Chapter 131

Before them stood the white robed mage, his glorious golden trim caught the light and magnified it all. Like some marriage between the divine and the sun, a light that made the forges loved by the dwarves appear to be nothing more than a dying candle. The urge to kneel rose from the deepest well of their souls. It wasn't lost on any of them that he said nothing, not right away at least. 'Allowing us to take him in, and taking control of the conversation by forcing us to feel awkward… a true King immediately takes control…' Something the forgemaster recalled hearing somewhere long before, and this one took control by silence and presence alone.

When the King of Nazarick spoke, it was only gratitude that the dwarven council felt.

"Negotiate?" The eldest of their numbers asked.

"Yes." Ainz replied with magnanimous king gesture number seven, holding his hand straight out, "Trade is a field every King must cultivate. Forgive me, but it seems you have been without that field for far too long. From what I understand, listening to my mount here," he patted Hejinmal at the base of the neck, "you're in a very bad spot, on the verge of destruction unless I miss my guess."

The dwarves' faces did not darken with anger, but they did redden with shame and they looked dejectedly down at the stone beneath their feet.

'Butter them up a little, make them feel good and they will be more kindly inclined.' Ainz told himself, then said, "Simply put, I'd like to help you. The Kingdom of Nazarick has fond memories of the dwarves, though it seems to have been lost to history… we still remember that you were good partners once. Of course, I am not without needs. But what I want is something it seems you don't value much any longer. I want Runecraft."

That had the dwarves' attention, their eyes snapped up, and Ainz dismounted from the dragon.

His feet hit the ground, and in that moment to one observer, the spot his foot touched became holy.

Gondo Firebeard, like others who watched from the sidelines, heard the King's proclamation of his desire, and his heart flared up like the forge of a smith preparing a masterwork.

'Runecraft?! A mighty King wants my greatest passion!' Happiness soared like an eagle in Gondo's soul, but it was joined by absolute bitterness when he saw the confusion it spawned on the faces of the council, even the forgemaster.

'They don't value my work, our work, our heritage at all…' The despondent thought was not a stunning revelation, but never before their bewilderment had it been so blatantly said in his own head before.

'They were all polite to me, all of them, when I asked for more funding for Runecraft research, when I went on about its great advantages…'

But their polite smiles and offers of beer were just that. 'A disguise for their indifference.'

Had they appeared alarmed, or defensive, had they spoken up and said no, had they had any other reaction than confusion and bewilderment, things might have been fine.

But the last true enthusiast of Runecraft could feel only a sense of outrage at his own people, while by contrast the King in white, won over his loyalty in that single statement of desire.

A legacy of the past significance of Runecraft was that, in every city of the Dwarven Kingdom, near the center of government, one would find runesmiths. And because homes were often passed down from father to son, mother to daughter, the runesmiths continued to reside in the same places as their forefathers and foremothers. For this reason, retired runesmiths who gave up on their craft and grew dispirited, still lived in a part of town where they were present to hear the words of the dragon riding King.

And the Runecraft forging fires were lit in their hearts once again.

"Why?" A stunned face and disbelieving tone among the councilors governing the dwarves solidified the bitterness of the runesmiths.

"Because I believe it has potential." Ainz said, his voice booming out, "Because..." He paused and his mind raced for an answer, the earlier lie came to mind, and he recalled something he could use, 'perhaps the runesmiths themselves are even in the crowd,' he wondered, and reached into his dimensional storage.

The dwarves watched him reach into a black void that appeared a short distance away, and from within he drew a sword with twenty runes. Magnificent beyond measure, shining brightly as if it were drawing the soft light of glowstones to its broad face, a pommel of bright white ore, the runes stood out like jewels.

"Because long ago, you were capable of this. If you still are… or if you have forgotten your arts, I want to see them live again." Ainz' voice carried over the whole open square, and when he finished speaking, he could hear the sucking in of teeth from dozens of people.

'Twenty runes?!' A lost technique had to have done it, Gondo knew that immediately, no one had ever done so many, 'What lies behind the mask, how old is he… where could he have gotten such a thing?'

It wasn't lost on the council members either. "The power of your art is remembered in ancient Nazarick, the bond our peoples once shared when facing great terrors…" Ainz plucked half remembered phrases from his memory of various stories of lost allies finding one another, and nations that stood together against great threats, mostly Yggdrasil lore, but he held the rapt attention of his audience as he regaled them with what he 'knew'.

"...Now that we have awakened from our long slumber… it seems we were forgotten, our kingdom was gone, but now lives again. We have, in a way, returned, and wish to reforge old bonds in case the threats of old should ever reappear again. As I said once long ago, 'We must hang together, or we will hang separately'."

Ainz cleared his throat, "But this is not the place for us to negotiate… should we speak inside?" He asked.

"Y-Yes, of course." The eldest dwarf said, and the councilors stood aside, "But… what of your ah… mount. Will he be fine out here or…?" The forgemaster showed his pragmatic thinking with the question, and Ainz responded.

"He likes to read, if you lead him to a library while we settle terms of our relationship, since it may take some time, I'm sure he would be very happy." Ainz patted his mount with a gentle hand, as one would a pup, leading to bug eyed stares as he showed how tame the dragon was.

"Of course… ah… someone lead him to the library… Your Majesty… ah, join us… join us inside." The eldest of the councilors said again, and they filed toward the door, with Ainz following after them with measured, steady steps which held every eye of every dwarf present there until the doors closed and cut them off.