Trial of Illusions – Part 01

The nation of Ironforge was nestled in a mountainous region. The barren slopes, covered with little more than shrubs and patches of grass, made the area unsuitable for timber. Wood had to be painstakingly transported from the foot of the mountains, near the campsite where Hikaru and his companions were staying, or from the forest of Garda Noruda.

For that reason, most Dwarven homes were built from stone. The mountains held an abundance of stone and ore. For Dwarves who lived and died by the forge, Ironforge was nothing short of a holy land.

“Ha-ha-ha! To think the Progenitor’s Shield would resurface now. We’re truly blessed!”

The Dwarf who laughed was unusually fat for his kind. While Dwarves were generally built like beer barrels, this one had visibly more fat than usual.

His attire was an explosion of bold colors, with tiny pieces of gold sewn in, flashy to the extreme. His fingers, adorned with several gold rings, looked far too soft to have ever gripped a hammer, much less forged steel.

“Are you sure about this? Those brothers are your cousins, aren’t they?” asked a different Dwarf awkwardly. His rugged appearance marked him as a blacksmith.

The room, lavishly built with beautiful stone, had its floors, pillars, and ceiling polished to a gleaming shine. The fat Dwarf’s gaudiness looked appropriate for such a place, while the blacksmith was a misfit amid such opulence.

“Of course I’m sure. I’m the head of the Red Rat Clan!”

“Temporarily, I hear.”

“The clan chief is gravely ill and won’t live much longer. Once he’s gone, I will officially take over. The council has already decided.”

“Right. But ordering the arrest of the adventurer who returned the Progenitor’s Shield seems excessive, no?”

“Excessive? A filthy human stole our sacred treasure, and you dare call this excessive?”

“No, no. I just meant we should confirm the facts. The shield’s authenticity is not certain, and we still don’t know how it disappeared in the first place.”

“The shield is genuine. And even if it isn’t, that’s irrelevant.”

“What?”

“What matters is that the Progenitor’s Shield is now in the hands of the Red Rat Clan. Don’t you get it? This gives us a decisive advantage over the other clans. Once I present it to Lord Brigid, his favor will be mine, exclusively. Heh heh heh.”

The blacksmith frowned but said nothing.

“You seem unhappy.”

“N-No, not at all.”

“Good. Those meddlesome humans must be silenced. Is that clear?”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

“Or are you saying you won’t follow orders?”

“I-I’m not saying that.”

“Then get moving! I have to prepare for my audience with Lord Brigid.”

“Yes, sir!”

The blacksmith turned sharply and lumbered away.

“Clueless fools,” the fat Dwarf muttered under his breath. “Not just him, but the current clan chief, too. It’s obvious what must be done if you consider Lord Brigid’s divine revelation. No matter. I’m the head now. Heh heh heh.”

The fat Dwarf skipped in a way that belied his massive frame, moving over to the window. Through the crystal-clear glass, he gazed at the tallest mountain and the anvil that served as the symbol of this country.

Beside the anvil, a plume of smoke spiraled into the sky. Every Dwarf knew that the flames belching it out had been burning since long before the founding of Ironforge. It was the very first thing taught to children once they learned to speak.

That smoke came from the Progenitor’s Forge. Owned by Lord Brigid, it could melt any mineral and refine any metal.

The sunlight streaming into the room illuminated the shield resting on the table.

The shield’s rugged design looked completely out of place in this room.

---

The morning camp was fraught with tension. Guards had the black-haired boy adventurer surrounded.

Hikaru’s mind raced. So, that’s how it is.

This was the result of the Dodorono brothers bringing back the Progenitor’s Shield.

The brothers didn’t get credit for finding the shield. Knowing Dodorono’s honest nature, he must have admitted that he had obtained the artifact from a human adventurer and revealed that they traveled together up to the camp. This then led to the pompous Dwarf’s condescending behavior and the move to arrest Hikaru.

“Where are Dodorono and his brother?” Hikaru asked.

The pompous Dwarf sniffed audibly. “Ah, those treasure-stealing fools? Naturally, they’ve been arrested and thrown into prison.”

“I see,” Hikaru muttered. Pieces of the puzzle clicked into place.

In essence, the Dodorono brothers’ efforts had been stolen.

Ah, this is bad.

Hikaru felt a dark emotion bubbling up from the depths of his being. He was already simmering after the Dwarf girl attacked him out of nowhere, and this betrayal only stoked his fury.

The Dodorono brothers, eccentric Dwarves who loved fashion, had left their homeland, feeling like misfits. But despite that alienation, they’d chosen to bring the Progenitor’s Shield back to their people, enduring a long journey to do so.

And this was how their homeland repaid them. Not being angry was simply impossible.

Should I sneak into the city and take back the shield? No, why stop there? Maybe I should just rob them of every treasure they’ve got.

Dark emotions bred dark ideas. The thought wasn’t entirely absurd either. Hikaru was certain he could do it. It wouldn’t even be that difficult.

“What exactly do you see, huh?!” barked the pompous Dwarf. “Drop your weapons and put your hands on the ground. Refuse, and you’ll find your blood rusting on the tips of my men’s spears!”

The Dwarf raised his right hand, and the soldiers tightened their grips on their weapons.

Hikaru sighed. “Fine, then.”

His hand dipped toward the pouch on his waist. It contained smoke bombs. If he could blind them for just a moment, they were done. They dared to treat him like this before breakfast? They should prepare to lose an arm or two, at the very least.

“Wait! Stop this, please!” a voice cried. It was uncharacteristically urgent, not the gentle tone he’d come to expect.

“Sophie?” Hikaru turned.

It was Sophie of the Four Eastern Stars, clad in her cleric’s robe. She wasn’t exactly fast. In fact, she was jogging over at a pace slower than a Dwarf’s shuffle. And she was well-endowed. Despite the voluminous fabric of her robe, her ample chest bounced noticeably.

For a moment, the Dwarves stood transfixed, captivated by the spectacle.

“Huh? A-A human cleric?” the pompous Dwarf sputtered, snapping out of it. “It’s dangerous here. Step back at once!”

Sophie, panting lightly, ignored his command. “Please, stop this. Lower your weapons,” she pleaded.

“That’s not possible.”

“I’m asking you to reconsider,” Sophie insisted. “Please, lower your weapons.”

Her gaze was fixed on Hikaru. To others, it seemed like she was asking the soldiers to lower their weapons, but Hikaru felt her plea was directed at him. And indeed, the moment he let go of the pouch, Sophie looked visibly relieved.

“My name is Sophie Bloomfield, a nun of the Holy City Church. It seems there’s been a misunderstanding.”

Hikaru already knew of Sophie’s affiliation with the Holy City’s Church. After her contributions in the great pit, the Pope himself, Luvain, had reassigned her. When she produced her soul card and presented it to the pompous Dwarf, his expression tensed, an indication that the Church’s influence reached even Ironforge.

“From the Holy City itself, huh?” he muttered. “But that doesn’t change the fact that this man is under suspicion of stealing one of our treasures.”

“What?”

Sophie turned to Hikaru, her expression asking a silent question: why would you do such a thing?

I didn’t do anything, Hikaru thought. Why would you even immediately assume I did something?

“H-He would never do such a thing,” Sophie said.

Why the hesitation?

“Of course, you’d say that,” the Dwarf scoffed. “You’re human. You wouldn’t understand the nuances of our nation. Regardless, we’ll detain him and investigate further.”

“But—”

“Like hell you will!” a loud voice interrupted.

The Dwarf girl Hikaru had knocked out earlier was back on her feet.

“What the hell was that, huh? Using some weird magic? Humans are so fucking underhanded!”

“And who might you be?” the pompous Dwarf asked with a frown.

“I’m Waffa, granddaughter of the chief of the Golden Boar Clan!” she bellowed. “I don’t care who you are or where you’re from. If you lay a hand on that black-haired guy, I’ll kill you!”

“What?!”

Covered in dirt, Waffa marched toward them. In Ironforge, clan names carried weight, and hers was no exception. The guards quickly stepped aside.

“B-But Miss Waffa, an order has been issued to detain this man.”

“Huh? You gonna argue with me now?”

“It’s not that, but…”

“Then shut up, you idiot!”

Though Waffa was likely half the age of the Dwarf she was addressing, she held a considerably higher status.

“That’s enough, Waffa,” one of her three companions interjected, stepping between her and Hikaru. “They’re just doing their jobs.”

“Yeah,” another chimed in.

“Remember, other clans are watching,” the third added.

One of them casually hefted the battle axe Waffa had dropped. Must be pretty good fighters too, Hikaru thought.