He is tall, and his shoulders are broad.
Even from the outside, he appears so elegant that one might think he is a noble.
But what catches people's attention the most are his ears.
The long, pointed ears that humans cannot have revealed who they were.
"It feels as if they've recently been in a war."
"There are bloodstains everywhere, and all the soot seems recent."
"Lord Varadis. Is there really any trace of the Mother World Tree in a place like this?"
It felt like a whisper, but the pronunciation and voice were clearly audible.
The guards looked astonished to hear the elven language for the first time, but the only conversation they exchanged was a foreboding first impression of Deirmar.
"...The knight Vlad said that the memories of the Mother World Tree were brought from this city."
There were negative reports from the rangers, but Varadis decided to believe him.
Vlad clearly stated that the memory of the Mother World Tree began in a place called Deirmar in Hainal.
Others might not know it, but it was worth trusting Vlad's words, who protected the young World Tree.
"He's been waiting for a long time. The lord has just given you permission to enter."
The elven language can be heard softly to human ears.
Duncan approached the clearly visible boundary between the two worlds and opened his mouth with a smile on his face.
Though unexpected, it was clearly an important guest, so there would be no reason not to welcome him.
"Please come in. I will guide you."
Perhaps he knows?
That he was the first person in the history of the empire to open the door to the elves.
With Duncan's command, the door, which seemed in need of replacement, began to open slowly.
However, although Deirmar's door was in disrepair and creaked, its movement was quite significant.
"...It was true."
Deirmar, a city beginning to open to the elves.
The eyes of the rangers began to sparkle as they saw a city of humans for the first time in their lives.
Obviously, the human city they were seeing for the first time was full of unfamiliar aspects, but the smell of the air wafting through the city had a familiarity that somehow reminded them of Ausurin.
----?
And here is where the familiarity begins. Deirmar's white mansion.
A white serpent on a hill with its head raised above it.
The serpent, visible even from a distance, seemed to be wearing an expression of bewilderment toward the elves.
"Welcome to Deirmar. Guests, elves."
Varadis nodded slightly as he listened to Duncan.
A city where humans meet for the first time.
Though they were quite nervous due to the lack of familiarity, Deirmar was clearly welcoming them.
With a white tail moving toward the elves who recognize them.
***
In the darkness of the city, there is an old bar.
The scarred man, leaning against the shadow between the bars, nodded when he saw Vlad approaching from afar.
"Thanks for finding me. Marcus."
"I'm called Poznan now."
"Don't you get confused changing your name so many times?"
Marcus, now Poznan, simply smiled coldly at Vlad's playful rebuke.
"With this, all your cooperation back then has been rewarded."
"That's fine. I won't be condescending about what happened during Charlotte's time anymore."
Poznan simply averted his gaze from Vlad, who shrugged as if understanding.
A bold type who dared to strike a deal with the leader of a covert group.
Not even the two successors of Bayezid's blood would dare to treat each other so easily.
"Use it well and return it."
"Yes. Marcus."
Vlad placed the crow Marcus had given him in his arms and entered the bar in front of him as if nothing had happened.
It was as if he didn't care at all about what awaited him inside.
"As I heard, he really is a guy who doesn't listen."
Marcus said he was Poznan, but Vlad insisted on saying he was Marcus.
The man without a name realized he would be remembered as Marcus for a long time, as much as the stubbornness of the young knight.
"The name Marcus had a pleasant sound."
The man who shouldn't be remembered suddenly had a long cigarette in his mouth.
***
A bright golden color shone in the wine glass held by the owner.
Beer is a specialty of the West and the pride of this bar.
Vlad's tongue licked his dry lips as he looked at alcohol for the first time in his life.
The senses of a worker who worked on the smile of a rose were speaking.
This alcohol with white floating bubbles must taste incredible.
"Do you mean a dwarf?"
"Yes. A dwarf. Short and stocky guys."
Although his eyes didn't leave the beer, Vlad's open palm pointed to his waist.
The bar owner simply tilted his head as he watched Vlad's hand movements that seemed to indicate that he was of this height.
"But why dwarfs suddenly...?"
"They say they buy and sell here. Dwarfs."
In the face of Vlad's indifferent words, the air around me instantly began to calm down.
The bar owner, who seemed confused in front of me, and the employee carrying the dishes.
And even the men lying on the table as if they were drunk.
They all began to look at Vlad with eyes that were completely different from before.
"I came here knowing everything. So let's not step back too much."
However, even in a situation where everyone was staring at him, Vlad simply raised his drink in silence.
A knight of Bayezid born in the darkness of the alleys.
Vlad held a glass of beer as if nothing had happened, and his eyes contained a sticky warning that only his companions could recognize.
"From now on, I'll ask you questions, so all you have to do is answer them. I don't think it's such a difficult question."
Even the slave trader who had gone through many hardships couldn't hide his nervousness because of the energy Vlad emanated.
The smell of a big man, completely different from his younger self.
Now Vlad's existence has become such a large and expansive world that the dark alleys cannot contain him.
"I came here because I heard there were dwarfs locked up in the warehouse here."
Although Vlad had been ordered to take a vacation, he still came here to fulfill his duties.
Even though he was the knight of Bayezid, he was Joseph's knight.
Vlad, who had left and arrived at Nassau, received a small mission from his lord, who was bedridden, and came here.
"I have no idea what you're talking about... Aaaah!"
"I normally start with the fingers, but I'm a bit busy right now. So, let's start with the wrist."
A wrist flies away behind a calmly speaking voice.
The slave trader, disguised as the bar owner, screamed loudly due to the late pain, but the members of his gang couldn't easily attack Vlad.
"I want you to know that next to the hand that's left is the head. This is the way of Soara."
The blue eyes shining above the quietly smiling face are unsettling.
The slave trader, struggling to hold onto his severed wrist, only then could recognize who the man in front of him was.
"Soa, Vlad of Soara! Blue eyes!"
"...Ha. What are blue eyes, actually."
With reverence and pride in the North, but with fear in the West.
"So, dwarfs. Are they here or not?"
Vlad's name, which would surely be as different as his appearance, had different meanings and was spreading throughout the continent.
***
Why is the West Cavalry famous?
No one can deny that it was due to the excellence of their horses and riding, but the most important reason was the lightweight yet sturdy weapons they carried.
Arrows fly farther.
Shields and armor are harder.
The differences in weapons are small, but they make a significant difference on the battlefield.
All of this was extorted with the blood and sweat of the dwarves.
Therefore, just like the dwarves currently imprisoned behind bars, trade with them was actively conducted in the West.
"..."
The man behind bars had even his beard cut, the pride of the dwarves.
The exposed muscles on his skinny body looked pitiful.
The whip marks carved all over his back clearly showed how he had been treated.
Clang-
When the sound of a heavy lock came from above, the tense breathing of the trapped youths was heard.
A dark dungeon and chains tightly binding hands and feet.
And the countless abuses that occurred there were enough to break even the strong souls flowing in the blood of the dwarves.
"Let's see... Bulkaru? Volcano?"
"...It's Vulcan."
A man descended with the sound of creaking boards.
Although it was daytime, the smell of beer emanating from the young man was already strong.
The one with a bad-looking face smiling seemed to have the same yellow hair as his.
Well, since he's sniffing around slaves at such a young age, he's definitely going to rot very well.
"Mmm. Mmm. good. Vulcan. good."
"...?"
However, when the young blond in front of him approached, Vulcan could smell a hidden fish odor among the beer scent.
It was the smell of blood.
And the distinctive smell of blood that a single person cannot overcome.
"Are there really only dwarves here? I heard you're a merchant specializing in dwarves."
As expected from the information given by Marcus, the cages stacked like boxes were filled with dwarves.
The dwarves are trapped in such a small space that they can't even properly move their hands and feet.
Vlad, who checked the young dwarves he saw among them, simply silently tilted the beer glass he was holding.
"...I won't accept your proposal. If you release only the children here, I'll collaborate in weapon manufacturing..."
"I'll release them all."
It starts fresh and goes down smoothly the throat.
It was definitely a cheaper drink than whiskey, but Vlad felt he was going to fall in love with the beer, which was his first trial.
"What?"
"Instead, there's a condition, Vulcan."
Vlad brought a nearby chair closer, tossed his beer glass aside, and made eye contact with the dwarf named Vulcan.
I finally found him. Dwarf.
"I am Vlad from Soara. I am a knight who works under the orders of Joseph of Bayezid, the second son of the Bayezid family."
The sound of a beer glass falling to the ground is loud.
At the same time, in Vlad's hand was a bunch of keys covered in blood stains.
Suggestions and options.
The words Joseph ordered flowed from Vlad's mouth.
"He wants to have a relationship with the Dwarf Liberation Front."
A dungeon that seems to not even have air.
There was a letter and a raven flying through the barely open window.
"If you swear to bring the response to this letter, all the dwarves here are free."
The dwarves were trapped in a narrow cage and Joseph was trapped in a weak body since birth.
The two, who were in a pitiful state, needed a way out to the outside world in order to survive.
"And this is just one question."
The first full cup of duty was for Joseph.
And the next glass containing the sunken gold is for the voice.
Seeing Vulcan puzzled by the sudden proposal, Vlad decided to pose another question that he had been keeping inside.
"Is there any legend about the Sword Master on the island you're in?"
Vlad hadn't forgotten.
The contract at that time to find the name.
The traces of the Sword Master in the elf village clearly pointed west, where the dwarves were.
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