The Indomitable Martial King

Completely naked now, Repenhardt first blocked his senses. It was crucial not to let other senses interfere as he focused his mind on the magic resonance. Then, he leapt onto the magrim.

Slap!

Repenhardt spread his limbs wide and adhered in a spread-eagle position to the scorching surface of the fireball. Although he was stuck to the ball of fire, it wasn’t hot at all. Once the resonance of magic occurred, the heat from the magrim couldn’t harm him.

The problem was that no matter how one looked at it, he resembled a frog stuck to a wall under the scorching midsummer sun.

The sight of the muscular man, his rear fully exposed and sticking tightly, was indeed a frightful scene that could haunt one’s dreams. It might have a profound effect on someone needing weight control. Clearly, it was a sight not meant to be shown to others.

‘It absolutely can’t happen! I can’t show this sight to anyone! Especially not to Siris!’

Feeling relieved that he had made sure no one could approach, Repenhardt continued to cling to the magrim. As the surface of the magrim moved about, so did Repenhardt. Each movement caused red heat to shimmer over his bronze buttocks.

Just as fish need to be flipped to cook evenly and brown nicely, Repenhardt decided it was time to shift the resonance to the front after a while. He straightened his back and pressed it against the magrim, inevitably causing something(!) in the front to swing.

‘Oh, what a sight this is, alas…’

But to achieve his dream, Repenhardt knew he must overcome even minor hardships! With a flushed face, he struggled to turn his body over. He fervently wished for the day his constitution would improve.

‘At least no one is watching. If someone were to see me like this… ugh…’

However, Repenhardt was unaware that there were secretly placed surveillance holes in the corner of the chamber, using mirror reflections. This chamber, where the solar magrim was located, was among the most critical places for the dwarves. It was necessary to always keep an eye on it in case something went wrong.

About 30 meters from the chamber was the magrim observation room.

There, a group of dwarf matrons were swallowing their saliva as they watched the reflection in the mirror.

“Look at that back. It’s finely sculpted. Ah, our husbands are nothing compared to this.”

“Look at those forearms.”

“His buttocks are so plump.”

These were veteran housewives who had been married for decades. The shame of seeing a naked man was a thing of the past for them. They were all joyously admiring Repenhardt’s muscles. Despite being called matrons, dwarf women often looked youthful, appearing like girls with only their bosoms being voluptuous. It was a terrifying sight as these seemingly teenage-like women gathered, exchanging risqué jokes.

“Oh my! He’s turning over! He’s turning over!”

“Look at that thick chest.”

“And he’s got some real goods there.”

“How nice~.”

Of course, Repenhardt, unaware of any of this, continued to rub his entire body against the magrim.

‘At least no one is watching. What a relief, let’s keep at it!’

* * *

On the fortieth day of his stay at the Grand Forge, Repenhardt was shouting with joy inside the stone chamber where the magrim was located.

“It’s done!”

He beamed a wide smile, lifting both hands to his chest, and began to chant softly.

“Hast Garatad Delpinard. Hahnseol’s son, being of the northern wind, come forth by my will! Frost Elementor!”

His hands shimmered, forming a fierce magical storm in the air. Soon, a swirling vortex of ice over three meters tall sprang up, scattering coldness all around. Repenhardt grinned broadly. He had successfully summoned the Frost Elementor, a fifth circle summoning spell of the ice spirits.

“Good, it worked as expected.”

With a wave of his hand, the Frost Elementor soon disappeared. Still feeling the aftereffects of the magic tingling in his right hand, Repenhardt looked down with a satisfied expression.

No matter how much he meditated, until now, his innate magical power had been too low to employ spells above the fourth circle. But now, he could handle up to the fifth circle, and with some effort, even sixth circle spells were within reach.

His constitution improvement was finally complete. No longer did he need to expose his rear and roll over fireballs!

Overcome with emotion, Repenhardt quickly put on his trousers first. Then, finally relaxed, he muttered to himself.

“Phew, I planned for a month, but it took 40 days. Why does this body of mine always have to be so resistant to magic?”

Repenhardt concentrated and measured his magical power. His body’s formerly meager magical power had astonishingly increased, now seemingly reaching the level he had in his mid-twenties.

“All that’s left is to travel around and increase my magic power.”

There was no longer any business for him in this place. With a relieved expression, Repenhardt left the stone chamber. He walked briskly through the Grand Forge, heading back to his lodging while pondering his next steps.

‘Should I start by searching for the relics of the Four Gods? Or, since it’s nearly spring, maybe I should visit the Chatan Duchy first? If I follow Makelin’s advice, I’ll need to stop by the Crovence Kingdom too. I guess I should start by visiting the ruins and go from there.’

Lost in his thoughts, Repenhardt moved along. Now that his constitution improvement was complete, his steps felt remarkably light. How anxiously had he clung to the magrim over the past 40 days, fearing discovery? Every day was a continuous strain of nervousness.

‘But in the end, I wasn’t caught. Hahaha.’

Repenhardt continued walking with a proud smile. Although the dwarf women on the street were showing peculiar behaviors—smiling slyly, nodding without reason, and even giving thumbs-ups—poor Repenhardt, oblivious to all, merely strode along cheerfully.

Upon reaching his lodging, he saw Sillan doing pull-ups. Repenhardt was slightly impressed.

‘Huh? This guy, he’s gained some muscle?’

During the 40 days, Sillan had focused solely on physical training, having sealed his healing magic. He had changed quite a bit—although not to the extent of becoming notably manly. Had he transformed from a frail, delicate beauty to a lively, healthy one? Considering that Sillan was indeed a man, there was still a long way to go.

But to speak such truth outright was not the attitude of an adult. After moistening his lips slightly, Repenhardt spoke.

“Wow! Sillan, you’ve become quite manly, haven’t you?”

“Huh?”

Having just finished his pull-ups, Sillan stopped wiping his sweat and turned around with a surprised look. He quickly ran over and asked.

“Really? Does it really show that much?”

“Of course…”

As Repenhardt nodded, Sillan’s face lit up with joy. Feeling somewhat guilty, Repenhardt averted his gaze. After all, Sillan had indeed grown taller, and it wasn’t like the changes were entirely unnoticeable.

Suddenly, Sillan tilted his head in confusion.

“But why are you back so early? It’s not even mealtime.”

“Ah, I’ve finally finished.”

Sillan immediately understood what had ended.

“So, you’ll be leaving the Grand Forge soon?”

“Yes.”

At that, Sillan’s face showed a mix of emotions, and Repenhardt let out a forced laugh.

“Why? Have you grown so fond of this place that you don’t want to leave?”

“Well, there’s that, but…”

In truth, besides his physical training, Sillan had been busy spreading the teachings of Philanence to the dwarves during his rest periods. Since Philanence’s teachings were essentially akin to a guide on romance or a manual for marital life, they had been quite popular among the dwarves. It seems that issues of love and relationships transcend species, garnering empathy from everyone.

Given his efforts, it was natural for Sillan to want to see the results, and his hesitation to leave was understandable.

However, that wasn’t the only reason Sillan was feeling awkward.

“The thing is, Mr. Russ suddenly got a feeling and, like you, rented a chamber to seclude himself.”

Apparently, Russ, who had been sparring frequently with a dwarf aura master, had an epiphany two days ago and had since sequestered himself in a quiet room.

“He took about a week’s worth of food and said not to let anyone in until he decides to come out himself.”

“No wonder I haven’t seen Russ around lately…”

Repenhardt clicked his tongue. It was not uncommon for martial artists who had awakened their aura to seek solitude after gaining enlightenment, occasionally isolating themselves from the world for days. He had heard that his master, Gerard, had similar experiences in his youth. Of course, Repenhardt had never experienced such martial enlightenment himself, so he just accepted it for what it was.

‘Already an enlightenment? How long has it been since he awakened his aura?’

While Repenhardt, nearly four years into his aura awakening, had yet to experience such an epiphany, Russ had seemingly grasped something significant and immediately commenced his practice. Perhaps he truly was a prodigy?

Understanding the situation, Repenhardt smacked his lips.

“Well, he won’t be coming out for a while, then.”

Opportunities like this don’t come often in life. Indeed, they may never come at all. Such precious moments must not be missed, so now it was a matter of waiting for Russ to come out on his own.

“Well, staying a few more days before we depart won’t cause any major issues. Oh, but what about Tilla and Siris?”

“Tilla is training with other dwarf warriors. Siris said she went out for a walk… I’m not sure where she is right now.”

* * *

As she watched the young dwarf children swinging wooden hammers and axes around a skillfully carved wooden drake, Siris felt a pang of nostalgia. The dwarf children, embodying their culture even in play, wielded toys that were so finely crafted they could function as real weapons in human hands.

They struck the wooden drake from all angles. Though it was just a game now, one day these children would become true warriors, bearing steel weapons to fight for their tribe. Their expressions were utterly serious, a testament to their future responsibilities.

Standing a bit apart on the stairs, Siris watched them with a distant gaze.

The noisy children overlaid by faint images like ghosts—images of a harsh wasteland where the sun mercilessly scorched the earth, and small elf children, from Siris’s own past, raced across it.

“I caught a Sakko lizard!”

“I found Silphard grass!”

“Wow, that root tastes good!”

It was a harsh environment where gathering daily sustenance was the entirety of their routine, a tough life for the young elves of the Danhaim clan. For them, playing was a survival act, just like collecting food to help the adults. Their play, much like that of these dwarf children, was training for survival—not a life of ample food as might be had by elves or dwarfs raised by human hands.

Yet, those young elves had smiles on their faces, just like the dwarf children before her.

“Ah…”

Feeling a bitter wind sweeping through her, Siris sighed weakly. It was a memory from decades ago, thought to be forgotten, believed to be something she would never recall again.

‘Why is it that seeing these children brings back memories so painfully vivid?’ she wondered. These were memories from a childhood she had surrendered, with no lingering attachments or dreams left.

Siris smiled weakly, lost in the throes of her thoughts. It was then that something happened.