The situation was urgent, and Ivan and Enrique had to head straight for the council chamber at the urging of the dwarves, questioning whether Navelun’s words were untrue.

Ivan had rarely seen so many dwarves unarmed, sitting like this. (He meant there had been times before. Now, however, no one could see it anymore.) All the council members except the dwarves who had come out to greet Ivan showed suspicion towards the two humans who had suddenly burst in.

“Have you finally lost your mind? Comrade Navelun! How dare you bring humans to the council chamber?”

“Isn’t it ridiculous? Wasn’t it the council’s initial decision to enlist Shadow Blade’s assistance in gaining Krasilov’s backing?”

The dwarves gestured towards Ivan, who stood with his arms crossed by Navelun’s side.

“I don’t want to repeat the same fuss for nothing, but let me make one thing clear. Do I have a say in this, Navelun?”

“Speak freely. Shadow Blade, you are now an official envoy of Krasilov.”

“Alright, then listen to this, everyone.”

Enrique, chest puffed out, strode towards the center of the council chamber and declared.

“As an official envoy of Krasilov, present Krasilov’s official position, dwarves. Councilors of Andgrund. We are the only support that Krasilov can provide, and…”

Angry shouts erupted among the dwarves. Nonsense! Don’t spout bullshit, human! Are you trying to insult us? And so on.

Enrique spoke without a flinch amidst the chaos in the council chamber.

“We are the most powerful support. Let me introduce myself, I am Enrique, Enrique Ceregeyevika. A member of the Hero Party and the witness who directly killed the demon king. If one were to name the most formidable force within Krasilov, it would undoubtedly be me, a position I have never yielded. Anyone questioning my capabilities is welcome to step forward and request immediate proof.”

The dwarves still wore disgruntled expressions. However, none of them dared to challenge Enrique.

Scanning the audience, Enrique opened her mouth.

“The man here is my apprentice who has mastered everything I taught, the executioner of Abiditas, and the commander of the Counterintelligence Command. Colonel Ivan Petrovich Yermov. If you remember the times well, he would have been a major. Yes. The Tarantula.”

“The Tarantula… Ivan! I heard you were dead!”

“Do you think we’re obligated to reveal national intelligence to you?”

At Enrique’s words, the dwarves fell silent. Their silence was nothing short of coerced. All the council members in this room couldn’t hide their perplexed and fearful expressions.

The atmosphere in the council chamber was clearly changing. The swirling emotions centered around one man were vividly visible. Fear, hatred, anger, and once again, fear.

The Cleanup Units led directly by Ivan inflicted more damage on the dwarves than any single military regime in this world. During the war, dwarves only retreated on one front.

The defeat at that time transcended the realm of tactical domains. The news of defeat did not spread externally. That is, survivors did not return alive to report the defeat.

On the front that suffered defeat, a tremendous loss and expansion occurred. It was only after the number of lost troops exceeded a threshold that the defeat could be recognized and responded to.

As the spy network buried within the mountains gradually darkened, and beyond the shadows of the corridors, all “unexplored zones” turned into “danger zones.”

The dwarves realized fear. The fear that ‘a lone tarantula comes to those left at the end of the corridor.’

“Our enemies are not them, comrades. They are reprimands against the lackeys of Abiditas and those despicable creatures who dare to challenge the authority of the secretary-general. Put down your axes and start a dialogue.”

The crowd regained its composure at Navelun’s words. They looked at Navelun and the two humans with silent eyes and spoke.

“But is it not inappropriate for this ‘Ivan’ to share frontline command? Even if victory is achieved with his help, do we have a future after that? If, in a situation where a direct line to Andgrind is open, Krasilov can fully understand all the corridors beneath our mountains, do our people have a future?”

“Even if not, is there a future?”

Finally, Ivan spoke. The dwarf who spoke first flinched and stepped back.

“The secretary-general’s son is kidnapped, half of the nation is in rebellion, and behind the rebellion lurks the legion of Abiditas. Can you really remedy the situation with your strength alone?”

“…That’s why we requested military support from you.”

“That’s why I’m standing here.”

Ivan walked to the center of the council chamber. He attempted to make eye contact with each dwarf, who were still cowering, one by one.

But none of the dwarves dared to meet his gaze.

“I understand your reluctance to share the frontline of Andgrind. So I won’t force you. Instead, I can make a promise.”

“A promise?”

“Under the assumption that there is no prior information about this area, I can accomplish the mission objectives within six months.”

Ivan was part of the Cleanup Unit, which essentially involved operations infiltrating the enemy’s midst. Even when moving with the Hero Party on the frontline, his goal was to identify and neutralize the anticipated dangers along the party’s route.

Therefore, he specialized in reconnaissance, intelligence gathering, and survival in “unexplored areas.” He had never made a mistake on any front, allowing him to survive even in the Hero Party’s ambush operations.

Hence, this situation, with clear positions of both allies and enemies, was not so much a challenge for him.

Interrogating the first encountered enemy, identifying the location of the enemy’s headquarters, striking the headquarters for interrogation, and then infiltrating towards the next operational point. He was adept at every step of the process.

So.

“If you share the frontline situation with me, I can accomplish the mission objectives within two months.”

“Two months…! Is that even…!”

“And if you transfer frontline situation, substantial field command, and adequate firepower support capabilities to me, I can accomplish the mission objectives within a week.”

“…A…a week!”

The first dwarf to speak hesitantly asked,

“What… are the mission objectives you anticipate?”

“It’s one of two. Either rescuing the secretary-general’s son according to your request. Or annihilating the henchmen of Abiditas behind the war.”

“Both of those…”

“That’s not possible.”

Ivan nodded briefly. Claiming the impossible as possible is the behavior of a charlatan. Trained agents should honestly convey the feasibility assessment of the operation.

“The secretary-general’s son is more like a hostage. Just a deterrent against all of you. The moment the henchmen of Abiditas die, the hostages die too. Conversely, when the hostages are rescued, those without deterrents will surely start an all-out war. At that point, assassination becomes practically impossible.”

“Are you anticipating the current situation?”

“If they had captured hostages, they wouldn’t be engaging in a full-scale war. It’s a sign that they’re stalling for time and provoking delaying tactics, indicating they’re preparing something to overturn the current situation.”

“Any other opinions? I’m all ears.”

This is some kind of test. Is he really Ivan Petrovich, and is he as competent a commander as the rumors suggest? It’s okay. The Cleanup Unit always had to be more competent than rumors.

“The reason the frontline is deadlocked is obvious. Both sides are dwarves. Both defense and offense are excessive.”

Even basic infantry dwarves are heavily armored with near-perfect plate armor. When charging into a melee, the phalanx of clustered dwarf warriors is akin to a solid barrier.

Small firearms are a given, and they easily fend off melee weapons. It was difficult to gain much advantage even with formidable individuals. Therefore, if dwarves engage in a melee battle, the frontline is naturally bound to become unstable.

However, at the same time, dwarf firepower is excessive. They are fundamentally a people who dig underground to build cities.

Contrary to the misconception of many, this does not mean they excavate the ground with shovels and picks. It means they have developed highly sophisticated blasting explosives over their long history.

At this point where all the tunneling machines were lost, dwarf excavation techniques were almost entirely dependent on blasting explosives.

And just as dynamite on Earth, industrial explosives thrown at people become the prototypes of weapons of war.

The dwarves’ war weapons have excessive firepower. They pose an absolute threat when fired on the surface, but not underground. This is because they can easily unleash a single strike that collapses the entire tunnel system.

Unless one wants to collapse the ground across all of Andgrind, the use of weapons had to be restrained in the dwarves’ civil war. It’s akin to how nuclear warfare on Earth is constrained to prevent mutual assured destruction.

“So, those Abiditas lackeys who already know all this must have another trick up their sleeves.”

“If they have another trick up their sleeves…”

“They might be excavating Abiditas’ remains or producing undead forces through large-scale cremation ceremonies. There are many reasons to stall, but information isn’t one of them. Perhaps both.”

Abiditas’ celestial fortress, the “Fortress of Desires,” crashed near the Sky Mountains. Abiditas perished with the destruction of his soul altar, but his body would still be buried somewhere beneath the ground, along with the countless treasures he collected during his lifetime.

It would be natural for Abiditas’ disciples to want to reclaim their master’s legacy. If several hundred years pass, a second Abiditas could be born.

So, one must make their move before such a situation arises.

Ivan sensed a certain fate. The fate of Dragon General, who took away everything Ivan had ever cherished.

Now that he had returned, he would turn everything Abiditas once treasured into ashes and dust.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. It was time to give eternal rest to the revenants who had escaped death.

This was revenge against each other and a memorial for the memories they held.

Ivan closed his eyes.

The memories of that day still echoed in his ears. The testament of all of them was always one and the same.

-Don’t die here.

He reportedly said so with a smile, even as he swallowed death in the presence of his comrades.

The words he uttered when his first comrade held his breath continued until the last breath of his final comrade reached Ivan at last.

He stood alone. The collective will of his strike team had become the determination keeping him going until now. Don’t die here. Let’s not die like this.

For the sake of those who lived with purpose and died with valor. Let me remember them until the very last moment.

When Ivan finally opened his eyes, the audience was staring at him in silence.

“Now I believe. You are indeed the same formidable individual from those days. Will you accept our apology?”

“It’s meaningless.”

Ivan nodded briefly. Rather than indulging in such formalities, it was right to proceed with the operation even a moment faster. The enemy’s strength was increasing quantitatively every hour.

In their ruthless efficiency, the dwarves realized.

They understood why dwarves feared this man during wartime. He was so rational to the point of being terrifying, and he replaced that rationality with competence, which inevitably yielded malevolent results.

“The Secretary wishes to confront you directly. The map of Andgrind’s entire territory will be shared with you during the tactical briefing afterward.”

“Is Durandtline Elavandi still performing the duties of the Secretary?”

“…Would it be too much to ask for at least a honorific?”

“I will keep that in mind.”

Ivan nodded and followed Navelun.

Secretary’s palace was located deep down along a staircase so huge that even five dwarven armored carts couldn’t fill it.

Stone statues of dwarves wielding axes and hammers lined both sides of the stairs, looking down at the approaching visitors.

Ancient dwarven runes in gold were engraved on the arched entrance of the palace. [At the end of this path lies the center of the world.] Typical dwarven arrogance.

Unlike Navelun, who was awestruck, Ivan could remain composed, knowing that the center of the planet couldn’t be just this shallow.

-Kugung.

-Kugugugugugu….

The gate of the palace opened, raising a cloud of dust. The thick stone gate swung open, emitting a metallic clang, clang sound.

Clang, clang, clang. And the sound of hammering on iron. The echoes of sounds reminiscent of a forge reverberated through the vast hall.

How far had he walked? Ivan found himself led to a towering furnace, from which heat was emanating.

“Have you arrived?”

A burly dwarf, covered in dirt and with a weary look, turned his head towards him.

“Meeting the most wanted human in our world brings a new perspective.” (Durandline)

“Except for the Demon Lord and Dragon General, your bounty would have been the highest in our world.” (Ivan)

“And now it’s not?” (Durandline)

“In the future, it won’t be.” (Ivan)

In the midst of peace negotiations forged by the scars of war, the old dwarf chuckled.

“Durandline Elavandi.”

“Ivan Petrovich Yermov.”

“Thank you for making time. It’s not something I’d say from a position of requesting, but I really wanted to see you in person.”

“Were you listening to the deliberations in the council chamber?”

“Isn’t that what surveillance is about?”

Ah. Ivan nodded. True dictators never easily reveal themselves. They knew that the greatest power lies in casting shadows from behind the veil.

“Isn’t it troublesome for the Secretary?”

“Blacksmithing? It doesn’t matter who does it. What matters is who wields it. Whether it’s weapons or equipment, ultimately, it’s about who wields them and what they intend to achieve.”

The Secretary wiped the soot off his cheek with the back of his hand. But since his whole hand was already covered in charcoal, his face ended up even blacker.

He looked at Ivan with a modest smile.

“What weapon do you use?”

“I don’t discriminate.”

“Which one do you prefer?”

“Axe.”

“Wait. Comrade Navelun?”

Navelun, who had been blankly listening to their conversation, stepped forward in astonishment.

“Yes, Comrade Secretary!”

“Open the treasure vault and hand him the best weapon. If he wants something, give it to him, even if it means raiding all of Andgrind.”

The Secretary looked at Ivan with transparent eyes, then turned back to the anvil and stood beside it. He placed the piece of iron he had been hammering on the anvil and raised the hammer.

“In exchange, return us half of the remaining mountains in this range.”

“So be it.”

“It’s a deal then. Tell your master that we expect the next envoy to be from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Now go.”

Without waiting for a reply, the Secretary began hammering away.

After a brief bow, Ivan moved along with Navelun. The sound of hammering echoed behind him.

A man as tough as steel.

If Ivan were to return someday under the banner of Krasilov to reconquer this underground city, it wouldn’t be easy. With that thought in mind…

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