CHAPTER 6: A WARNING

***The northern shores of the western region of Cherhom, somewhere facing the sea…***

A lone red plane traveled through the thick cloud cover that slowly approached the mountain of Montserrant. It headed away from the dwarf city, intending to land at the grassy strip between the mountain peaks, past the crusader camps to its east. Evading the northerner squadrons patrolling the skies above the crusader tents, soon, it reached its destination and two passengers alighted.

“Your Majesty, you can hide the plane here,” the taller figure told his companion, to which the other obliged. Together, they pushed the machine to a copse of trees that obscured its bright red painting from the crusaders from above.

After that, the pilot took her axe from the plane compartment, and donned her robe’s hood. Like the one worn by the taller individual, it was of green color, and its rough texture was intended to hide its wearer from people watching from afar, or from planes and dirigibles.

“Milord, quick!” the smaller person pointed towards a spot on the shore, the most hidden part of that place where land ended and water reached the soles of one’s feet.

At once, and after making sure they were alone, the taller figure stood in the water. The other person, bearing the axe and looked around for possible patrols, watched as her companion cast the god-power of the Dwarf Saint. The bright emerald green glow of his hand would be seen from afar, though the shrubs and trees kept them from prying eyes.

“…” Queen Paula couldn’t keep herself from getting mesmerized by the beautiful green lights that danced around the Black God, the Lord Kuro, as he used the god-powers. However, she had to focus on her watch. Besides, those ‘green lights’ hid the lethal fact that those were mana meant to cause a famine in the northern regions.

As for Kuro, he had to repeatedly cast the spell of the Dwarf Saint. He still had to get the full support of the dwarves, so his god-powers were weak compared to that of the Lady Helgath. Nevertheless, he could breathe with relief as he used it; the authority over land was one of the god-powers that was not as malevolent as the authority over the winds of the Beastman Saint if one had a weak control over the spell.

The magic he intended to use were many, so they were to stay in that place for a while. Though they landed in a significant distance away from the nearest crusader camp, the tension was still present. There was the possibility that an enemy patrol might stumble upon them, or someone would detect what they were doing.

After all, the fishes nearby were starting to die in droves.

“Your Holy Majesty…” the miner queen called out to Kuro. Her shaky voice betrayed her hidden fright.

“Just a few more spells,” he replied, taking into mind the Lady Helgath’s estimation on the number of casts he had to do to completely ‘curse’ the north.

Queen Paula had no choice but to wait for Kuro to finish. As it was intended to be a ‘covert’ mission, the Black God declined to bring a sizeable force to keep guard. His fear that their movement might attract armies from the crusader camps was the reason for the decision, though the miner queen wished they really should’ve brought more than just him, herself and her plane. As she sat under one of the trees that overlooked the part of the shore where Kuro was casting his spells, she saw birds fly from the forests to their east.

Someone is approaching their position.

The miner queen readied her axe and immediately told the Black God what she saw. Kuro, however, was still to cast the last spell. “Can you hold them off for me, just in case?”

Queen Paula nodded, though deep inside, she was uncomfortable. While she was an excellent pilot in the air, her battle skills on the ground was still to be tested, and she didn’t know if she could properly defend their god from their assailants. But, she steeled her resolve; the plan of the Lord Kuro was to save them, and she would die first before the crusaders get to him.

Soon, her fears were confirmed by an appearance of a patrol of dwarves from the crusader camp. Wearing the heavy armor of the dwarf warriors, this group were also armed with steam-powered war hammers and battle-axes. From what she heard from their conversation, they did see her plane land in this part of west Cherhom.

“!!!”

With a deep breath, the miner queen revealed herself to the patrol, much to their shock.

“Identify yourself!” demanded the leader of the group. “Or we’ll be forced to bash your skull!”

“I can’t let you proceed any further, brothers,” she replied, making sure they saw she was armed. “This is my land, mined since the ancient days by my ancestors. Please go back to your camps in peace.”

“We saw a plane land in this part of the plains a while ago,” the commander said. “By any chance, are you the pilot of that aircraft?”

“What is it then to you? I can do whatever I want in my territory.”

“Dwarf, I think you’re being mistaken for acting so tough. We are crusaders, from the north, if you still don’t know what’s going on. We’re here to punish the heathens from Montserrant, and you’ll suffer the same fate if you’re one of them. If you don’t answer my questions, then we’ll be forced to break your bones.”

The miner queen went on her battle stance. “Come and do it then!”

Annoyed at her non-compliance, the commander of the patrol ordered his dwarves to ‘make a sample of her’ to the heathens. At once, several of the crusaders attacked her from all directions, with their war hammers and battle-axes aiming to make a bloody mush out of her.

“!!!” Nevertheless, Queen Paula used her own battle-axe to parry the attacks, and her swifter movements (she wore no armor) to evade those she couldn’t parry. The steam war hammers caused violent shaking of the ground, while the battle-axes cleaved through the bushes and trees that get into its blades’ way as how a knife went through butter.

The commander was getting impatient as the miner queen proved skillful in melee. As she was busy defending her ground, he took his bow and arrows—made from iron, and tried to shoot her from his spot. However, just as he was about to let his arrow loose…

“!!!”

A powerful punch crashed through his jaw that sent him flying to the ground and taking off his helmet. When his senses returned, Kuro’s gun was already on his head, ready to pull the trigger on one wrong move.

“Tell your dwarves to stop their attacks,” he demanded. “If they hurt my friend, your brains will blow off.”

Faced with the choice to live in defeat, or die for his ideals, the dwarf patrol leader asked for his warriors to lower their weapons.

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***The city of Algambra, the leading settlement in north Cherhom…***

Just like Hemelin, Algambra was an extensive city, built originally in one of its surrounding mountains and expanded its control to the nearby ones over time. It was still smaller than the former, but by population, it was the second largest in all the land of the dwarves. However, the Golden Hammer’s economic system stopped the city from acquiring industries other than those that concerned farming and livestock raising. As a result, Algambra was Cherhom’s leader in food production and supply.

Albrecht’s target was the main warehouse of Algambra, itself was a world-inspiring wonder. It was built into the mountain, with a surface building at its peak that could accommodate thousands of tons of food stuff, and a powerful preservation system deep underground that served to prolong anything that was stored in the warehouse. Think of it as a mountain-built giant refrigerator, powered by steam generators, and with a backup machine that runs on mana.

In the days that led to their infiltration of Algambra, Albrecht had his dwarves conduct an extensive surveillance of the area, and identify any possible points of entry within the warehouse. The dwarves were fiercely protective of their possessions, and that included the facilities within their guilds and cities. Fortunately, one of his people had relatives working in the farming guild of Algambra, and they were provided maps that detailed the defenses of the warehouse.

Of course, they got it for a hefty price…

And so, it was easy for Albrecht and his dwarves to enter the Algambra warehouse. However, the next phase of the plan was the difficult part; Kuro specifically ordered them not to kill anyone, unless it was extremely necessary. Albrecht and his group were petty criminals, but they were veterans at their trade. And that included eliminating opposition through violent means.

“…”

Albrecht’s plan called for destroying the preservation system beneath the warehouse, and then starting a fire designed to burn everything down within the storage. But, to avoid deaths, they had to cause a false alarm that would cause the guards and employees to flee the scene. To do that, he divided his group into three teams; one would create a ruckus outside the warehouse, big enough for the employees and the guards to attempt to stop it. The second would position themselves inside the warehouse, while the third group led by Albrecht himself would destroy the refrigeration system.

To create a reason for trouble, Albrecht enlisted the help of his ‘girls,’ which he secretly transported to Algrambra and the other cities on their target list. They were to distract the employees taking their breaks, which would be escalated into a fistfight by one of his dwarf. When their preparations were complete, he called his subordinates, signifying the start of their attacks.

“Do it.”

Soon, there were huge fistfights across several cities with warehouses in northern Cherhom, some of which descended to riots. In Algambra, the city guards were called into action, for the chaos got out of control…which played well into Albrecht’s calculations. As his dwarves descended into the lightly-guarded warehouse, they knocked the remaining guards unconscious, dragging them off the scene just before the first bombs blew the foundations and setting the food stocks aflame.

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***The city of Rodirrim to the south…***

While he was tasked with the ‘diplomatic’ side of things on his end, Ashren found that his new ‘task’ wasn’t easy.

“…”

Sitting on a table surrounded by the highest officials of the Rodirrim Mining Guild, he silently wished he could just disappear. His heart would always lie on the battlefield than in the four corners of a room, talking to boring people. Nevertheless, the former mercenary sought to do his best, for it was the person he respected that assigned him to this job. And that meant the Lord Kuro had unwavering trust in him in this matter.

“We surely didn’t expect the Black God to send a human mercenary to us to negotiate,” one of the officials commented. “Surely, he’s not hinting at something we won’t like?”

“No, milord,” the mercenary vehemently denied the suspicions. “On the contrary, the Lord Kuro is aware of the importance of your guild’s cooperation, that’s why he sent me to negotiate.”

“A former mercenary?” the dwarf official raised an eyebrow. “Not the best of diplomats, isn’t it?”

“I may not be the best speaker, but it is my background as a mercenary that ensured the safety of this conversation.” Ashren’s eyes fell on his acquaintance, the Lord Gabriel Rodirrim, who sat silently at the head of the conference table. Deep inside, he wished that the dwarf would come to his rescue; but being a business person as he was, Gabriel was also weighing on the diplomatic moves of the Black God.

“Explain to us,” said the dwarves, for they felt slighted by the mercenary’s presence.

“The Lord Kuro sought to hide his involvement in this negotiation,” the human revealed. “This is so that the northerners—or their spies—would suspect nothing when you try to buy their guilds in the future. After all, southern Cherhom is locked in an internal conflict; my presence would be taken as your efforts to bolster your forces against your rivals.”

The dwarves were silent as the mercenary explained his position. However, when he was finished, an official pointed out, “You said that we are going to buy the northern guilds? How so?”

“The Black God, the Lord Kuro, asks you to do it.”

“What makes you think we will agree to this?”

Ashren then pulled his ‘ace’; he presented the officials of the Rodirrim Mining Guild a small bag of coking coal. “My liege says your guild needs this, and so, he is willing to provide you not only with 50% of coking coal production from the Cole Miners’ Guild. We are ready to give you 60% of the output in exchange for buying assets in your guild, tax-free, and cooperation with us.”

There was a great murmur in the conference room as the dwarves suddenly became excited at the prospect of a sure supply of coking coal. However, Gabriel Rodirrim poured cold water to the excitement…

“Mister Ashren,” he began. “Pardon me for killing off the celebrations of my companions, but tax-free 60% of coking coal output from Cole Miners’ Guild isn’t enough for us to let go of the ownership of our guild.”

“Milord,” the mercenary was caught off-guard by the dwarf guild leader’s objection. Nevertheless, he tried to appear calm; one wrong move, and he would be outmaneuvered by the person he thought would help him. “Just to be clear, the Lord Kuro stated that he will only buy a part of your guild’s assets, under his holdings company. You still get to keep a portion, as well as the full rights to its name. We would only invest money, so you can keep your operations, while developing your systems, or expanding your guild. Your choice.”

“You’ll give us 60% of coking coal production, tax-free, plus money in exchange for a portion of our assets and our cooperation in buying out the northern guilds?” Gabriel chuckled. “Isn’t that too good to be true? What else is there to the agreement, if we ever sign it?”

The mercenary pulled the papers where the contract was written. He gave those to Gabriel, who read it. While doing so, he said to the dwarves, “If you did agree to our contract, you get 60% of the Cole Miners’ Guild output on coking coal, and money from our investors in exchange for owning part of your assets, cooperation with us, and recognizing the Black God as your god.”

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***The main crusader camp, at the northern shores bordering the western region, a week after their defeat in Montserrant…***

The defeat of the initial crusading forces was a costly setback for the crusaders, as the bulk of their artillery, planes and airships was turned into dust by the god-powers of the Black God in a blink of an eye. Though no one died, several of their pilots and dirigible crews suffered severe injuries, alongside the demoralization of the dwarf lords who took part in the first expedition. Still, the northerners were determined to ‘punish’ Montserrant, and they wouldn’t retreat to their cities until they destroyed Equality’s ‘heart of heresy.’

At the midst of the crisis control was their overall commander, Miss Farah Koh. In the aftermath of the crusader’s retreat, she gathered the rest of the dwarf nobles who didn’t take part in the initial attack for a war council. While they still had the numbers to make war, the shortage of arms, armors, and equipment, as well as the destruction of their vehicles, effectively made their armies pointless.

“We should retreat to our cities to re-arm ourselves,” one of the dwarf lords suggested. “We can’t risk going to war without proper reserves of our weapons, armors and equipment!”

“How can you say such things?” said another. “Haven’t we brought everything here? All of that equipment, bought from the now-desolated eastern cities, gone! And the Lord Fangorn lost his army’s capability to fight!”

“There’s nothing left in the north, save for food! What do you want us to do? Throw bread at our enemies?”

The council was sharply divided into the factions that wanted to end the war, and retreat to their cities, and those that deny their defeat and continue on, for the sake of their god. While they still had enough forces to mount another attack on Montserrant, the story of how the Black God destroyed their armaments prevented them from doing so. After all, those were from the east, which were now crippled by Seirna’s curse. However, their pride as dwarves also kept them from admitting their loss, not to mention, it was Farah’s desire to continue on.

“Is that how you profess your faith to our god?” she asked, effectively silencing the opposition. “You say that you love him, and yet, one evil man is enough to stop you, brave soldiers of the Golden Hammer! Where is your faith?”

“It’s not that we aren’t devoted to our lord, Miss Koh,” a dwarf noble answered. “But how are we going to fight the Black God if he can turn our weapons into dust?”

“With sticks and stones!” the former captain of the Golden Hammer’s security bellowed. “With our bodies if we must! Our faith in the Golden Hammer alone will be enough to achieve victory! Why are you backing out with the simple loss of arms? Aren’t you ashamed of your ancestors? They fought the giants of our past down to their very blood! And here you are, cowering and quivering in the tents because of one puny human who can cast evil magic?”

Her dressing down caused the war council to be silent. While Farah did say things that would insult her fellow dwarves, as their overall commander, they thought her words to be true, being the servant of the Golden Hammer in the past. Her survival in the ‘Tragedy of Hemelin’ also boosted her image of having the ‘Golden Hammer’s favor,’ the reason she was still alive. Those alone were enough for the dwarves to permit her to be rudely frank to them.

“We still have forces equipped with weapons, armors, and other equipment. We still have dirigibles, and planes, and we still outnumbered the heathens in that evil mountain called Montserrant!” she continued. “To say that we can’t take on the heathens is criminal! Where is your faith? Where is your love for the Golden Hammer? If you are so afraid of leading our holy forces to victory, then watch me win the war in these tents! Your descendants will forever loathe your name for the cowardly behavior you showed today!”

The last sentence did it for everyone. No dwarf would ever want to be called a ‘coward,’ and so they quickly changed their stance on the continuation of their crusade, supplies and armaments be damned. The former captain of the Golden Hammer’s security sighed with relief, as she overturned the dissenting sentiments of her subordinates. Nevertheless, she knew she had to move quickly; the dwarves were slowly losing their motivation to fight the longer their march to Montserrant took.

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Getting her forces prepared went harder than before, as the crusaders were divided on the issue of continuing the war against Montserrant, regardless of their lieges’ opinions. Those who were in the first expedition spread their own twisted version of the events, that soon, there were rumors of giants rampaging, flying dragons, and a god calling down flames from heaven going around the crusader camps. While the dwarves were never afraid of those stories, they were reluctant to march to Montserrant simply for the reason that they lacked artillery…most of which became dust a week ago.

So, with an increasingly undisciplined army of drunk dwarves, Farah sought to ban and confiscate alcohol from the warriors, which took time considering the size of the crusaders’ camps. It was an exhausting affair that lasted nearly an entire day, and she had to placate them by reminding them of their ‘sacred duty’ to the Golden Hammer.

Though, she wondered for how long she can keep up with this…

“Well, you can always decide to retreat to the northern cities and stop this senseless war.”

“!!!” Farah returned to her senses when she heard a familiar voice speak from behind her. Turning around, she saw the Dwarf Saint, the Lady Helgath in her ‘small form,’ standing at the entrance to her tent. She immediately reached for her weapon, but the holy lady only cast her god-powers that turned the sword into dust.

“There’s no need for that,” the Lady Helgath chuckled. “I’m not here to kill; I won’t even lay a hand on you. The Black God’s orders.”

“What do you want?” she asked, never hiding her spite for the Dwarf Saint.

“I’ll just give you a warning. Cease your hostile actions to the allies of the Lord Kuro; he has heaven’s favor. Likewise, stop your hatred on the Lady Seirna, or it will consume you. You’re only making this harder for you.”

“I don’t subscribe to your delusions, nor to the imagination of your fake god.”

The Lady Helgath answered Farah’s declaration with a wry smile. And then, she teleported beside her, grabbing the former captain of the Golden Hammer security forces by the collar of her dress. “Listen here. I may tolerate you throwing insults at me, but I won’t let you say a word about the Lord Kuro to my face. You already destroyed my people, and we’re doing things to correct everything that went wrong. The least you can do is to shut up, stay put in your tunnel, and just enjoy your remaining dwarf life, Louis.”

At that moment, she threw ‘Farah’ on the ground. There was a long moment of silence between them, though the latter eventually broke the ice…

“So, how long did you know?”

“I’m the saint. Have you forgotten that I can read minds, Louis?”

The former Golden Hammer said nothing.

“Let’s say that I already know when I saw you again,” the Lady Helgath revealed. “Even though my golem, ‘Martelle,’ limited my abilities, I can still peek through everyone’s thoughts. And I am already aware that the ‘Louis’ we killed at the Grand Temple was someone else in the husk of your former body. Tell me, that one is the real Farah Koh?”

The Lord Louis nodded.

“You know that magic is forbidden. The only other person who did that is the Lady Cassandra David herself, who lost her life trying to transfer herself to another body. Yet, she did not sin, for it was just another ‘blank’ physique.”

“Stopped with the guilt trip! I had to do it, Helgath,” he reasoned. “The human body is limited once it gets old. And our days are the shortest than everyone else! Do you even have an idea of how frightening it is to think that someday you will die, weak and sickly? I don’t want to experience what I had gone through when I was killed back in my world!”

“You’ve been so consumed by your desire to live, you already died!” the Dwarf Saint countered.

“It’s all your fault, you damned saint!”

“And how it is my fault?”

“You gave me the idea that I can become a god!” Louis blurted out. “You said you will help me achieve it! Yet, years and decades passed, I’m still a fake contraption they call the ‘Golden Hammer’!”

“Well, I apologize for leading you on,” the Lady Helgath told him. “But, you know what? I’m so glad you didn’t become a god! Imagine how bad it will be for Cherhom and the other lands if you succeeded the Lord Gaius! You’re selfish! You’re always thinking of yourself! You only used people for your benefit! You also brought your trash ideas into this world and infected it!”

“What can you do about it? Your god said to avoid killing me!”

The Dwarf Saint stared at her former lover. Deep inside, his words cut through her like a knife. Nevertheless, she sought not to show him she was greatly affected by it. The Louis she knew was long dead, and this one was just a shadow of his former self. “I agree with the Lord Kuro; you’re so pathetic that sinning would be a waste on you. You get to live another day, but I demand you leave Montserrant alone.”

“It is too late, Helgath. The die has been cast,” Louis insisted. “Either one of us will be destroyed.”

“Haven’t I warned you not to continue with your destructive actions?”

“Well, how will you stop me when you can’t even lay a hand on me?”

The Lady Helgath smirked, and went back to the entrance. “In a few moments, someone will knock at the other side of your tent. That dwarf will bring bad news from the cities in the north, and your crusaders will be forced to return to their families. Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.”

Louis, in the body of Farah, could only look at the Dwarf Saint as she teleported out of the camp. Then, just as she predicted, someone did come knocking at the tent. A few hours later, the northern crusade melted away as the dwarf armies raced back to their cities on the other side of the sea.