The Dwarf’s Child 2

Doyun channeled his mana into the hammer.

Wooong-

“Eh? G-, Grandfather! That hammer is…”

“Huaah…!”

The embellished engravings on the hammer radiated light.

Doyun proffered the unsealed hammer to the old man.

Briefly entranced by the mystical power emanating from its brilliance, the old man soon collected himself, accepting it with trembling hands.

“Aaah…!”

Upon gripping the hammer, the light seeped into his body.

His atrophied joints and muscles regained the vigor of his youth as his frail, decrepit arms swelled with the sturdy musculature befitting an active master smith once more.

The hammer bestowed its smithing prowess upon him.

“That hammer cannot be stolen. It returns to its true master’s hand whenever desired.”

Those words caused the old man’s eyes to widen at Doyun.

“You claim to have betrayed the dwarves, yet this hammer’s presence suggests they respected your choice.”

The old man’s irises wavered unsteadily as the hammer shook in his grip.

“Truly…”

Like a flickering zoetrope, faces of his dwarven village family flashed through his mind – not his unknown blood kin, but the dwarves who had raised him as their own.

They smiled warmly at him.

“Aaah…”

Overwhelmed by the complex, tumultuous emotions of gratitude and sorrow, the old man ultimately collapsed to the floor, sobbing.

The girl and Doyun waited patiently as he wept.

After composing himself, the old man bowed deeply to Doyun.

“Thank you… You have become a benefactor to this old man… Truly, thank you…”

Doyun simply nodded silently – merely repaying a debt to an old friend.

“However… did you not say its power only answered its designated master? How did you, Apostle…”

“Hmm…”

After a momentary contemplation, Doyun provided a plausible pretext.

“Sir Enoch too was registered as a master alongside this hammer. And I have inherited Sir Enoch’s legacy.”

“…!”

The girl and old man gaped with comically bulging eyes, as if privy to the world’s greatest secret.

“S-, Sir Enoch’s…!”

His deceptive abilities had improved enough to cover such minor falsehoods.

Moreover, his exploits excavating Enoch’s ruins were widely known, further substantiating the claim.

“From those ruins, I recovered his remains and read his chronicles. I knew of the friendship between the dwarven Zaccuroth and Sir Enoch. Hence, I could not ignore your plight.”

“Aaah…”

“Do not keep berating yourself as a betrayer. The dwarves do not view you as such.”

The bowed old man wept chicken-tear droplets.

“Cast aside those guilt pangs and lend your strength to the Alliance’s cause instead.”

‘You are my friend Zaccuroth’s child, after all.’

Leaving the old man and girl behind, Doyun exited the workshop, though not before placing some gold coins on the table.

Outside, he retrieved a portable communication stone and made a call.

“Ellora. If you’re not too busy, I have a small favor to ask?”

[Of course! What is it?]

“I’m currently in the Omniver territory of Rockenmeyer. Could you send word that I’ll be visiting the duke shortly…?”

His footsteps headed not for the stables, but the ducal manor itself.

+++

“A defiant Apostle, you say?”

The toad-like duke spoke through mouthfuls of maid-served fruit.

Before him stood the soldier who had reported Doyun’s earlier interference at the smithy.

“Yes sir!”

“An Apostle, you say… An otherworlder then?”

“His features suggest as much, sir!”

Pondering the report, the duke fell into contemplation. How long had it been since the Cradle closed…?

Well, likely just some clueless newcomer Apostle unfamiliar with this world’s affairs – even Apostles dare not brazenly defy a duke’s sovereign authority.

While Apostles held esteemed status in this realm, the class system’s fortified hierarchy remained far more entrenched.

Occasional exceptions transcended class through monstrous influence, but such phenomena only applied to Paladins or exceedingly renowned top-tier Apostles.

Probably some dimensionally-displaced blockhead from a classless society running amok without basic decorum.

“Proceed as usual.”

The duke waved his hand dismissively.

The soldier’s face brightened at those customary instructions – in other words, detain him first.

Apostles fetched high ransoms – if guilded, extract fees from their organization, otherwise conscript them for military service under ‘ransom duty’ until satisfactory compensation. Even low-ranking Apostles equated elite combatants.

Major guilded Apostles proved too troublesome to apprehend recklessly, but such individuals brandished proof of allegiance much earlier.

“Kekke. Some pocket money at last. Lock him up.”

“Yes sir!”

With a avaricious, unsettling grin, the duke issued the order.

Snack time – yet his respite was again delayed when a panting butler burst into the duke’s chamber shortly after.

“Your Grace! An urgent matter! A message from the royal palace…!”

“Hm? The palace?”

The duke prompted quizzically.

“The Apostle Han Doyun shall be visiting here imminently!”

The toad-like face froze with gaping jowls.

Both duke and maid fell utterly speechless, stricken.

“…Who?”

Why would such a personage visit this place?

+++

The ducal manor buzzed with frenetic preparations to receive this untimely VIP guest, for the Apostle Han Doyun warranted state guest hospitality – a paramount Apostle amongst the highest echelons wielding nearly Paladin-tier might.

Though not yet a full Paladin, his outstanding growth potential garnered even loftier esteem.

Not even a year since his debut, yet already the Alliance’s current hottest commodity after slaying a Vanguard General.

Moreover, considering the numerous influential Paladin connections backing him, he could hardly be regarded as a mere individual Apostle – effectively a Paladin’s visit in practice.

Within the Alliance, a ‘Paladin’s’ status commanded immense clout equivalent to royalty for visiting dignitaries, second only to a nation’s sovereign ruler.

For such an esteemed guest to visit not the capital but this unremarkable frontier territory, and imminently at that!

“Ensure not a single discourtesy in receiving him!”

The manor scrambled into a frenzy of preparations.

The insolent Apostle who had defied authority vanished from the duke’s mind long ago.

Meanwhile, Doyun strode confidently along the main road towards the ducal manor.

He wished to aid the dwarven Zaccuroth’s adoptive son, that old smith – at least spare him further unjust oppression.

Hence, Doyun intended to propose relocating him to Skeletonia.

But first, he needed to exempt the old man from the forced relocation by addressing the duke directly.

Regardless of employing his craft for the Alliance’s benefit, this represented a courtesy towards his old friend’s descendant who had gifted him so meaningfully.

However, a security detail rushed towards Doyun from the direction of the manor.

“Halt!”

Bolstered by additional numbers beyond the earlier quartet at the smithy to around twelve leather-armored, properly-equipped soldiers.

Thump, thump, thump!

They deliberately stomped the ground heavily, surrounding Doyun in an intimidating stride with leveled spearpoints.

“Did you not hear me say halt?!”

“We’re arresting you on the spot! Drop your weapons and surrender peacefully!”

The soldier Doyun had previously encountered sneered arrogantly.

“By order of the duke himself, you vicious criminal scum!”

Doyun merely regarded him impassively.

“The duke’s orders, you claim.”

His words implied: ‘Can you take responsibility that this represents the duke’s true will?’

Yet the soldier apparently interpreted it as a fearful inquiry, judging by his response.

“That’s right! Hahaha! Finally grasping the situation, are we? You’ll be thrown into the underground prison!”

Having suffered grievously from Doyun’s earlier unknown technique, he bellowed swaggeringly, savoring this reversal.

Yes, this was the very taste that made soldiering worthwhile in this rotten demesne where the corrupt duke even expelled commercial assets like smiths – the sweeter for enabling such extortionate greed.

A mere bottom-rung grunt, yet one who relished licking authority’s scraps through such pitiful means.

“Don’t even dream of an easy release! We’ll make you suffer until you beg for mercy! Hahaha!”

If any ransom materialized, he fully intended to embezzle that too.

Imagining that stoic, well-featured face twisted in indignation filled him with premature glee.

But then, a voice called out from the direction of the manor:

“Make way-!”

The surrounding soldiers turned quizzically towards the commotion.

“Hm?”

“What now?”

A procession advanced along the main road.

Centered around an ornate carriage rode approximately forty escorts – attendants, knights and soldiers.

“…Esteemed guests arriving? I don’t recall any advisory.”

Upon prestigious visitors’ arrival, the manor would bustle with enhanced security protocols and soldiers striving for disciplined decorum.

Yet they had received no forewarning about today’s arrivals.

“Tch, what rotten luck. Let’s just arrest him and get this over with.”

“Pass me the cuffs.”

Until then, Doyun had remained standing impassively.

His cooperative demeanor furthered their assumption – as the duke claimed, he must be some lowly, unaffiliated mercenary Apostle without prestigious connections.

While ten soldiers maintained leveled spearpoints, the two who had taunted Doyun earlier approached with manacles – the ones he had previously subdued at the smithy.

“Foolish scum, kekke.”

The instant one reached for Doyun’s arm:

“You ingrates!!”

A booming roar echoed from behind them.

Their superior knight leading the procession’s escort.

Like scattering ants, the procession’s knights and soldiers rushed over in alarm.

Including the quartet from the smithy, those twelve soldiers could not comprehend the situation whatsoever.

“Eh? Us…?”

“Why are you…?”

Arriving before them, the knights and soldiers could scarcely believe their eyes.

The esteemed Apostle Han Doyun whom they were meant to welcome was instead surrounded at spearpoint by these imbeciles.

“Wh-, What in the…?!”

They too failed to grasp the circumstances, yet sensed some catastrophically grievous situation unfolding.

The knight’s trembling voice bellowed desperately:

“Y-, You absolute madmen! Can you not stand down?!”

“Sir?”

The knight’s face had paled completely ashen.

“How dare you level weapons at the Apostle right now!”

“S-, Sir…?”

The soldiers could only parrot ‘sir?’ dumbfoundedly.

“W-, We were simply following the duke’s orders…”

“Orders be damned, lower those spears at once!!”

“Y-, Yes s-sir!”

Their spears lowered as the knight prostrated himself groveling.

“Apostle, we have committed an inexcusable crime! Entirely my fault for failing to control these underlings… No, not my fault, but their sheer idiocy and transgression!”

With their heads spinning, the soldiers could only stammer incoherently, still utterly confounded.

“S-, Sir Knight?”

“These men are not regular troops, but mere conscripted provincial levies unaffiliated with either myself or the duke’s true intentions!”

“Sir Knight, what is the…?!”

“Punishment shall be meted within the manor’s confines, but I beg your merciful clemency!”

“Sir Knight!”

“Y-, Your Eminence the A-, Apostle Han Doyun!”

Those words finally halted the soldiers, their minds grinding to a complete standstill.

“…Sir?”

The Apostle Han Doyun? Who?

Turning a creaking gaze towards Doyun, the soldier who had tried cuffing him stared wide-eyed.

Doyun murmured lowly to him:

“You explicitly claimed the duke’s orders.”

“S-, Sir…?”

“Then I shall have words with this duke.”

At those words, the prostrated knight flinched visibly.

Shit. He intended to address the duke directly.

‘All because of these wretched scum lackwits!’

Without further comment, Doyun strode towards the welcoming carriage party, boarding wordlessly.

As the attendants closed the door behind him, the crestfallen knight reluctantly called out:

“Depart! Ensure not a single disrespect towards the Apostle’s reception!”

“Y-, Yes sir!”

Even as he bellowed, the knight could not conceal his crestfallen expression. Oh… how could he possibly explain this debacle to His Grace?

“And apprehend those fools who offended the Apostle for judgement too!”

“Y-, Yes sir!”

The carriage departed for the ducal manor.