He didn’t expect that from her—Liza had never been the loud type—but caution felt appropriate, especially now.
Liza stepped inside quietly, her gaze immediately drawn to the unconscious girl lying beneath the blankets. She studied her carefully, brows furrowed.
“She’s not human, is she?” Liza asked quietly, her eyes fixed on the still figure.
“No. That much is clear,” Belamus replied.
“I heard there was someone else with her. What happened?” Liza continued, glancing around the room.
“The woman who brought her here… her body vanished,” Belamus said, his voice low. “All that’s left is her armor.”
He gestured toward the pile of equipment laid respectfully beside the cot. But Liza’s attention wasn’t on the armor; it was on the crimson gemstone resting nearby.
“And that gem?” she asked, her tone sharpening with curiosity.
“It belonged to the woman. It’s imbued with an incredible amount of magical energy,” Belamus said with quiet awe. He watched as Liza stepped closer, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied the gem.
After a long pause, she placed her fingers gently against her chin, thinking deeply. “I might know what she is.”
Belamus’s eyes sharpened. “You do?”
Liza nodded slowly. “I believe she’s a dwarf.”
It was a name Belamus had never heard before. Liza began to explain.
Dwarves, she said, were a demi-human race known for their short stature—about half the height of humans. Male dwarves were easily identified by their full beards, while females often looked strikingly similar to human women. They were said to live deep underground, hidden from the world, their exact location known to almost no one. Renowned for their craftsmanship and mechanical ingenuity, dwarves possessed both keen intellect and unmatched skill with their hands. Their technology, especially in weapon forging, was rumored to exceed that of humans—enough to make them a potential threat.
“And when a dwarf dies,” Liza continued, “their body transforms into a gemstone saturated with magical energy. Among humans, those gems can be sold for a fortune. That’s why there are foolhardy types who hunt for the dwarves’ underground kingdom, hoping to profit from their deaths.”
Belamus’s gaze returned to the crimson jewel resting beside the armor. So that’s what this is… her final form.
It was a strange, almost tragic reality: that a person’s body could become a coveted magical artifact. But what intrigued him just as much was how Liza had known any of this.
“You seem familiar with dwarves,” he said, his tone cautious. “How?”
“They’re a fairly well-known race,” Liza replied, tilting her head. “I’m surprised you didn’t know about them, Lord Belamus. I thought everything I said was common knowledge.”
“Is that so?” Belamus murmured, one brow arching slightly as he processed the unexpected gap in his knowledge.
“Mhm. Where I grew up, almost everyone had at least heard of dwarves,” Liza said with a small nod, her voice thoughtful. “I’m not exactly an expert on other races myself, so if I know about them, I imagine most people do.”
That answer gave Belamus pause. In his previous life, dwarves had either been unknown or so obscure that they’d escaped even the vast networks of magical and political knowledge he’d once mastered. Perhaps they had only emerged, or been discovered, after his death and reincarnation. Or perhaps the race had always existed, hidden deep underground, out of reach of humanity’s eyes.
It was also possible they were somehow connected to halflings. The language Mimi spoke matched theirs exactly. Could the dwarves be an evolved form of the halflings? Or an entirely different race that just happened to share a language?
“I’d heard of dwarves before,” Liza added, “but this is the first time I’ve actually seen one. They don’t exactly show themselves in public often.”
“Not surprising, if they live underground,” Belamus murmured, his thoughts turning toward darker implications. “But what would drive someone like that to come here? She mentioned something about a curse… and being hunted.”
The dwarf knight had died before she could explain everything, but her last words painted a grim picture: an exile, a curse, and a kingdom that had cast her out. Whatever had happened, it wasn’t peaceful.
The only one who might know the full story now was Mimi. Whether she could tell them, however, was another question entirely.
Belamus glanced toward the girl lying quietly on the cot. Judging by her size, she looked to be about three years old, but dwarves were smaller than humans. She might be older than she appeared. If she were truly three, getting a clear account of events from her would be nearly impossible. If she were closer to ten, she might be able to explain, but even then, there was another risk: if she woke up and found her guardian gone, would she think they had something to do with it?
That misunderstanding could be disastrous. Beresdral was home to humans, goblins, orcs, and other races. Not a single dwarf among them. Would she even trust what they told her? If she didn’t believe them, Belamus knew he’d have no choice but to earn her trust, slowly and patiently. He had already given his word. No matter how long it took, he was prepared to see it through.
And so, he waited.
Hours passed in silence as they watched over the sleeping girl. Then, at last—
“… Nn.”
A soft sound slipped from Mimi’s lips. Her body shifted slightly beneath the blanket, and after a few slow, groggy movements, her eyes cracked open. Half-lidded and unfocused, she blinked at the unfamiliar ceiling, then sat up unsteadily, like someone caught between dream and waking. Her gaze drifted around the room in a daze.
She yawned once, long and drawn out, then mumbled, “Hm? Where am I?”
The question came out half-slurred, her head tilting with puzzled curiosity. She paused like that for several seconds, then her eyes flew wide open.
“Where am I?! Who are you?!” Mimi shouted, her voice cracking as panic surged through her, eyes darting wildly around the unfamiliar room.
The shout echoed through the hall. Whatever fog had clouded her mind was gone now, replaced by sharp panic. She was clearly overwhelmed: confused, frightened, and utterly unprepared to find herself in a strange place surrounded by strangers.
“Easy now,” Belamus said gently, keeping his voice calm and even. “We’re not here to hurt you.”
His reassurance didn’t reach her. Her eyes darted around the room, her breath growing quicker.
“Where’s Kuusha?!” she cried out, panic continuing to rise in her voice. “Where’s Kuusha?!”
“Kuusha,” Belamus repeated, crouching slightly to meet her eye. “That was the woman with you, wasn’t she? The knight?”
Mimi nodded so hard it shook her whole body.
Belamus hesitated. There was no easy way to say this. His eyes drifted toward the armor and the crimson gemstone resting beside it, Kuusha’s only remains. He considered hiding the truth to spare the girl the immediate pain. But if she found out later that he’d lied… the damage to her trust would be far greater. No. She deserved honesty.
“I’m sorry. But she’s gone,” Belamus said quietly, his voice heavy with the weight of truth, each word measured with care.
Mimi followed his gaze. Her eyes locked on the familiar armor first, then slowly shifted to the gem. For a long moment, she didn’t move. Then, wordlessly, she climbed off the cot and walked toward it. She knelt down and picked up the stone, cradling it in both hands.