Linda blinked, her face softening.
"And also," Nolan continued, "you’ve been telling to visit your tribe, right? Well, after we return to the village, we’ll go. I don’t know where it is, so you’ll lead the way."
Linda’s eyes widened in excitent.
"R-Really, Master!? Thank you!" She practically leaped forward, hugging his arm.
Nolan chuckled softly. "Easy, easy."
"The elves will be honored to et you," Linda said proudly. "Well... they don’t really like humans, but if it’s soone really strong, they’ll be happy—very happy."
"Is that so?" Nolan asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Yes, that’s—"
"Alright, that’s enough!" Celia suddenly rushed forward and grabbed Linda by the collar, pulling her back. "Stop trying to monopolize Master already!"
"H-Hey, Celia! Let go!" Linda protested as she was dragged away.
Nolan could only smile at the sight of the two bickering.
"But Master... what could be the reason you want to go to the Elf Territory?" Lyra asked, tilting her head with concern. "They strongly dislike humans. They respect powerful beings, yes... but even then, Master, the Elf Tribe isn’t a place humans should casually enter. Like I told you—the elves hate when humans discover their territory or learn anything about their tribe."
Nolan nodded calmly.
"Yes, I know. And that’s exactly one of the reasons I’m going."
Lyra blinked. "What...?"
"Elves are the best in the world at crafting Healing Potions," Nolan said. "The absolute best. And I already told you—I want to beco a rchant. I can’t let all this money I have just sit there doing nothing. I want to invest it, multiply it, and build sothing bigger."
His eyes glead with ambition.
"To run the future Kingdom, elves are going to be an important piece. I’ve already decided: the dwarves will craft my armor and weapons... and the elves will make Healing Potions for . I’ll sell them to adventurers, rcenaries, anyone who needs them."
Linda squinted at him.
"Hey, Master... what do you an? I thought you wanted to visit the Elf Tribe because I asked you to."
Nolan smiled.
"Yes. That’s also part of it. I’m going because you want to go too."
Linda crossed her arms, satisfied but still pouting a little.
"Master... what about ?" Celia asked softly.
Nolan turned to her.
"You told your family died... and that you have nowhere to return to."
Celia lowered her gaze, silent.
Nolan stepped closer and placed his hand gently on her head.
Lyra stepped forward, her long silver hair swaying as her eyes hardened. The air in the room stilled—whenever she was serious, even the temperature seed to drop.
"Master..." Lyra said quietly. "I have advice you must take seriously."
Nolan looked up from the table. "What is it?"
Lyra stepped closer, her silver hair swaying.
"Master... I advise you to place soone trustworthy here," she said, voice calm but edged with concern. "Even if you saved the Dwarf Kingdom from the demons, many still oppose the idea of a human walking freely with this much authority."
Her eyes narrowed sharply, like a seasoned scout reporting to her commander.
"And according to the intel I gathered today," she continued, "several dwarves believe they should be king. Yet soon, they’re going to ask you to take the crown."
She paused, watching Nolan.
"But many won’t accept that. They still don’t like humans."
The room fell silent.
Nolan let out a long breath, leaning back as if the weight of the kingdom pressed against his shoulders.
"Well," he said with a faint smirk, "it’s fine. I never planned to be king anyway. They can choose whoever they want. I’m not taking responsibility for a whole kingdom—absolutely not."
He waved his hand dismissively.
"I just want stable trade. That’s all."
Then he snapped his fingers lightly, rembering.
"Oh right—Damian. The scale. I paid the dwarves for forging my new sword. They said they need a dragon scale and the head of a chira."
Damian stepped forward slowly.
The atmosphere shifted.
His eyes glowed faintly—gold flickering like embers.
A quiet rumble vibrated the air around him, as though sothing ancient awoke beneath his skin.
Nolan smiled. "Now, now... go on. Show it."
Damian spread his hand wide.
WHOOSH!
A burst of wind spiraled outward as a massive shimring scale materialized in his palm. It glowed with a deep crimson and obsidian sheen, like molten lava frozen in ti—thick, jagged, and rippling with raw power.
Heat radiated from it, warping the air.
Lyra stepped back instinctively.
Even the stone floor beneath Damian cracked slightly under the pressure.
"They asked for ten," Damian said quietly, his voice rumbling with draconic undertones. "But one of my scales is more than enough. This is one of my smallest."
His eyes narrowed seriously.
"But... crafting with it won’t be easy."
Nolan stared at the scale with a grin forming across his face.
"Perfect. Just keep it aside for now. Once everything is ready, we’ll hand it over to them together."
As the tension faded, Damian closed his hand, the scale vanishing with a pulse of dark fla.
Knock. Knock.
Everyone turned.
"Yes, co in," Nolan called out casually.
The heavy wooden door creaked open, and the female dwarf maid peeked in.
Her cheeks were bright red, her hands fiddling nervously with her apron.
"Sir... I-I said you all should co down," she murmured politely.
"Your al is prepared."
Then, realizing Damian and Lyra were watching her, she bowed so fast her head nearly hit the floor.
"I-I’ll be waiting downstairs!" she stamred, then backed out quickly, almost tripping over the door fra.
The door shut with a soft thud.
Nolan sighed, stretching his arms above his head.
"Well," he said with a relaxed grin, "shall we eat?"
Damian chuckled.
Lyra smiled faintly despite her earlier seriousness.
"I think we should all go and eat," Nolan said, stretching his arms with a tired grin. "Let’s go down."
Everyone nodded.
The mont they stepped into the wide spiral staircase, warm air drifted upward — the sll of roasted at, sizzling fat, and dwarven spices hitting them like a wave. Their footsteps echoed as they descended into the grand dining hall.
When they reached the bottom—
Their eyes widened instantly.
The huge stone dining table stretched almost ten ters across the room, carved with dwarven runes glowing faintly along its edges. And on top of it—
Mountains of food.
Piles of roasted wolf at, thick slabs of boar, fried chicken stacked like towers, whole beasts glazed with honey, bowls of steaming stew, and huge kegs of ale.
Nolan blinked twice.
"Wow... this is actually huge," he said softly.
He stepped forward slowly, unable to hide his surprise.
"A huge dining table... filled with this much food? at? Chicken? Even the sll is enough to knock soone out."
Lyra laughed lightly.
"Yes, Master... even I didn’t expect THIS much."
Damian’s eyes were sparkling like a child handed his favorite toy.
"Yes! I can’t wait to dig in!" he shouted excitedly.
Nolan elbowed him gently.
"Hey, try to behave yourself," he muttered, though he was smiling.
At the far end of the table stood the two dwarven maids — stiff, nervous, hands clasped, staring at Nolan and the others like they were gods descending from the sky.
Nolan sighed and gestured with his hand.
"Co on, all of you. Sit. Relax."
Only then did everyone move.
Chairs scraped, plates shifted, and finally—
they all took their seats.
Damian didn’t waste a second.
He grabbed the nearest plate and began eating at a terrifying speed.
"Ti to EAT!" he declared, mouth already full.
Lyra stared at him.
"Damian... at least chew."
But she soon gave up and began eating too.
Celia picked up a roasted wing, sniffed it, and imdiately bit into it with shining eyes.
"Mmm! It’s so good!"
Linda tried a piece of smoked at and her ears twitched happily.
"Master... this is incredible. I didn’t think dwarves could cook this well."
Nolan cut a thick slice of roasted boar, tasted it...
His eyes widened slightly.
"Wow... you both are actually outstanding chefs," he said, looking at the two dwarf maids.
The dwarves instantly bowed, cheeks red with pride.
"Thank you, sir! We are honored you like it!" one said.
"We worked all day on this!" the other added.
"It’s an honor to serve the savior of our kingdom!"
Nolan nodded and continued eating, savoring every flavor.
The at lted in his mouth.
The chicken was perfectly crispy.
The spices were rich, deep, and full of dwarven style.
Even the stew tasted like sothing from an ancient recipe passed down through centuries.
Linda kept eating as she watched the huge table.
"This feast... it’s actually bigger than I expected," she said softly, almost overwheld.
Linda wiped a bit of oil from her lips and looked at Nolan with a teasing glint in her eyes.
"Master... you’re eating boar," she said, pointing at the thick roasted slice on Nolan’s plate. "And don’t forget—your favorite Tad beast is boar. A boar, Zuru. You always say that."
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