Five years had passed since Ashtir showed me how to forge a sword. The Zweihänder he created using the clay model I made had become one of his most prized possessions. Ironically, the greatest weapon he had ever forged was practically useless to him. He was always too occupied managing the forge to actually wield it, so it mostly sat inside the living room on an elegant stand beside the set of silverish-gray ingots we had created together years ago.
For the past few years, they had been experimenting with those silverish-gray ingots, trying to recreate them and figure out how to properly work with the material. From what I heard, tempering it was extremely difficult. Sometimes the metal became too brittle, while other times it became absurdly durable. There was never anything in between. According to Ashtir, they had discovered tons of similar ingots hidden within old storage sites and abandoned forge sections across the mountains, but even the best smiths could barely leave a scratch on them.
They also discovered that parts of the forge systems scattered throughout all three occupied mountains were built using the same material.
For the past five years, I had mostly focused on learning about this new world through books stored within the mountains. Unfortunately, most written records only went back around five hundred years. There were older books, but huge portions of information were either missing or incomplete. The biggest mystery was the strange markings often illustrated on ancient tools, weapons, and machines. The books referenced them repeatedly, yet none properly explained what they were.
To celebrate my eighth year in this world, even if it technically was not my birthday, Ashtir finally decided to take me outside the mountain tunnels and into the town itself.
From what I understood, the settlement was built around four mountains positioned north, south, east, and west of the central valley. The northern mountain was abandoned. I tried searching through books to learn more about it, but there was almost no information regarding its history. Whenever I asked Ashtir about it, he simply said that it had already been abandoned long before he was born.
Apparently, most dwarves avoided the northern mountain entirely.
According to them, approaching the area caused strange discomfort. Some people experienced headaches while others described an unnatural sense of fear whenever they got too close.
The western mountain, where we lived, mainly focused on smelting and ingot production. While some forging still took place there, most finished weapons and specialized equipment were crafted elsewhere. The western mountain was known as Grayhorn Mountain.
The residents of each mountain carried tattoos on their right arms identifying where they belonged. The symbol of Grayhorn Mountain was a cauldron bearing the face of a dwarf with horns extending from both sides. Apparently, Ashtir governed most of the western mountain, acting as both an elder and something similar to a mayor.
The eastern mountain was much smaller than the western side. According to the books I had read, massive openings above the mountain created natural ventilation similar to volcanic vents. The forge systems there burned much hotter than normal, making it ideal for crafting weapons and high-durability tools.
Maybe the stronger airflow was responsible for the increased temperatures. More oxygen usually meant stronger combustion. Though if Earth science still applied here, too much oxygen near fire could become extremely dangerous.
The eastern district was called Dragon’s Breath Mountain.
Apparently, dragons actually existed in this world.
Even with the intense heat of Dragon’s Breath Mountain, however, the smiths there still could not properly forge the mysterious silverish-gray ingots recovered from the Magma Ox Forge.
The southern mountain was known as the Aegis Mountain. Unlike the other mountains, it stretched across the southern side of the settlement like a massive defensive wall. Most soldier barracks and garrisons were stationed there.
The forges within Aegis Mountain specialized in producing disposable military equipment such as arrows, bolts, spears, and javelins. Multiple gigantic ballistae were mounted across the mountain walls overlooking the surrounding terrain. The weapons were made from a strange bluish-black metal similar to some of the ancient materials scattered throughout the settlement.
Oddly enough, nobody knew when those ballistae were originally built.
According to the records, they had simply always existed.
At the center of the mountains rested a large valley serving as the heart of the settlement. Markets, storage facilities, parks, and guild buildings were all built there. Food, tools, clothing, weapons, and everyday necessities were sold throughout the valley marketplace.
Apparently, the settlement also maintained multiple guilds. There were guilds dedicated to hunters, gatherers, production workers, craftsmen, and even adventurers.
I really was living in a fantasy world.
Hunters usually operated along the eastern and western wilderness while gatherers focused on farming, berry collection, and maintaining the valley’s food supply.
The valley truly was the center of the entire mountain settlement.
---
Ashtir and Sera eventually brought me down into the valley town itself.
Our first stop was a restaurant.
Well…
Calling it a restaurant felt inaccurate.
It was closer to a tavern.
Large beer barrels were stacked along the walls while nearly every table was occupied by loud dwarves drinking cloudy mugs of alcohol. Laughter echoed throughout the building while servers moved between tables carrying absurd amounts of food and drinks.
The entire place felt alive.
Instead of barrels of beer, however, our own table was quickly covered with food.
One massive roasted boar.
Four whole roasted turkeys.
A giant pot of stew.
An entire wheel of cheese.
Vegetables.
Bread.
Enough food to feed an army.
“HAHAHAHA! Ashtir! Did you rob the eastern granary again?!”
A heavily bearded dwarf from the neighboring table pointed toward our food while laughing loudly.
“As if I need to rob them,” Ashtir replied proudly. “The west mountain pays well when your ingots don’t explode!”
The surrounding tables burst into laughter.
“That only happened twice!”
“Three times!”
“THE THIRD ONE WAS NOT MY FAULT!”
A nearby waitress carrying three mugs in one hand sighed.
“It was definitely his fault.”
More laughter exploded throughout the tavern.
“Ashvir,” Sera said while slicing meat from the roasted boar, “eat slowly. You’re not fighting anyone for the food.”
“But Mother,” I replied while staring at the turkey leg in front of me, “I think the food is fighting me.”
Ashtir slammed the table while laughing.
“THAT’S MY SON!”
Nearby dwarves immediately raised their mugs.
“That’s definitely Ashtir’s child!”
“He already sounds like a drunk forge worker!”
“Hahaha!”
A smaller dwarf leaned toward our table curiously.
“So this is the famous child?”
“The famous child?” I asked.
Ashtir puffed his chest proudly.
“Of course! The future ruler of Grayhorn Mountain!”
Sera immediately kicked him beneath the table.
“Ow!”
“Stop putting pressure on him,” Sera said calmly.
“I’m motivating him!”
“You introduced him as your successor before he even learned multiplication.”
“Leadership starts young!”
Another dwarf nearby nodded seriously.
“That’s true.”
“You named your son Hammer.”
“And he became a great blacksmith!”
“Hammer became a baker.”
“…A GREAT baker.”
The tavern erupted into laughter once again.
As the noise continued around me, I quietly looked across the tavern.
Dwarves singing loudly.
Hunters bragging about their catches.
Blacksmiths arguing over forging techniques.
Servers carrying enough alcohol to drown entire villages.
For the first time since arriving in this world…
This mountain city truly felt alive.
---
After eating, Ashtir and Sera brought me toward the plaza where most families spent their afternoons. Compared to the noisy tavern, the atmosphere there felt calmer. Children ran across the open grounds while adults relaxed on benches and chatted with one another.
It had been a long time since I had seen children around my age.
Well…
My body’s age at least.
“Ashvir,” Sera said while adjusting my collar, “stay here for a little while, alright? Your father and I need to buy something.”
“We’ll be back soon,” Ashtir added. “Try talking to other children for once instead of reading books all day.”
“I do other things too.”
“Thinking about metals does not count.”
“It absolutely counts.”
Ashtir laughed loudly before patting my head.
“See? You already sound like an old forge master.”
Sera sighed.
“That’s because he spends too much time with you.”
“That sounds like a compliment.”
“It wasn’t.”
After they left, I looked around the plaza.
Some children were building castles out of sand.
Others built miniature forts using stones and sticks.
A few older children ran around fighting with wooden swords while another group attempted to recreate a ballista using random scraps nearby.
Honestly…
It looked surprisingly advanced.
“You’re building the wall wrong!”
“No I’m not!”
“If goblins attack from the east, the entire fort collapses!”
“Then I’ll put more rocks there!”
“That’s not strategy! That’s cheating!”
A child suddenly pointed toward me.
“Hey! It’s Ashvir!”
The others immediately turned.
“The weird tall kid?”
“The blacksmith elder’s son?”
“The one that reads all day?”
…Why did they all know me?
One of the children stepped forward confidently.
“My name is Dorrim. Want to help us build the fortress?”
I looked toward the half-finished sand fortress beside them.
The walls were uneven.
The tower placements were terrible.
And the defensive layout made absolutely no sense.
…Why was I analyzing a sandcastle like a military engineer?
Still…
It actually looked fun.
---
Dorrim shoved another rock into the side of the sand fortress before stepping back proudly.
“There,” he declared confidently while placing both hands on his waist. “Now the wall is stronger.”
I stared at the structure in silence.
The left side leaned outward.
One of the towers was slowly sinking into the sand.
And the gate…
There was not even a proper gate.
“…It’s crooked.”
“It’s tactical.”
“How is falling apart tactical?”
“If enemies climb the wall and it collapses, they fall too.”
I blinked.
“…That’s actually not completely stupid.”
“Hah!” Dorrim pointed at me proudly. “See? Ashvir understands!”
One of the nearby children groaned loudly.
“No he doesn’t!”
“You said the same thing last week before your fort collapsed!”
“That was because Gorrin sat on the tower!”
A larger child holding a wooden stick immediately protested.
“I DIDN’T KNOW IT WAS STILL WET!”
The entire group burst into laughter.
Dorrim grabbed another handful of wet sand before shoving it toward me.
“Come on, help us build.”
“I’ve never built a sand fortress before.”
“What?”
He looked genuinely horrified.
“You’ve never built a fortress?”
“I read books.”
“That sounds boring.”
“…It’s not.”
“It sounds boring.”
Another child suddenly pointed at me.
“He probably studies forts from books instead of actually making them.”
“That’s even worse.”
I sighed before crouching beside the half-finished fortress.
Up close, it looked even worse than before.
The foundations were shallow.
The walls were uneven.
And the defensive layout made absolutely no sense.
“Wait,” I said while pointing toward one of the towers. “Why is the tower outside the wall?”
“So archers can shoot better.”
“But enemies can surround the tower immediately.”
The children froze.
“…Oh.”
“And this side has no protection.”
“We were gonna build another wall there.”
“There’s no space left.”
“…Oh.”
I stared at the fortress for a few more seconds before grabbing a stick and drawing lines into the sand.
“If you move the tower here,” I explained, “you can see both sides at once.”
The children slowly gathered around me.
“And if the walls curve inward slightly near the entrance, attackers can get trapped once they push inside.”
Dorrim blinked.
“…That’s smart.”
Another child looked genuinely shocked.
“You can do that?”
“I think so.”
Honestly, I was mostly copying castle layouts and fortification diagrams I vaguely remembered from books and documentaries back on Earth.
Still…
The children immediately became focused.
“Bring more sand!”
“We need flatter rocks!”
“Not that one! That rock looks stupid!”
“Gorrin! Stop eating the bread!”
“I’M HUNGRY!”
For the next several minutes, we worked together rebuilding the entire fortress.
The children carried sand and rocks while I adjusted the layout.
Dorrim handled most of the wall shaping.
Surprisingly enough, he was actually pretty good at it once someone gave him proper directions.
“There!” Dorrim shouted proudly after placing the final rock. “NOW that looks like a real fortress!”
The rebuilt structure looked significantly better than before. Curved outer walls protected the entrance while two towers overlooked both sides of the fort. Small trenches surrounded the outer edge while a raised mound at the center acted as the keep.
Honestly…
It looked way too advanced for a group of children.
The kids stared proudly at their work like master architects presenting a legendary fortress.
“We’re geniuses.”
“We should build a real one someday.”
“We’d probably get arrested.”
“…True.”
Dorrim suddenly crouched beside me before lowering his voice dramatically.
“Hey… Ashvir.”
“What?”
“You wanna see something cool?”
“…That sentence usually leads to bad decisions.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing.”
He glanced around cautiously before leaning closer.
“We have a secret castle.”
A nearby child immediately panicked.
“Dorrim! You can’t just tell people!”
“Why not?”
“What if he tells the adults?!”
“He won’t,” Dorrim said confidently. “Smart people don’t snitch.”
“…That logic makes no sense.”
Dorrim ignored me completely before pointing toward the northern side of the valley.
“There’s an old tunnel there.”
The atmosphere around the children immediately became quieter.
One of them frowned nervously.
“My brother said we’re not supposed to go there anymore.”
“That’s because adults are cowards,” Dorrim whispered dramatically.
“They say weird things happen near that mountain.”
Another child nodded quickly.
“My father said the place gives him headaches.”
“My uncle said he heard voices there once.”
“That’s fake.”
“No it’s not!”
“Yes it is!”
“Then why did your brother run away crying last winter?!”
“…Because it was dark!”
The group immediately burst into laughter again.
Dorrim turned back toward me excitedly.
“Anyway, we found an old place near the tunnels.”
“A really old place.”
“There are broken walls, weird doors, old rooms…”
Another child puffed his chest proudly.
“We even built a hideout there.”
“And traps!” another added proudly.
“…What kind of traps?”
“Rock traps.”
“…That still sounds dangerous.”
“They’re small rocks.”
“That doesn’t make it better.”
Dorrim suddenly grinned.
“So?”
“You wanna join us?”
I looked toward the distant northern mountain.
The abandoned mountain.
The place adults avoided.
The same place connected to missing records, strange headaches, and ancient ruins.
Then I looked back toward the excited children waiting for my answer.
Honestly…
I was curious.