I showed the letter from the Dwarf Kingdom to Giuseppe and asked.
"What should I do about this?"
"Hmm... This is a first for me, too..."
So Giuseppe doesn't know what to do either? This is a problem. A moment later, Giuseppe spoke.
"The Dean might know."
"Ah."
It was obvious, now that I thought about it. As an elf, Dean Magarta might remember the times when dwarves and humans interacted. Or perhaps she might know a few dwarves personally.
That's what living for hundreds of years means. And so, I scheduled a meeting with the Dean. Inside the Dean's office.
The Dean was standing by the window, looking down at the capital's scenery. The Dean slowly turned her head and looked at me. Her blue eyes pierced through me.
"I was about to summon you anyway. Good timing."
The Dean held out a paper contract toward me and said.
"Would it be possible to receive a supply of paper from your workshop?"
I skimmed through the contract. It was a document stating that the Magic Tower would regularly import a certain amount of paper from now on. There didn't seem to be any major issues.
"Of course, Dean."
This was something I wanted as well.
"A good answer."
The Dean gave a faint smile. She put the signed contract into a drawer and continued.
"So. What brings you here?"
"Actually, it's about..."
Magarta Magica mulled over the contents of the letter. 'What is this...?' She knew this boy was always causing some kind of stir.
Like how he flew through the sky with the Emperor during the recent Festival of Longevity. But this was a qualitatively different matter.
[Therefore, we are certain that you are one of our kin who drifted into human society in the aftermath of the northern war.]
'Those stumpies...
Have their eyes gone bad from being in caves for too long?'
"This... What should I do?"
Isaac asked her. The Dean stared intently at Isaac. ...
The suspension.
Just how incredible was that piece of metal that the dwarves, the best in the world at metal craft, had mistaken his race? 'Perhaps I should have paid more attention back then.' She clicked her tongue inwardly.
Having lived for hundreds of years, she stood at the pinnacle of magic, but she had always dismissed things like metal craft and mechanical engineering as the domain of dwarves and kept her distance. 'If only I had invested just ten years, it wouldn't have come to this.'
Of course, even if she had learned metal craft, given the nature of elves, she would have quickly grown tired of it and quit. The Dean opened her mouth to speak to Isaac.
"According to dwarven etiquette, this document..."
Isaac gulped.
"...is a sign of great favor toward you. They genuinely mistake you for a lost kinsman and are worried about you."
"... Then what happens to me? Am I going to get kidnapped by dwarves or something?"
"That will never happen."
At this point, an attack on 'Isaac Upperhills' was tantamount to a declaration of war against the Magic Tower and the Imperial Palace. The Dean walked over to a bookshelf, took out an old parchment book, and handed it to Isaac.
"Use this to study dwarven etiquette and history."
"Is it okay not to send a reply to the letter?"
"It's already too late. Knowing dwarves, they would have already set out the moment they sent the letter."
A delegation would probably storm the main gate of the Magic Tower within a few days. 'I should strengthen the security starting tomorrow.' Isaac replied to the Dean's words.
"They're fast."
"Those folk are always hasty, except when they're hammering iron."
"... Perhaps, are elves and dwarves on bad terms?" ...
The Dean pondered for a moment how to answer this. She was the only elf left in this world. So if asked whether elves and dwarves get along... what kind of answer should she give?
After a moment, the Dean answered.
"A little bad."
If it had been anyone but Isaac asking, the Dean wouldn't have even answered the question. ... It seemed this boy was truly hopeless when it came to history. The Dean said.
"Your school head might be looking for you, so you should probably get going."
"I see."
Isaac bowed his head deeply to the Dean.
"Thank you for your help."
"Farewell."
"Yes."
Isaac took the book and left the office.
Clack.
As the door closed, the Dean walked to the window and gazed toward the northeast of the Empire. Far beyond the horizon lay the Iron Mountains, the stronghold of the dwarves. The Dean immediately sent a Telepathy to the princess. -'Your Highness.
Do you have a moment?' -'It's nothing else, but I'm contacting you because it seems the Iron Mountains have their eyes on our Sir Upperhills.' The possibility of Isaac leaving the Magic Tower was close to zero, but there was no harm in being thoroughly prepared.
I sat at my lab desk and opened the book the Dean had given me.
[In the Imperial Calendar year 63, the first great invasion of the magical beasts began...]
"Wow..."
The barrier to entry was too high from the very first sentence. Why were all the history books in this world like this? I boldly skipped the history section and turned to the part about the lifestyle of dwarves.
[Dwarves, average height 4.5 feet.] ...
That meant 137 centimeters.
[Muscular, sturdy build. They take pride in their lush beards and hair.]
"I see."
They were reasonably similar to the dwarves I knew from fantasy. Skilled in metal craft and mechanical engineering, stubborn, and currently residing in the Iron Mountains in the northeast of the continent.
[Furthermore, they do not make false promises and consider wasting time a sin.]
"So this is what the Dean was talking about."
It was a trait that reminded me of a certain philosopher who enjoyed walks. ... The thought of an entire race being like this gave me a slight headache. But that was only for a moment; I didn't turn any more pages.
This was my limit for studying culture. I think my brain is about to cramp up.
".. Should I take a little break?"
I'll just study the floating stone for exactly one hour, then go back to studying dwarves. A truly perfect plan. And so, after 'briefly' fiddling with the mana circuit for the airship and checking the clock...
Six hours had already passed.
"What is this."
Did I inadvertently cast gravity magic near the clock or something? That can't be right. A moment later, with a rhythmic knock, Anna entered the lab.
"What. Were you skipping meals and fiddling with the floating stone again?"
"No, I was just looking at it for a moment."
"Lies."
Such devilish intuition... How did she know? It was then.
Knock, knock.
There was another knock. Naturally, it wasn't Anna this time. Who could it be?
No one else should be coming at this hour. Feeling a little uneasy, I gave a false name just in case.
"This is Howard. What is it?" - But from outside the door, no answer came back.
"Am I hearing things...?"
I opened the door, but there was no one in the hallway. Just as I was about to close the door, thinking I had misheard, a deep voice came from my feet.
"Down here."
Startled, I lowered my head to see someone standing there. A short stature, similar to Anna's. But his shoulders were broad, and a lush brown beard was braided at his chin. Anyone could see this was a dwarf.
"... You must be the delegation that was coming."
"Aye."
The dwarf answered curtly and strode into the lab. It seemed the part about them hating to waste time wasn't just empty words. The dwarf's gaze, which had been scanning the lab, landed on Anna.
For a moment, his eyes widened.
"Ooh... By the world. Such a youthful face. Did you get hit by a reverse-aging curse in some ancient ruins...?"
"Huh? Me?"
Anna pointed at herself with a bewildered expression. The dwarf slowly approached Anna and extended a rough hand.
"Aye. Who else could it be but you. The master of that genius design."
When Anna hesitantly offered her hand, the dwarf shook it vigorously up and down. As he shook her hand, Anna's small body swayed like a paper doll.
"Agh...!"
"A pleasure. I am Balkan, the head of the delegation from the Iron Mountains. Comrade, we finally meet."
"I, I'm Anna! Anna Upperhills!"
Anna screamed in reply.
Thump.
Balkan's hand stopped. He looked up at Anna with a quizzical expression.
"... You're not Isaac?"
"No. Anyone can tell that's a man's name!" ...
I hurriedly stepped between them.
"Actually, I am Isaac."
At my words, Balkan slowly turned his head to look at me.
"You said you were Howard."
"... Actually, I am Isaac."
"Lies. Let's say, giving a hundred concessions, you're a dwarf with gigantism. Even then, your jaw wouldn't be so slender."
"What?"
I carefully mulled over the dwarf's words to understand their meaning.
Gigantism, jaw.
They say that if you suffer from gigantism, your jaw, hands, and feet grow larger. 'So... if I had gigantism, my jaw should be thick, but since it's not, that means I'm not Isaac?' That was a really roundabout inference.
It was logical. But a bit odd. I said to Balkan.
"Isn't there a much simpler solution?"
"What is it."
"That Isaac Upperhills is not a dwarf."
Ha!
Balkan let out a scoff.
"Nonsense. A human made such a design? You might as well tell me a troll wrote a poem. That'd be more believable."
Whether he believed I was Isaac or not didn't really matter. Whatever my name, I was still me. But just now, Balkan had gone beyond me and disregarded the efforts of our workshop.
'He said dwarves don't make false promises.' I said to him.
"If you're so confident, let's make a bet."
"A bet?"
"You can bet your entire fortune."
"... You shouldn't make promises so carelessly, lad."
Balkan crossed his arms and looked up at me askance.
"Fine. If what you say is true, I'll stake my name on it and forge you a weapon."
"You'd better keep that promise."
"Of course! I swear on fire and iron."
Clang! Clang!
The power hammer of the Upperhills Workshop struck the red-hot steel. And Balkan was next to me, watching the scene blankly.
Clang! Clang!
With the sound of the power hammer as a backdrop, I spoke to Balkan.
"See? It's true, isn't it?"
".. I see."
"So you'll make me a weapon, right?"
Balkan replied, his beard trembling slightly.
"Aye..."
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Even at this very moment, the power hammer was vigorously striking the iron.
Balkan muttered.
"... I don't know why you'd need me when you have something like that, but."
His words were tinged with a sense of futility.
"A promise is a promise."
Great.
I've secured a companion to help build the airship. To be precise, he said he'd make a weapon, not an airship... Well, an airship can be used as a weapon, so it should be fine.