Chapter 55: Dwarven Invention

“What is that?” Henrek asked incredulously as he looked at everything Utarou had managed to swindle from the Dwarves. Rhiney was sleeping after a hard journey, his harness having been repaired and improved by the dwarven craftsmen at Juniors demand for it to be more comfortable for the dragon, the haul of weaponry and technology sprawled out where a house used to be.

Every single piece of equipment they hadn’t blown up was now in Dryholm.

“Never mind that! Where is the boy?!” May screamed, pushing through the crowd to find Junior, who was scratching Rhiney’s chin.

“Uh oh…” Junior gulped as he saw his mother approaching.

She was angry.

She was terrified.

She was torn between hitting the boy and hugging him.

So she did both.

“ARGH! Never do that again ye little idjit!” May wailed as she hugged Junior so tightly he thought she might just snap his neck.

“O-okay! S-stop! I can’t… breathe…” Junior gasped with his mother seemingly not hearing or not caring.

Hope ran into her husband’s arms and scooped up Lilly.

“Mama!” Lilly cooed, her glowing red eyes matching her mothers own glowing yellow eyes.

“Where’s Julia?” Henrek asked seriously as he noticed his pink slime sister was absent.

“Right here!” Bluelia asserted, sliding into the conversation almost confrontationally.

“O-Oh, it’s a long story but… She’s safe. Don’t worry.” Hope explained, clearly, looking deep into her husband’s eyes.

Henrek scowled.

“Fine, I trust you. Penelope is with her then?” Henrek summarised, noting the other absence.

“Yes, they’re staying with the dwarves. We have this… Magic… Ear?” Hope explained unconfidently. Utarou had spent much of the journey back trying to explain the concept of radio to the woman, who simply couldn’t grasp it.

Henrek looked to Utarou, who was smugly holding the device.

It was a large wooden and metal box with a dial, a speaker built into the box and a microphone in the shape of a metal cone on a coiled wire. Its side had a large compartment for its magical battery which was the component Utarou needed to figure out the fastest.

The dwarves may have readily handed over their equipment, but their knowledge was still sacrosanct.

“Ooo baby, I’m looking forward to this…” Utarou grinned as he caressed his new machine, all of his goodies were getting him his long deserved overpowered boost that every isekai protagonist was owed.

The bill of goods was simple.

Twelve rifles, three charged.

The base to set up a mana canon, uncharged.

The radio along with a transmitter that could cover the distance.

And Rhiney’s new and improved harness, the only real difference was superior craftsmanship and better fitting for the dragon.

“Julia! You’re looking different, why? Did you unlock those skills? Do you have those skills?” Utarou suddenly asked, noting how she’d become a shade darker since he’d last seen her.

“E-eh? So the other one must’ve got it at the same time then.” Bluelia sighed, opening her skill tree to reveal it had been rapidly filled in.

Almost entirely Tier 1 skills, things like “Increased Splitting” or “Improved Durability”.

The only new Tier 2 skill was “Rapid Reconstitution", which Julia had also unlocked, having fully run out of her Skill Points.

“Yep! She didn’t want to pick any though,” Utarou sighed. Henrek looked around, the rest of Dryholm was looking at the weaponry and the garrison was coming out in force.

“ALRIGHT! Garrison, you put everything in storage before anyone else sees this! Utarou, come, we need to discuss the plan. Winter is nearly over.”

…

“S-so… You uh… All live down here huh?” Pinklia asked awkwardly, walking onto the stone platform.

They’d been kept in a dark wagon, made as comfortable as you could be in that situation, and taken to the inner heartland of the Clan Assynt.

And as dwarves were, they weren’t too keen on outsiders knowing anything more than the bare minimum about it.

“Aye, we be creatures of the inside y’know. All that reconnaissance ain’t good for our constitutions!” Meachin laughed.

Aitkens had gone ahead along with the rest of the platoon, leaving Meachin to handle the girls.

Penelope was busy writing down every rune she could, trying to figure out the language from the tapestry that had been chiseled into the stone walls, cross referencing her very basic runic knowledge with what she could identify.

“Miss, if ya are so inclined on learnin’ ‘bout our history then perhaps ye could-”

“HOLD IT! I think I’ve figured out which rune is an article… or a possessive… Maybe it’s a plural?” Penelope snapped, pointing to a regularly repeating symbol that appeared regularly throughout the text.

“Hah, that be Assynt, all encompassing. Looky, here it means belonging to Assynt, here it means of Clan Assynt and here it means Assyntitself.” Meachin explained jovially, he’d never met someone with such a naked lust for learning.

“Of course! And this must be another proper noun right?!” Penelope exclaimed, pointing to a similarly complex rune.

“Aye, it means Clan Riddon, buncha dirty cowards, ye a fast learner missy!”

“Thank you, I take my studies quite seriously,” Penelope boasted as the platform suddenly began to move, causing both her and Pinklia to startle.

“HAH! Relax! We’ve been approved by the Clanmaster. Ya about to see somethin’ I don’t think a human’s ever seen, and certainly no slimenoid!” Meachin laughed as the loud cranking of gears lowered the two women deep under the earth.

Penelope could only stare as the tapestry continued.

And continued.

And continued down the long trip.

“Is uh, does this normally take so long?” Penelope asked several minutes after giving up trying to read and document the sheer amount of history that had been carved.

“Well, the Errata needs to be precise. Only had enough room for the first summary,” Meachin sighed.

“S-summary?”

“Aye, the real book would take ya to the other side of the planet and back several times over!” Meachin laughed.

“I-Is this a dwarf thing or a Clan Assynt thing…?” Penelope asked nervously.

“Bah, we’re pretty conservative with who gets to go into the Errata, those punks in Clan Eriboll are the ones who hold too many grudges, says right ‘ere see,” Meachin said, pointing to a row that quickly passed by.

“Oh boy…” Penelope gulped, looking at Pinklia.

“So, how do you get in the book…?” Pinklia asked nervously.

“Only serious offences lass! Don’t be rude and ya will be fine. Ya have me word.” Meachin swore.

Pinklia could only feel herself shrink, hoping she could force herself into a more polite shape.

Penelope on the other hand felt somewhat cheated; the only information she’d managed to get was a glorified book of grudges.

Eventually, the elevator stopped, the stone doors opening to reveal the grand underground cave that was, the Clan Assynt grand hall.

It was immense.