The dwarf scratched his head and smiled a little awkwardly.
"Mahakam doesn't get many visitors, so the guest rooms stand empty pretty much all year round. We weren't thinking and forgot we had an honored guest staying there."
Lynn waved a hand. "Forget it. I'm awake now anyway. So what are they doing?"
"As you can see, they're settling things with their fists," the dwarf said with a grin. "We dwarves aren't like elves. We don't go in for all that fancy stuff. And we're not like humans, either, with all their scheming."
As he spoke, he threw a few punches into the air.
"When something comes up, we dwarves like to settle it with our fists. Whoever has the biggest fists gets the final say."
Lynn smiled faintly. "Then you'd get along well with the people of Skellige. They like settling things with a fight too."
The dwarf scratched his cheek.
"I've heard that too. Shame you hardly ever see anyone from Skellige on the Continent, and few captains in Novigrad are willing to sail to the Skellige Isles. At least, I didn't meet a captain with that kind of courage when I went to Novigrad."
Although Mahakam was conservative and insular, not every dwarf spent his entire life without seeing the outside world.
After his fiftieth birthday, every dwarf could leave Mahakam and spend a year experiencing human society.
However, if he failed to return after a year, his name would be struck from the clan register forever.
Yarpen and the other dwarves who had stayed at the foot of the Mahakam Mountains had failed to return within the agreed time, which was why they were unwilling to follow the others up the mountain.
They simply feared causing unnecessary trouble.
"Ah, enough of those old stories. Master witcher, how about it? Interested in showing us a few moves?"
The dwarf looked at Lynn with curiosity and anticipation.
Lynn had intended to refuse, but changed his mind after a moment's thought.
"All right. Why not?"
"Great! Wait right here, then."
The dwarf dashed off and stood before the crowd, waving both hands nonstop.
"Everyone, stop! Stop! Hear me out first!"
He pointed at Lynn, who was still standing among the crowd. "This master witcher has come from far away and wants to see what we can do. Who's willing to face him?"
One of the two dwarves still fighting in the ring stopped at his words.
The other, however, showed no sportsmanship and seized the chance to slam the haft of his hammer into his opponent's face.
That single blow knocked the latter to the ground.
"The fight wasn't over, Wakanda. We dwarves don't bother with that human chivalry."
The fallen dwarf's face was covered in blood.
But surprisingly, after getting up from the ground, he did not go over and start cursing.
Instead, he dropped his weapon and left.
The victorious dwarf thumped his chest. "Master witcher, I'm Regan. I'll be your opponent."
"Sure."
As Lynn spoke, he took hold of his steel sword and prepared to step forward.
But the dwarves stopped him.
"Whoa, whoa, master witcher. This is a spar, not a fight to the death. Real weapons could cause an accident. Let's use blunt training weapons instead."
"Master witcher, do you prefer a sword, an axe, or a hammer? We'll fetch one for you."
So Lynn said politely:
"Then please bring me a hand-and-a-half sword."
Another dwarf soon brought over the weapon Lynn had requested.
He took the training sword.
He twirled it a few times.
Then nodded.
The sword was decent.
It did not fit his hand perfectly.
But they were in a hurry, after all. How could they possibly find a weapon that suited him perfectly?
Besides, this was only a spar, not a life-or-death struggle.
Good enough would do.
So he stepped into the ring and faced the dwarf named Regan.
After they faced off for a moment, Regan let out an imposing roar, stepped forward, and swung his warhammer down at Lynn.
He held nothing back.
Even the air split with a piercing whistle.
Although this was only a spar, not a fight to the death.
Anyone struck by that blow would probably have to spend a long time in bed.
The surrounding spectators gasped.
None of them had expected Regan to strike so hard right from the start.
Yet Lynn could see that vicious attack with perfect clarity.
Even without drinking a Blizzard Potion, the mutations brought on by the Trial of the Grasses and the "Comprehensive Enhancement" feat had sharpened his reflexes.
So, to Lynn, fierce as Regan's attack was, it was also full of openings.
He therefore evaded the attack with ease.
And drove his sword's pommel into Regan's chest.
Thud!
A dull impact sounded.
Regan looked as though he had been struck by lightning.
He dropped his weapon and fell to his knees, unable to get up for a long while.
The spectators all gasped.
Their gazes held a measure of awe as they looked at Lynn.
Although they understood that a witcher, a slayer of monsters, could hardly be incompetent.
They were still shocked that Lynn had defeated their companion so easily.
Lynn put away the training sword.
He walked over and pulled Regan up from the ground.
"You fought well."
"Cough, cough. Just what I'd expect from a master witcher. Thank you for going easy on me."
Having recovered, Regan brushed the dirt from his clothes.
There was not a trace of resentment on his face. Instead, he sincerely expressed his respect for Lynn before walking away.
The dwarf who had first spoken to Lynn was excited at the sight, as though he were the one who had won.
"Anyone else want to challenge the master witcher?"
The dwarves watching looked at one another, but none moved.
"I'll give it a try."
At last, a dwarf with his beard woven into two braids pushed through the crowd and stepped forward.
He picked up a blunt axe and spat into his palm. "Let me experience the master witcher's skills."
Whispers ran through the crowd.
"It's Muradin. This should be a good show."
"You know him? How come I've never heard his name?"
"Of course you haven't. He only just finished his time in human society and hasn't been back in Mahakam long. Once, on his way down the mountain, he ran into a dozen or so bandits and killed every last one of them all by himself."
"Damn! He's that tough?"
Muradin basked in the exclamations rising one after another from the crowd.
He had only just returned to Mahakam, and the clan had yet to assign him a job.
If he could defeat a witcher and spread his reputation.
The clan might even let him start out as a guard captain.
That was precisely why Muradin had stepped forward to challenge Lynn.
Of course.
Even if he lost, there would be nothing embarrassing about it.
After all, he would have lost to a witcher.
Dwarves revered the strong and did not consider defeat at the hands of someone stronger a disgrace.