Death March to the Parallel World Rhapsody

Satou here. I remember being surprised when I first read a fantasy novel that wrote how even female dwarves had beards.

Lately, the trend of loli dwarves also seems questionable, but if I had to choose between a bearded dwarf woman and a loli dwarf, I’d be at a loss.

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When I thought of dwarves, I imagined them living inside caves. But according to the information gathered from the full map exploration, about half of them live normally in fortress cities. The other half live in mines adjacent to towns, exactly as expected.

This dwarf autonomous territory isn’t very large. It spans roughly a 20-kilometer radius in the mountains. Inside the territory, there’s one city called Boruehart and two villages. The city has a population of 30,000: 20,000 dwarves with an average level of 5 to 6, 4,000 rat tribe members, 2,000 rabbit tribe members, 2,000 human tribe members, 1,000 weasel tribe members, and 1,000 other demi-humans. There were no Elves. I wonder if that means they really don’t get along?

The weasel tribe and human tribe members seem to be mostly merchants, judging by their affiliations and skills.

Among the dwarves, about ten individuals are above level 40. The highest level is an old dwarf named Dohal. If I’m not mistaken, he was the creator of Tolma (the middle-aged guy)’s dagger. He’s at level 51. As expected from dwarves, many are formidable.

There were no demon race, transferees, or reincarnators. Looks like this time will be peaceful.

Around the city there are farmlands, but they’re not cultivated by dwarves; instead, beastmen like the rat tribe and rabbit tribe work the fields. It doesn’t seem to be slavery.

A line has formed in front of Boruehart City’s main gate, waiting to enter.

The wagon stopped at the very end to wait for our turn.

“About 20th in line? Looks like we’ll be waiting quite a bit.”

“Yeah,” I replied.

Arisa was climbing onto my body, looking over the line from the other side.

I felt my hem being pulled gently, and when I turned around, not only Pochi and Tama but even Mia were waiting in line. Since climbing up was wearing out their clothes, I carried them on my shoulders one by one. Mia was wearing a skirt, so instead of a piggyback, I lifted her by the waist, but for some reason that was unpopular.

“No discrimination!”

“It’s not discrimination, it’s distinction. If you wore pants, I’d piggyback you.”

“Hmmph.”

About half the wagons waiting had human tribe passengers.

“Pochi, Tama, watch out for theft behind the wagon.”

“Yessir!”

“Roger that!”

Liza, who had gone to scout near the gate, returned and gave instructions to Pochi and Tama.

“Master, it appears weasels are coming in and out of this town. They’re crafty, so please be careful.”

“Got it, thanks, Liza.”

If I remember right, the weasel tribe were the ones who destroyed Liza’s village too.

“Big brother, want to buy some potatoes? They’re delicious!”

A weasel tribe woman with broken speech came by selling boiled potatoes. One coin each. That’s three times the usual price. Why does she sound like a fake Chinese person?

“Big brother, forget those potato girls’ potatoes, yakitori is better. Boruehart’s rock salt is plentiful, you know? Three coins per skewer.”

“Sir, it’s definitely meat – the grilled toad from the mine underground is chewy and satisfying.”

I hope that toad is an edible species.

It smelled good, but I’d just eaten breakfast, so I declined. Pochi and Tama looked a bit disappointed, but overeating is bad.

While waiting, not only the weasel tribe but also rat tribe and rabbit tribe children came selling sandals and ropes. I only checked prices and didn’t buy.

Mia came back from the front with something in her mouth.

“Satou.”

Mia offered me what looked like a yellow stem, and I bit into it.

Sweet.

Not like sugar, more like flower nectar. It reminded me of when I was little and sucked nectar from azalea flowers growing by the roadside. Nostalgic.

“Ah!”

“That was an indirect kiss, right?! Hey, next it’s my turn!”