Chapter 52
Olaf sat on an old wooden barrel.
His arms were crossed.
He looked up at me with a crooked expression.
“So...”
Then...
“You want me to build a forge?”
I shook my head.
“Not exactly.”
Then...
“If you want to play with those steel balls, you’ll need a forge anyway.”
Olaf snorted.
He twisted one of his braided beard strands around his finger.
He was definitely interested in the apartment I wanted to build.
But...
That didn’t mean he was willing to obediently follow my orders.
Is this some kind of battle between craftsmen?
Back when I worked as a chef...
This kind of struggle for authority was common among people who held knives.
Establishing the hierarchy early made everything easier later.
Olaf raised his chin.
“Easy for you to say.”
Then...
“Well, I suppose that’s what happens when someone knows absolutely nothing about metal.”
He gave me an arrogant look.
“Listen carefully.”
Then pointed toward the cave.
“Those steel balls produced by the Pink Fairies are one hundred percent pure steel.”
His expression became serious.
“Not a single impurity.”
Then...
“Throw them into some crude furnace and they won’t melt.”
He scoffed.
“They won’t even become warm.”
I rubbed my chin.
“Hm...”
Olaf immediately shouted,
“What do you mean, ‘hm’?”
Then...
“To heat that steel until it becomes soft enough to shape...”
He raised one finger.
“You need temperatures comparable to an Imperial furnace.”
He slapped his knee.
“Extreme heat!”
I opened my mouth.
“For extreme heat...”
Olaf raised a hand.
“Quiet! I’m not finished!”
Then continued.
“To create that level of heat, you need mountains of high-grade coal.”
Then...
“And a furnace capable of trapping that heat.”
He held up another finger.
“And if you don’t want the furnace itself to melt...”
Then...
“You need the finest volcanic ash clay and proper refractory bricks!”
Olaf spread his arms.
“And there is no way a miserable village like this has materials like that!”
Well...
His assessment was accurate.
The land surrounding the Northern Rock Tribe contained little besides gray rock and dirt.
Unfortunately for the arrogant dwarf...
He knew one thing.
And missed another.
I nodded.
“You’re right.”
Olaf smirked.
I continued.
“We don’t have volcanic ash clay.”
Then...
“And we don’t have high-grade coal.”
His grin widened.
I smiled.
“But we have this.”
Olaf frowned.
“What?”
Then snapped,
“Burning wood won’t be enough!”
“Just follow me.”
I took the grumbling dwarf toward my fields outside the main village area.
Olaf looked around.
“What is this?”
Then...
“Are you showing off your potatoes?”
I pointed toward one corner.
“Look at that.”
A red stone lay buried carefully in the field.
The Primordial Dragonblood Stone we had obtained from the Volcano Tribe.
And around it...
Smaller Dragonblood Stones had grown like offspring.
Olaf narrowed his eyes.
“That’s the same red stone you used to calm the Pink Fairies in the cave.”
Then...
“It only gives off enough heat to warm your hands.”
He scoffed.
“You plan to melt steel with that?”
“One stone is only warm.”
I crouched.
Then...
“But watch carefully.”
I dug up two Dragonblood Stones.
Then slowly moved them closer together.
The moment they came within a handspan...
Hummmm...!
The stones began vibrating.
Their red surfaces flashed.
Then...
Their temperature rose rapidly.
WHOOOSH!
I quickly dropped them before my hands melted.
Then looked toward Olaf.
“When two Dragonblood Stones approach each other...”
Then...
“They produce enough heat to melt steel.”
Olaf’s mouth fell open.
“W-What is this...?!”
He grabbed his head.
“Is this the Divine Furnace mentioned in ancient texts?!”
Then...
“A heat source capable of melting steel without fuel?!”
He began jumping around.
A permanent furnace capable of creating thousands of degrees without coal.
Of course a blacksmith would lose his mind over that.
Olaf suddenly froze.
Then narrowed his eyes.
“...F-Fine.”
He coughed.
“Let’s pretend fire isn’t a problem.”
Then...
“What about the furnace?”
He pointed toward the stones.
“How will you build something capable of surviving that heat?”
I tilted my head.
“You said we need volcanic ash clay?”
Olaf raised his chin.
“Hmph.”
Then...
“At minimum.”
He clearly expected me to struggle against that practical problem.
I answered immediately.
“I’ll get some.”
Olaf blinked.
“You’ll get some?”
Then...
“From where?”
I scratched my cheek.
“Well...”
Then...
“I know someone in a volcanic region.”
Olaf’s eyes widened.
“A volcanic region?”
Then...
“Someone you know?”
I smiled.
Then waved toward Zakan.
“Zakan.”
He looked toward me.
“Prepare for a trip.”
The next day.
Western Volcano Tribe territory.
The moment we entered the village...
A red-skinned giant over two meters tall opened both arms.
Then laughed loudly.
“HAHAHAHAHA!”
Burta strode toward us.
“My brothers, Zakan and Izak!”
He slapped both our shoulders.
“When I heard you were coming, I was so happy I couldn’t sleep!”
Then...
“Welcome!”
Zakan grabbed Burta’s forearm in greeting.
His voice remained flat.
“Burta.”
Then...
“Have you been well?”
He got straight to the point.
“We came to obtain materials your western tribe has.”
Burta laughed.
“Materials?”
Then...
“What nonsense between brothers!”
He pounded his chest.
“If you want something, I’ll give it to you!”
Then...
“Tell me. What do you need?”
I smiled.
Then answered for Zakan.
“Volcanic ash clay.”
Burta blinked.
“...What?”
I repeated,
“The soil from your mountain.”
Burta stared.
“Soil?”
Then...
“Not meat?”
Another blink.
“Not weapons?”
Then...
“Soil?”
He looked genuinely confused.
“You really are strange people.”
Burta shook his head.
“You always exceed my expectations.”
He gestured around.
“Does the Rock Tribe not have dirt? Dirt is everywhere in the Frontier.”
“We specifically need the soil from the Western Volcano Tribe.”
Burta shrugged.
“Fine.”
Then...
“I don’t know what you’re planning, but take as much as you want.”
At Burta’s command...
Volcano Tribe warriors began moving immediately.
They filled large hides with volcanic ash clay.
Meanwhile...
We entered Burta’s tent.
After drinking some cool water...
Burta’s expression became serious.
He looked at us.
“...Zakan. Izak.”
Then...
“You should be careful for a while.”
His tone changed completely.
“Pay attention even on your way home.”
Zakan frowned.
“Has something happened?”
Then...
“Did another Varg appear?”
Burta shook his head.
“Did you repair the Rock Tribe’s wall?”
Zakan nodded.
Burta continued,
“Strengthen the village defenses even more for now.”
Zakan put down his cup.
“Explain clearly.”
Burta’s voice lowered.
“Something more troublesome and dangerous than monsters has appeared.”
Then...
“Exiles.”
Zakan and I spoke at the same time.
“Exiles?”
The Northern Frontier was lawless land.
Those expelled from tribes for committing crimes or violating tribal rules wandered through it.
Usually...
They died alone.
Either monsters killed them...
Or starvation did.
Burta spoke.
“Recently, our scouts spotted wandering outlaws moving together.”
Then...
“They are gathering like starving wild dogs.”
Zakan frowned.
“The exiles have formed a group?”
Burta nodded.
“Apparently a rumor is spreading.”
Then...
“There is a rich barbarian village somewhere in the Frontier.”
My expression slowly changed.
Burta continued.
“A village overflowing with food.”
Then...
“A place where delicious smells fill the air even before you approach it.”
A rich barbarian village overflowing with food?
With delicious smells?
That sounds suspiciously familiar.
Burta looked directly at me.
“Izak.”
Then...
“I believe they are targeting the fields blessed by your Ancestor Spirit.”
