I Became the Martial God's Youngest Disciple

Vulcanus' temple was said to lie outside the village.

From a dwarf's perspective, that was somewhat ironic, but I considered it fortunate. A flame-wreathed temple within the village would have been disastrous in a different way.

I headed to the place I had heard about, with the altar inside in mind. At its center burned a mysterious flame that had endured for thousands of years without being extinguished. This was the Breath of Vulcanus.

I recalled the puzzling question Ludwig had asked when he heard of it.

"So how do you use the divine power called Breath of Vulcanus? Do you have to go to the temple every time you want to use it?" Ludwig had asked.

"Not exactly. It can be transferred to a special tree that grows only in this desert," Visid had replied.

"I see," Ludwig had answered.

In other words, the wood served as a torch, carrying the sacred flame to the workshops' fire pits. The key point was that, once transferred, the Breath of Vulcanus had a strict time limit. No matter how carefully it was preserved, it would vanish after one month. This limitation explained why the dwarves of Sandstorm Hill had been unable to produce any items for several months.

I summarized the explanation and soon arrived near the temple.

"I think it's here." My black scales resisted high temperatures well, but I still felt the strain as I approached.

"It's hot." It had been a long time since I had experienced such intense heat. I didn't sweat due to the nature of this race, but hot air was released like a dragon's breath every time I exhaled.

Honestly, at times like this, I didn't understand how the Linchal Mask worked. Is this truly a transformation rather than a disguise? It goes beyond a simple surface change. It feels as though my entire body has taken on a lizardman's structure.

I suspected that the effect came not only from the mask, but also from Lise's black magic. After all, when I had transformed into Nalu, it had never reached this level of completeness.

Well, Nalu is human. In any case, black magic is said to excel at transformation spells. Once again, I was impressed by Lise Ladygoth's knowledge.

"From now on, I have to be especially careful," I muttered.

For a moment, I imagined how good it would look to manifest Crowtaker's power in this form and unfurl a black wing. Sadly, I couldn't easily use this power, since it could expose my identity.

I have to restrain myself. I'm no longer at the age of stormy adolescence. I may still look young, but my mind has long matured into that of an adult. I had to repeat that to myself as I moved forward.

Before long, I spotted a building in the distance, engulfed in flames. It was still quite far away, but its size, beauty, and artistry were overwhelming. What suddenly came to mind was Sandstorm Hill. The various buildings there looked impressive to me, though the dwarves never thought much of them. They claimed that the structures would collapse in sandstorms anyway, so they had built them hastily.

At first, I had assumed they were humblebragging. That wasn't the case. Now, I understood why they looked down on the houses of Sandstorm Hill. Dozens of craftsmen with keen ears and artists destined for history books after their deaths had to have poured years of thought into refining this place. If even one of them found it lacking, they would have smashed it and started again.

After dozens, even hundreds, of such trials, they declared it complete when every one of them agreed it was perfect. I couldn't imagine a higher compliment.

The temple itself was magnificent, and its highlight was the massive dragon perched on the roof. I had never actually seen a real dragon, but I had encountered similar creatures. For example, the Sapphire Snake I had faced in the Jewel Mountains. Its intelligence and strength lacked the level of a true dragon, but its sheer size was comparable.

Even so, the sense of intimidation and thrill that I felt now exceeded what I had experienced against the Jewel Beast. And this was only a stone statue. The dragon's eyes shone red, as if set with rubies; thick saliva seemed ready to drip from between the teeth at any moment; and its densely layered scales were so finely crafted that they seemed to have been plucked straight from a living creature.

What impressed me most was the fissure where the dragon lay. At first, I believed it was a real crack. Only when I looked closer did I realize that it was part of the design. It felt as though the dragon would glare at me and roar at any moment. In that instant, I understood what a dragon truly was.

The Fire Dragon God, Vulcanus, the first of the Thirteen Dragon Kings and the god of fire and the forge, was a being who had once bestowed the first flame upon a mortal blacksmith and passed down the art of metallurgy.

Now the entire temple was engulfed in flames, a transcendent sight in many ways. The magnificent, beautiful structure fit for myth was now burning before my eyes.

Strictly speaking, it wasn't burning. In the first place, the temple wasn't made from combustible materials. Despite the flames surrounding it, there were no scorch marks. The scene defied the laws of physics.

As I watched, I understood why it was said that the god was angry.

I glanced around as if casually, while discreetly checking my surroundings. I sensed no presence. It seemed that not only people, but also monsters, animals, and insects didn't dare approach this area. That made sense, given the heat. Even from a distance, the air was so hot that breathing felt difficult.

When I first went back in time and opened my eyes as the fifteen-year-old Luan Badniker, I had wanted a place filled with Fire Qi to quickly replenish my empty dantian. A lava field, a site of a past inferno, a place with a hot spring, or a desert would have sufficed. If I had secured such a place, I could have built up my internal energy quickly.

If I had come here back then, one of two outcomes would have followed. I would have accumulated around half of my current internal energy in a short time, or I would have failed and reduced myself to ashes. I could have even suffered backlash and gone mad. Well, that's technically three outcomes.

In any case, I confirmed that there were no witnesses and stepped forward while activating the First Fire Technique.

The moment I set foot on the path of blazing heat, a nervous laugh escaped me.

This must be how meat on a grill feels. The sensation of being cooked alive was new to me. It was a strange experience.

My thoughts turned to the lava I had seen inside Ymir's corpse.

How hot was that lava? I think I heard it was around 800 degrees... The heat I was feeling now was similar, and I hadn't even fully approached yet. At this intensity, access would be difficult even with high heat-resistant equipment.

This wouldn't have been possible if I weren't Luzard.

I walked slowly across the scorching sand, closing the distance to the temple. It was not far, yet each step grew harder as I approached. When I finally reached it, the temple vanished before my eyes. I stood still for a moment, struck by a sense of emptiness. After a while, the temple reappeared in the distance.

So, it's a mirage. Of course, it wasn't a natural one. The details I had seen were too precise for an ordinary mirage. This must be one of Vulcanus' tricks.

At that point, I was curious. What happened to anger this god? I can't really grasp the situation just by listening to one side.

I thought of Ludwig waiting on the hill. If anyone could find a clue to this strange feeling, it would be him.

***

Ludwig wasted no time after Luan left Sandstorm Hill for the temple. He slipped out of Konjian's house and set out to investigate the village.

Given the dwarves' closed-off and difficult nature, he doubted he could get the answers just by asking directly. Naturally, the only way to gather information was to explore on his own.

Fortunately, while the sun was rising, Konjian seemed absorbed in designing or producing equipment. With him occupied, Ludwig removed the restrictive dress and roamed freely through the relatively small village.

The difficulty shouldn't be that high, Ludwig thought.

Konjian wasn't the only one immersed in his work. Most of the village's craftsmen were entirely focused, so walking around in plain sight posed no problem. There also appeared to be no guards or regular patrols. Meanwhile, the buildings were grand in design, which made it easy to keep to the shadows and remain unnoticed.

How many buildings have I visited? A sudden sense of discomfort settled over Ludwig. He didn't immediately recognize the source at first, but something felt off, as if he had overlooked something important.

He reviewed everything step by step before arriving at the answer. There is no combat force.

Many groups of dwarf craftsmen lived in the south, but Sandstorm Hill was among the most renowned. Its reputation alone marked it as prestigious, and its equipment commanded high prices on the market. Naturally, many people targeted them, whether through coercive or illegal means. To them, Sandstorm Hill was a storehouse of treasures.

There's no security personnel in a place like this?

Dwarves were excellent craftsmen who could also serve as warriors. Their natural strength and sturdy muscles allowed them to fight better than most mercenaries when armed with hammers and axes.

Nonetheless, that alone couldn't fully protect a village of this scale. It could be a misconception, but Ludwig knew better. The stronger this faint unease grew, the less he could afford to ignore it.

There is something here. Ludwig sharpened his senses further and moved deeper into the village.

It wasn't large, so it didn't take long to look around. Before long, he noticed something peculiar. It was lunchtime, the hour when they paused to satisfy their hunger after working hard. Yet Ludwig noticed that after wiping their sweat, the dwarves didn't return to their own homes.

Visid's house?

As if following a rehearsed routine, they all headed toward the home of Sandstorm Hill's master, Visid. What struck Ludwig as odd was that they entered the house one by one in an orderly line. They looked tired as they entered, but emerged with refreshed, satisfied smiles.

The sight unsettled him. Whatever the reason, it was evident that something lay inside the house. Ludwig patiently waited until the last dwarf had left before stepping inside.

Visid's house was as spacious as it looked from the outside. The dining room showed signs of recent use by several people. Plates still held traces of food, and beer glasses stood with foam clinging to their rims.

These are the remnants of a recent meal left behind by those who had just eaten... An outsider may have thought so at a glance. Ludwig wiped the foam from a beer glass and tasted it. It was sweet, with a faint strawberry aroma. Fruit beer.

The beer's strong sweetness made it an unlikely choice for dwarves. As natural drinkers with a dull sense of taste, they tended to avoid such sweet beers. This was especially true in the south. In other words, there hadn't been only dwarves there.

Ludwig observed the tableware. It was slightly longer and sharper than what dwarves typically used, a difference that stemmed from their distinct body proportions.

The ones seated here... were humans!

As Ludwig scanned the room, his gaze fell on a drawer. At first glance, it seemed ordinary, but the lower section was strange. The right side was free of dust, and faint scratches marked the surface. It looked as if it could be pushed to the side.

He quietly placed his hand on the chest of drawers and closed his eyes. A faint current of air brushed against his skin.

There must be a secret room or a staircase leading to the basement, Ludwig thought, then opened his eyes. For now, he would leave it at that. It was still too early to step probe further. Any attempt to enter could expose his movements.

He still hadn't decided whether to reveal his identity to them. The dwarves were clearly suspicious and hiding something, but he couldn't confirm any hostility.

Then... what should I do now? Should I wait until Luan arrives or continue investigating on my own?

It wasn't a matter he could handle alone, so Ludwig returned to Konjian's house. There was one more person he could consult.

To his surprise, the house was empty. An uneasy silence filled the space.

Ludwig's expression stiffened as he called out, "Father?"

No answer came.

Delac was gone.

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