A Dwarf Falls into Nihilism and Decides to Betray Everyone

Within a week, a dozen demon generals were slain.

With their deaths, large swathes of Glynn’s World returned to the light. The armies of Dreams and its allies advanced from west to east with lightning speed, riding with renewed vigor under the protagonists and their new Warrior-King: Akira Kasuga. The man's efficiency in killing generals earned him the loyalty of all who followed his command. Of course, most Japanese trusted him from the get-go, but it was his determination and humility that proved to be the magical tablet for the mortals eager to see his lightning crusade to the end. The world was changing before them every day.

“We are down to fifty generals left,” Akira stated to his men. “We’re almost at the tipping point. Do not falter.”

“Men, we’re down to forty,” he said two weeks later. “You ten will move with me on the next attack. After that, everyone will be MAX level.”

“Men, we have reached our potential,” he said a week after. “With 25 demon generals left, and the shores ahead of us, nothing can stop us now.”

With his growing popularity, it came as no surprise that folks were starting to call him a king, as in an actual king. That was a problem for some of the nobility class. The king of Dreams in particular had a few schemes pass through his mind to cut his ascendency short, but given his daughter’s closeness to the swordsman, the idea of marrying her off to him sounded more fruitful. Her loyalty and increased magical abilities helped the crown more than harm it. All was right with the world.

All the while, the goddesses took the advancement as their cue to sit back and relax. The months of stress piling on them had lifted off their shoulders, and now they could laugh and bicker like they used to, excited to see how their wager would pay off.

“So the winner is whoever’s guy gets the killing blow on the Great Devil, right?” Rani asked.

“Exactly. Nothing else counts until then,” replied Elbeth.

Rani groaned. “Akira’s gonna solo that guy, isn’t he?”

“I wouldn’t be too sure. He’s becoming more of a mentor than anything. I think the final blow will come from Fuuma.”

“Naw, Rikido or Mamoru are getting up there now. That demon head is going ‘bleck!’”

“Or it could be Cordelia, right, Marine?”

“Really? You think so?” The youngest didn’t want to be part of the conversation, instead keeping an eye on the world itself. Still so much to do.

“Hey, why are you looking so mopey?” Rani hugged her. “You’re still in the competition. You can actually win.”

Elbeth pulled her cheek. “Your princess is the lifelink between the heroes and the armies of Glynn’s world.” 

“You’re actually contributing!”

“We’re so proud of you, sis.”

Their words warmed her heart, so she couldn’t help but be grateful. Her greatest fear had come to pass. Whoever defeated the devil at this point didn’t matter, so long as Glynn’s World was saved. However, a gnawing guilt ate at her from the inside, a dark presence she couldn’t push away. It had been weeks since her other champion had locked himself in his hammerspace, and he hadn’t returned. She felt the connection between her and his soul thin to a small sliver, ready to break. What was happening in that realm?

“I’m going to fight for Akira,” Mars said to Dige. “Our team is disbanded.”

Dige, fresh from the Soul Lighthouse, was still brimming with anger. This news didn’t sit well with him. “What about our team? What about Gunch? Where did he go?”

“He’s not coming back. I made sure of it.” 

“Okay...b-but two is still better than one, lad! Why are you off siding with that yellow bastard?”

“He's paying me. Plus Kuroni is scouting for him, so I wanna see if I can...You should follow them, too.”

“They just killed me! Again! No! I’m not going back! I hate those Japanese! Hate them! Hate them!”

Mars took note of that. The first time he heard the dwarf use that word.

“Please, Mars, we stopped that demon general together. We make a good team. Together, we can save…defeat Akira! Dammit, you’re my friend. We ought to stick together.”

Mars stood there in silence, contemplating a rational answer, but that was too hard.

“Look, I don't like this world, and frankly, I don't even like you that much. Just get some money, save the realm, and go back to your world once this is all over. You'll live longer that way.”

Mars turned and left the camp with full gear in tow. However, he didn’t let his guard down until he was far enough away. He learned enough about the dwarf to know when to avoid him. He may be strong, but he wasn’t immortal like him. 

He was certain he was on the grudge list, and he didn’t care. Well, maybe a little.

But the dwarf disappeared after that, for weeks at a time, in a space separated from Glynn’s World, the Lighthouse, Fuuma’s space. That was already ripped away when Dige returned, and from there, the dwarf resided, forging away in a simulacrum of home.

The day and night cycle disappeared. There was no sunlight in this underground, only the eternal fire of torchlight. The rocks were infinite, edible. Water wasn’t a concern. Heat and cold meant nothing.

Dige let himself roam free, undisciplined in his destructive process, rage carrying the trajectory of his designs. With nowhere to test or receive feedback, Dige created, over and over, weapons spawning from his base desires, tracing memories of the weapons seen before, and the faces upon which he wanted to inflict pain. The grudge. The grudge would carry him to the revenge he desired, so he made more and more weapons out of passionate hatred, building upon each as their imperfections stoked the fire of his rage even more. The armory he built was large, brutal, and ultimately junk.

Why? Why didn’t people like him? Why were the first words out of everyone’s mouths an insult against his existence? Why, when everyone else was so polite to each other, was the same courtesy never extended to him? Why did other races, like the elves, the beastmen, the gray orc, find acceptance where he didn’t? Did he not give them a positive attitude? Some words of kindness? Who was the first to offend, and who retaliated?

Every interaction Dige could remember replayed like a film, driving him even madder than before. The villagers, Akira, Shige, the receptionist, Cordelia, the King, Artemis, Hideyoshi, the nobles, the slavers, Dreams, Mars, the orcs, Fuuma, King Vladamor, everyone. They insulted him first. He received no courtesy from anyone, all because he wasn’t to their standing, because he was a dwarf.

Yes, a dwarf, a creature who is smelly. A creature who can be rude, who says strange things because he thinks like a dwarf and not like a human. A creature who is blunt, who could hold a grudge. A creature who murders. A creature that kills others who insult him, even though humans would do the same, or worse, to him. A creature who is ugly, unkempt, and unaware of human social cues.

Yes, that was it. He insulted them first. By being a dwarf, he had made them uncomfortable, repulsed, angry. They hated him. If they met his old clan, they would kill them. This was why he never met humans in his old world. It must’ve been why his people lived in the mountains, his culture bringing them deeper underground. It wasn’t for the riches, or the love of jewels and metals, it was to escape them, the humans, and any other race that could masquerade as them, because if the humans in the old world were anything like Earth’s or Glynn’s, the result would be the same.

The Earth humans knew about dwarves. He heard how they spoke about them, their silly little quirks and the roles in their stories, and it disquieted him. Fuuma and Shige gave little stories and anecdotes from their books and games, and they sickened Dige, and he couldn’t figure out the reason why, but now, hammering away, he could understand.

The protagonists saw him as human. They recognized his category but assumed his quirks were skin deep, that otherwise he was just a short, burly human. The Glynn’s citizenry saw him as malformed, an other, no better than the beastmen. Their disgust was direct, like a warhammer to the face. The protagonists’ disgust was like a knife to the back, because they tried to hide it until they couldn’t anymore. Shige was honest. He spoke more like a dwarf than anyone else. Fuuma suffered for five days with him and snapped under the pressure. Hideyoshi pretended he didn’t exist. Every word from Akira was coldly calculated. The attempt was there, but the results were the same.

Dige had lived among the humans, and because he was a dwarf, they hated him, killed him, and considered him a nuisance. He was an inconvenience to everyone. He was, to them, a defective human, utterly incapable of melding into their society.

He was a bad human.

Dige was not human.

He wasn’t.

Then.

Why care?

Why should he care about them? Who cares what humans think?

Does it even matter if they live or die?

Does it matter if this world is going to be destroyed?

Why care about humans, if I wasn’t human?

I am not human.

I am a dwarf.

I am a monster.

“You figured it out.”

Dige’s dark spell broke, and he found himself not alone in his realm. A witch with grey skin and white hair stood below him on the stairway to his forge. She floated to his level.

“This world isn’t meant for creatures like you,” she said. Her voice was as dead as her visage. “You are a creature of the dark. You do not belong with these light creatures. Join me, Dige, and I will make this world to your liking.”

“How’d you get in here?” Dige brandished his hammer. “State your name.”

“My name is Xim. I rule the dark world creatures in this realm.”

“Are ye a demon general?”

“I am above them, though they do not answer to me.”

“Are you the Great Devil?”

“In a way.”

“If I kill ye, the world would be saved.”

“Not exactly.”

“Hmm?” 

“You can try to kill me, but I wouldn’t say this world is saved. It’ll be as malformed as it always was, maintained by the three who ruined it in the first place, a realm made for humans.”

Dige’s grip tightened, his blood pressure rising.

“Your demon friend killed a boy I cared about. He looked up to me. Do you think I can forgive you for that?”

“I don’t need forgiveness, and I’m not asking for it. Your hatred is accepted, but consider who you draw anger for, a human. Was he really worth your consideration? Did he treat you as an equal?”

“I don’t know.” Dige stepped forward. “But I liked him. That’s enough for me to fight.”

“Your compassion misdirects you. You need to remember the truth which you stated.”

Dige grimaced.

“The humans only see others as extensions of themselves. You are their human-esque slave. Join me, and I will make a world suitable to you and the other dwarves.”

The dwarf’s eyes widened, throwing himself back into his workbench. The contraption that he was slaving away on tumbled off the edge and down the rocky slope.

“There are others?”

Xim nodded. “Six of them. They were all I could find. I’m sorry I couldn’t bring more. Once this realm becomes a Darkworld, they will receive the mountain as their home.”

Dige fell to the ground, shuddering. He had closed that part of his mind for the longest time. No dwarves had ever been found in Glynn’s World. He was the only one. He let that control his actions for weeks at a time, resigned to such a terrible fate. They were found. On the other side of the war for light and darkness, he found them.

“Would you like to meet them?” Xim asked.

His breath trembled, and he couldn’t gain the power needed to look the witch in the eye, but his determined stare told her everything the witch needed to know.

“Please, take me to them.”