I kept walking, my feet screaming in pain from being inactive for so long—and to top it off, completely bare. I can’t believe I don’t even have my boots. It’s utterly infuriating.

  Suddenly, a scorching heat enveloped my body, as if I were hundreds of miles from the sun, yet here, right on solid ground. An orange-red light and a rumbling, splashing roar surrounded me. Lava?

  What the hell is this…? Back in what you might call my youth (though I’m still young), I’d heard people talk about mountains that spewed a kind of thick, red liquid. They called them “volcanoes.”

  I’d never seen one, so I couldn’t be sure if this was actually what it seemed. I knew lava as something that made the earth release magma, but I never imagined a mountain could hold it.

  It sounds ridiculous, considering nature is capable of anything. But cut me some slack—I was truly an idiot back then.

  Though my eyes wanted to focus on that colossal lava mountain, they kept drifting to a tiny figure at its peak. His frame was small. And he was forging something, hammering an anvil with overwhelming force.

  It was intimidating. My body felt unbearably heavy; I no longer knew if it was due to that guy’s presence or the lingering exhaustion weighing me down. But the silence shattered the moment his eyes landed on me.

  “Finally managed to crawl out, did you? Well, that much is obvious.”

  His figure became clearer as he stepped forward. Was that… a dwarf? Damn it… Of all creatures, it had to be a dwarf?

  Ugh… Dwarves aren’t exactly known for their wit, but I guess this is what I’m stuck with.

  “Who are you?” I asked, my voice barely audible, my vocal cords on the verge of collapse. This is such crap. At least back in that damn coffin, I could talk to myself in peace.

  “I’m afraid that answer is confidential for now, Mr. Jay.”

  He knows me?

  “You’d best rein in your hostility, Mr. Jay.” —Oops, I’d momentarily felt threatened and started radiating aggression. My bad — “I’m not here to harm you.”

  Even though my vocal cords had lain dormant for millennia, I could still hold a brief conversation without exhausting my voice. Somehow, it felt like suffering from a strange affliction.

  I forced myself to speak, uttering words that undoubtedly spilled from my lips: “How do you know me?”

  The dwarf chose each word with meticulous precision, leaving questions hanging in the air like prolonged echoes. It was as if he wanted me to unravel the mystery of what was happening on my own, without a shred of help.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  “I am one of the few who do, Mr. Jay. I don’t have much time, so I’d better hurry and give you… this.”

  The dwarf scrambled to rummage through the rocks. He pulled out an object wrapped in tattered rags. For a moment, I thought it was just garbage, but my instincts forced me to stay.

  Urgently, he descended the volcano, leaping between rocks to gain speed. Despite his small, stocky frame, his agility was astonishing. He might even be as strong—or stronger—than Robert. No… that’s impossible. After defeating Astaroth, we surely claimed the top spot in the power rankings, right?

  Maybe.

  Finally, the dwarf stood before me, extended his arm, and handed me the rag-covered object. I took it with mild disgust. Though what right do I have to feel revulsion over rags when my own state is far worse?

  It was heavy. Even in my weakened state, its weight felt unbearable. What the hell am I holding? The rags slowly unraveled as I peeled them away. Just as I was about to remove the last layer, a chain clattered to the ground with a metallic spark.

  “This is…” I murmured. My surprise—or maybe the rush of unexpected nostalgia—summoned the silhouette of a weapon in my mind… the silhouette of one weapon in particular.

  There was a time when I had to fight bare-handed. You can’t imagine the pain of punching demon hides with naked fists. I resorted to leather gloves reinforced with mana, but my strength was so monstrous they’d shatter instantly.

  I begged Robert to help me, and that’s when I met her—my best friend: a whip-sword, versatile enough to be used as a chain or a conventional blade. It was perfect for someone like me, who fought at both close and long range.

  But… when I faced Astaroth, the sword vanished from my hands without me noticing. I lost it the moment after I struck the final blow. After that… I guess I ended up in that coffin.

  The edge of Zadkiel was identical to how it looked two thousand years ago—or perhaps even more imposing. I held it again in my hands, feeling like a child rediscovering a beloved wooden toy.

  Understand this: If you lost what you cherished most and years later found it again, wouldn’t you cling to it, terrified of losing it once more? Isn’t that how it goes?

  Still, no matter how tightly I tried to grip my sword, it was a dangerous weapon. With a blade that sharp, the odds of cutting myself were high, so I opted to strap it to my back, curved like a snail’s shell.

  I didn’t want to push the dwarf further. After receiving something so priceless… I suppose the proper thing was to express gratitude. But… he cut me off.

  “You should leave. Walk behind the volcano—there’s a path that will lead you to the exit.”

  I wanted to ask more, but his voice dripped with urgency. He clearly didn’t want me around any longer. Yet one question still gnawed at me.

  “Before I go… could you answer one question?”

  The dwarf sighed, as though haste mattered more than giving me a simple reply.

  “Fine. But make it quick.”

  “Why are you helping me?”

  “Out there, things may seem ordinary, but secrets hide better than shadows in the dark. Mr. Jay, save the races of the Kings and restore peace to the world.”

  What…? That left me with more questions than answers.

  Aah… Save the races? Are there hidden truths? What the hell does he mean by “save the races of the Kings”? Three questions collided in my mind. I knew accepting a dwarf’s help was a mistake, but I never imagined it’d be this monumental.

  “Now, go. I answered your question—it’s time for you to leave.”

  “Wait. You’ve only left me more confused. How does that answer my question?”

  “You asked for one answer, and I gave it. Now leave. And keep our conversation secret.”

  To be honest, I nearly forced him to explain further—but he was right. I’d only asked for one question. I couldn’t demand more.

  It’d be easy to ask another, but I keep my word. Proudly honorable, I suppose.

  Without another word, I nodded in gratitude to the dwarf and began walking. According to him, the exit lay behind the volcano—and that’s where I headed.