The Dwarven Crafter

by Kugane Maruyama

  Gondo took a sword out of his bag and handed it to Ainz. There was a rune inscribed on its blade.

  “This is kun, the lower-tier rune that means ‘sharp.’ With this carved in properly, the sword becomes enchanted. It makes the blade sharper, so it’s easier to cut deeper into your opponents.”

  “Yes, that’s a basic weapon enchantment. I heard that it takes longer to craft depending on how much of a damage bonus will be provided, but also that it can be done fairly quickly if only the minimum is needed.”

  “That right there is exactly why everyone thought runes were behind the times. To make the same item with runes takes double or triple the time. In terms of productivity, our technology is inferior to human methods of enchantment.” Gondo sighed abruptly. “Since better technology was being imported, the number of rune crafters kept falling. Instead, these days people think it’s better to become a magic caster who can enchant things.”

  Ainz now understood the reason rune weapons had stopped appearing in the empire. It was a traditional art that was dying out.

  Then Gondo frowned. “But abandoning our technology is the most foolish thing we could do! For instance, one good thing about runes is that they don’t cost money!”

  Gondo’s wails echoed off the tunnel walls. Realizing that perhaps he shouldn’t get so agitated in such a dangerous place, he let out a long sigh. When he continued, he was calmer.

  “Do you know how much it costs to enchant things? The material cost is quite expensive.”

  That was true. Ainz had heard that half the market price was usually the enchantment’s material cost.

  The percentage was unusually high, but apparently, prices were set on the assumption that wholesalers or retailers didn’t exist. This meant the Wizards Guild wasn’t taking a cut—although the annual membership fees could be thought of as a tax. The market was unregulated, leaving customers and casters to deal with each other directly.

  If there was a retailer involved, the price went up a bit.

  “But dwarven runes cost almost nothing!”

  “That’s fantastic!” Ainz leaned in.

  As the adventurer Momon and as the ruler of Nazarick, Ainz often fretted about expenditures. The appeal of not needing to spend any money was something he could feel in his bones.

  That’s why he was confused. Runes didn’t seem like the sort of technology that would be abandoned.

  “…There must be other downsides to runes, right?”

  “Well, there are, but the productivity issue was the main one. Not only do runes take a long time to craft, but there aren’t enough people with the aptitude for it. I heard from someone in the empire that they’re even rarer than people who can become casters.”

  “Hmm, that makes me curious. If people started to think of runes as outdated two hundred years ago, then why would someone call themselves a rune tech developer? Isn’t it a bit late for that? Or do dwarves simply live that long?”

  Gondo didn’t answer. Ainz pressed him.

  “What kind of rune technology are they developing?”

  Ainz came up beside Gondo.

  There was none of the passion in Gondo’s face as he looked intently forward. But then he shot back a question.

  “What made you want to learn about runes?”

  Ainz didn’t feel like quibbling about how Gondo had replied to a question with a question. If he could deliver the right answer here, he stood a good chance of learning some of what Gondo was hiding. Considering the dwarf had dropped “Your Majesty,” this must have been an important question.

  But they didn’t yet have the sort of relationship where he could speak frankly. Besides, to begin with—

  Why does he seem so willing to leak info? Is this a trap? Or could it be that he doesn’t understand its value…? There must be jealously guarded techniques, so surely he understands the importance. Right?

  Despite his confusion, Ainz decided to say the lines he had prepared as his official motive. “They seem a bit different from the runes I know. Isn’t it only natural that I would be curious about the history and derivations? Will you answer my question?”

  Gondo averted his gaze again and was mulling things over. For a little while, everyone was silent as they walked.

  An irritating amount of time passed before he finally spoke again. “Currently, I’m experimenting with ways to shorten the rune-crafting enchantment time. Moreover, I’m looking into mass-production techniques. But that’s a means, not the goal. My aim is to develop technology that can only be achieved with runes. I want to make rune technology unique enough that it won’t be left behind.”

  In other words, a value-added process. Company execs liked that phrase. They’re especially naggy about it during product development.

  “Oh-ho. That’s some great research you’re doing. And how is it going?” he asked without expecting a response because there was something he didn’t understand. If this dwarf was developing revolutionary new technology, then he should have been a VIP in the dwarf world.

  I don’t get why he’s digging alone in this dangerous area. You’d think someone this important would have guards with him.

  But Ainz’s question was resolved in the next moment.

  “It’s not. Not at all. I haven’t gotten anywhere with my work,” Gondo murmured gloomily. “We call someone who creates magic items with rune technology a rune crafter, but I’m not one of them. I’m not even worthy of being an apprentice.”

  Huh? Ainz quipped mentally. That meant someone who couldn’t properly use rune tech was trying to develop it—which made no sense.

  Was it even possible to develop new technology like that? Or was this how research always worked?

  No, this can’t be normal. Gondo wouldn’t look so down otherwise. He must know he’s attempting the impossible.

  Ainz wasn’t sure what to do. He had no idea if this Gondo guy would be of any use or not.

  “I just don’t have the aptitude. I can manage carving a rune. But it takes so long… They say that all rune crafters go through that stage. But everyone else kept improving while I got stuck.” Gondo shook his head sadly. “I’m an incompetent rune crafter. I only got the dregs of my amazing father’s ability.”

  I see, thought Ainz. His issues stem from lack of skill.

  Combining his knowledge from this world with what he remembered from Yggdrasil, Ainz figured the situation went something like this: Most likely, a person needed ten levels or so in another class to become a rune crafter. Gondo had managed to clear that hurdle and was now a level-1 rune crafter.

  But the limit of his total levels was eleven, meaning he probably couldn’t progress any further as a rune crafter. At the same time, he wouldn’t be able to acquire any of the truly useful skills as a humble level-1 rune crafter.

  There was nothing Ainz could do for Gondo. Consequently, he didn’t say anything.

  Sometimes consolation could save people, but other times it was simply offensive.

  If Ainz were in Gondo’s position, he wouldn’t want to be comforted by someone he had only just met.

  “…I see. Are all dwarves working toward the advancement of rune technology?”

  “No, just me.” Gondo cracked a sad smile. “All the rune crafters have given up. No one tries to pull away from existing techniques to develop something new. They seem to think it’s fine if rune tech eventually fades away.”

  “I see… I have one question. What do you want to do once you develop new techniques?”

  “What? I’ll enchant things with runes, obviously. I want there to be more rune crafters. Runes are a wonderful technology. It would be a waste for them to disappear.”

  “Do you have any supporters?”

  “No. As I said before, most rune crafters have given up—they’re a bunch of drunks. They think the art will vanish within their generation. In the past, I tried to win them over, but they all refused.”

  “…Hmm. The weak shall perish. It’s natural that a technology th
at can’t be used will fade away.”

  Gondo shot Ainz a stern look but immediately wilted.

  Watching Gondo hang his head, Ainz mused about value.

  Honestly, he didn’t have any interest in runes aside from whether players were involved in their history or not.

  But abandoned technology was probably cheap, meaning it could make for a good investment. The fact that it didn’t cost money or require expensive materials to use was fantastic. And the fact that it was a rare technology made him want to collect it.

  The other bonus was that if other players were around and they had a similar interest in runes, then Ainz could use that to attract them.

  “…There’s one other thing I’m wondering about. What basis do you have for thinking such development is even possible? From your comments before, it seems to me that you’re just saying what you want out of ignorance.”

  “No! It’s true that I have no aptitude and couldn’t become a rune crafter even if my life depended on it. But my father and his father were the leading rune crafters in the country. My family has worked alongside the last of the royal family, the Rune Crafter King. I watched them do it. And I read their books, so I know it’s not impossible! My father even affirmed my ideas from his sickbed! He said it would be extremely difficult but that it wasn’t impossible!” Tears had formed in the corners of Gondo’s eyes as he laid bare his pain.

  These must have all been emotions he had been bottling up finally bursting out.

  Though Ainz was being hit with raw emotion, he wasn’t terribly moved. He did want Gondo’s research to succeed but only because he wanted to acquire a rare technology before it was lost. If that couldn’t be done, he could simply accept the fact and give up.

  “It’s true that I, his son, have no skill! But I don’t want the art of my ancestors to disappear! I can’t allow the glorious name of my father to fade from history!”

  Those were the words that moved Ainz.

  He himself wanted to keep alive everything the guild Ainz Ooal Gown had created.

  At that moment, he understood Gondo’s feelings so much it hurt.

  Suddenly, he felt a much greater affinity for the dwarf.

  And at the same time, he realized why he was talking so much.

  To Gondo, runes were already dead or dying. There was no reason to hide anything. He probably felt that on the contrary, spreading information about them far and wide would result in a greater chance of continued existence. Although Ainz wasn’t sure if Gondo had consciously thought that far or not.

  “…You’ll have to excuse me. This might anger you, but let me say it anyway: You’re you—not your father or your grandfather. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Gondo’s expression had shifted to what couldn’t quite be described as furious, disconsolate, or sentimental. In the end, he seemed forlorn. “Your Majesty, King of Darkness, I thank you. But I have decided my path in life.”

  “Then I—or rather, my country—will support you financially. I’ll be your patron and assist your research.”

  Gondo’s eyes gaped and he flailed about. “D-do you really mean that? It’s too good to be true… I can’t believe it.”

  There was always a catch. Ainz was excruciatingly familiar with the way Gondo felt.

  “All I can say is I want you to believe. But with you alone, someone unable to do any rune crafting, won’t it be impossible to develop the techniques you were talking about?”

  Gondo zipped his lips and said nothing.

  “With that in mind, I’d like to move all the rune crafters of the dwarf country to my nation and have them aid you in your research.”

  “Wh-what do you mean?”

  “Exactly what I said. I want to mobilize all the rune crafters, allow them to compare notes and develop new technology. To that end, I need your help poaching them. Or is it impossible?”

  Gondo thought on it before answering. “No, I don’t think it’s impossible. The rune crafters are at their wits’ end, but I think most would be open to a chance, if there is one.”

  “We need to appeal to their emotions… So, Gondo. Will you join me? How much of your soul will you sell?”

  “What?”

  “If we don’t focus all the rune crafters on a single goal, it’d be hard to rehabilitate a disappearing technology, right? We can’t do this half-heartedly. We need to poach every last rune crafter. That means there’s a good chance we’ll have to resort to some underhanded methods. And someone cooperating with me may be forced to betray their country.”

  “Oh, that’s what you’re talking about? Then the answer is simple. If it’s just my soul, that’s a small price to pay to make rune technology immortal.” Gondo held out a hand.

  Ainz took it. “I’m an undead. That’s all right with you?”

  Gondo smiled at Ainz’s question. “If you’ll give me the chance to make my dream come true, I don’t care if you’re undead or the terrible frost dragonlord.”

  “Then first, will you lead me to the dwarf country? I want to meet with the king and sign a friendship treaty so we can invite the rune crafters to my country. It would be problematic to extend an invite to the artisans if our countries didn’t have any diplomatic relations, right? They aren’t trying to guard the technology at all?”

  “We shouldn’t have any problems with that. I don’t think they even want runes these days. Oh, and we don’t have a king anymore. Now the country is run by multiple leaders in a regency council.”

  “Hmm. I’d like to hear more about that. I’m fine with hearing it while we walk, so will you teach me?”

  Gondo agreed, and by the time they reached the entrance of the tunnel, Ainz had learned all sorts of things.

  When the three of them exited the tunnel, Shalltear and the others were waiting. Naturally, Zenbel was there, too.

  Gondo may have been expecting undead, but seeing the magical beasts put him on guard. Or rather, Ainz heard him murmur, “There aren’t any dark elves.”

  Shalltear came forward and bowed. “Lord Ainz, I’m sorry to trouble you immediately upon your return, but a slight problem has arisen.”

  “…There are some Hanzos missing. What happened?”

  “My lord! It appears some sort of creatures have invaded this cave. They came from the tunnel in the building Aura led us to earlier. My apologies for telling you after the fact, but I took the liberty of sending some Hanzos out to scout.”

  “No need to apologize. You did everything right, Shalltear. We’ll wait for the Hanzos to return and analyze the information they bring back before deciding what to do next. And then…” He glanced over at the former resident of the city, but he was busy talking to Zenbel and not paying attention to the others. From what he could hear, it seemed like they were talking about the dwarf Zenbel was indebted to. “Gondo, sorry to interrupt, but it seems this city has been invaded. I may have to use my powers within your city, so if that happens, I want you to testify that I had no choice, even though I was in your country.”

  “Of course. You can leave that to me. But please don’t cause too much damage.”

  Ainz nodded. Of course he wanted to avoid doing anything that might hamper his future negotiations.

  “Shalltear, what’s our security like?”

  “I sent out Aura’s magical beasts, but… Aura, what do you think?”

  “I’m pretty sure it’ll be fine. Even if the enemy is invisible, my beasts can sniff them out.”

  “Got it. Then we just wait for the Hanzos.”

  After a little while, the Hanzos returned.

  According to their report, the intruders seemed to be kuagoa; a lot of them—at least a hundred. When Gondo overheard that, he was shocked. A hundred was quite a large number, far more than necessary for scouting. Perhaps it made sense to consider them a combat unit. Or was this a tribe that was moving in?

  There was only one thing Ainz could do in this case.

  “…Shalltear, capture them all. Can you do it?”

&n
bsp; “If that is your order, I shall carry it out without fail.”

  “Consider it an order. Do you understand why I’m having you catch them?”

  “To extract information from them and to avoid letting any leave with information about us.”

  Ainz nodded firmly. “That’s right. If we only take one alive, then we can only get information from that one, increasing the chances of leaks or misinformation. We can also kill prisoners to make a point.”

  And though he didn’t want to say it in front of Gondo, listening to only one side of the story could be a bad decision. It was possible that dealing with the kuagoa would be more beneficial.

  “Get going, Shalltear. And bring back some good news.”

  3

  Shalltear, accompanied by her aides, hurried toward the location where the kuagoa had appeared. She leaped from rooftop to rooftop, running so fast, she was practically flying. She was already wearing her armor, so she didn’t have to worry about her extensive padding.

  She looked over her shoulder to confirm that Aura was keeping up.

  Normally, a guardian would have stayed behind to protect their master. Since Aura was with her, it probably meant Shalltear wasn’t trusted.

  Well, why would she be?

  She didn’t have any memories of the offense she had committed, but she had heard about it from the others.

  Their kind master had said it wasn’t her mistake, but she couldn’t imagine that was true. That’s why she had been waiting for a chance to clear her name, but unfortunately, she hadn’t been blessed with one—until now.

  Aura had consoled her, but that wasn’t what she wanted.

  Shalltear stared straight ahead, her gaze determined. I won’t fail even once on this journey.

  Before long, they arrived at a building not far from their destination, and Shalltear peered down at the kuagoa.

  A few members of the race the Hanzos had described milled outside the building.

  “Now then, what to do.” Shalltear considered her options.

  Her voice was probably audible, but Aura simply stood behind her with arms crossed, saying nothing. That was as it should be. The orders their master had given Aura before coming were, Watch over Shalltear, and if she tries to massacre them, stop her even if you have to hit her. Other than that, you’re not permitted to influence Shalltear’s operation at all.