The Problematic Child of the Magic Tower
Chapter 70: The White Anvil Tribe (4)
King Gordin momentarily doubted his ears.
A word had come from the lips of this young human—so sharp and blue-eyed—that it was impossible to ignore.
‘Sergeant Gordin?’
Before he could wonder how the other person knew that term, vivid memories from that time began to flood his mind.
It had been that long since he last heard those words.
‘Yes, that’s right.’
Before being addressed as His Majesty the King, he had been known as a prince or even a sergeant.
They say memories sweeten over time, and the recollections of fighting on the battlefield alongside the great hero, Oscar Sage, resurfaced vividly.
Gordin, momentarily submerged in nostalgia, quickly composed himself and asked,
“How does a young human know that title?”
“What do you think?”
“Hmm. If the White Tower preserved wartime records, you could have read them, or perhaps a connection with... hmm?”
As Gordin answered seriously, he belatedly realized that the other’s tone had changed.
Noticing this, his expression immediately darkened.
“Such insolence—utterly audacious. Have you forgotten who stands before you?”
“Forgotten? No. Couldn’t forget, even if I wanted to. How could I?”
Oscar chuckled faintly, shrugging his shoulders.
“Do you know how much time I invested in shaping you into a capable commander?”
“......What nonsense are you speaking now?”
“Do you truly not know, or are you pretending not to?”
Whoosh!
Oscar’s magic filled the courtroom.
It was a soft, warm energy that stirred nostalgia simply by being present.
As Gordin recognized that achingly familiar magic, his gaze turned cold—unfathomably so.
“......Are you a pawn of the demon clans? No, there’s no need to ask such questions.”
He could find out for himself.
Rising from his seat, he gripped the gavel tightly.
He had encountered countless demons pretending to be his superior and benefactor.
The reason for such impersonations was simple.
‘Because it’s effective.’
This was the first instance since the war had ended, but during the conflict, there had been countless such encounters.
Merely imitating Oscar’s face and magic yielded significant gains.
‘And so, we made a rule among ourselves.’
The courtroom atmosphere grew oppressive, the air thick with Gordin’s fury and murderous intent.
‘If I’m ever unsure whether the person before me is truly Oscar Sage...’
‘Show hostility first.’
If the person were indeed the real Oscar Sage, they would prove their identity with a passphrase.
“Let’s start by bringing you to your knees!”
Gordin leapt forward, aiming to strike the figure before him squarely on the head with his gavel.
But as he did, Oscar moved his lips with a determined expression.
“If I were to kneel here...”
Gordin’s gavel froze inches above Oscar’s head, trembling slightly.
Glaring at the human before him, Gordin spoke in a shaking voice.
“......Even if my heart were pierced by thousands of spears and swords?”
Oscar smiled warmly and replied playfully.
“You’d still have to look up at me.”
It was a passphrase crafted purely to tease Gordin about his stature as a dwarf.
Every time they exchanged this passphrase, Gordin would huff and puff in fiery indignation, insisting that while he might be short, he’d still be taller than someone kneeling before him.
‘And whenever I suggested we measure, he’d always find some excuse to avoid it.’
This time, however, Gordin didn’t get angry.
Instead, he slowly withdrew his gavel and looked at Oscar with a dazed expression.
“......Am I dreaming right now?”
“Why? Did you wish on a star for me to appear in your dreams?”
“Well, seeing how much I want to punch your mouth shut... it seems like it really is you.”
“Sit.”
With a small whoosh, Oscar moved to a seat and gestured.
“We have a lot to talk about.”
When Oscar first awakened in his current, smaller body, he faced a significant dilemma.
‘Should I reveal my identity to anyone? And if so, to whom?’
It was a question he couldn’t resolve, no matter how many times he deliberated.
Even for those he thought he knew well, the standard remained strict.
‘For instance, I haven’t revealed myself to Maxim, either.’
Though he hadn’t yet met his disciples or the emperor, he doubted he would easily disclose his identity to them either.
One can see ten fathoms into water, but not even one into another’s heart.
‘Too much time has passed.’
Twenty years—a span more than sufficient to alter a person’s character and values.
Thus, Oscar made a decision.
‘Fine. If I am to reveal my identity to anyone...’
At most, there were only two people he would consider.
One was Edna Sol Laplace, and the other was Gordin.
“Wow, you trusted me that much?”
Gordin seemed genuinely moved, but Oscar doused the sentiment with cold water.
“What are you talking about? Don’t flatter yourself. I didn’t trust you—I trusted the Primordial Flame.”
The dwarves revered and worshipped the Primordial Flame.
And for good reason—it was the flame that created and sent them into this world.
‘The flame that purges all evil in the world.’
The reason dwarves eternally maintained the appearance of children was related to this.
The Primordial Flame despised those who lost their innocence.
‘Not that there’s any reason their outward appearance needed to match...’
But what could one do if their creator willed it so?
For this reason, there was no such thing as a bad dwarf.
It wasn’t just a metaphor; it was a literal impossibility.
‘If a dwarf ever allied with evil or became corrupted, they would burn to death on the spot.’
No wonder there’s a saying: "You might not trust your parents or children, but you can always trust a dwarf."
“But I never imagined I’d be tricked by dwarves in a contract scam.”
“A-a contract scam? That’s absurd!”
Gordin flinched and hastily defended himself.
“I didn’t know about the exclusive contract between you all, but even if I had, it wouldn’t have changed my decision.”
“Because protecting the dwarves is the king’s top priority?”
“Exactly. That’s what the Primordial Flame desires as well. After all, it was humans who were at fault first, wasn’t it?”
That’s true.
Ahem.
Clearing his throat, Gordin quickly changed the subject.
“There’s a lot I want to ask, but first... how exactly did you come back to life?”
“I don’t know.”
Oscar replied irresponsibly.
“Looking at me like that won’t help. I really don’t know. Besides, it’s not so much that I came back to life; it’s more accurate to say I was possessed.”
“Possessed, you say... Someone must’ve meddled with your soul.”
“Probably. When I opened my eyes, twenty years had passed. You’re somewhat aware of the current state of the White Tower, right?”
“I heard that all the disciples left, save for one. And that its prestige isn’t what it used to be.”
“That’s right. I was busy sorting things out right after I woke up. I think I’ve only just started getting things back in shape, and now I’m beginning to move forward.”
He turned his gaze toward Gordin.
“I met the Nightmare Baron recently.”
“What!?”
Gordin’s eyes widened in shock.
“A-are you serious?”
“Of course. But... the information about him was strictly controlled. That made me even more curious.”
Oscar’s eyes darkened.
“Tell me what the demons have been up to over the past twenty years.”
Information about them couldn’t be found in newspapers or books, as though they had been erased from history, much like the dragons.
Hearing this, Gordin nodded gravely.
“It’s true. The imperial family has been controlling information. Demons are a very sensitive topic for humanity. It’s crucial to create an atmosphere where people forget about their existence as quickly as possible.”
“What about the information you know?”
“...The most recent I have is from four years ago, when they encountered the Imperial Army near the Red Mountains.”
Four years ago.
Oscar murmured with a glimmer in his eyes.
“It didn’t end well, did it?”
“No, surprisingly, they just observed the Imperial Army from a distance and then retreated.”
“...What?”
Demons, who loved fighting and despised humans, avoided a battle?
Gordin’s voice deepened as he read Oscar’s reaction.
“That’s why the concern is growing. The Imperial Family is even suggesting reforming the World Alliance using that incident as a pretext.”
The World Alliance included not just humans, but dwarves, elves, and faeries as well.
From past research, Oscar knew it had been disbanded after the war.
“It’s definitely unsettling. Their behavior is different from the demons we used to know.”
“They’ve started to change. It might even be called evolution. What’s important is that such radical changes usually....”
“Have a reason.”
The most common reason?
A change in leadership.
“As you’ve probably guessed, it’s possible they have a second leader now.”
“...A second leader.”
The first leader who unified the demons was the worst kind of enemy.
Not only was he capable and strong, but also cunning and ruthless.
‘If so, the revival of the Night of the Magic might be tied to this.’
If the demons were truly rising again, the Empire would also feel the need to reorganize its forces.
Frowning deeply, Oscar spoke.
“Have you ever heard of a group called the Black Fingers?”
“You mean those demon worshipers?”
“Yes. Be wary of them. If the demons have really changed, the biggest change will be their approach.”
In the previous war, they trusted their power and confronted humanity head-on.
They lost everything, including their leader, in a devastating defeat.
“They must’ve realized that no matter how strong you are, you have to move more cautiously.”
“...That’s a terrifying thought.”
Understanding the implication, Gordin swallowed hard.
The idea that demons might be using the Black Fingers to work in secret was chilling.
“If that’s true, humanity, softened by twenty years of peace, may not be ready to handle it.”
“It’s the future we’ve longed for, but it’s still concerning.”
“...What will you do?”
“What else can I do? Start with what I can do now.”
Strengthen the White Tower.
Prepare for the day the demons rise again and launch another war.
“Speaking of which, I need your help.”
“You mean... the White Anvil Clan?”
“That’s right. I want to borrow the strength of the dwarves to restore and strengthen the White Tower quickly.”
“Hm.”
After some hesitation, Gordin reluctantly nodded.
“Personally, I don’t like dealing with humans, but if it’s you, I’ll make an exception.”
“Thanks.”
“Between us, there’s no need for thanks.”
“True, especially since I helped raise the sheltered prince from La Forge into the man you are today.”
“...Quiet.”
Gordin’s face flushed red, and he stood up before more embarrassing stories could be brought up.
“The Dwarven Kingdom will also maximize external activities to gather information on the demons and the Black Fingers.”
“I’m counting on you.”
“Then I’ll summon the clan leaders now.”
“Oh, just to be clear....”
“This conversation will remain buried, even in my grave.”
That’s exactly what Oscar expected.
He smiled softly at his old comrade, who had now become the ruler of a nation.

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