The lingering sense of unease didn’t last long.

“We should purchase plenty of spare firearms, given that their lifespan isn’t very long,” I remarked.
“Yes, until the Imperial craftsmen are capable of producing firearms themselves, we’ll need to rely on those made by the Dwarves,” Moritz replied, his focus unwavering as he busied himself with administrative tasks.

“How was the lodging?” Erika asked, turning to Anna.
“I didn’t expect accommodations tailored for humans to be available,” Anna replied.
“Unlike other Dwarven kingdoms, the Kingdom of Anchester frequently interacts with humans,” Erika explained with a smile.
“I see,” Anna said simply.

Erika’s lively demeanor helped lift the mood, and any initial awkwardness between us and Anna dissipated within a few days.

“What about you, Commander? How was the lodging?” Erika inquired.
“Hmm… hard to say,” I responded vaguely.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well, I thought it would be wasteful to spend money on myself, so I slept on the floor of a standard room,” I replied matter-of-factly.
“…”
“We haven’t even reached Dinheim yet. There’s no need to flaunt authority. Don’t worry, though—the soldiers were accommodated comfortably in special lodges designed for humans.”
“…Please don’t skimp on such expenses in the future,” Erika said with a mix of exasperation and concern.

The journey progressed without incident.

“Commander Viktor, we’ve arrived at Dinheim Castle,” a soldier announced a few days later.

We had finally reached Dinheim, the capital of the Kingdom of Anchester.

Setting aside my personal goal of uncovering any signs of a “crisis,” our primary objectives were to secure the mass purchase of firearms and negotiate the transfer of their manufacturing techniques.

Purchasing the firearms wouldn’t be difficult. Some mercenaries from the western continent had already acquired firearms from the Dwarves, and the Empire had previously purchased siege cannons from them.

The true challenge lay in securing a transfer of technology.

As other nobles had pointed out, producing weapons domestically was always preferable. If Anchester refused to share their techniques, the Empire would have to resort to other means to acquire the knowledge.

Reverse engineering was an option, but it would be expensive and time-consuming. Worse, it could severely damage relations with Anchester. If the rumors of mine depletion proved true, reverse engineering might become a necessity. Otherwise, the Empire could find itself facing opponents armed with superior Dwarven weapons in every future war—a situation to be avoided.

If I possessed advanced engineering knowledge, I might have been able to design an improved firearm myself. But with only a basic understanding of their operation, such a task was beyond me.

The optimal solution was to secure the Dwarves’ cooperation.

In the game, only the Dwarven nations fielded substantial numbers of firearm-equipped units. For others, firearms were limited to small elite forces. This highlighted the difficulty of obtaining and integrating this technology.

Fortunately, I had brought exceptional gifts from Luise’s private treasury—items carefully selected to dazzle the Dwarves. With the right approach, it seemed possible to succeed.

Even if we failed to secure the technology transfer, it wouldn’t be a total loss. If the terms we offered weren’t enough to convince Anchester, then no one else’s would be either.

“Whenever I’ve dealt with trading companies, they always frowned before we even began. Friction with their escorts was a constant issue,” Erika remarked.
“The escorts… hmm,” I mused.

Engaging Erika in conversation, I began formulating an approach that accounted for the meticulous pride of the Dwarves.

If I had to name the strategy, it would be something like the “Pride Elevation Strategy.”

“Everyone, change into your ceremonial uniforms,” I instructed.
“Yes, Commander!”

Before entering Dinheim Castle, I had the escort switch out of their heavy plate armor and into the formal uniforms of the Red Dragon Corps.

As we approached the massive gates—nearly as grand as those of the Imperial capital—I found myself lost in thought, considering the challenges ahead.

---

"Do I Really Have to Do This Myself?"

Dominic Smith wiped the grease from under his nails, fidgeting with the stiff collar of his traditional Anchester attire.

“We were on the verge of a technological breakthrough,” he muttered. “If I’d just waited an hour—no, thirty more minutes—I might have been free from these cumbersome matchlocks forever.”
“Dragonia is our most active trading partner,” Jamie, his long-time aide, replied coldly, unfazed by Dominic’s grumbling.

“We can’t treat an Imperial delegation sent by their Empress lightly. With your authority and knowledge of firearms, it’s only fitting that you personally greet them. His Majesty himself insisted—”
“Yes, yes, I get it. Fine,” Dominic sighed, resigning himself to the task.

Straightening his attire, he departed the workshop with his attendants in tow.

“So, Jamie, who’s leading the delegation?” he asked.
“A man named Viktor, Commander of the Red Dragon Corps under Empress Luise. He’s recently achieved significant victories on the battlefield,” Jamie explained.

Walking briskly on their short legs, the two continued their conversation.

“A soldier, then?”
“Yes.”
“And I have to explain everything myself? I can already imagine: ‘So, how well does it kill people?’” Dominic said, mimicking a stereotypical human question.
“…Please refrain from saying such things in front of the delegation,” Jamie admonished.
“I know, I know. It’s just frustrating. They don’t understand us.”

Recalling past dealings with humans over weapons, Dominic frowned.

“True. Thinking back to those mercenaries who came last time…” Jamie trailed off, shaking his head.
“They didn’t appreciate the soul and craftsmanship in our work. All they did was flaunt their egos,” Dominic said bitterly.
“They came to buy firearms, didn’t they? Toss them an outdated model, and they’d still be thrilled,” one of the Dwarves chimed in, drawing laughter from the others.

The Dwarves held no illusions about the Imperial delegation. They saw it as a transaction of necessity, not something to anticipate with any real enthusiasm.

But—

“…Interesting,” Dominic muttered as the delegation came into view.

“Those at the back must be the escort, right?”
“Yes, there are four in the delegation, so the ones following are likely their guards.”

The Dwarves focused their attention on the uniforms of the approaching escort.

Unlike most human guards who wore poorly-crafted armor that offended the Dwarves’ refined sensibilities, the Red Dragon Corps’ soldiers were dressed in pristine ceremonial uniforms. Their weapons were neatly sheathed, leaving no loose ends or exposed metal to criticize.

“They left all their scrap metal behind, it seems.”
“I was wondering how I’d hold back my critique. Good thing I won’t have to,” one Dwarf quipped.
“Hmm,” another added approvingly.

Dominic, however, kept his eyes on the delegation leader walking at the front.

If Viktor had arrived on horseback or riding in a carriage, towering over him, Dominic might have been less inclined to engage. But the sight of Viktor dismounting and walking level with his group earned Dominic’s grudging respect, even if he had to crane his neck slightly to meet his gaze.

“Chief Artisan and Prince of Anchester, Dominic Smith,” he introduced himself.
“An honor to meet you. I am Viktor, Commander of the Red Dragon Corps, representing Her Majesty, Empress Luise Zainburg,” Viktor replied, bowing slightly before extending his hand.

Dominic hesitated briefly, then shook Viktor’s hand, noting the Commander’s measured movements.

“This negotiation is of great importance. His Majesty will preside over the talks personally. Please, allow me to escort you to the palace,” Dominic said.
“Thank you,” Viktor replied, his response polite but not excessively deferential.

Dominic, who despised both arrogance and excessive servility, found Viktor’s demeanor unexpectedly agreeable.

As they made their way to the palace, Viktor paused several times to observe the workshops lining the streets.

“Are those leaf springs being crafted in this workshop?” he asked, gesturing toward a smithy.
“Yes, they are,” one of the artisans replied.
“How many can you produce in a day?”
“For smaller springs like these? Around twenty, sometimes more.”
“Incredible craftsmanship. The consistency is remarkable,” Viktor said, his tone filled with genuine admiration.

The Dwarves, accustomed to humans’ superficial curiosity or outright dismissal of their craft, began to warm to Viktor.

“What’s your heat treatment process? Our Imperial blacksmiths often struggle with uniform heat distribution, but these springs strike a perfect balance between flexibility and strength. Is there a particular method you use?” Viktor inquired.
“Hah! A human with an eye for quality! Come, I’ll show you,” the artisan said, beaming.

Although Dominic initially found Viktor’s approach unbecoming of his station, he couldn’t help but notice the Commander’s genuine interest and knowledge.

“Is this workshop producing gun barrels?” Viktor asked at another stop. “Master Artisan, may I examine one briefly? Her Majesty is deeply interested in the craftsmanship of your firearms.”
“Of course! Feel free to inspect it,” the artisan said, handing over a barrel.
“Thank you. The internal and external diameters are impressively uniform. How do you achieve such precision?” Viktor asked.
“Hoho! It’s good to see someone appreciate the effort that goes into it. Come, let me show you,” the artisan replied enthusiastically.

By the time they reached the palace, even the most skeptical Dwarves had softened their opinions of Viktor.

“This level of finish and the seamless joints—this blade must be one of your masterpieces?” Viktor asked, admiring a sword on display.
“Oh, that one? It’s just a piece I put out for sale. My true masterpiece is something else entirely,” the artisan replied, his chest puffing out with pride.

Viktor’s consistent praise and genuine curiosity earned him respect from the artisans, who now viewed him as more than just another human.

“This is the palace where His Majesty resides,” Dominic said as they finally arrived.

Though they were behind schedule, Dominic and Viktor’s group entered the palace in high spirits, the earlier tension replaced with camaraderie.

“Once we’ve met His Majesty, I’d like to visit your workshop personally,” Viktor said.
“By all means, I’ll be waiting,” Dominic replied with a nod.