Dante and Kaen were escorted as esteemed guests through the heart of the Dwarven Kingdom by the ruling monarch herself, Queen Ashley Orochi.
The procession moved steadily along the stone-paved streets, the rhythmic clang of armored boots echoing against the ancient walls. On both sides, dwarven citizens halted their work.
Blacksmiths paused mid-strike, merchants leaned out from their stalls, and guards standing by straightened instinctively as the Queen passed.
Confusion and curiosity rippled through the crowd as countless eyes followed Dante and Kaen.
Whispers spread like wildfire. Children tugged at their parents' sleeves, pointing openly and asking who these outsiders were and why they were allowed to walk so close to the Queen.
Parents hushed them quickly, though many shared the same puzzled expressions.
Dante observed everything in silence, his gaze sharp and calculating as he took in the fortified architecture and the wary stares. After a moment, he spoke calmly, his voice cutting through the low murmurs.
"Well, it has been a century. No wonder your kind knows nothing of the outside world, Your Highness."
Queen Ashley did not stop walking. Her expression remained composed, though her eyes hardened slightly at his words.
"A hero sacrifices everything to protect the people," she replied evenly. "I, on the other hand, will not hesitate to lock them away and build walls around them if that is what it takes to keep them safe. Do you deny my method, Maladeva?"
Dante turned his head slightly toward her, his footsteps never faltering.
"Half of it," he answered. "Protecting your people is true. But the other half, ruling through isolation and fear, I beg to differ."
The air grew tense, but neither pushed the matter further.
Soon, the towering gates of the castle opened before them. The group entered the inner halls, where torches burned with steady flames and carved pillars told stories of ancient wars.
Servants bowed deeply as the Queen led Dante and Kaen to their assigned chambers.
"For now, you may stay," Ashley Orochi said, her tone formal but not unkind. "You are free to roam the kingdom, excluding restricted areas. Once you are well rested, we shall speak in private. Both of you, Maladeva and Kaen."
With that, she turned and departed, her bodyguards following closely behind, their armor clinking softly as they disappeared down the corridor.
Moments after the door closed, Kaen entered Dante's room. Her feline ears twitched uneasily, and her tail flicked back and forth in clear agitation. She stood near the doorway, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.
"Nya, Master," she said softly but firmly. "I do not like her."
Dante glanced at her briefly while setting his belongings down, his expression indifferent.
"Do I care?" he replied. "I am only interested in learning how to forge the slab I carry. Nothing else here matters."
Kaen hesitated, then stepped closer, her voice lowering with uncertainty.
"But Master, are you perhaps the rumored Alderman?"
Dante stopped what he was doing and finally looked at her properly. Seeing the confusion and concern in her eyes, he exhaled slowly.
"No," he said simply. "I am not."
He straightened, his presence calm but heavy with unspoken history.
"I am just Maladeva, Kaen."
The room fell silent, the distant sounds of the Dwarven Kingdom echoing faintly beyond the stone walls.
As Kaen returned to her own chamber, Dante stood alone in the quiet of his room. With a subtle motion of his hand, shadows pooled at his feet.
Five shadow soldiers were cast forth.
They emerged one after another, their forms entirely black and blue, their bodies half-solid, half-smoke.
A fog-like mist clung to them, drifting unnaturally as if alive. The temperature in the room dropped slightly as their presence stabilized.
"The five of you," Dante commanded calmly, his voice low, "roam the streets. Every house, every building, every place. Including restricted areas."
The shadow soldiers lowered their heads in silent acknowledgment. Their bodies compressed, twisting inward until each became a small, writhing, sperm-like form of condensed shadow.
In an instant, they slipped through cracks, shadows, and stone alike, scattering throughout the Dwarven Kingdom to gather intelligence for their master.
As evening approached, the faint glow of torchlight filtered through the window. Dante emerged from the bath, water still clinging to his skin as steam rose around him. He exhaled deeply, running a hand through his damp hair.
"Sigh. At least the water here is warm and nice."
Before he could relax further, a knock echoed against the door.
Dante opened it casually, only to find Queen Ashley Orochi standing before him. Her eyes immediately took in his half-naked state, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist.
She raised a brow, unimpressed.
"Do you mind putting some clothes on for decency, dear guest?"
"Ah, sorry," Dante replied without much concern. "I thought it was my slave, Kaen."
Dante could clearly see a migraine forming on Ashley's forehead. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she turned away slightly.
"Come to the main hall," she said sharply. "The meeting is about to begin."
She turned and left without another word. Moments later, her bodyguard fell into step beside her as they walked down the corridor.
"Anything useful on him, Ultear?" Ashley asked quietly.
The bodyguard shook her head.
"Your Highness, there is nothing on Maladeva. Except…"
Ashley stopped walking.
"Except what?"
"Well… there is a rumor circulating in Vidalier," Ultear hesitated. "It claims an adventurer killed a hero who was destined to slay the Demon King."
Ashley turned sharply.
"The Demon Clan? Impossible. They are sealed."
"No, Your Highness. The information was confirmed. Seven years ago, the Demon Clan made their appearance during a raid on the Ruthwilfer household, during a banquet."
Ashley froze.
"Seven years ago…?!"
"Yes, Your Majesty. They were defeated by a child named Dante Ruthwilfer. He was the one who drove them back. However, on the sixth year after that, a tragedy occurred."
"What tragedy?" Ashley asked, her tone tense.
"There was an invasion at the Academy where all races study," Ultear explained.
"Including our own kind, under special hidden supervision to ensure no one discovered us. During the incident, an elven girl named Lytharis Milan was revealed to possess an extremely rare mana foundation. The Infinity Mana Foundation."
Ashley scanned the reports as they continued toward the meeting hall. Her eyes moved line by line until one word caught her attention.
Deceased.
"She's dead?" Ashley asked quietly.
"Yes, Your Majesty. She sacrificed herself by tearing open her own chest and transferring her foundation to Dante Ruthwilfer."
Ashley stopped again.
"Dante Ruthwilfer… son of?"
"Will Ruthwilfer," Ultear replied. "The current Patriarch of the Ruthwilfer household."
Ashley said nothing more as they resumed walking, her expression unreadable as the doors to the main hall loomed ahead.
"Why would she give her foundation to a mere boy?" Ashley asked, her voice low but sharp.
Ultear Pendagon paused for a brief moment before answering, choosing her words carefully.
"Apparently, Your Majesty, Dante Ruthwilfer was born manaless."
Ashley halted mid-step. The echo of her boots against the stone floor faded as she slowly turned to Ultear, disbelief flashing across her face.
"You are telling me," Ashley said, her voice rising, "that a manaless boy, seven years ago, at the age of nine, defeated one of the worst demons recorded? Lustia, the Sinner of Lust?"
Her words rang loudly throughout the hall, bouncing off the towering pillars and vaulted ceiling.
Ultear nodded without hesitation, her expression serious.
"Yes, Your Majesty. The reports are consistent. Despite having no mana at birth, he demonstrated abnormal combat efficiency. It appears he possesses an extraordinary aptitude for forgery."
Ashley clenched her fingers slightly, her brows knitting together.
"Forgery?" she repeated.
"Even Michael of the Ruthwilfer household spoke highly of him," Ultear continued. "Michael is half-dwarven, though he has concealed it carefully throughout his life. He rarely praises anyone. Yet his words regarding Dante Ruthwilfer were… exceptional."
Ultear reached into her documents and pulled out a thick folder, handing it to Ashley as they resumed walking. Ashley opened it, her eyes scanning unfamiliar lines and strange diagrams.
She stopped again.
"What is this pointy thing?" Ashley asked, tapping the illustration with her finger.
Ultear leaned closer, her tone steady.
"This is a design Michael sent to us. It was sketched by Dante Ruthwilfer himself."
Ashley stared at the drawing longer this time. The unfamiliar shape, the mechanical precision, the sheer intent behind the design unsettled her.
Her grip tightened on the folder.
Her eyes drifted to the top right corner of the blueprint, where a single word was written in clean, deliberate lettering.
Handgun.
"Handgun?" Ashley repeated quietly.
She continued flipping through the plans, page after page, her expression shifting from curiosity to disbelief. Each diagram revealed something more absurd than the last.
One page depicted a mechanical snake, its segmented body designed to move with terrifying precision.
Another illustrated a massive cannon, followed by designs for missiles and bombs, each more destructive than the last.
Then came machines not meant for war.
Bicycles. Motorbikes. Engines. Complex systems of gears and propulsion unlike anything the dwarves had ever conceived.
Ashley slowed her movements, carefully studying each drawing as if afraid the ideas might vanish if she blinked. Her fingers trembled slightly as she turned the final page.
"Never in my life have I seen designs like these," she said softly. "So full of ideas… all conceived by a mere manaless boy."
She exhaled slowly, closing the plans.
"This Dante," she continued, her voice firm now, "is a made prodigy of forgery."
The folder snapped shut, and at last they arrived before the towering doors of the meeting hall. Ashley straightened her posture, her expression hardening into that of a ruler. With a steady push, she opened the doors.
Her gaze swept across the chamber.
Elders sat in silence along both the left and right sides of the hall, their aged eyes sharp and calculating. Stone thrones carved with ancient runes lined the room, the weight of history pressing down upon the space.
Moments passed.
Then the doors opened once more.
Dante entered calmly, his presence composed and unreadable. Kaen followed closely at his side, her ears flicking slightly as she sensed the tension in the room. Every eye turned toward them as their footsteps echoed across the stone floor.
They took their places.
And so, the meeting began.
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Chapter 49 — End