The next day,
Ashley handed a special sigil to Dante and Kaen, granting them permission to roam freely within the Dwarven Kingdom, Járnheimr.
"Here are both your passes, Maladeva and your filthy slave."
Kaen hissed under her breath and scoffed, her ears twitching sharply in irritation. Her tail lashed once behind her as her eyes narrowed with open disdain.
Dante, on the other hand, merely took the sigil without a word. His expression did not change. He turned calmly and began walking toward the throne hall exit as if her insult carried no weight at all.
"Who does she think she is, nya?" Kaen sneered once they were out of earshot, her voice low but burning with anger.
"Relax. We got what we wanted. Now we can roam this kingdom however we please," Dante said stoically, his grip tightening slightly around the sigil before loosening again.
They moved through the markets of Járnheimr. The air smelled of iron, smoke, and roasted meat. Hammers rang rhythmically in the distance while merchants called out their wares. Yet despite the lively atmosphere, eyes followed them everywhere they went.
Dwarves paused mid-conversation. Some squinted. Others whispered. A few simply stared.
"They're looking at us weirdly," Kaen muttered, leaning slightly closer to Dante as if the crowd's gaze pressed against her skin.
"You can't complain there," Dante replied quietly. "It's been a century since the Great Hundred Year War. Dwarves age similarly to humans. From their gaze, I can tell only the past knows, while the current generation does not."
Kaen tilted her head slightly. "So they recognize you?"
"Not me," Dante answered. "But what I represent."
The two eventually made their way to the forgery chambers. The structure was carved deep within a snow-covered mountain.
Outside, the cold winds howled across the white expanse, but inside, controlled heat radiated from massive furnaces embedded into the stone walls.
It was the perfect place to escape the outstanding heat of raw forging flames while remaining protected from the harsh winter air.
Inside, sparks danced like fireflies.
There, they met the person in charge.
"Ah, you're that human Ashley mentioned," the head forger said, wiping soot from his hands onto a thick leather apron. His sharp eyes examined Dante carefully. "May I see Michael's sigil?"
"Good afternoon. Sorry for the trouble of letting us use your station," Dante replied with polite composure.
The head forger studied him for a long moment before Dante handed over the sigil. The dwarf inspected it carefully, grunting as he turned it in his calloused fingers.
"Tch. Fucking asshole. Can't believe he gave you, of all people, our kingdom's sigil."
Despite the insult, Dante did not react. His face remained calm, though his eyes sharpened almost imperceptibly.
The forger gestured for them to follow and led Dante as Maladeva and Kaen deeper into the station.
"As you can see, you two are by far the first human and beastman to ever enter here in a decade," the dwarf said as they walked past blazing furnaces and rows of anvils.
The air grew heavier with heat and the scent of molten metal.
"How was life before the Great Hundred Year War?" Dante asked, his voice steady yet curious.
The old forger slowed his steps. He let out a long sigh, the sound heavy with memory.
"It was peaceful, actually," he said, his tone softer now. "All races were united back then. Even the demon race lived in harmony. Until the gods waged war against us all, and the demon race united with the gods' aides."
Silence lingered between them, broken only by the crackling of fire.
"I'm sorry," Dante said sincerely.
"Don't be, young man," the old forger replied, waving a dismissive hand though his eyes betrayed lingering sorrow. "Not many talk about the Great War anymore. The younger generations don't give two damn shits about history."
"But I do, old man," Dante answered firmly. He stopped walking and looked straight ahead, his reflection faintly visible in the polished steel of a nearby blade.
"Knowledge is absolute. Knowledge is what makes us understand who we are. Without it, we would be nothing but mindless fools arguing over who reigns supreme."
The old forger paused. For a brief moment, something flickered in his hardened expression. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he turned away from them so they would not notice too clearly.
"Alright, you two," he grunted gruffly. "Here is your station."
He presented them with a spacious workstation complete with an anvil, furnace, quenching barrel, and racks of raw materials. Then he left without another word.
Kaen immediately stepped forward, her tail swaying with excitement as she examined the tools. "So what now, Master?" she asked, glancing back at him with bright, eager eyes.
"Huh? We are not doing the main thing now," Dante replied calmly as he removed his outer coat and folded it neatly to the side.
"It's been a few years since I've forged anything."
He looked down at his hands. Faint scars, old bruises, and thin cuts traced across his fingers and knuckles. Memories of long hours in forgery classes resurfaced. The sting of burns. The weight of hammers. The discipline. The pain.
His fingers slowly curled into fists.
For a moment, his expression hardened, then steadied.
"Let's get to work."
Kaen grinned, her ears perking up as she hurried to prepare the furnace, while Dante stepped toward the anvil, rolling his shoulders once before gripping the hammer. The fire roared to life, reflecting in his eyes as if awakening something long dormant within him.
Dante began forging, and soon the sharp rhythm of metal striking metal echoed through the chamber.
The ringing sound cut cleanly through the usual noise, steady and controlled. A few dwarves gradually slowed their own hammering. One by one, they paused, glancing toward the human working at the far station.
"What do you think he's forging?" one dwarf asked quietly, leaning toward his companion without taking his eyes off Dante.
"Bah, like I give two fucks about a human's greed," the other muttered, snorting. "They're all take and no bite."
Dante ignored them. His breathing was calm and measured. He adjusted the furnace heat carefully, watching the iron glow from dull red to bright orange.
With precise timing, he drew the heated metal out and placed it onto the anvil. Sparks burst outward as his hammer came down in firm, even strikes. Each blow shaped the metal deliberately, not wildly.
In ten minutes, a circular object began to take form.
He hammered the edges thinner, rotating the piece with tongs between strikes to maintain symmetry. Then, using a chisel and controlled force, he carved evenly spaced grooves along its outer edge.
"Nya, Master Maladeva, what is that circle thing?" Kaen asked curiously, crouching beside the workstation. Her ears twitched as she watched, her tail swaying slowly behind her like a fascinated cat observing prey.
"It's called a gearshift," Dante replied without looking up. "But it's not yet at its fullest. Hold down the iron and grab the water, Kaen."
Kaen immediately obeyed. She pressed the heated piece steady with metal clamps while handing him the quenching bucket.
Steam exploded upward as Dante dipped the glowing gear into water. The sharp hiss filled the air, and several dwarves flinched at the sudden burst of vapor.
Dante reheated the piece once more, refining the teeth carefully with smaller tools to ensure they were even and aligned. His eyes narrowed in concentration. Sweat slid down his temple, but he did not wipe it away.
As the minutes passed, he began forging additional components.
He flattened long rods of iron and bent them into curved shapes using the anvil's horn, forming the outer rims. He measured the width by eye, adjusting by instinct.
Once satisfied, he welded the ends together through repeated heating and hammering, sealing the circular frames seamlessly.
After an hour had passed, Dante forged a chain. He shaped small oval links individually, heating thin rods and bending them with pliers before sealing each link shut with precise taps of the hammer.
It was slow, repetitive work, but his hands moved with quiet familiarity. Once enough links were made, he joined them together, forming a flexible metal chain.
Then he aligned the chain with the gearshift and tested the rotation. It moved, but stiffly.
He adjusted it again.
Next, he cast his magic to pull out a large bundle of cotton from his storage space. The sudden appearance of the material drew murmurs from nearby dwarves. Dante paid them no mind. He wrapped the cotton tightly around the outer rims, layering it thickly.
With a needle he forged on the spot, he began sewing neatly, reinforcing the cotton around the metal frame. His fingers moved with unexpected delicacy, pulling thread tight and tying firm knots.
Then he pulled out sheets of rubber from his storage magic. Holding them carefully, he applied controlled heat to soften the material without melting it entirely.
With focused precision, he layered the rubber over the cotton-wrapped rims, pressing and smoothing it down until it formed solid, rounded wheels.
He left them briefly near controlled heat to cure and harden.
Afterward, Dante assembled the contraption.
He forged a straight metal frame, connecting the two wheels with a central support. He attached the gearshift to the rear wheel hub, aligning the chain carefully between the front and back gears.
He crafted pedals and secured them to a rotating crank. Then he added a simple seat, padded lightly with leftover cotton and wrapped in cloth.
Finally, he forged a narrow handlebar and connected it to the front wheel using a pivot joint, allowing it to turn.
The dwarves had fully stopped working now. A small crowd gathered silently behind him.
Dante tightened the final bolt and stepped back.
"Nya… what is this vehicle?" Kaen asked, circling it slowly with wide eyes.
"It's more like a children's toy," Dante replied calmly, wiping soot from his hands with a cloth. "But I can make an adult version. Consider this me remembering the basics. Plus, it's a prototype."
The dwarves murmured among themselves.
Dante swung one leg over the frame and sat down carefully. He placed his feet on the pedals and pushed forward.
The chain rotated.
The gears clicked smoothly.
The wheels rolled.
The contraption moved across the stone floor.
"Nya! Master, it works!" Kaen exclaimed, clapping her hands excitedly as her tail puffed slightly with joy.
Dante rode in a small circle, adjusting his balance. The bicycle wobbled once before stabilizing as he found the rhythm.
"Wanna try, Kaen?" he asked, stopping in front of her.
Kaen nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. She stepped forward, gripping the handlebars with both hands, ears perked high.
At that moment, several dwarven children who had been peeking from behind pillars slowly approached.
Their eyes were wide with wonder. One small child finally mustered the courage to step forward and tug gently at Dante's pants.
"Mister… is that a toy?"
Dante looked down at the little dwarf child who had tugged on his pants. The boy's eyes were wide with curiosity, staring at the strange contraption with pure excitement.
Dante crouched down and gently lifted the child up.
"Careful," Dante said calmly as he placed the boy onto the seat.
The child wobbled immediately, gripping the handlebars with tiny hands.
Dante paused for a moment, then nodded to himself.
"Hold on."
He quickly grabbed spare metal rods and small wheels from nearby scrap. With swift, practiced movements, he heated the rods and bent them into shape. Sparks flew again as he hammered quickly, attaching two smaller support wheels to the rear frame.
Within minutes, the bicycle now had three supporting wheels.
"Try now," Dante said.
The child pushed the pedals nervously at first.
The wheels turned.
The bicycle rolled forward steadily.
The little dwarf gasped with delight as he pedaled across the stone floor, laughter echoing through the forge chamber.
"Nya! He's riding it!" Kaen exclaimed, her ears twitching with excitement.
The boy kept going, slowly gaining confidence as he rode out of the forging chamber and toward the market streets outside.
Soon, dwarves in the market began noticing the strange sight.
A small dwarf child riding a metal contraption with spinning wheels.
"What in the forge is that?" one merchant asked.
"Oi, boy! Where did you get that?" another shouted.
The child proudly puffed his chest.
"A human made it!" he declared loudly. "A human named Maladeva! He forged it with his feline slave!"
The market grew noisy immediately.
"A human forged that?"
"Impossible!"
"Where is he?"
Before long, a crowd of dwarves marched toward the forgery station.
Back inside the chamber, Dante was adjusting the gear alignment on another frame when the doors suddenly burst open.
Dozens of dwarves rushed inside.
"I want one!"
"Make one for my boy!"
"I'll pay double for two!"
"Nya!!!!!?" Kaen yelped, her tail puffing up as dwarves surrounded them from all sides. "Too many customers!!!!"
Dante blinked slowly, looking around at the overwhelming crowd.
"Sigh… guess I did it again, huh?"
He raised his hand and snapped his fingers.
Dark shadows rippled across the ground.
From them, his shadow soldiers emerged silently.
"You lot know what to do," Dante said calmly. "Grab that steel and forge with me."
The shadow soldiers moved immediately, gathering materials and heating furnaces.
Soon the entire station roared with activity.
Metal rang against anvils. Chains clinked together. Fires roared brighter.
Dante worked at the center, forging frames with swift efficiency while demonstrating each step.
"Heat the rod until orange," he instructed one group. "Bend it slowly, don't force the curve."
He moved to another station.
"The chain links must be evenly sized or the gears will slip."
More bicycles began forming.
Adult-sized frames.
Smaller children's versions.
Three-wheeled designs for beginners.
As the workload intensified, several dwarves from the station glanced at each other.
Then one stepped forward.
"Move aside, human. You're hammering too slow."
Another grabbed a chain.
"Oi, pass me that gear mold."
Soon more dwarves joined in.
The station transformed into a massive collaborative forge.
"My… when was the last time we all came together like this?" one dwarf muttered while inserting a chain into a newly finished bicycle.
"It's been ages," another replied, tightening a gear plate.
Dante moved between them, calmly teaching step by step.
"Secure the pedals here."
"Balance the wheel before tightening the axle."
"Add padding to the seat or children will complain."
He even demonstrated simple safety gear.
Leather elbow guards.
Knee pads.
Basic helmets reinforced with light metal plating.
The dwarves followed his instructions, improving the designs with their own craftsmanship.
Laughter and shouting echoed through the forge.
Meanwhile, the noise eventually reached the royal throne hall.
A guard hurried inside, kneeling before Ashley.
"Your Majesty… there is a disturbance at the forgery stations."
Ashley raised an eyebrow. "What disturbance?"
The guard hesitated.
"That human… Maladeva… he is… making some kind of wheeled contraption."
Ashley stared at him.
"What?"
"Half the forgers in the station are helping him now."
Ashley slowly stood up from her throne.
"You're telling me," she said coldly, "that he wasted his first day to make contraptions of nonsense?!"
She slammed her fist onto the desk with a loud crack.
Documents scattered across the surface.
"Either he is wasting my kingdom's resources," she growled, her eyes burning with frustration, "or he is playing a fool on us dwarves."
Her jaw tightened.
"And I do not like either possibility."
---
Chapter 51 — End