Chapter 15: Persuading the Stubborn Dwarves (Part 1)

"How bizarre, to actually let this Human come here!" someone muttered with a look of resentment, stroking the scar from the wound Jier had inflicted on them a few days prior.

Someone nearby even began to shout: "Hey, hey, hey, old 'Iron Fist', what is the meaning of this? Others might be one thing, but inviting this Human over—are you afraid that the few secrets we have left will be seen through by him? Can you still manage the mine or not? If you can't do it, let me do it."

Of course, this person was just talking; now that everyone was about to leave the mine and return home through unfamiliar Human society, facing countless troubles and dealing with many unprecedented things along the way, this middle-aged Dwarf did not want to shoulder such responsibility.

Since it was old 'Iron Fist' himself who said not to let everyone leave the Zhenbao Mine, and now it was also old 'Iron Fist' who said to let everyone leave this place to return home, the responsibility naturally belonged to old 'Iron Fist' alone; the other Dwarves just needed to follow orders and execute them easily.

The old Dwarf snorted through his nose and sneered; he understood that if he really let the other party do his work, the other party would decline again. This person was just talking; if there were truly any Dwarf in the group who possessed the wisdom and responsibility to take over his work and position, he would have let them take over long ago.

Where would there be anything to trouble him until now?

"Shut your mouth. 'Iron Fist' has his own reasons for doing this. When that Human Herbalist was asked to come over to give a lecture before, didn't you object too? Isn't the Healing Ointment you use to treat your wounds still being used quite diligently?" a Dwarf Miner who firmly supported the old Dwarf spoke up.

After a brief dispute, the Dwarves who had already arrived gathered in the hall.

Seeing that the others had not yet arrived, the old Dwarf did not intend to say anything, so they did not stay idle; after finding their personal items in the hall, they began to rummage through and check these numerous personal belongings. Many Dwarves held one or two of their things, either nodding or shaking their heads, or nodding first and then shaking their heads, or shaking their heads first but then nodding.

It was just a display of indecision.

After seeing this scene, the old Dwarf shrugged at Jier and said: "You see, for the past few days, this has been everyone's state. They are reluctant to part with anything and want to take everything with them. Do you have any way to persuade them?"

Jier swept his gaze over the indecisive Dwarves and let out a cold snort in his heart.

"Watch me."

After he finished speaking, he walked directly up to the nearest Dwarf Miner: "What should I call you?"

This Dwarf glanced at Jier, then looked at the old Dwarf who was watching over, and only after seeing the old Dwarf nod at him did he say to Jier: "Buzeer-Sike-Zheshi, everyone calls me 'Bread Hands'. What is your business?"

Jier was a bit curious: "Are you responsible for making bread for everyone to eat?"

This Dwarf Miner shook his head and showed his hands to Jier: "Because my pair of hands are round and sturdy, looking like freshly baked little loaves of bread, that's why everyone calls me that. I say, if you have nothing to do, don't come talk to me, go find someone else."

The fingers on this Dwarf's hands were indeed, as he said, round and swollen, just like strips of freshly baked bread. In fact, this was a type of finger injury, just not one that looked terrifying. In reality, these hands had been secretly tormenting this Dwarf Miner for decades; as soon as they touched water, his fingers would ache faintly.

However, it had been much better these past few years because the Herbalist Zuojigela had helped him prepare a special Potion—Grease mixed with the juice of Herbs containing analgesic and healing effects—and by repeatedly rubbing it into his fingers, his condition was far less severe than before.

Jier smiled and did not respond, then he said on his own: "Do you know the reason I was invited here this time? Your leader is not a guy who looks for trouble for himself; he invited me here because I have finished my business, but you are still in a mess and haven't made preparations for the journey."

Jier said loudly, his voice clearly audible within the small mine hall: "He can't save face, you understand? Before, I led my Warriors to set off south, and at that time he indicated that he wouldn't let you Dwarves wait for me long. And the result? Haha, I finished my business and brought people back, while you are still dawdling and haven't finished anything."

Jier shook his finger with an expression that begged for a beating: "This makes what your leader said before seem like he was just passing gas."

Once these words were spoken, not only was the Dwarf in front of him furious, but several of old 'Iron Fist's' supporters nearby also gathered around, intending to deal with Jier.

But Jier was not afraid at all; he smiled and said to the surrounding Dwarves: "What, are you unhappy because I told the truth? Do you want to understand that the one who truly makes your leader lose face isn't me, but you guys who are ineffective and useless at critical moments?"

Hearing this, these Dwarves immediately lowered their heads, not daring to look at the old Dwarf sitting at the entrance of the hall.

Their aggressive momentum from just a moment ago immediately dissipated, and they even felt uneasy, wanting to find a crack in the ground to crawl into.

Only then did Jier approach the Dwarf nicknamed 'Bread Hands', patting the other party's shoulder in a seemingly intimate manner: "So I don't understand, what exactly are you all dawdling about? Is it really that difficult to pack a set of luggage that you can carry on your back?"

The Dwarf Miner, feeling that he had embarrassed his old leader, did not dare to raise his head for fear of meeting old 'Iron Fist's' gaze, and could only brush off Jier's palm: "You don't understand. How old are you? The lifespan of you Humans is truly too short; you simply cannot understand the feelings of love and nostalgia we Dwarves have for certain things."

Jier curled his lip: "That makes us Humans sound like cats and dogs. In fact, we are also intelligent life, okay? Speaking of which, what is there to be nostalgic about with these Mining Picks in front of you? And why would you bring Mining Picks when returning home? Shouldn't tools that are everywhere be casually discarded anywhere in this mine you are no longer returning to?"

'Bread Hands' frowned: "I told you, you don't understand. This Mining Pick is the first one I used when I came to the Zhenbao Mine. Although its head is blunt from mining Mineral Ore, the commemorative significance inside is not small."

Jier retorted: "Are you afraid you haven't grown tired of working in this mine? You've been working here for at least a hundred years, right?"

'Bread Hands' thought for a moment and then said affirmatively: "It's been one hundred and twenty-two years. I came in the autumn, and by this autumn, it will be one hundred and twenty-three years."

Jier shrugged: "So, you should have used at least a hundred Mining Picks here, right? Is this first Mining Pick really that meaningful? Besides, this Mining Pick should be the collective property of your mine, right? You just occupy it privately like this? The production tools missing from the mine—could it be that they are all missing like this? Wow, you Dwarves are truly interesting. In our Human workplaces, privately occupying production tools like this is something we generally call—theft."

These words made 'Bread Hands' face turn white and then red. He could no longer worry about being embarrassed to look at the old Dwarf; he immediately raised his head to look at the old Dwarf and defended himself: "'Iron Fist', I... well, I didn't steal it. This Mining Pick was already broken by me long ago; I was just keeping it as a souvenir..."

Jier shrugged: "But the broken parts can be dismantled, the wooden handle of the Mining Pick can be used as fuel, and the blunt head can be re-smelted and crafted. You privately decided it had commemorative significance and stole and hid the item; this behavior is not good, oh."

"I... didn't... forget it, forget it."

'Bread Hands' hurriedly gathered up several Mining Picks from his personal items, not caring what they represented to him or what kind of commemorative significance they had. He held them and left, rushing into a tunnel entrance on one side of the hall and running far away.

"What did he go do?"

Jier was a bit puzzled. Not only did this Dwarf Miner run away with several Mining Picks, but several other Dwarves present also had their expressions change, picking up items from their luggage and running toward the tunnel 'Bread Hands' had entered.

After the old Dwarf snorted twice in dissatisfaction, he said to Jier: "They are taking the 'stolen goods' from their items to return them. Knight Jier, I have discovered that your mouth is even more formidable than your martial prowess. With just a few simple sentences, you were able to defeat the dignity of my subordinates."

"I only spoke the truth. Who knew your working environment here was so lax that you couldn't even keep track of production tools? Over these years, there haven't been few tools missing, right?" Jier asked back, choking the old Dwarf until he couldn't speak.

The fact was exactly so; production tools at the Zhenbao Mine were always going missing, and many metal materials dug out of the mine were not stored away but were constantly being taken to make the various missing production tools.

Jier then came to another Dwarf not far away: "What should I call you?"

This Dwarf glanced at Jier in fear, lowered his head, and said nothing, only blindly organizing the many Wooden Carvings in the Wooden Box beside him.

Jier stretched his head to look at the Wooden Carvings in these boxes; they were basically the size of two fists, and there were all kinds of animals, all of which were animals that appeared in the Babotali Valley. Moreover, each one was lifelike; if one used paint to color the little animals, it was estimated that some people would believe they were real animals.

"Good stuff! Did you make these?" Jier looked surprised, his mind turning to thoughts of making money, and his tone couldn't help but carry a hint of flattery.

This Dwarf Miner looked at Jier with some surprise, but he had been defeated by Jier in the battle to suppress Jier before, and he was a timid person to begin with, so he was naturally very afraid of Jier at this moment.

"Uh, yes," he said after hesitating for a moment.

Jier rubbed his hands: "What are you hesitating about? Can you tell me?"

Seeing that Jier was not aggressive and did not intend to hit him, the Dwarf Miner replied with a stiff smile on his face: "I am hesitating about which ones—the most excellent, uh, works—to keep as souvenirs to take away."

He lowered his voice again: "I am actually reluctant to part with any of them; I have put a lot of thought and time into each one."

Jier looked at the Wooden Boxes beside this Dwarf with some difficulty. He did not startle the snake by offering to buy them, but instead said to this Dwarf: "May I admire them?"

This Dwarf was a bit surprised, and after a moment of hesitation, he nodded quickly: "Yes, of course, please feel free."

Jier immediately placed the stacked Wooden Boxes on the ground, then opened the lids, pushed aside the dry Wheat Straw used as cushioning inside, and began to look at the exquisite Wooden Carvings one by one.

They were truly lifelike; each carving seemed as if it had been cast with Magic, fixing the animal's image at a single moment. But that was not all; these Wooden Carvings also maintained the various expressions of these animals—some ignorant, some wild, some cautious, or some furious. Just by looking at these vivid Wooden Carvings, Jier could feel the various emotions of the animals that had been used as the subjects.

Not only that, but when Jier opened the third Wooden Box, the Wooden Carvings stored inside were no longer the various common local animals, but Wooden Carvings of other Dwarves in the mine.

Each Dwarf was lifelike, either cooking, working with a Mining Pick, feeding some animal with a stone basin, sitting on a chair in deep thought, or holding a Dwarf Soldier Spear in preparation for battle.

Their faces were realistic, and their demeanor blended very well with the expressions on the carvings. Just by looking at these carvings, Jier, who did not know much about Dwarves, could recognize several of them.

"Ha, this is old 'Iron Fist', I recognize him. It's truly like him. I think in the craft of wood carving, you are the one!" Jier gave a thumbs up to this Dwarf, praising him without reservation.

Being praised by such a strong person as Jier, this introverted and shy Dwarf Miner became embarrassed, rubbing his hands and saying: "Not at all, not at all, I still have a long way to go. Because we don't have any paint here, it's very regrettable that it's difficult to color these Wooden Carvings."

Jier also sighed: "It is a pity, but is there a possibility that precisely because of this, you need to leave Babotali Valley even more?"

"Hm?" This Dwarf Miner was somewhat surprised: "Why?"

Jier took out the exquisite Wooden Carvings from the Wooden Box one by one with his hands and gestured to the Dwarf: "Because only by leaving this place can your future works become more lifelike and outstanding. Don't you want your Wooden Carving works to become perfect? Perfect—"

Jier drew out the tone at the end and held up the Dwarf Wooden Carving in his hand, which caused the Dwarf who was listening to him to gradually raise his gaze, and the light in his eyes brightened.

"That's it, that's it! More perfect works, I must possess perfect works, so I must leave here and find enough pigments to color the Wooden Carvings." This Dwarf Miner danced with joy, spinning around in place, muttering continuously to himself.

Seeing that the other party had taken the bait, Jier carefully placed the Dwarf Wooden Carving in his hand back into the box and closed the lid of the box to protect them.

These lifelike Wooden Carvings were not only the best craftsmanship he had ever seen, but if they were promoted as the works of a rare Dwarf Wooden Carving master, the selling price would likely be much higher.

Don't ask why a Dwarf Miner suddenly transformed into a Wooden Carving master in Jier's mouth; with such excellent carving skills, if you said they weren't the works of a Wooden Carving master, others wouldn't believe it either. Moreover, because these Dwarf Wooden Carvings were made by a Dwarf master, they were also very convincing. After all, where would normal Humans have seen so many Dwarf Wooden Carvings with such lifelike movements and expressions?

Only the Dwarves themselves could come into contact with and understand the real Dwarves behind these Wooden Carvings and use those Dwarves as blueprints to create these works.

By then, it was possible that each of these Wooden Carvings could sell for five Gold Coins; after all, for works of art, a significant premium is normal. And Jier currently had twenty Wooden Carvings the size of two fists in one Wooden Box by his side, which already amounted to one hundred Gold Coins.

But Jier actually had as many as eight such Wooden Boxes by his side right now.

Could it be that these inconspicuous Wooden Carvings, which might otherwise be thrown away, could sell for eight hundred Gold Coins?

As soon as Jier thought of this, he felt his heart thumping, even though he did not have a heart.

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