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When Baltar asked his question, Count Travel fell silent, gently brushing the edge of his mouth with his hand.
'It must be a difficult question to answer.'
To find out what Baron Oldman knew about the Crest Mine, Baltar had to speak with him.
Adamantite—the dream of every blacksmith, a legendary metal.
To Baltar, it was the most perfect metal imaginable.
Armor forged from it would be impervious to any attack.
Weapons crafted with it would pierce through any defense.
There was a dying statement from a dwarven elder—
that this magical ore lay buried deep within the Crest Mine, which belonged to the Travel family.
“You're planning to dig a tunnel to the mine?”
“Yeah. I’m going to mine it without the Travels noticing.”
The Travel family didn’t know the true worth of that ore.
All they cared about was money.
Baltar didn’t want to tell such merchants that Adamantite was hidden in their mine.
He wanted to mine it himself and let its value shine through his own efforts.
Though the Crest Mine, near the dwarf village, was officially owned by the Travel family, aside from occasional safety inspections, it was practically abandoned.
Whenever he had time, Baltar went there to dig tunnels into the mine.
But years passed with no results.
He was nothing more than a mole, burrowing in the dark.*
Then, one day...
“Tsk tsk. The old man lost.”
Along with the gem appraisal report came a small note.
Its wording hinted that something lay dormant within the Crest Mine.
'Baron Oldman!'
Baltar was thrilled.
The ownership of the Crest Mine had changed hands!
It no longer belonged to the Travel family!
Though he had never met this baron in person, Baltar thought—maybe this Baron could recognize the true value of Adamantite.
From that moment, the most perfect gem in the world to Baltar was a pearl from the Shushubia Archipelago.
He sent a reply, choosing the pearl, and waited desperately for Baron Oldman to contact him.
But after that, the Baron never reached out again.
“...Baron Oldman.”
Count Travel finally spoke.
It even sounded like he let out a short chuckle beforehand.
But the only people in this room were Baltar, the burly Count Travel, and the stiff-faced aide behind him.
He must have misheard
“Sorry, but we’re under contract not to disclose anything about Baron Oldman to outsiders.”
“Ah…”
Baltar let out a sigh of regret.
I see... So he's not someone you can just casually meet.
Since Count Travel had said as much, it was clear there was no point in pressing further.
Baltar had hoped to at least learn where Baron Oldman lived during this opportunity.
With a lingering sense of disappointment, he asked.
"Is Baron Oldman an important figure among humans? If you're bound by such a contract with him..."
"Important figure, you say?"
Count Travel’s lips curled upward, as if pleased by the question.
"They're important... At least, to me."
***
Calypso had gone to the blacksmith with her attendant.
Ciel was off with Madam Freya.
And I was still near the entrance of the dwarf village.
The twins had pulled me aside and taken me behind the carriage.
They were now scolding me, warning how dangerous my earlier actions had been.
"What were you thinking?! You looked the Dwarf Chief straight in the eyes and even greeted him!"
"Berry, didn’t you read that picture book?"
"What picture book?"
I blinked at Harty’s question. She tilted her head, then her expression shifted like something dawned on her.
"Ah... That’s right. You used to be a commoner."
"Tch, what's the point of talking to someone with a commoner background?"
Marty brushed off his hands and turned to walk away.
But I calmly called out to him.
"Brother Marty."
"…"
"A leader shouldn’t be less informed than their subordinates, right?"
"Ugh..."
Grumbling, Marty turned back toward me without resistance.
This little trick—calling him out like a subordinate—still worked well on the twins.
It was especially handy when I needed information.
"So? What’s this picture book about?"
"There’s a children’s section in the Travel family’s library, right? If you go there, there’s this book—"
"Yeah?"
"It’s called Little Dwarf. Don’t be shocked, okay?"
Marty spoke seriously.
Harty, now fully immersed in the conversation, swallowed nervously.
The mood felt like we were sharing ghost stories on a summer night.
I perked up my ears, giving them my full attention.
“That picture book—it’s all based on real events. It describes just how terrifying the dwarves really are.”
“Eh? How would you know that?”
“It says so right in the introduction.”
Harty answered my question. Marty chimed in again with a warning.
“That’s why you should never stare at a dwarf or talk to them. Dwarves capture kids alive and toss their bones into the forge—!”
“Yeah... I doubt that’s true.”
Any children’s book claiming to be “based on real events” usually couldn’t be trusted.
It was probably just exaggerated for entertainment.
Besides—
'People say all kinds of ridiculous things about Grandma Marshall too—like she’s a witch!'
I glared up at Marty with narrowed eyes.
“I don’t believe those kinds of stories!”
“Tch. You’re not scary, even when you look at me like that.”
“Berry, Marty’s telling the truth. We’re just worried about you, okay?”
“Aw, thanks for the concern. But still, I don’t believe it.”
“Ugh! Don’t say I didn’t warn you! Dwarves are monster-like little people who hate kids, you know!”
“Hmph.”
A deep, gruff chuckle came from beside us.
The twins and I froze, then slowly turned toward the sound.
Ssss...
“KYAAAH!”
“EEK!!”
Like bullfrogs startled into leaping, the twins took off running at full speed.
***
Thud. Thud.
Tap tap tap tap—
“…”
Baltar felt extremely awkward.
Trailing behind him with quick little steps was the youngest granddaughter of Count Travel—the one with bright green eyes like tsavorite garnet.
She kept staring straight at him.
Eventually, Baltar spoke.
“…Are you allowed to wander around alone?”
“I’m not alone! I’m with you, Chief, so it’s totally fine~!”
Her response was cheerful and bold.
Baltar figured she’d lose interest and go away if she got bored.
He continued walking toward the forge.
Under the bright blue sky, the massive orange-red cliffs surrounding the village came into view.
To Baltar, who saw them often, they were nothing new—yet still breathtaking.
Then Berry spoke up.
“Chief, that’s so pretty~! It looks like someone mixed orange paint into the soil and spread it all over!”
Her comment gave Baltar a mischievous idea.
“Pretty, huh?”
He stopped walking and turned to the girl, showing his teeth.
“That’s because we eat humans and smear their blood on it.”
“…”
“Young human blood spreads best, you know.”
Tch. That should’ve been enough to scare her off.
The Travel family always hated things like this—especially when it involved children.
Even though she was just a little human.
Since dwarves and humans had such different lifespans, Baltar couldn’t accurately guess her age.
But she looked like she’d only just stopped drooling and barely knew how to eat by herself.
“Pfft, that’s a lie.”
“It’s not a lie.”
“When blood dries, the moisture evaporates, and it turns to powder! If all that was really covered in blood, the air should be filled with blood dust particles, but the sky here is totally clear, isn’t it?”
“…Uh, wha—?”
“Those cliffs are made of iron-rich rock. When the iron is exposed to air, it oxidizes and forms rust—and that’s why they look red.”
“…”
Baltar had nothing to say.
Berry took that moment to smile brightly and introduce herself.
“You’re Grandma Marshall’s friend, right? Hello! I’m Berry! I lived with Grandma Marshall in Bonwell Village!”
“Hmph. Seems like you’ve been having fun lately. Something entertaining going on in the human village?”
“There is! We’ve got a genius chick!”
Thunk.
Baltar’s jaw nearly hit the ground.
🍓; Adamantite is a fictional metal commonly found in fantasy worlds—especially in role-playing games (like Dungeons & Dragons, World of Warcraft, or Final Fantasy) and fantasy literature.
*Means that Baltar felt small, insignificant, and possibly foolish for secretly and stubbornly digging in the Crest Mine year after year with no results.
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