Chapter 200 - Nidavellir Dwarf Liberation Front (2)

Trinova, a western city.

There was a mansion located in the city center, avoiding the desolate sands that wandered the wasteland.

It was a large and spacious mansion that was clearly visible even from a distance, but it had a dark feeling, likely not just an illusion.

"That's why I hate coming to the west. There's no decent food, nothing to drink."

"…"

"Anyway, there's no fun in this town."

The gold merchant, Barbosa, took off his boots and shook out the sand inside, muttering as he did.

It didn't match the luxuriously decorated room and was not courteous to the person sitting in front of him, but he acted comfortably as if nothing was really wrong.

"By the way, your complexion seems to have worsened a lot since the last time I saw you, Count Gaidar."

"…It's inevitable, I suppose."

Barbosa, who put his boots back on over the sand he had scattered, looked at Count Gaidar with a malicious smile.

Despite the smiling, bright face, the count's slightly tilted head seemed to convey a strange sense of pressure to anyone who looked at him.

"After all, it's not surprising you're in such bad shape, considering you lost around five thousand men."

"…"

"On top of that, you also lost Godin. I really felt sorry for that friend."

"Stop it."

A robust figure with strong eyebrows.

Although he had been beaten down by the shocking defeat, he still retained a spirit of recovery, unwilling to give up.

"It may have been a painful defeat, but I'm not someone who gives up after a single defeat. I am Sigmund Gaidar!"

"Even if you say it quietly, I understand."

However, Barbosa merely covered his ears with his fingers, as if making noise, ignoring the count's vigor.

"What brings a busy person like you all the way down here to the south?"

"I have something to take back."

"What?"

Barbosa's smiling face began to distort strangely at Count Gaidar's question.

"What? You should remember me when you see me."

"…That."

"You borrowed money. Money. Something shiny."

For a moment, Barbosa's head tilted forward and suddenly found itself under the count's chin.

He looked like a venomous snake.

"It was money you borrowed to feed, clothe, and arm five thousand soldiers. Isn't that right? Where do you think you could find that money in this miserable town?"

"I borrowed that money from Dragon Blood…!"

"To be exact, it's the money that Dragon Blood borrowed from me."

Barbosa, interrupting the count with a fierce smile, pulled a document from his pocket and tossed it to Count Gaidar.

A sheet of eerily bright red paper.

It was what was called a "final warning," the paper most feared by those who had borrowed money from the House of Dragon Blood.

"And besides, the debtor is you."

From Ravnoma to Bayezid.

For an impoverished count's family to end up as the loser in the west, they would need proper support.

However, Dragulia's support, which devoured as much as it starved, finally halted Gaidar.

"So just leave it at that."

Barbosa, lifting the red paper with a familiar gesture, held it up in front of Count Gaidar's eyes.

"I only need one city. If the calculations are approximate, is that okay?"

Though it was an absurd pressure, it was true he had borrowed something.

Count Gaidar, trembling only with his lips, dared not say anything, because the report he had received before Barbosa entered stated that a fleet had come to take over his city of Torchia.

"Isn't it wonderful to have good neighbors? If you sign here, I can take care of those in the north for you."

Is this what a sharp smile looks like?

The sinister golden teeth gleamed at the corners of Barbosa's smiling mouth.

***

Clang-

A harsh sound came from the worn door, as if the owner didn't care.

But what irritated Vlad more wasn't that sound, but the fierce glares from the sailors sitting in the bar.

Rejecting a strange being seemed to be a common practice everywhere.

"Here you go. Some brandy."

"Looks like you've come to the wrong place. We don't serve kids."

"Don't be like that. Shake it up a bit. I can pay with this."

Vlad pulled a coin from his pocket and placed it in front of the owner with a loud clink.

The rusty, unsightly coin looked like something you wouldn't want to keep even if it was given to you for free, but when the owner saw the coin, a strange look appeared in his eyes.

"…Where are you from?"

"The North."

"North? Which part of the North?"

Vlad chuckled and responded to the owner's superficial attempts to probe him.

"I've got nothing to say to a Nasau farmer."

"…The customer's arrived."

Equals recognize each other.

Though Vlad seemed young, the bar owner accepted the coin on the table.

"It might take some time."

"It better be quick."

When Vlad saw the owner take off his apron and try to leave, he pointed behind him with his thumb and said,

"I hate people staring at my back."

"Be careful then."

Vlad took the drink offered by the owner and looked back.

Men with their hands in their pockets, hidden under their clothes.

Though they looked ready to draw a knife at any moment, Vlad smiled at them and offered the glass.

"Strangely, I feel at home."

Though he had ordered brandy, what he got was a cheap mix of rum and some unknown liquid.

However, Vlad, used to the harshness of the drink, didn't seem to mind, took a sip, and frowned.

"This time, it's the sea."

Vlad, who had all the time to himself in the quiet bar with no owner or customers, pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and looked at it.

The image was crudely drawn, as if by a child, and on it was a single striking golden light.

***

"What's this?"

"A revelation."

One night after leaving Sturma, Baradis approached the campfire they had set up for the night.

"The priestess gave this to me. In fact, I came all this way mainly to deliver it to you."

Baradis, who had ventured into the outside world in search of traces of the World Mother Tree, joined the group heading to the island of the dwarves.

The west, where the group was headed, was once home to the World Mother Tree, and Joseph, in his search for opportunities, had no reason to turn down the elves.

"I see. Thank you."

Though he said thanks, Vlad's hand showed some hesitation as he reached for the drawing.

"...It seems her drawing skills haven't improved."

"Consistency is part of her charm."

A revelation given to the knight who saved the World Tree by the priestess of the elves. 

However, despite the grand reason, the drawing in his hand looked like a child's work, with crooked and rough lines.

"What is this? Why is everything around it so dark?"

"It's the sea."

"Then what's this floating here? A log?"

"It's a ship."

"…"

It was so terrible that even asking about it was embarrassing, but there was a light in the drawing that seemed vaguely recognizable.

A point of light shone on the brown mass the priestess called a ship. Although it didn't have a human shape, the light was unmistakably familiar to Vlad.

"Could this be me?"

"As expected, you recognize it at a glance."

Baradis, a bit excited that Vlad recognized the drawing made by his younger sister, smiled and nodded.

"A knight lighting a beacon on a drifting ship in the sea..."

Nibelun, who had silently approached, murmured as he looked at the drawing.

Judging by his bright eyes, it seemed the revelation delivered by the priestess had sparked great interest in him.

"I've never seen such a clear revelation before. Whoever the prophet is, their level is extremely high."

"Clear? This?"

Without permission, Nibelun had already taken a magnifying glass from his backpack and was examining the drawing with admiration. The careful way he handled the drawing, as if it were a masterpiece, made Vlad click his tongue.

"…Being able to pinpoint gaps in time so clearly. Someday, I really want to visit the forest of the elves."

"With Lord Vlad."

"I really want to go. Let's go together. Please."

When Baradis said Vlad had to come along, Nibelun clasped his hands as if begging.

The pupils, characteristic of the beast people, gradually became wider and rounder, but Vlad wasn't really looking at Nibelun.

"This time, I'm lucky."

"What?"

A light flickering precariously over the dark sea.

Vlad rummaged through the crackling fire, looking at the color that clearly depicted him.

"Because the revelation points to me."

In the city of Moshiam, there was a canary that sacrificed itself for me. 

She was the bird that illuminated the darkness, guiding me on the right path.

Having buried the pain of Justia's death in his heart, Vlad felt relieved that this time, the curse was directed only at him.

***

"Here is the map."

"…"

"And this too."

The port of Nassau at sunset.

The western sea, much warmer than when we left Sturma a month ago, was starting to spread out.

"What is this?"

The secret contact the bar owner had provided looked like a common dockworker.

He, who had been carrying loads as long as his weathered face suggested, now stood in front of Vlad, patting his hunched back.

"It's a seashell. Isn't it big?"

"What is a seashell?"

"…Ah, that's right, you said you came from the north."

It was a strangely curved object.

Vlad's expression wrinkled at the sight of the shell, hard to believe it was once a living thing.

"In any case, use it as a horn. You know what a horn is, right?"

"Then will they come?"

In response to Vlad's question, the old dockworker only shrugged.

"I don't know."

"…"

"The only sure thing is that the place marked on the map is shrouded in fog, a place even experienced captains avoid. So I can't guarantee you a ship."

What he had in his hands was a rudimentary map and the remains of an ancient shell.

But these were the only clues to reach the island of the dwarves, so Vlad had no choice but to nod.

"The ship is fine. We've already secured one."

"That's a relief."

Realizing the meeting was over, the old man lifted the flag staff he carried with great difficulty and bowed his head.

Until a moment ago, he had been the secret contact, but now he looked like a simple dockworker.

Nassau, a land of Bayezid, but still with western customs.

Helping the dwarves here was something that had to be kept secret.

"Then, let's not meet again."

"Here you go."

It was Vlad who tossed a gold coin to the old man for his hard work, but he simply shook his head and quietly handed it back.

"I've already been paid by the dwarves."

"…"

Vlad scratched his cheek as he watched the old man leave with difficulty, carrying his sack.

Though he seemed an insignificant old man, he appeared to have something that couldn't be replaced by gold coins.

"So the other ships don't want to go..."

After the old man left, Vlad walked toward the dock, alone in the port.

Now, the western sea where you could even feel the scent of spring.

In the deepening twilight, Vlad took out the drawing the priestess had given him upon seeing a familiar shadow.

"Seeing it like this, it looks similar."

At first glance, it only seemed like a brown mass, but upon comparison, there was a certain resemblance.

A small body with a tall mast.

And a white triangular sail fluttering at the top.

A small ship entering Nassau's port with the sunset.

Recognizing the familiar ship that had set off from Soara, Vlad raised his hand and waved it high.

"I'm here, Harven!"

Liberation Front of Dwarves Nidavellir.

The ship that would take the group there was the red-haired Zemina, captained by Harven.

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