exuded a military aura in her attitude and posture.

Someone like her wouldn’t leave subordinates who ran wild and caused problems unpunished, would she?

‘If it weren’t for her position as a priestess and the issue related to The World Tree, she might have executed them rather than just punishing them.’

Pfft.

Wendigo let out a chuckle, thinking that even to himself, that thought was going too far.

She was a priestess after all—surely her “punishment” would be limited to a sermon rather than violence?

“Was my expression that strange?”

“No, I just had a random thought and couldn’t help but laugh. Don’t mind me and continue.”

“Yes. First, we’ve decided to conduct trade in an area slightly removed from the elven residential zone. Since we can’t use The World Tree’s roots every time we come up, we plan to create a passage in a suitable location.”

Trom bowed his head humbly as he answered.

Now that friction had occurred once, there was no reason it couldn’t happen a second time. Wouldn’t the best approach be to minimize interactions from the start?

Even if they would continue to interact in the future, they needed to take things step by step and understand each other.

“That sounds good… Do you have a map? I’d like to see one, even a simple one.”

“I have one, Your Majesty.”

Dario took out a map from his breast pocket and spread it on the table.

It was a detailed map with villages and routes densely drawn around the capital.

Obviously, this wasn’t a map that ordinary farmers or merchants could carry around. How could a merchant possess such a map?

A merchant carrying such a detailed map would be practically advertising themselves as a spy.

Noticing Wendigo’s intention, Dario pointed to a location he had already been considering and addressed Wendigo:

“How about this area for the dwarf residential zone? There are no villages nearby, and it’s close to the capital. It’s not too far from The World Tree either, so meeting with elves wouldn’t be difficult.”

“Trom, what do you think?”

“We’re not familiar with the surface geography… Please designate any location as long as there are no major issues for trade. We will simply strive to repay the grace Your Majesty has bestowed upon us.”

“The path back to your clan won’t be easy, will it?”

They had come up quickly thanks to The World Tree snatching them, but to avoid hardship when going down and traveling back and forth in the future, they would need to dig good tunnels.

If they dug tunnels from the land Dario had chosen, wouldn’t the return journey be quite complicated?

“Hehehe, we dwarves have been born with the talent for finding our way home, perhaps because we live in places where ceilings and floors all look the same.”

Trom pounded his chest as he spoke of his memory(?) of falling into an ant colony and taking a month to return to his clan.

‘It would probably be rude to joke that they’re like salmon.’

Though he thought it might be fine since they probably wouldn’t know what a salmon was, he simply nodded, not wanting to risk creating petty grudges if they later learned about salmon.

Wendigo gestured, and Dario rolled up the map and put it back in his pocket.

Slouching in a chair sized for his bulk, Wendigo looked up at the empty air and said:

“Trom will do his utmost to manage and protect The World Tree’s roots in exchange for the right to trade with the surface. I leave it to Trom’s discretion to convince the clan king, guild master, and other vested interests.”

Trom nodded with a determined face.

Though he came from a humble mining family barely worthy of being called a house, how could he not have ambitions?

Using this opportunity as a cornerstone, Trom was prepared to run until his body broke to seize wealth, honor, and power.

Of course, if he lacked ability, he might lose his rights and meet a miserable end…

‘But I have no reason to consider that. He made his choice, and strictly speaking, Trom is not a citizen of Manheimr.’

Giving him the opportunity was already as much generosity as could be expected.

Wendigo set aside his thoughts and continued:

“The elves have the right to receive reports through The World Tree on whether the dwarves are properly managing the roots. Additionally, some byproducts from managing the roots will be supplied to the elves.”

This time, Elhemina nodded.

If they could manage The World Tree’s roots, the tree would naturally become healthier.

Moreover, they now had the opportunity to research byproducts from the roots they had never dared touch before, so it wasn’t an entirely bad deal for the elves.

“If anyone has any objections, speak now.”

“None. We elves will fully comply with the judgment made by the King of Manheimr.”

“We feel the same. We are grateful for your kindness and will certainly show results that will satisfy the King of Manheimr.”

Who would be crazy enough to object?

As both expressed their gratitude with greatly satisfied expressions, Wendigo nodded.

The final task was…

“Let’s conclude with Elhemina and Trom shaking hands.”

“Shaking… hands?”

“Why suddenly…?”

Elhemina and Trom rose from their seats with puzzled expressions. Even if they didn’t understand why, they had to stand up since Wendigo had ordered it.

Wendigo was equally puzzled. Wasn’t it natural for parties to shake hands when something was concluded?

“…In Manheimr, we shake hands when making a contract. It’s a wish for the contract to last long and remain strong, like interconnected chains.”

“It seems humans have such a culture. I thought I had studied humans diligently, but I need to study harder.”

“Indeed, it seems like a rather nice custom.”

Impressed by the unexpectedly meaningful gesture, Elhemina and Trom shook hands.

It looked a bit awkward as they both had to stand on tiptoes due to Trom’s relatively short height, but… as long as both sides were smiling with satisfaction, wasn’t that fine?

As Wendigo watched them nodding, Dario asked incredulously:

“Since when have we had such a custom?”

“Starting today.”

When Wendigo answered confidently, Dario closed his mouth, unable to find words.

How could a mere subject argue when the king declared something a custom starting today?

“Your expression is quite irreverent.”

“Honestly, I think Master Geron would have had the same reaction if he heard what you just said.”

“Geron has always been like that.”

“……”

Dario silently expressed his condolences to Geron, who was probably still whipping bureaucrats and overseeing Manheimr’s administration today.

How many things must he have wanted to say to His Majesty but held back?

Knock knock!

“I apologize for interrupting the meeting, but it’s already past lunchtime. If it’s alright with you, perhaps you could continue after having a meal?”

“Oh my, is it that time already…”

“A meal… The elven cuisine is certainly delicious. How about we end the meeting and have a meal?”

When Wendigo asked in a gentle voice, everyone nodded. If nothing else, they all knew he enjoyed eating.

The elves served delicacies supported by their homeland, and Wendigo, humming a tune that didn’t suit him, devoured whole king crabs baked with cheese and garlic.

As he picked up the next king crab, he asked Dario:

“By the way, when are you planning to hold the wedding?”

“Pfuuuuhhh!?”

Dario, who had been elegantly savoring his wine, drew a rainbow in the air at the unexpected attack.

“S-Suddenly asking such a question is quite embarrassing…”

“Hmm… I think we could get married next year, couldn’t we?”

“Elhemina?”

Elhemina, who was wiping Dario’s messy face, answered with a fresh smile.

Dario looked at Elhemina in surprise at the answer they had never discussed. But Elhemina caressed his cheek with a smile as beautiful as a blooming flower and asked:

“Don’t you want to?”

“No… I mean, of course I do.”

They say a beautiful woman’s smile can melt a man’s heart and cause fever—Dario nodded as he embraced Elhemina as if enchanted.

“Indeed… I thought you two made a good match, but I didn’t realize you were lovers. If it’s alright with you, I’d like to gift you jewelry as a wedding present.”

Trom, who had been quietly observing the situation, gulped down some strong liquor and asked the couple:

“Is that really okay?”

Dario, who had been interested in dwarven metallurgy, asked back with great joy. He had liked the gold ring the dwarves had given as a bribe because it was so beautiful, and now he would receive something like that as a wedding gift.

“Yes. I’d like to give Priestess Elhemina jewelry in the elven style, and Lord Dario jewelry in the dwarven style.”

Since both were not of low status, they would hold their wedding ceremony with the blessings of hundreds.

If people saw elven and dwarven jewelry together in one place, it might help foster friendly relations between the two races.

Understanding his intention, Dario and Elhemina gladly accepted the proposal.

Simply sharing happiness and joy can make anyone closer.

Wendigo chewed on his king crab, hoping that elves, dwarves, and Manheimr would maintain friendly relations.

* * *

A few days later, the dwarves and Wendigo left the elven residential area together.

Dario seemed inwardly disappointed to leave Elhemina behind and return to the capital, but he didn’t throw a tantrum.

“I can’t show an unseemly side to Elhemina.”

Like a man who had confirmed his lover’s affection.

Dario guided Trom more enthusiastically than anyone else, wanting to act like a man worthy of Elhemina.

Following Dario’s guidance, the dwarves examined the land they arrived at to determine if they could dig tunnels and build structures, and fortunately, Trom confirmed that there would be no major issues for dwarves to live there.

“Honestly, we can manage with just trees. As for buildings… given the situation, we can just expand the tunnels a bit and that’s that.”

“I’ll send messengers regularly, so if you meet them, record what you need and send it back. I’ll at least help you get settled.”

“Hehehe, you’ve already lent us this vast land—what more could we ask for? Don’t worry.”

Trom and the dwarves set up a temporary camp on the designated land and began excavating toward their homeland. Wendigo named the land Dwargbog.

As for the meaning…

“Even so, ‘Dwarf City’ is a bit…”

“Everyone’s going to call it that anyway.”

“That’s true, but if it’s officially decided, it will be recorded that way in documents.”

“That’s better than causing confusion.”

Since Wendigo’s answer had some logic to it, Dario gave up arguing. If the dwarves asked to change it before harboring grudges, they could change it then.

After resolving all issues and returning, Wendigo informed his subjects and officials of this development.

The discovery of, negotiations with, and trade agreements with skilled metallurgists—dwarves who lived underground.

At first, people listened with expressions that seemed to say, “Ah, there are too many races in this world,” but their eyes lit up at the mention of trade.

How much profit could be gained from trading with dwarves who possessed excellent metallurgical skills?

The subjects praised Wendigo’s achievement in pioneering a new trade route, but…

“…You do know that officials across Manheimr are working with reduced sleep to manage the aftermath of the war, right?”

“I’m sorry. But I didn’t do anything wrong. Thanks to this, we’ll get quality…”

“Urgh!!!”

Geron and the officials, overwhelmed with work, felt like collapsing and grabbing the backs of their necks.

Why did the king always return with new tasks bundled up whenever he left the capital?

“Your Majesty!!!”

“I’m really sorry.”

What could they do when the king himself apologized?

Today again, Manheimr’s officials continued working overtime to solve the homework left by the king.