Arthur Unknowingly Riles Them Up

The next morning, Arthur, accompanied by Gawain, returned to the mine where the Dwarves were working—and wore a puzzled expression.

“You guys aren’t working? I’ll heal you if you’re tired.”

“We know… but even if we do our best, all the jewels and accessories we make just end up in his hands. It sucks the motivation right out of you.”

“Damn it, why do we have to bend over for that bastard?”

The Dwarves’ morale had hit rock bottom. Among them, Lord Glutton had a notorious reputation for throwing money around without even appreciating the beauty of what he bought.

Now that they knew all of their goods would go to a guy like that, how could they possibly feel motivated? Still, they kept working in the mine—driven by their desire to save Prim.

An ordinary person might’ve understood that just by hearing yesterday’s events, but of course, Arthur had no grasp of a craftsman’s delicate emotional landscape.

“What’s up with them?”

“It can’t be helped,” Gawain replied. “For Dwarves, having their creations bring someone joy—or seeing them worn by someone who suits them—is their purpose in life. Even if they complete the Orichalcum, if everything they make from now on ends up with Lord Glutton, it’s no wonder they’re disheartened.”

“Hmmm… so they’re angry, right?”

“Well, it’s legal, sure, but it’s basically a scam. I’d say they’re furious.”

As Gawain explained, having sobered up from the previous night, Arthur let out a discontented groan. Then the white-haired Dwarf—Gazeff—glared at him.

“What, kid? Even now, you expect us to work ourselves to death?”

“No, I just heard Dwarves are scary when they get mad, but you’re not so bad. I kinda thought if you were really angry, you’d be off murdering Lord Glutton by now, but instead you’re just sulking. Honestly, I’m a bit surprised—kinda relieved too.”

““Wha…!?””

Gasps echoed from the Dwarves—and Gawain as well. And rightfully so. Killing a noble, even in times of unrest, was considered a serious crime punishable by death.

But Arthur’s words sounded like: Aren’t you guys supposed to be the kind to kill a noble when angry? I expected that much from you, but you’re just moping? That’s disappointing.

Of course, Arthur didn’t mean to provoke them. He simply remembered how terrifying the Dwarves had been during the revolution in his previous life, and spoke his thoughts out loud. In truth, he was actually relieved they weren’t going on a rampage.

But the Dwarves… after a moment of dumbfounded silence, erupted in laughter loud enough to shake the tunnels.

“Well said, kid!! You’re damn right!! Why the hell should we hand everything we make to that bastard noble!? It’s insane!! Let’s go kill the bastard!!”

“Idiot! That’d cause trouble for Lord Edward and Lady Prim!!”

“Then what do we do!? Just keep licking Lord Glutton’s boots!?”

“No way!! That guy’s money isn’t infinite, right? So we’ll just flood the market—get the Orichalcum fast, sell off every bit of ore we can find, and bankrupt the bastard!! Hey kid, we’ll owe you big—start healing the tired ones!! We’re digging up everything!!”

“That’s it!! Let’s goooo!!!”

““““WOOOOOOOHHHH!!!””””

Roused by Arthur’s words, the Dwarves were fired up. Their rallying cries echoed through the mines. Gawain, astonished, muttered in awe.

“To think he could motivate the Dwarves like this… So this is his… power…?”

“Thanks, kid… no, Richard. You reminded us what it means to live like Dwarves. Somewhere along the way, we got soft. But we’re gonna show you what we’re made of!! Keep the healing coming!!”

“A-ah… yeah…”

As Gazeff smiled warmly, like greeting an old friend, Arthur—the man at the center of it all—was thinking:

Huh? What’s gotten into these guys all of a sudden? Scary!!

He couldn’t help but recall how the Dwarves had stormed him in the previous life—and felt a little spooked.