The Reincarnated Martial God Brings Down the Heavens - Chapter 106

Chapter 106 – Dwarves (3)

“Put down your weapons!”

At Bolt’s command, the dwarves lowered their drawn bows.

“Phew……”

Trevor let out a sigh of relief and turned to look at me.

“……Thank you for trusting me with this.”

“Well, we did agree to this beforehand.”

“You did good—holding yourself back.”

His words made me feel a little prick of guilt.

“Don’t act like you know me so well. Anyone would think we’ve known each other for years.”

“……”

Trevor gave me a strange smile.

“Did I hit a nerve?”

“No?”

“Looks like I did.”

“I said no.”

“Alright, alright. Let’s say I didn’t.”

Watching his annoying grin, I could feel something bubbling inside me.

‘I should really teach this guy a lesson.’

If he wasn’t injured, I wouldn’t have hesitated to smack him on the back of the head.

‘……Sigh. I should be the bigger person and hold back.’

My eyes drifted to Trevor’s empty knees, devoid of legs. Suddenly, I remembered a memory from the past.

“My lord! What would you like to do once the war is over?”

“Why are you asking all of a sudden?”

“You’ve asked me once, too, haven’t you? What I’d do when the war ended. I’ve been curious about your answer too.”

“Now that you mention it, you said you wanted to live on a wide-open plain and farm, right? And use Urha as a watering can.”

“Hahaha, yes. Would you like to join me?”

Back then, I didn’t hesitate to shake my head.

“How much more of a pathetic family man do you want me to be?”

“Sorry?”

“No thanks. After the war, I just want to live happily with my family, not with sweaty men.”

“That sounds nice, too. Then, how about taking a trip with Andy sometime?”

“A trip……?”

“Yes! My hometown is known for its beauty, isn’t it? I’ll serve you a meal made with crops I grew myself, the renowned crops of the Swordsman of Illusions!”

“Hmm…… Well, I’ll think about it.”

“Is that a promise?”

Trevor beamed at my answer.

“Or I might not.”

“You shouldn’t go back on your word.”

“Hey, your hometown’s in the middle of nowhere and it’s far from my place.”

“Distance doesn’t mean much to someone like you, anyway, my lord.”

“Oh? So you’re saying that my suffering is none of your business, huh?”

Trevor was cheerful back then, and a real chatterbox.

“What’s a little hardship, really? Even if it’s a journey across the continent, think of it as priceless memories with your kid.”

“Andy would hate it more than me.”

“If I were Andy, I’d be jumping for joy! Who wouldn’t love a trip with their beloved father?”

Trevor smiled brightly as he pressed me further.

“They say kids these days hate going through hardships. It’s not like the time when we were young.”

“If Andy does complain, I’ll give them a piece of my mind. I’ll say, ‘What’s the use of having a perfectly good body? Get up and move!’”

“Seriously, leave the nagging to me. I’m a champion at that.”

“Andy needs to know, too. Even when life is hard, when you fall and feel like giving up, even if you lose everything…… As long as you have both legs, you can always stand back up.”

Back to the present, I let out a long sigh. The one who said those words no longer has strong legs—or even arms.

And here I was, practically forcing him to stand back up again.

“……Let’s just go eat.”

“Huh? That’s a bit random.”

“Hey, we’ve taken care of the urgent stuff! We need to eat to keep going, don’t we!?”

Annoyed by Trevor’s questioning look, I snapped at him.

‘If you really aren’t the traitor……’

I then vowed to myself. I would be the legs he no longer had.

The uncomfortable journey continued for a while. Eventually, under the dwarves’ strict surveillance, Ancelot’s group arrived at their destination.

“Wow……”

A few members of the party gasped in awe, their jaws dropping to the floor.

After traveling deep into the hills, an imposing stone mountain appeared before them, towering high above their heads.

The dwarves had carved out homes in various parts of the mountain.

Murmurs filled the air.

Startled by the sudden arrival of unexpected visitors, some dwarves poked their heads out to look down at them.

“You should stay here for a while.”

Bolt’s voice echoed from beside them.

“Huh? Here?”

“There aren’t enough dugouts because of Trevor’s men. Got a problem with that?”

“……”

For reference, the area around them was nothing but a desolate plain. Even worse, the rocky terrain made it a poor place to camp.

“A perfect place to become wolf food.”

Marquis Foltaine clicking his tongue in dissatisfaction.

“They say stone beds are better as you get older, though.”

“……Milon, you’re starting to sound like him.”

“You misunderstand me.”

Even Milon, who rarely spoke, muttered, ‘We should’ve just stayed in the plains.’ in discontent.

It was clear this treatment was a deliberate slight.

“Should I have just given them a beating?”

“You really are on the same wavelength as me.”

As Ancelot voiced his thoughts to himself, Marquis Foltaine grinned.

Then—

“……What did you just say?”

It seemed Bolt had heard, too.

‘Well, since he heard it, no point denying it.’

Ancelot stepped forward without hesitation.

“Are you going to keep being petty?”

“What? Petty?”

“Instead of this petty stuff, let’s just settle things like men. I thought dwarves were supposed to be bold and straightforward? You’re not living up to the rumors.”

Bolt grinned wide at Ancelot’s words.

“Heh heh heh…… Damn demonic bastard. I’ve felt this, but you really have a wicked tongue.”

“W-Wait! You were doing just fine until now. Why are you being like this!?”

Trevor hurried over, clearly alarmed. Ancelot only smiled slyly. A memory from the previous night surfaced in his mind.

“How about a strength contest? You know, as a little bonding activity.”

“Oh?”

Marquis Foltaine’s eyes lit up at the familiar suggestion.

“……Strength contest?”

Bolt repeated, looking both confused and amused.

‘It’s a well known fact that no other race can match the dwarves in raw strength.’

Dwarves were born craftsmen and warriors. Unlike the elves, who pursued peace, dwarves shared humans’ love of competition.

“Last night, I saw these guys here playing a fun game. Ever heard of ‘arm wrestling’?”

“……You bastard. Do you even know the origins of arm wrestling? It’s one of our race’s traditional……”

Ancelot cut in while Bolt was still speaking.

“So what? Do I really need to know where it comes from?”

“……”

“If you’re a chicken, feel free to run away.”

Bolt’s lips twisted upward in a grin.

At this moment, he felt he could give away all the precious minerals he had just for the chance to pummel this demon’s smug face.

‘Demon spawn. I see exactly what you’re trying to do.’

But as the leader of his clan, Bolt composed himself.

‘He must have some hidden motive behind this behavior.’

Bolt suspected he knew the reason. What was the reason humans had become the dominant force on the continent?

Their skill in forging weapons?

From a dwarf’s perspective, their abilities were laughable at best.

Magic?

Compared to the big-eared bastards, humans were equally unimpressive.

‘No, it’s their absurd reproductive ability And……’

Bolt’s gaze shifted to Marquis Foltaine.

‘……The existence of Reapers.’

Because they wielded mana in unique ways, the existence known as ‘knights’ were dangerous. The weapons they used, called cultivation methods, were a privilege exclusive to humans.

However—

‘They still think we can’t use mana, don’t they?’

That assumption was outdated. Dwarven warriors had now learned to harness mana for themselves.

‘Thanks, Trevor. I do owe you.’

Humans cherished their cultivation methods as if they were more precious than life itself.

Yet Trevor had generously shared these secrets with the dwarves. He’d even tailored them to fit their bodies perfectly.

‘Of course, we’re not yet as skilled in mana control as human knights.’

But in a game like arm wrestling, it wasn’t mana that mattered. Strength and technique were what counted—things that were deeply rooted in dwarf tradition.

And so……

‘……There’s no way we’ll lose to these humans.’

It was certain that retreat wasn’t an option. That bastard probably threw the bait, knowing they’d have no choice but to accept.

Indeed. There was no way that his mouth wasn’t that of a demon’s.

‘Alright. I’ll crush your spirit right here and now.’

Bolt’s grin widened.

The first blow was crucial in any fight, after all. If this contest allowed him to exact some revenge on these humans, so much the better.

“Everyone, gather ’round!”

Having gathered his thoughts, Bolt called out to the others. More dwarven faces appeared from various holes in the mountain, curious about the commotion.

“A-Are they going to fight?”

“Shh. Bolt knows what he’s doing. Let’s just watch.”

A crowd quickly formed a circle around them.

“Any special rules in mind?”

He was willing to accept most of their terms. After all, this was their home ground. Even if they lost on their terms, he wouldn’t change his mind.

If they lost, they lost—he wasn’t about to stoop to the humans’ level of dishonor and betrayal.

But then.

“We can’t have people getting hurt…… so let’s not use our mana holes.”

“……!”

But the demon bastard took it a step further.

‘What did this lunatic just say?’

Bolt blinked, unsure if he’d heard correctly.

“Are you serious? No mana holes?”

“Is that rock dust clogging your ears?”

“……”

He wasn’t kidding.

Bolt was ready to offer them an advantage, but Ancelot had imposed a handicap on himself instead.

“Oh! One more thing.”

“……What now?”

“Winner stays on. The winner keeps facing challengers until they lose. And if you lose the match, you’ll shut your mouths and treat us like proper guests.”

“……”

Bolt, who had been listening, slack-jawed, burst into laughter. He especially liked the part about ‘shutting their mouths’.

“And if we win?”

“We’ll do as you say. If you want, we’ll sleep on the ground, leave—whatever.”

“You’re not half-bad, demon. For the first time, I like you.”

Bolt meant it. This kind of boldness was rare, even among young dwarves.

“Let’s make it quick. I’ve got soldiers to feed and might need to borrow some tools for it.”

“Heh heh heh, fine by me.”

Bolt nodded and shouted.

“Wheel! Nut! Wrench! Sten! Step forward!”

Four more dwarves emerged, each with thick, muscular arms easily twice the size of most others—born warriors.

“And who’s your representative?”

“Right here.”

Ancelot pointed to himself.

“……Demon bastard, you’ll step forward yourself?”

“Yup.”

For the first time, Bolt hesitated. Even after everything, wasn’t he still a human child?

“……I’m saying this for you, but it’s not too late to change your mind. If you’re not careful, that frail wrist of yours might snap……”

“Do dwarves fight with their tongues now?”

“……!”

Bolt’s muscles tensed, veins bulging in his arms.

“……Heh heh heh, fine. And the rest of your team?”

Bolt decided not to get caught up in the provocations of that demon bastard, to which he had now become accustomed.

“Didn’t I say? Winner stays on.”

“……?”

“What’s the point of knowing who’s next? I’ll be all we need.”

“……”

Of course, that’s what Bolt had told.

***