Chapter 150

Chapter 150

Squeak-.

“I’ll wait here.”

A little deeper into the mountains.

As the door hanging alone below the cliff opened, Harques stopped.

“Alright. I’ll go alone.”

The door was far too narrow for a Titan to pass through.

It was a door just large enough for a human to pass through.

“I’ll ask about you being human later.”

“Understood.”

Thump-thump-.

Stepping inside revealed a passageway.

Though there was no light, thanks to his keen senses and the golem’s nerves, he could enter without bumping into anything. Fortunately, the passage wasn’t very long.

“Was it dark? That is because we rarely pass through doors.”

“No. It’s more than that. This place is incredible.”

Dojae was genuinely amazed by the sight unfolding before him.

Though his aesthetic sense was practically nonexistent, even Dojae was rendered speechless by the overwhelming atmosphere here.

“Huh. Humans, huh? Their sensibilities are just right. They know how to appreciate beauty, yet they don’t look too closely at the blood and tears etched into it.”

Herteias walked up to one of the decorations and tapped it lightly.

“How much gold do you think went into this statue?”

The piece he pointed to was a statue of a Class 1 monster, a Balrog.

Its size alone easily exceeded 5 meters, and if you included its fully spread wings, it was impossible to even imagine how much gold had gone into it.

“It must have taken an enormous amount of gold.”

“Wrong. Not nearly as much as you’d think.”

Herteias placed his hand on Balrok’s claw.

Moments later, molten gold flowed down his palm, glowing a deep crimson.

“See? What’s inside isn’t gold—it’s the real Balrog. That’s why we could build a golden statue the same size as the real thing. Even the dwarves couldn’t make it look as lifelike as this one here.”

“……”

“Eight hundred years ago, I visited Briasilius’s lair. His lair had quite a few decent decorations too. But foolishly, he tried to create something from nothing, so he piled up things that were both small and lacking in detail. Kuhahahaha! What good is a good memory? You need to know how to use your head.”

Herteias gazed at the Balok statue with satisfaction.

Beyond this, there were many other statues so dynamic they seemed to breathe life itself, and it was clear they were all crafted in this manner.

Of course, it wasn’t just monsters; statues of dwarves, elves, titans, and even humans stood there, each bearing vivid expressions.

Seeing this made it clear just how self-centered the dragons’ mindset truly was.

“Hey, dwarves!”

As Herteias bellowed, dwarves burst out from somewhere.

Shaggy little dwarves, reminiscent of Osun Ironhammer, gathered before Herteias, each clutching various tools.

They all knelt in unison, and one white-haired dwarf stepped forward and spoke.

“Pai’go Sandstone, eighth descendant of Torion Sandstone, greets you.”

The dwarves, visibly terrified, bowed their heads low toward Herteias.

Dojae watched the scene and felt pity for the dwarves, who had endured eight generations of slavery to the dragon.

“Has so much time already passed? Anyway, fix this properly. And hasn’t almost nothing changed in all that time! You haven’t even done half of what I told you to do before I awoke? You’re practically screaming to be exterminated!”

“We… we… we’re sorry! The Sandstone family will devote our very souls to completing this task!”

“Since my friend’s guest is here, I’ll show mercy. I’ll give you one year. Finish everything within that year. Got it? Now get the hell out of here!”

Pababat-!

The dwarves scrambled away.

Dojae wondered if Briasius had been like this too.

Judging by his usual behavior, he probably wasn’t as bad as Herteias.

He probably wouldn’t have done anything, finding even giving orders too bothersome.

“Follow me.”

After confirming the dwarves had started working, Herteias began walking somewhere.

Dojae glanced at the dwarves once before following behind them.

***

Thud-.

Thud.

Herteias stuffed various items into his backpack.

From what appeared to be a red magic stone to dried rations and extra clothing.

Finally, he tucked a short staff, about 30 centimeters long, into his coat.

“From now on, call me Heltayn.”

“Heltein?”

“Yes. Heltayn is the name I used most often during the games.”

Dojae felt like he had seen the name ‘Heltaine’ somewhere before.

Slowly, he searched his memory, trying to recall where he had seen it.

“Reflections on Mana Storage Organs and Racial Characteristics…”

“Oh? So you read that book.”

“Yes. I read it with great interest. I learned a lot from it.”

“It couldn’t have been easy to understand. The more I see, the more I like this human.”

Herteias was quite pleased.

Dojae thought he had done well to read that book and believed he had earned a higher score as a result.

That way, he could better charm this dragon and use it to his advantage.

“But why move through play? I told you I intended to confront Gelahan.”

Dojae was displeased that Herteias had chosen to pursue amusement.

The dragon’s pastime, as he’d learned through Briasilius.

It was a kind of play where a specific situation was set, and the dragon emerged into the world accordingly.

They mingle and live among all races indiscriminately—humans, elves, dwarves, and other humanoid species, as well as orcs, goblins, and other races treated as monsters.

Standing at the pinnacle of all life, possessing long lifespans and remembering everything, they enjoy these games to shake off the emptiness and boredom of their dragon state.

Much like watching a movie.

And to avoid breaking the movie’s setting, they never unleash their true dragon power within the confines of the game—not even when seriously injured, unless it’s a life-threatening crisis.

Complete immersion—no, feeling like they had become a new life form entirely—that was the game.

He didn’t know how much Herteias enjoyed the game, but since it was clear he would impose restrictions if he moved within the framework of the game, he asked.

“Did Gelahan do something wrong to me?”

“Huh?”

“I’ve been in a deep slumber for the past 500 years. Sleep is paramount to me. Did Gelahan disturb that sleep? Or did those traitorous bastards disturb my sleep? Wasn’t it you who woke me, rather?”

“I truly apologize for that. But did you not react that way, Lord Herteias, because you knew what kind of beings the renegades were?”

“I know. Even while asleep, I can sense what happens outside. But they did not disturb me. They did nothing to me, so why should I care? And even if they are divine beings, they are creatures of the Middle Realm. Since Gaia herself did not move, I saw no need to act.”

Dojae clenched his fist, trying not to show it.

He knew they were a self-righteous and selfish race, but he couldn’t believe they cared so little about anything beyond themselves.

Ultimately, it was because most dragons were like this that the Hundred Years’ War, that long conflict, erupted.

Even if the continent faced apocalyptic peril, it was ultimately just a dispute among beings of the Middle Realm.

“Understood… May I ask what form of entertainment you wish to enjoy?”

“Heltein was a formidable mage, having even served as a court mage. This time, I shall enjoy myself as Heltein, his descendant and a great mage.”

“Teleportation is a magic humans cannot use. I asked you to use teleportation…”

“You don’t know much. Humans can use it too, provided they have the precise coordinates and detailed magic circle. It’s just that the difficulty makes information on teleportation scarce. As a Grand Mage, Heltain can do it.”

It was the kind of answer that could be interpreted any way you wanted.

Anyway, since Herteias had no major requests beyond teleportation, Dojae decided to be satisfied with this.

“Thank you. I’ll be counting on you.”

Dojae pondered how he would handle this stubborn dragon going forward.

The obvious approach was to actively involve Herteias in combat, provoking his anger or making him feel his life was in danger.

Then, not wanting to die, wouldn’t he naturally exert his full strength?

“His descendant, Heltine, is a simple young man who lived deep in the mountains, studying only the research materials left behind by his ancestors. He knows little of the world. Keep it that way.”

Quite a detailed backstory.

Doja let out a deep sigh, making sure no one heard.

***

“Huff… huff…”

“Village Chief, how about resting a little before continuing?”

“No. I must go as quickly as possible.”

The gray elf, Sarieta, took Hamar’s hand—a hand twice her own size—and stood up.

Her feet and legs were swollen from walking nonstop, and sweat poured down her entire body.

Even though the antidote hadn’t fully taken effect yet, she kept moving toward some destination.

“The village is already gone… Going there won’t change anything.”

“That’s true. But we must go. This isn’t just our village’s problem. You saw on the way, didn’t you? What happened to the Kingdom of Tubalyn… Something is happening across the entire continent. To understand it, we must go to Lady Elatra.”

“…I don’t understand. But I trust the village chief and will follow her.”

“Thank you, Hamar.”

Sari and Hamar.

And the few surviving Grey Elves continued walking without pause.

At that moment.

Another group was heading from the eastern part of the continent toward the center.

“I suppose I’m worried about the village.”

“Father, this isn’t just our village’s problem!”

The twenty or so dwarves were traveling on small horses that matched their stature.

It had been three days since they left the village of ‘Herdon’.

“Osun, I think we should return to the village.”

“Father! Trust the villagers! It’s time for us to venture out into the continent. This Osun Ironhammer! I swear by the name Ironhammer that I wish to contribute to the peace of the continent!”

Osun and Puson led the group forward at the very front.

That day.

After the massive monster attack, Fuson had managed to return safely to the village.

Puson was also a strong dwarf warrior, and the village’s finest warriors, including Osun, had charged into the monster horde to rescue him.

Afterward, they drove out all the monsters with powerful weapons crafted using their outstanding skills, successfully protecting the village.

However, the only village protected was Oson’s village, ‘Herdon’.

Countless dwarf villages suffered monster invasions, and many were erased from the map.

“I understand. I hear you loud and clear, Pusson Ironhammer. I too wish to save the continent! Son! I’m sorry for being such a poor father!”

“No! Let’s hurry to Lady Elatra’s temple! There, we’ll learn what’s happening to the continent!”

Osun slapped his horse’s hindquarters hard.

The other dwarves followed suit, urging their horses to increase their speed. A group of dwarves spurred onward, accelerating their journey toward the continent’s center.