"Little ones, stay sharp! Don't let anything go wrong!"
Giant Axe's booming voice echoed through the mine tunnel. Fine sand and gravel even rustled down from overhead, and the dwarves passing by visibly quickened their pace by several degrees.
Only then did Giant Axe nod in satisfaction. He picked up the axe nearly as tall as he was, slung it across his back, and headed toward the mine's exit.
Perhaps, in a sense, the axe was his true body.
After passing through the crisscrossing mine shafts where every race except dwarves would lose their way, Giant Axe emerged onto the surface. The thick scent of Magic Dust immediately washed over him.
He did not find it particularly uncomfortable.
Having lived for so long and breathed it in every day, Giant Axe had long since grown accustomed to it.
He walked along the bustling streets, surrounded by pedestrians coming and going.
Unlike ordinary dwarves, perhaps because he had lived so long, Giant Axe had certain habits they lacked. He enjoyed seeking out all sorts of new things, such as newly opened taverns.
However, most new taverns in Steel City tended to shut down before long.
Very few dwarves deliberately sought out new taverns as he did. They all had their own regular drinking spots.
Giant Axe suddenly stopped and looked toward the side of the street. A tavern entered his sight. Judging by how new it looked, it should have opened recently, yet it was deserted, without a single customer.
"Hearthstone Tavern..."
Giant Axe looked up at the tavern sign and quietly spoke its name.
For some reason, he found the name rather special. It gave him an inexplicable sense of familiarity, as though dwarves ought to drink and chat in this very tavern.
Its decor was also unusual, carrying a