Chapter 133

Ainz followed behind the dwarves into their council chamber using the same measured and artful steps he observed Queen Draudillon using when she walked from place to place. Stately and more sure on the outside than on the inside, his rich robes hid the faint tremble of his own anxiety, his mask held back the bated breath from observation. Only the flowing white enchanted garment hid the fact that he broke out into a cold sweat when he thought of the presentation he was about to give.

The dwarves were a burly lot, rather hasty in their movement, their stumpy legs carried them over the smooth floor of the inner chamber with the same speed that little bugs could use to scramble away from a hand about to swat them or a foot about to unthinkingly crush them.

They got into their seats arrayed in a long line at a table where they seemed to work in common. This too was stone seemingly carved out of the mountain itself rather than made elsewhere and carried within. On either side of Ainz sat a number of chairs, but no other desks, presumably for hearing the complaints and entreaties of their population.

Ainz took the initiative, speaking first as he approached, he loomed over them like a giant, and the glowstones on the wall radiated off of the white and gold garment which only added to his almost divine and majestic aura. "As I said, the Kingdom of Nazarick has come to negotiate, you know my desire, trade. I will bring you what you can't produce, and you will provide me with runecraft weapons and armor. If your runesmiths will come to my kingdom, then my prosperity and protection will come to yours."

That caused the councilors to shift with discomfort in their seats, they traded wary looks, but looked up at the masked face.

"Mighty Lord… you could just buy the runecraft weapons from us… why would you want our actual runesmiths to join you in your homeland?" The forgemaster's fingers twitched a little, scraping over the table, and Ainz' estimation of that one went up a notch.

"Because I want a monopoly on runecraft, I want to use it as the foundation for equipping my adventurers at the cost of the state. It may even be used for broader military applications. Therefore it must be produced inside my kingdom."

That led to a moment of silence.

"Forgive me, but… I have to say, you're in a very grim position right now, is it really the time to haggle? I have no intention of kidnapping, harming, or otherwise enslaving or abusing your kindred. I will add as a provision that you may send inspectors and observers to where the dwarves will live and work. That is fair, isn't it?" Ainz asked, holding out his upturned hand and giving a half bow with his other hand on his chest.

"But runecraft hasn't had value in a very long time…" The oldest of dwarves groused, "Forgive me, but this all seems strange."

"You know its advantages, the complete lack of cost other than time, and the ability to lay multiple enchantments on a single object… how could I, a head of state, not see the value in something like that? Plus, you saw the blade from before. Your ancient arts have far more potential than you remember." Ainz promised.

The shifting in their seats, the sound of rubbing leather and fabric was the only one they made for a few seconds as their discomfort collectively grew.

Ainz hammered home the point, "Your numbers dwindle, you are threatened by the quagoa, and even in good times, the mountain couldn't feed very many of you. I offer you safety, I offer you trade in food and resources, and what I want from you in return, ancient friends…" His extended hand closed into a fist and his index finger uncurled so that it pointed at them, "is for you to bloom again."

It was an electric phrase which froze them in their seats as he assailed their pride with the promise of untapped potential, security, their greed with the possibility of prosperity again, and attacked their fear of extermination with the promise of military security against their enemy.

But the dwarves were a stubborn race, and though they felt the call to offer themselves down to the very core of their spirits, the way Ainz spoke laid bare one more question.

"Majesty…" the head of the effectively defunct commerce department spoke, "How 'old' are you exactly?"

Ainz sighed to cover his panic in that question, his heart raced as he struggled to find something that would cause no controversy and which couldn't be fact checked later to falsify his claim of old origins.

His hand fell away, and he hung his head, "All that I have known, the greatest of heroes and friends, are gone. The stars in the sky I saw the night of my awakening, they too were unknown to me. Everything around me is unfamiliar now, and… you could say that I am from a lost world… I don't even know the full answer to your question… though it weighs heavy on my heart."

'Was that too melodramatic? It's all sort of true… kind of… if you squint and look at it just the right way… I mean I don't exactly have a calendar so I don't even know if my birthday will have come and gone by now…' Ainz put his hand over his mask when he instinctively facepalmed, 'If Pandora's Actor ever saw me pull that… good 'god' no… don't tell me he gets all his behavior from 'me'!'

Then Ainz caught himself, 'facepalming' may or may not have been a thing done there, but now he had to cover for it, 'Sloppy, Ainz. Very sloppy.' He thought and said, "If I want you to trust me, I should show you my face. This body… it isn't the one I began with, it is one of many I've inhabited, and it will be with me for some time." He said, and the dwarf council members leaned forward, their own bodies shaking with anticipation.

'All that is true too… if you count other game avatars I've used, plus the one I was born with, and the skeletal body I had and then lost, and now this one… sure, the most believable lies are true.' Ainz reassured himself and removed his mask.

The dwarves sucked in their teeth in relief. A low chuckle came up from them. "Majesty, forgive us, but the way you spoke we were half afraid you were undead, who knows how that might have gone…" Their eldest said and turned to their military commander.

"We can hammer out the details later, but for now if we want your help… and… can you really help?" The dwarves all stiffened.

"Easily. If the quagoa have not been strong enough to defeat you by now, they're no threat to me." Ainz replied offhandedly while replacing his mask and hiding the flesh and blood face again.

"Then tell him." The old dwarf said with finality, and slumped back in his chair.

The commanding General answered immediately, "We're less than two years from extinction. The population doesn't know it, but we don't have long, our outlying settlements were left to their local defenders. We can't hold any more people, we can barely feed the ones we have. If the bridge over the Great Rift falls then our city will have only one door between us and dying out. In the event of a siege we can survive for a year or two if everything goes perfectly well. If it doesn't, we might not last more than a few months."

"I see." Ainz replied and put his hands on his hips, "Then let me make this offer. Become my vassals, swear loyalty to Nazarick, give me the runesmiths, and I will let no more of you die by quagoan claws."

"Become my forge, and I will be your shield and sword." Ainz promised, "As it was, it will be again, and no dwarf will live in fear anymore."

'Oh god, he 'does' get it from me!' Ainz realized with horror as he pictured Pandora's Actor saying exactly the same thing, in exactly the same way.