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HELHEIM SCANS
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Chapter 71: Delivery Department (1)
“...Therefore, this presiding judge acknowledges that there were errors in the previous court ruling and, to correct them, hereby grants special permission for interactions between the White Anvil Tribe and the White Tower. Furthermore, considering the fact that the White Tower was unable to utilize the technology of the White Anvil Tribe despite their exclusive contract over the past 17 years, the court orders the renewal of their 50-year exclusive contract. Lastly, this court sentences the defendant—myself—to two hours of community service, thereby concluding this trial.”
“?”
This was the ruling handed down in a courtroom session that began far later than the scheduled 30 minutes.
The four leaders who heard it were utterly speechless.
‘What on earth did they discuss during the recess for this to happen…?’
‘What kind of grand promise could make a verdict flip 180 degrees like that?’
‘...And yet, His Majesty, the defendant, doesn’t seem to have suffered much damage.’
Two hours of community service.
That was the punishment King Gordin had imposed on himself.
On the other hand, for Hagor, the chief of the White Anvil Tribe, this was news that struck like lightning from a clear sky.
‘From today, another 50 years? A contract renewal?’
For a dwarf, who could live for hundreds of years, even 50 years was by no means a short time.
Yet, before he could even voice his frustration, Gordin spoke first.
“This is the conclusion I, as both the presiding judge and King of La Forge, have reached after careful deliberation. Chief Hagor, you are to faithfully fulfill the renewed contract with the White Tower.”
“...”
If one were to be honest, the reason they hadn’t been able to fulfill the original contract was entirely due to His Majesty’s policy of isolationism.
Although words of protest nearly escaped his lips, Hagor managed to suppress them with superhuman restraint.
“...Understood.”
“Then, I declare this court adjourned. Everyone, return to your daily lives.”
“May the blessings of the Primordial Flame be with you.”
Woosh! Crackle.
As the flames of each tribal leader extinguished one by one, only the flames of Oscar and Gordin remained in the courtroom.
Gordin, gazing down at the remaining flames, offered a word of advice.
“Be careful. The world has changed greatly, and the demons are beginning to stir again. There was a time when you were humanity’s last hope, but now, you’ve grown weaker, haven’t you?”
“Don’t worry. I was never humanity’s last hope to begin with.”
“...Hah, hahaha!”
Realizing the underlying meaning of those words, Gordin laughed heartily.
“Is that so? Yes, that’s right. This is the Oscar I remember.”
He bid farewell, looking forward to the day they would meet again.
As he said, Oscar had never been humanity’s last hope.
“Farewell, the first calamity of the demons, and their eternal nemesis.”
* * *
“What on earth happened?”
As the flames extinguished and they returned to their physical forms, Hagor immediately pressed for an explanation.
“...”
Oscar rotated his stiff neck a few times before responding.
“I pleaded.”
“Pleaded?”
“Yes, I poured my heartfelt sincerity into my plea, and it seems to have moved King Gordin’s heart.”
“That... doesn’t sound like him. He’s not one to be swayed by personal emotions.”
“If not that, how else could such a ruling have come about?”
Hagor had to concede to that point.
Ultimately, he stopped questioning Oscar.
‘Hmm. I suppose I’ll never know the king’s true intentions unless he shares them himself.’
With a sigh of regret, Hagor changed the subject.
“Fine. At any rate, with the permission for interaction secured, how do you think we should proceed with collaboration?”
“First, may I ask how many dwarves currently belong to the White Anvil Tribe?”
“Thirty-seven.”
Thirty-seven.
For one of the five tribes that formed the kingdom, it wasn’t a particularly large number.
‘It can’t be helped. Even if you gathered all the dwarves across the continent, their numbers wouldn’t exceed 500.’
This only underscored the importance of their unity.
Each member of their race was precious.
“In that case, the first step should be preparing for relocation.”
“Relocation? Are you suggesting we move to the White Tower?”
“Yes. I believe it would be more efficient.”
Currently, there were plenty of empty floors in the White Tower.
It was even possible to dedicate an entire floor solely for the White Anvil Tribe.
Oscar raised two fingers.
“If the White Anvil Tribe resides in the White Tower, there are two advantages.”
“Hmm. One would be improved work efficiency, eliminating unnecessary travel time.”
“Exactly. The other is for your safety.”
“Safety...? Ah!”
Reestablishing relations between dwarves and humans would inevitably draw the attention of those who found it distasteful.
Some groups might attempt to meddle, using any means possible.
“Now that we’re one family, the safety of the White Anvil Tribe is the responsibility of the White Tower.”
“Hmph. While our tribe isn’t weak, your words do provide reassurance.”
After some thought, Hagor nodded.
“Very well. We’ll begin preparations for relocation.”
“...Are you sure you don’t need to consult the other dwarves?”
Decisions made unilaterally by a leader sometimes risk internal discord.
To this, Hagor chuckled dryly.
“There’s no need for that.”
He then shouted to the dwarves who had been eavesdropping on their conversation from the shadows.
“Pack your things! We’re moving to the human world!”
“Woohoo!”
“Drinks! Let’s drink first!”
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As if they had been waiting for this very moment, the dwarves began their preparations with impressive speed.
“Hah, it seems they were eager to return to the surface?”
“Seventeen years is not a short time for us either. Naturally, they’d grow restless and tired of their secluded underground lives.”
Despite the flurry of activity, the dwarves didn’t seem to have much to pack.
“...Is that all the luggage you need?”
“Of course. If we need anything, we’ll simply make it.”
“Indeed, with our craftsmanship, there’s nothing we can’t create.”
This mindset of creating whatever they lacked was quintessentially dwarven.
What they carried consisted only of their hammers, tools, and the primordial flame.
After surveying them briefly, Oscar nodded.
“Good. Let’s set out.”
To the White Tower.
* * *
Oscar, leading the White Anvil Tribe into the White Tower, stood tall with broad shoulders and a confident stride.
And why not? He had succeeded in reopening relations with the dwarves after a 20-year hiatus.
Unfortunately, the expressions on the other mages’ faces were far from respectful.
“Oscar, who are those kids?”
“Did you bring the neighborhood kids here for a tour of the tower?”
“Hey, kids, no running in the hallways, okay? Listen carefully to your guide, Oscar.”
“Don’t go touching everything just because it looks cool.”
“......”
To their eyes, the 37 dwarves looked no more than children on a school outing.
At this, Hagor’s expression grew noticeably sullen.
“Oscar, who are these idiots?”
“They’re... well, the mages of the White Tower.”
“Hmph. I’ve suddenly lost all motivation to work. Feels like I’d rather just head back.”
“Please bear with it a little longer. I’ll send out a proper notice and explanation soon.”
Goren, who had been listening to their conversation, cautiously asked,
“On the way here, I saw a large market. Can we buy liquor there?”
“Ah, I’ll inform the shops in advance. If dealing with humans directly feels inconvenient, we can procure liquor for you separately.”
“No, no! I want to buy it myself!”
“So... so we’re finally going to be able to buy liquor like the Red Sand Tribe?”
“No more pretending to be pitiful and begging, saying, ‘Please, it’s just an errand for my dad’...”
“Haha, for the first time, I feel good about coming to the surface.”
The dwarves’ faces lit up with excitement as if they were really on a field trip.
At that moment, loud bickering could be heard not far away.
“How long do we have to keep being the only ones working ourselves to death?”
“Sigh, how many times do I have to say it? You’re not the only ones suffering! We’re working hard, too!”
“Hard? You think brewing a few potions is hard? We’re carrying heavy loads across the city all day!”
“...Did you just call it ‘a few potions’? Who do you think you have to thank for your raised salaries?”
Watching the argument, Hagor grabbed his belt and shook it as he asked,
“Oscar, who are these fools fighting at the entrance of the tower in broad daylight?”
“Hm. They’re the mages from the Potion Department and the Delivery Department.”
It wasn’t hard to figure out why they were arguing based on their conversation.
“It seems the Delivery Department, which works more outside the tower, feels their workload is heavier and is complaining about it.”
“So, it’s essentially a conflict between blue-collar and white-collar workers.”
“...Dwarves know about things like that?”
“Of course. But isn’t this something that could be solved by rotating personnel between departments periodically?”
“Well... brewing potions isn’t exactly a simple task.”
The current members of the Potion Department were the same ones who had helped Oscar create the vaccine for Cadena Flu.
Since then, they’d been working non-stop brewing potions, to the point where they were now experts in the task.
‘If we assign them to delivery for fairness, it’ll immediately disrupt potion production.’
Even if the recipe was shared, brewing potions required skill and experience.
Oscar rested his chin on his hand, deep in thought.
‘But thinking long-term, the Delivery Department’s complaints are valid.’
The delivery mages weren’t unskilled or low-level; they had simply been unlucky. They weren’t selected to join the potion team when Oscar was initially recruiting mages for vaccine production, so they were stuck with delivery work.
“...I’m an outsider, but this doesn’t look like a good situation.”
“I think so too.”
The White Tower had just started generating income and beginning to look like a proper magic tower.
It hadn’t yet regained the status it had once held among the Four Great Towers.
In other words, there was still a long way to go.
‘Factional conflicts like this are a bad sign.’
Especially when disputes between departments like the Potion and Delivery teams persisted, they could eventually form factions.
For a budding organization like the White Tower, such divisions could cripple growth.
Oscar’s lips curled into a twisted smile.
‘If that ever happens, I won’t stand idly by.’
The White Tower had only reached this point because of his tireless efforts over the past few months.
He wouldn’t let it stagnate or regress because of petty factionalism.
“It looks like we need to deal with this issue first.”
“Mm. Do your best.”
“Why do you talk as if this doesn’t concern you?”
Oscar grinned at Hagor.
“Sorry to spring this on you as soon as we arrive, but let’s get to work right away.”
“What? I thought we were getting drinks first...”
“The situation is urgent, isn’t it? Once we’re done, I’ll make sure you can drink until you’re stuffed.”
Hagor trembled involuntarily.
For some reason, memories of being worked to the bone by Oscar Sage came flooding back.
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