Dwarves are typically known for their authoritarian and stern demeanor—a reputation that’s not entirely unwarranted.
According to Erika, it was often difficult to communicate effectively with higher-ranking dwarves.

However, my experiences with countless events in the game had taught me to see things a bit differently.
While dwarves can be exclusive toward other races, I believe this stems from a lack of mutual understanding.

Dwarven politicians, in particular, are artisans brimming with pride before they are anything else.

Instead of emphasizing the Emperor’s authority, I opted to appeal to their sensibilities.

“Is this joint polished separately for convenience?” I asked, examining a finely crafted item.
“That’s correct. It’s a technique first introduced by the Lester Workshop, which improves range of motion compared to standard finishing methods,” the artisan replied proudly.

This approach proved quite successful.
As I displayed an active interest in their craftsmanship, the artisans enthusiastically explained their techniques.

Even Dominic, whose initial expression had been less than welcoming, began to soften.

“It’s rare for dwarves to let humans into their workshops. Usually, they just hand over goods with a grim expression,” Erika whispered.
“It must be because of Her Majesty Luise’s renowned reputation,” I replied lightly.
“Hah…”

With the dwarves visibly more at ease, we were escorted into the royal palace.

“It’s large,” Anna remarked.

As she noted, the palace’s size wasn’t much different from human palaces.
The doors, though tall, were also wide to accommodate the sturdy builds of dwarves, who stood around 140 cm tall. The design felt more practical than awkward.

The architectural style and interior decorations set the palace apart, however.
Instead of ornate embellishments, the design was pragmatic and orderly. Even the weapons and armor displayed as decorations were so well-crafted they could be used in actual combat without issue.

“There certainly seems to be a lot of armor and weaponry here,” Erika observed.
“These weapons are made by workshops selected each year for their excellence. They’re fully functional,” one of the accompanying dwarves explained.
“For us dwarves, having our work displayed in the royal palace is a great honor. My workshop participated two years ago, but the competition was fierce,” he added.
“Ah, I see. Thank you for the explanation,” Erika replied with an awkward smile, adjusting to their eagerness to elaborate.

Anna scanned her surroundings in silence as she followed, while Moritz walked quietly, carrying the long box containing the gifts.

“There’s no denying matchlocks are sensitive to bad weather. Have you been working on improving that aspect?” I asked, steering the conversation toward firearms.
“Yes, we’re experimenting with ways to address that. While it’s difficult to overcome the limitations of using gunpowder, eliminating the need for constant fire management would be a significant improvement,” Dominic replied.
“I agree,” I said, nodding.

I used the knowledge I had to engage Dominic in conversation, doing my best to maintain a good rapport.

“Master Artisan Dominic!”
“Hm. Inform His Majesty that the delegation from the Dragonia Empire has arrived,” Dominic instructed one of his aides.
“At once!”

Thanks to this favorable atmosphere, we reached the audience chamber without incident.

“You may enter!”

The grand doors opened, revealing the audience chamber of the Dwarven royal palace.

This was the critical moment. I allowed myself a moment to heighten my focus and prepare for what lay ahead.

---

“Dominic and the delegation from Dragonia have arrived.”
“Hm.”

At the attendant’s report, King Steven straightened in his throne.

“They’re quite late. Was there a problem?”

Knowing Dominic’s temperament, Steven wondered if the delay was his fault.

“They were delayed visiting several workshops. Other than that, there were no issues.”

Steven stroked his long beard at the unexpected response.

“Visiting workshops? Didn’t you say they’re from Dragonia?”
“Yes. They had in-depth conversations with the artisans at some of the workshops.”
“Hm. Dominic was with them the entire time?”
“Yes.”

Steven tapped his throne in thought.

While Dragonia’s delegations had visited before, they had never lingered so long at the workshops to the point of delaying their arrival at the palace.

The artisans in the capital’s workshops were among the finest and proudest of the dwarves. It was unheard of for them to engage deeply with outsiders, let alone human delegations.

Even if Dominic had accompanied them, those artisans wouldn’t have been so accommodating without good reason.

“Curious. Let’s hear what they have to say,” Steven said finally.
“Shall I let them in now?”
“Go ahead.”

With Steven’s nod, the large doors to the audience chamber opened, and Dominic led the delegation inside.

Dominic’s expression was always an easy read for Steven, who quickly glanced at his face to gauge the mood.

Given their precarious border relationship with Dragonia, Steven expected a neutral expression at best.

But—

“...!”

To Steven’s surprise, Dominic entered the chamber with a faint smile on his face.

“Chief Artisan Dominic Smith, arriving with the delegation from Dragonia,” Dominic announced as he approached the throne.

He placed his hands together and bowed, a rare gesture of respect among dwarves, given their reluctance to kneel.

“You’ve done well,” Steven said, his tone softened by Dominic’s uncharacteristic demeanor.
“I’ll stand by and await further instructions,” Dominic replied.

Steven blinked. Dominic was usually eager to return to his workshop after formalities. His willingness to stay spoke volumes.

Then Viktor stepped forward.

“I am Viktor, Commander of the Red Dragon Corps,” he said.
“Welcome. I am Steven Smith, King of Anchester,” Steven replied, observing Viktor’s composed bow and introduction.

Erika began translating for Viktor, while a dwarven attendant stood ready to interpret for Steven.

“My apologies for the delay in our arrival,” Viktor began. “I was captivated by the masterpieces of your artisans and couldn’t simply pass them by.”

Steven’s lips curled into a small smile.

“There’s no need for apologies. Before such a significant negotiation, it’s only natural to familiarize yourself with the related craftsmanship. I’m pleased to hear our artisans left such an impression on you.”
“Thank you for your understanding,” Viktor said, bowing slightly.

Steven now understood why Dominic had entered with a smile.

“Her Majesty, Empress Luise Zainburg, has prepared a special gift to commemorate the harmony and cooperation between our nations. Before we begin negotiations, I would like to present it to you,” Viktor continued.
“We gratefully accept.”

At Viktor’s signal, Moritz stepped forward, carrying a long box. He handed it to Dominic, who in turn presented it to Steven.

“You may open it,” Viktor said.
“Very well.”

Steven carefully opened the box.

“A sword?”

The long sword inside was encased in a weathered scabbard, with its hilt showing signs of wear from extensive use.

“A weapon as a gift?”
“Curious…”

The dwarves in the chamber murmured at the idea of humans gifting a weapon to dwarves.

But Steven’s reaction was different.

He gently ran his fingers over the scabbard and hilt, his eyes widening as he studied the blade. Then, as if compelled, he grasped the hilt and drew the sword.

-Shing.-

Despite the worn exterior, the blade was impeccably maintained, its sharp edge gleaming like a mirror.

Steven examined it closely, his fingers tracing the blade. Finally, he asked, his voice trembling, “This sword… can you tell me its story?”

“Of course,” Viktor replied smoothly. “The sword’s name is Votis. It was wielded by Fried, a legendary hero of the Empire.”

The room fell silent.

“It is also said to be the masterpiece of the legendary dwarven blacksmith, Josh Schmidt.”
“…What?”
“Josh Schmidt?”

The name sent ripples of shock through the room.

Erika glanced nervously at Viktor, who remained calm, as though he had expected this reaction.

After a long pause, Steven spoke softly, “Josh Schmidt… That is the name he used in your Empire. Among us, he was known as Joshua Smith.”
“…”

Steven picked up his ceremonial scepter from its resting place.

“This scepter was crafted by his hand, and the markings within are unmistakably his work. The craftsmanship and techniques used on this sword match perfectly with this scepter. Simply holding this blade feels as though I’m touching his legacy. It was thought lost to time… How did you come to possess this?”

“Her Majesty only recently rediscovered it,” Viktor explained.
“I see…”

“According to Fried’s legend, the sword was merely borrowed. Despite the passage of time, an oath is an oath. Her Majesty wishes for this sword to become a symbol of trust and cooperation between our nations.”

Steven’s gaze lingered on the sword before he returned it to the box with care. Stroking his beard thoughtfully, he finally spoke.

“Such a valuable gift demands a worthy response. Please, state the terms your nation desires.”

Viktor’s lips curled into a faint smile.

“With pleasure.”