Stealth Kid Meets a Transcendent Being – Part 06

“Hold on. Did I just hear you say you killed the saber-toothed tiger in Garda Noruda? You, female humans?”

Hearing a voice, they turned around to see three Dwarves. Their expressions were hard, and one of them was noisily chewing on tobacco.

“No way that’s true,” the man scoffed. “You went in two or three days ago, and now you’re back claiming you killed it? Sounds like a scam.”

He raised his voice to ensure the other shoppers heard.

“Thanks for waiting, Selyse.” Gilma reappeared, holding a leather pouch. “What’s going on?”

“Hey, everyone!” the Dwarf barked. “Looks like Gittan Trading is raking it in big time. They’re just giving away money to humans for a saber-toothed tiger they didn’t even kill.”

“Excuse me!” Gilma snapped. “Selyse and her team are Rank B adventurers, known for their skill and integrity.”

“And how exactly do you know that, huh? There are no adventurers around here. We Dwarves handle our own. Now this store’s giving money to outsiders without question? What a joke!”

Gilma bristled. “They didn’t even ask for a large sum. If anything, it’s too little.”

“It’s fine,” Selyse interrupted calmly. “The tiger needed to be dealt with anyway. We would’ve done it even without the money. Keep it. You need it more, especially with Ironforge in such turmoil.”

“Absolutely not!” Gilma said firmly. “We Dwarves have a saying: ‘Blood and sweat deserve their weight in gold.’ I won’t let idle gossip cheapen your efforts. Especially from those who loiter here all day without buying anything!”

“You bitch. Is that what you really think of us paying customers?!”

“Gittan Trading has a simple policy: ‘A customer who doesn’t buy anything is like ore without metal—useless.’”

The shop erupted into cheers.

“Well said!” said one male Dwarf.
“Right on!”

Even the female customers joined in, throwing barbed remarks at the troublemakers.

“Ugh, those guys smell like booze first thing in the morning. So gross.”
“Male Dwarves who wait until sunset to drink are the ones everyone likes these days.”
“Drinking in the morning and not even bothering to wipe off their sweat. Just a bunch of lazy bones.”
“Right? Just sitting around at the camp doing nothing. Total slackers.”
“Absolutely!”

The women’s comments didn’t just target the three Dwarves who approached Selyse but also hit other male patrons. They nervously sniffed their clothes and cupped their hands over their mouths to check if their breath smelled bad.

“G-Guh… damn it!”

“J-Just you wait!”

The three Dwarves slunk out of the shop, uttering weak threats that made them look every bit as pathetic as they were.

“Who the hell would wait for you losers?! And don’t you dare show your faces here again!” Gilma shouted after them, shaking her fist. “Well, that’s that. Selyse, don’t go thinking you need to take it easy on jerks like them, all right? Here, take this.” Smiling brightly, she pushed a leather pouch into Selyse’s hands.

“Th-Thanks.”

“And don’t think for a second that all Dwarves are ungrateful, okay?”

“R-Right. Got it.”

The pouch was stuffed with gold coins, far more than expected. Even Selyse, normally composed, was taken aback by Gilma’s forceful generosity.

“Wow, it’s not every day I see you get one-upped, Selyse,” Serika said.

“Oh-ho-ho!” Gilma let out a hearty laugh, covering her mouth with one hand. “I would never one-up anyone. Now then, is there anything you two need? Pretty ladies like you must have grooming essentials, right? On that note, we have a comb that’s all the rage among the women here. Even the most stubborn Dwarven hair turns silky smooth with them!”

Her sales pitch, clearly aimed at Selyse and Serika, caught the attention of other customers, who leaned in, murmuring with curiosity.

“Sh-She’s a force of nature.”

Selyse was reminded that strength wasn’t always about brute force.

---

The tent was impossible to miss.

Not only was it enormous, but a golden sign hung from the top, with an intricately carved boar statue beneath it. Even at night, the glow from the bonfires made it shine brightly, visible from a good distance away.

“Weren’t you the one who said you’d deal with Gittan Trading?”

Inside, the tent was dimly lit and reeked of alcohol. Six thick pillars supported the massive structure, which was easily ten times larger than any other tents in the camp. There was enough space inside to hold a feast.

At the center sat a Dwarf far larger than the others, slouched in a massive chair. His incredibly large hands, scarred and calloused from years of blacksmithing, stroked his long, gray-streaked beard.

“S-Sorry, Boss!”

The three Dwarves who had caused the commotion at Gilma’s store were currently kneeling before the massive figure, looking like children being scolded by a giant.

“Gittan don’t really do business inside the country, but ever since they set up shop here in the camp, they’ve been raking in gold. Burns me beard to watch it happen right under me nose.”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

“Lord Brigid loves his pure gold machines more than anything. And for us Dwarves, knowing how to handle gold properly is crucial. Got it?!”

“Yes, sir!”

The old Dwarf’s booming voice struck like thunder, and the three instantly straightened up.

“The Golden Boar Clan is named after gold for a reason. We should be the ones earning Lord Brigid’s favor, but you three… what the hell have you been doing?”

He reached over and grabbed a golden bottle from the side table, taking a swig with a loud gulp.

“Ahh!”

The hardest of Dwarves would have flinched at the strength of the drink. Even from a fair distance, the three Dwarves could smell the potent alcohol from his breath.

“You three will be assigned to other tasks.”

“W-We can still do this, Boss!”

“Y-Yeah, what he said. Gittan Trading isn’t even that high-ranking in the Bright Rooster Clan. And since we’re outside the country, we can still push our way through.”

“Shut up!”

The elder’s shout crashed over them like a storm, freezing them in place. The old Dwarf snorted at the sight.

“Waffa is coming back,” he muttered.

“What?”
“Lady Waffa is coming back?!”
“I can’t believe it.”

The three Dwarves jumped at the mention of Waffa, but quickly sank back into place under their Boss’s glare. One of them let out a weird-sounding groan. Their legs were starting to numb after kneeling for so long.

“It’s been a year since she left home. Once Waffa and her Fringe Bell Fierce Blossoms party are back, we won’t need those human adventurers anymore. When I take control of this camp, Gittan Trading will practically fall into my hands.”

“Th-That sounds great.”
“Hell yeah! I can’t wait to boss that cocky Gilma around.”
“Ugh.”

One of the three toppled over, his legs numb from kneeling too long.

“You knuckleheads!” The old Dwarf’s roar boomed like thunder, sending the other two sprawling to the floor. “I already told you. I’m assigning you a different job. Don’t worry. It’s simple: bring furniture here from the homeland. With those stupid clans likely to keep squabbling for a while, we need to make our stay comfortable.”

“Y-You can’t be serious, Boss. Hauling furniture is grunt work. If people see us lugging around dressers, we’ll be a laughingstock.”

“You became a laughingstock the moment Gittan started mocking you.”

“Ugh.”

“Now, get moving.”

His order erupted louder than anything else he’d said. The three Dwarves tumbled out of the tent as if blown away by the sheer force of his voice and sprinted away.

“Good grief. Idiots, every last one of them. Still, they carry the blood of the Golden Boar Clan. I can’t just toss them aside. Ah, what a pity.”

The elderly Dwarf took another swig from his bottle, slammed it down onto the table, and rose to his feet. Despite the strong liquor, his steps were steady as he walked over to what could only be described as an altar.

Golden tubes stretched in rows like the pipes of an organ, linked intricately together by golden lines that wove into geometric patterns.

In front of the pipes was a chair, upon which sat a statue of a boy, crafted entirely of pure gold. Even in the dim light of the tent, the statue’s golden, captivating luster was plain to see.

“Lord Brigid, I understand. These foolish clans have twisted your words, but I alone see the truth. Their infighting is nothing but pointless squabble. By keeping our distance and staying calm, we follow your will.”

The old Dwarf let out a hearty laugh.

“Waffa’s return couldn’t be better timed. Dare I say, it’s divine providence. While those fools tear each other apart with their pointless skirmishes, the Golden Boar Clan will rise to rule Ironforge!”

The golden statue of Brigid, gazing at the jubilant old Dwarf, remained silent.