We passed by dozens of ruined machines, wrecked houses, and corpses that came from both players and dwarves. It only represented the results of prolonging the war. Although the dwarven village became unknown to the soldiers, other players knew this place. Those people who wanted the weapons made by the best blacksmiths would flock into this kingdom, stealing those valuables from themselves.
I wanted to avoid Match's gaze at the dead bodies, but it was already too late. That girl wanted to join my trip, and this place was only the beginning of a catastrophe.
We had barely reached the iceberg of this cruel world, after all.
"Are there any dwarves left… alive besides you," I asked, and paused midway from my sentence.
The dwarf fell silent at first and refused to answer my question. I understood his silence and backed off my query, hoping that did not shift the atmosphere.
