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‘It’s like a graveyard,’ Repenhardt thought to himself.

The difference was stark compared to the dwarves of the Antares Empire. This was the difference between those who were enslaved and those who were not. Repenhardt suddenly turned to Tilla and asked,

“How many people live here?”

“Including children, around sixty.”

“All of them belong to Viscount Kelberen?”

“Yes, they are slaves of the Kelberen family.”

Tilla’s expression became slightly submerged in sorrow. After a moment of silence, she smiled gently and continued,

“Are you wondering why you don’t see any men? The men are usually at the mines in the Setellad Mountains.”

An old man’s worried expression crossed her youthful face. Repenhardt turned his head away, feeling awkward. He had not considered that humans enslaving dwarves was a method that had come to mind.

To prevent any potential rebellion, humans typically took dwarven families hostage. Men were sent to mines or construction sites for months, and only those who showed loyalty to humans were occasionally sent back to their families. With their families held hostage, even if the dwarves were together, they dared not easily start a rebellion.

The unproductive children, women, and elders were gathered and managed in one place. This village was essentially their prison.

‘I’m regretting that question,’ Repenhardt shook his head and continued to walk. Tilla pointed to a cave along the commune,

“That’s the temple where Priest Gelpheid resides.”

The so-called temple was merely a cave. True to dwarven cave standards, the walls were straight, and there were rooms, but there was hardly any proper furniture. At most, there were beds, tables, and wardrobes, with only a token on the wall proving it to be a temple.

Upon entering the room, Gelpheid greeted him and offered Repenhardt a seat.

“You seem to have recovered well, savior. That’s fortunate.”

“Thanks to you, I’ve improved a lot. Thank you.”

Due to the height difference, Repenhardt, like the dwarves, found that the chairs did not match his eye level when seated. Therefore, he declined the offered chair from Gelpheid and simply chose to sit casually on the floor.

“And please, just call me Repenhardt. I find the title ‘Savior’ a bit burdensome…”

Gelpheid nodded in understanding.

“I can see why. You must be wondering why you, a human, have to be the savior of the dwarves, aren’t you?”

“No, not exactly that I don’t know, but…”

He couldn’t very well say he was trying again what he had failed at once. Repenhardt simply scratched his head without responding, as if Gelpheid had anticipated his silence.

“Honestly, we too don’t understand why you are the savior. But looking into your eyes, we can certainly tell you don’t see us as slaves…”

Gelpheid paused, stroking his beard. Repenhardt watched him silently. This elderly dwarf was trusting a prophecy, honoring a human as their savior, and openly discussing what could be considered dangerous topics.

He asked without much thought.

“You haven’t even asked who I am or what I do. It’s true that I harbor goodwill towards the dwarves, but having goodwill and saving the fate of an entire race are entirely different matters. Why do you think I would save you? Honestly, don’t you find this situation rather strange?”

It was a question that a completely unaware young man, confronted with this situation, could reasonably ask. What would this elderly dwarf, who knew nothing, respond? Repenhardt waited for Gelpheid’s answer with a bit of anticipation.

After a moment of contemplation, Gelpheid slowly began to speak.

“We do not know why Al Fort has chosen a human as the savior of our race either. But how can we possibly understand everything that the gods do? We just hold on to the hope given to us by the gods and do our best.”

Gelpheid admitted he had been surprised when he first heard the prophecy. A prophecy that a human would be the savior of the dwarves was, logically, unbelievable. If he had been human, even deep faith would not have prevented his doubts and questions.

But he was a dwarf. Dwarves, capable of hearing the voice of the earth, can instinctively distinguish between truth and lies. To them, lying is impossible. It wasn’t without reason that dwarves were known for their honesty.

In a manner that could be described as plain if spoken kindly, or simple if not, lies the society of the dwarves. Hence, even if dwarves encounter concepts they cannot comprehend, they don’t fuss over them once they recognize these as truth. They simply accept them with a thought, “Ah, I see,” and move on.

This characteristic is also why dwarves have primarily shone in practical fields. While capable of creating sturdy buildings, exceptional weapons, and intricate crafts with their amazing dexterity, they lack the ability to produce artistic structures, beautiful arms, or imaginary crafts that don’t exist in reality. To them, anything related to the arts is merely simple falsehood, nothing more. Though, given their technological prowess, humans could still marvel at the functional beauty of dwarf-made items and find them beautiful.

“The oracle was not false, nor were the words of its messenger. Thus, you must be our tribe’s savior. Of course, how you’ll save us is unknown to both you and us. But fate works in mysterious ways, doesn’t it? My duty now is simply to do my best to assist you. How fate guides you to the path of a savior is not my concern.”

Gelpheid calmly concluded his explanation. From a human perspective, this might seem like a form of defeatism, but when spoken with a dwarf’s conviction, the nuance was subtly different.

‘Always the same, dwarves, whether in the past or now,’ Repenhardt thought to himself with a chuckle. After all, if the end result was that the right person was saved, there wasn’t really a problem, was there? This mindset could make one susceptible to deceit, but that didn’t seem to apply to dwarves.

Suddenly, Gelpheid continued with a playful smile, “And if we’re to speak of oddities, you’re quite the anomaly yourself, young human. Arriving unexpectedly at a dwarf village, receiving an awkward level of hospitality, and then, upon hearing you’re a savior, you acted as though you expected as much. From an outsider’s view, your acceptance is rather baffling.”

Repenhardt felt a twinge of embarrassment as Gelpheid chuckled. Scratching his head, Repenhardt asked with curiosity, “Well, I somewhat understand. But why have you summoned me?”

If Gelpheid’s words were anything to go by, their task was completed upon saving Repenhardt. The rest was up to fate, so there seemed to be no reason to call him specifically.

“Ah, of course, according to the oracle, we’ve done all we needed. This is about a matter unrelated to the oracle. Or perhaps, upon reflection, it is related?”

“What do you mean…?”

“The high priest wishes to meet you.”

Almost involuntarily, Repenhardt almost asked, “Makelin?” He swallowed his words, pretending not to know, and asked, “You mean the High Priest?”

“The High Priest of Al Fort, Lord Makelin. He is the spiritual pillar of all the Dwarf clans.”

‘Hmm, so that gentleman was the High Priest even thirty years ago.’

Well, considering Dwarves live as long as Elves, thirty years might only feel like seven or eight years in human terms.

Suddenly, a face he longed for appeared in his mind. Makelin, who was always strict and old-fashioned, yet faithfully assisted him. Memories of him surged, and a strong desire to meet him again welled up.

“I see, I must meet him then…”

Gelpheid started examining Repenhardt curiously.

“Why do you ask?”

“Well, I did convey the story since I’ve heard it, but I thought it impossible for a human like you to understand such an abrupt story. I was deeply contemplating how to explain it. Humans can’t hear the truth like we do. Yet, you seemed to understand just by hearing the story. I knew it was true, but still, it’s fascinating to see it unfold like this.”

“Uhm…”

Repenhardt let out a soft groan and closed his mouth.

Indeed, he wanted to meet Makelin.

He was resolved to build a new Antares Empire and change the world without fail this time. However, he lacked a clear vision. Even if he regained his magic, using it to forcefully create a state for other races like in his previous life would make no difference. He would end up being called a Demon King and eventually become the enemy of the entire continent.

If he decisively crushed the continent like a true Demon King, unlike his past life, the Antares Empire might not fall so easily. If the Antares Empire could conquer the entire continent and become the sole empire, that could also be considered a success.

However, that would mean human blood would cover the continent instead of other races. There’s a big difference between defending against invaders and being the invader, and Repenhardt did not hate humanity to that extent. What he wanted was a world that treats other races as humans, not one that treats humans as non-humans.

‘Makelin is a wise Dwarf; discussing with him might reveal some solution.’

In his previous life, it was almost Makelin who had actually founded the Antares Empire. Among the various races, only the dwarves maintained a society, and it was Makelin, the High Priest of Al Fort, who spiritually led all those dwarves. The words of someone with such knowledge and wisdom were certainly worth listening to.

‘If it’s Makelin of this era, he would be at the Grand Forge, located at the northernmost part of the Setellad mountain range. It shouldn’t be too far.’

When Repenhardt readily agreed, Gelpheid also became excited. He continued in an energetic voice.

“Lord Makelin is at the Grand Forge, the grand temple of Al Fort. Of course, its location is highly confidential, known only to a very few among the dwarves. Thus, I’ll assign you a guide. He’s the only remaining warrior of our kin who can hold his own even against the average human knight.”

‘Ugh, I can’t exactly say now that I already know the location.’

Though he knew the location and didn’t need a guide, Repenhardt couldn’t think of an excuse to decline. Having a guide for visiting the dwarves wouldn’t be a loss anyway. He was also grateful for their thorough care.

Repenhardt simply accepted and expressed his gratitude honestly.

“Thank you.”

“What thanks? It’s something we’re doing for the sake of our dwarves.”

Gelpheid waved his hand in modesty. No, on second thought, it didn’t seem like modesty at all. Wasn’t it indeed for the sake of the dwarves?

As Repenhardt was smiling bitterly, Gelpheid suddenly changed his expression and grew serious.

“By the way, Savior sir.”

“Yes?”

“The truth is, I know. That you haven’t told us only the truth.”

Repenhardt stiffened his expression in a moment of realization. Upon reflection, dwarves have an instinctive ability to hear the truth.

“I’m not sure, but it seems to me that you know quite a lot about us. You even know about the High Priest, and even the location of the Grand Forge, I could hear it in your heart.”

Caught off guard, Repenhardt was momentarily flustered. Gelpheid then relaxed his expression and smiled warmly.

“However, the sound of your heart thinking about us was also true. That’s why I don’t doubt you. I understand you might be hiding something, but humans are different from us, habitually hiding the truth, so it’s not something I can’t understand.”

“Ah, yes…”

Lost for words, Repenhardt could only offer an awkward smile.