“We’re moving north from here.”
After exiting the Elven forest, Stella handed over the corpse of a Church guy and Lowell to the vampire waiting for us from the Duchy. When I asked where we were heading next, she replied like that.
By the way, handing over the Tracker’s corpse to her subordinates was supposedly to disguise him as a ‘heretic inquisitor who died during an ambush by the Duchy’s vampire while returning from a mission.’
Once everything was tidied up, they’d take Lowell and head back to the Duchy, so I could stop worrying about them and just focus on my own future.
“North from here… Bertica?”
“I’ll be moving a bit west of due north, but we’re still within the Bertica Kingdom. To be precise, we’re going right beneath the Helraig Duchy.”
“Ugh.”
The moment I heard about Helraig Duchy, my vocal cords produced a reflexive sound of dread. I distinctly remembered that those guys were like Raul’s vampire counterparts, and not good-natured beings that target the Progenitor for unpleasant reasons. So why go there?
Meanwhile, Eleonora, who didn’t know the situation, blinked at my crumpled expression with confusion.
“I’m not saying we’re going to the Helraig Duchy. I just wanted to let you know it’s in that vicinity.”
“What’s there?”
As far as I could remember, there wasn’t anything. Of course, all I had was shallow knowledge I’d picked up from books. It was obvious that Stella knew several times more than I did.
Even though this situation was sudden for me, I didn’t think Stella picked that place randomly in haste.
If that’s the case, it suggests there’s something hidden nearby Helraig Duchy that isn’t generally known.
“Yes. We’re going to Iron Grave.”
Stella calmly confirmed my words.
Iron Grave, a grave of iron? A tomb of iron?
If it meant what it sounds like, that would be quite an intuitive naming convention. However, as far as my stored knowledge goes, I had no information that could relate to this.
Blink, blink. Stella’s drooping eyelids silently waved back and forth.
“……”
Stella, there are two ways to make people angry, you know.
First, you stop talking mid-sentence, and second… So what’s Iron Grave?
But if you start talking, you have to explain to the end; Stella merely stated, “We’re going to Iron Grave,” and it seemed she was done, starting to take steps forward.
Are you trying to annoy me on purpose?
…No, think about it; this maid had been a bit troublesome since the time in the Duchy, so it might not be intentional.
I found it somewhat irritating but realized the well must be dug by the thirsty.
Being dragged away to a slaughterhouse without knowing where I was heading was not my style, so I urged Stella to explain.
Fortunately, it wasn’t because she intentionally cut off the conversation; she kindly answered my question. Although this might be an even worse offense.
“Iron Grave. It’s not wrong to say it is, indeed, an iron grave. Iron Grave is an underground city secretly built by dwarves.”
“Dwarves? Dwarves, you say?”
Dwarves. Artists of iron and fire, commonly referred to as a race of craftsmen.
However, dwarves had one distinct difference from other beings: they were the only ones permitted to live as regular citizens, rather than as slaves, in human nations.
I dredged up my buried shallow knowledge from somewhere in my mind.
Humans wanted the works of dwarves, while dwarves needed materials to create their masterpieces.
After the racial wars, most of the renowned mines on the Terra continent fell into human hands, making their mineral resources also the property of humans. No matter how skilled a dwarf was, they didn’t know how to create something out of nothing.
So, humans proposed to provide materials to dwarves who wanted to make their works, asking them to create the items they desired in exchange for the right to live without becoming slaves.
Being inherently artisans, dwarves accepted the proposal after much deliberation. Although not every dwarf was thrilled about the situation, they had no power to fight back against humans.
As a result, they were obviously recognized formally by human nations, albeit at a level slightly lower than humans.
They chose a life of artisanship, raised by humans instead of wandering the world chiseling stones and trees.
“Iron Grave is a city established by dwarves who refused to belong to human nations, seeking true freedom and creation. It wasn’t originally part of our plan to go there, but since we could leak false information about the Progenitor’s death to the Luminous Kingdom’s Palace, there’s no better place to quietly buy some time than an underground city that’s not well-known.”
“Huh, there was a place like that?”
A dwarven underground city, huh? That certainly has a romantic ring to it.
By the way, I thought dwarves were living without any real complaints since they were safe in humans’ territories, but it seemed that wasn’t entirely the case.
True freedom and creative expression, to me, it sounded like a bit too much given I was barely scraping by. But what mattered now wasn’t that.
“But if it’s a secret, how do you know about it?”
I raised a reasonable question.
Though Stella wasn’t an ordinary vampire, could it be called a secret city if even vampires knew about it?
A secret is a secret only when no one knows about it, right?
“I understand what you’re thinking, but vampires haven’t had absolutely no contact with dwarves. Didn’t the Progenitor visit the Duchy’s ranch?”
“…Wait, that was made by dwarves? Really?”
No wonder vampires were so good at architecture; turns out, it was all outsourced?
I thought it was just the difference from years of experience, but it really was crafted by true experts.
Moreover, it was dwarves, not vampires, who built the ranch for breeding humans.
Upon learning the truth, my feelings became rather mixed. I wondered how dwarves felt creating a ranch for humans.
“I met dwarves who escaped from the Greysia Empire about 120 years ago. As a reward for saving them from the Imperial Army, the Grand Duke requested some reinforcements for the underground facilities in the Duchy. The ranch existed before, but it took its current form at that time.”
And then, those dwarves who finished their commission for the Sahelrn Duchy fled to the opposite side of the Empire and created the hiding place known as Iron Grave, Stella added.
Listening until the end, it turned out Stella learned about the dwarves’ hiding place through something rather mundane.
She had shielded them to the north as a sort of final payment for a construction commission, and that simple connection allowed her to learn of the underground city where the dwarves settled. It was a pretty straightforward episode.
“Surprisingly, it seems dwarves and vampires didn’t get along too badly?”
“Relationships are always relative. In their case, they were being chased by humans, and the Duchy needed expertise, so there was an alignment of interests. Still, when speaking of the relation between the Duchy and Iron Grave, I’d say it’s not too bad.”
Well, that’s a relief.
I couldn’t shake off the memory of Stella acting haughty back in the Duchy, so perhaps that was influencing my feelings.
Logically, I knew that a vampire of her status wouldn’t come all the way here just to mess around, yet I couldn’t completely let my guard down.
That’s why first impressions are important.
If I think back, even when Stella was attending to my needs in the Duchy, she had maintained a sharp tongue and attitude but did everything perfectly. Yet perhaps due to that first impression, she stuck in my mind as someone who might slack off at work.
Still, if she’s moving with that much thought and intent, I mustn’t interfere.
I decided to leave the destination to Stella and switched my focus elsewhere.
“Eleonora, are you okay? Let me know if it’s too much.”
“Yes! I’m still okay!”
Considering how much faster we were moving now compared to when we traveled from the mountain where the slave trader was to the Elven forest, I was a bit concerned about Eleonora, but her response surprised me with an upbeat tone.
Given her routines over the past three months, she should have been in deep sleep at this hour, yet she seemed fine.
Might it be the result of consistent hard labor? She seemed significantly more physically fit than before.
Suddenly, I felt a sharp pang at the back of my head. Curious about it, I glanced back to see Stella watching me and Eleonora with a peculiar look in her eyes.
“What?”
Stella didn’t often show much expression unless she was intentionally trying to be a nuisance; yet, she looked at us like we were a curious animal. It stirred up some rebellious feelings in me, prompting me to ask gruffly.
But contrary to expectations, it seemed she wasn’t doing it on purpose; she returned her face to its usual state and shook her head.
“Nothing much. Just seems you’re opening up more to the Dragonkin Girl than I thought.”
“Well… yeah.”
I had no reason to deny it, so I confirmed her assumption, and that seemed to mark the end of her commentary. How anticlimactic.
After about an hour of travel, I suddenly felt a jolt in my back, and my limbs began to tighten.
“Plona?”
Wondering if it was my imagination, I paused and glanced sideways at Plona’s face.
No response came, and her eyes remained closed, yet I noticed a subtle trembling in her body as she stood still.
“Is something wrong… It looks like we’re almost there.”
Stella, who had stopped along with me, murmured as she glanced at Plona.
“Is she waking up now…?”
“Can’t you smell the scent of her kin? You’d know better than me, but the Progenitor should understand this more. Let’s set her down for a moment.”
Following Stella’s words, I carefully set Plona down on the ground. Once I removed the cloak I had draped over her and examined her wounds, the severe injuries were already completely healed, revealing her fair skin.
Thud—
At that moment, I was taken aback by the strong presence radiating from Plona’s heart, which beat strongly within her chest.
I wasn’t startled by the sudden surge of life force coming back to Plona.
It was the life force flowing from her heart, spreading throughout her body, which felt similar to what emanated from me.
Finally, I understood why I recognized Plona’s changes later than Stella’s.
One usually becomes dulled to their own scent. And as it turned out, Plona’s blood smell was astonishingly similar to mine. Being my own scent, I was slow to pick it up.
“Ugh.”
A thin groan escaped Plona’s lips.
Suddenly, fear washed over me. When Plona awakens, will I be able to regard her as my own?
Facing the accumulated guilt within my heart made me anxious all at once.
What if I still can’t genuinely express my gratitude for Plona’s sacrifice?
What if all I can give back remains empty?
But the sudden progression of Plona’s revival allowed me no time to prepare mentally.
As if it was her last struggle against fate, Plona’s heart throbbed roughly until it crossed a certain threshold and then rapidly began to stabilize.
At last, the eyelids that had been closed began to tremble. Finally, the girl opened her hazy eyes as if roused from slumber.
“U-un…ni?”
Plona’s gaze met mine. Her bright red eyes reflected my face.
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