Chapter 154: The Combat Dwarf

The academy’s blacksmith building was one of the few places that never seemed to sleep.

Even during the early hours of the morning, the sound of hammers striking metal echoed through the halls.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

The smell of heated steel filled the air as several dwarven students worked around large furnaces. Some were carefully shaping blades, while others were engraving magical patterns into armor.

At the center of the main workshop stood a particularly large forge.

Beside it was a dwarf with a thick gray beard and broad shoulders.

He was considerably older than most of the academy’s staff, but there was nothing frail about him.

His arms were covered in old burn scars, and a heavy blacksmith’s apron covered most of his body.

He raised his hammer.

Bang!

The glowing piece of metal beneath it flattened slightly.

He paused.

Then he looked toward the entrance.

"Come in."

The door opened.

A short figure stepped inside.

Hulk.

The young royal dwarf walked into the blacksmith building with his arms crossed and an irritated expression on his face.

He looked around.

Several dwarven students immediately greeted him.

"Good morning, Prince Hulk."

Hulk grunted.

"Yeah."

He continued walking.

His uncle looked at him.

"You’re late."

"I wasn’t late."

"You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago."

"I had something to do."

His uncle raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

Hulk looked away.

"Nothing."

His uncle sighed.

"Sit down."

Hulk reluctantly walked toward a nearby chair.

He climbed onto it and sat down.

His uncle looked at him for a moment.

"You’re getting taller."

Hulk’s eyes widened.

"What did you say?"

"I said you’re—"

"Don’t."

His uncle stopped.

Hulk narrowed his eyes.

"Don’t ever say that again."

His uncle sighed.

"You’re impossible."

Hulk folded his arms.

"I don’t like people talking about my height."

"I know."

"Then don’t do it."

"Fine."

His uncle returned to the forge.

For a few moments, neither spoke.

Then Hulk finally broke the silence.

"You called me here."

"Yes."

"Why?"

His uncle placed the hammer down.

"Because we need to discuss something."

Hulk frowned.

"Is this about the tournament?"

"Yes."

Hulk immediately became interested.

He leaned forward.

"I’m participating."

His uncle looked at him.

"I haven’t said yes."

"But you didn’t say no."

"That isn’t how conversations work."

"It is now."

His uncle rubbed his forehead.

His temper really hasn’t improved.

Hulk had always been like this.

He was a royal dwarf, born into one of the most prestigious dwarf families.

But he wasn’t an ordinary dwarf.

Hulk belonged to a rare species known among the dwarves as Combat Dwarves.

Unlike ordinary dwarves, who were naturally gifted in craftsmanship, mining and engineering, Combat Dwarves possessed physiques specifically adapted for battle.

Their bodies were denser.

Their muscles were considerably stronger.

Their bones were harder.

Their endurance was exceptional.

And the possessed a unique attribute.

Hulk had inherited those traits.

Unfortunately, he had also inherited the temper.

His uncle had lost count of how many times Hulk had gotten into arguments simply because someone was taller than him.

Which, unfortunately, meant almost everyone.

Humans.

Elves.

Beastkin.

Even some dwarves.

If someone looked down at him—literally or figuratively—Hulk immediately assumed they were insulting him.

His uncle folded his arms.

"You remember why you were sent here?"

"To become stronger."

"No."

Hulk frowned.

"To learn blacksmithing?"

"No."

Hulk scratched his beard.

"Then why?"

His uncle stared at him.

"To learn how to coexist with other races."

Hulk’s expression became sour.

"I already know how."

"You punched a second-year human because he accidentally called you short."

"He called me short."

"You are short."

Hulk’s fist tightened.

His uncle immediately raised a hand.

"Don’t."

Hulk slowly relaxed.

"Fine."

"You were sent to this academy because your father and the royal court wanted you to learn how to interact with humans, elves and beastkin."

Hulk grunted.

"And I have."

His uncle stared at him.

"You’ve spent more time fighting students than talking to them."

"They were annoying."

"That’s exactly the problem."

Hulk looked away.

His uncle sighed.

"When you first arrived here, you hated anyone who was taller than you."

"I still do."

"Exactly."

Hulk frowned.

"But I’ve gotten better."

His uncle paused.

"Have you?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"I only punched three people last month."

His uncle stared at him.

"That’s not improvement."

"It is."

"It absolutely isn’t."

Hulk shrugged.

His uncle couldn’t help but sigh.

Still, despite everything, there had been some improvement.

Hulk had actually begun spending time around students from other races.

He had even made a few acquaintances.

The biggest change, however, had happened during the first-year tournament.

Hulk had somehow ended up participating.

It hadn’t even been intentional.

He had simply wandered into the tournament grounds, gotten involved in a dispute, and ended up fighting.

By the time the faculty realized what had happened, it was too late.

The royal dwarf had already become one of the tournament’s most memorable participants.

His uncle had initially been furious.

But after seeing Hulk genuinely enjoy himself alongside students from different races, he had reconsidered.

Perhaps the tournament was exactly what Hulk needed.

His uncle walked toward him.

"After the first-year tournament, I made a decision."

Hulk looked up.

"What decision?"

"You don’t have to attend the regular blacksmithing classes anymore."

Hulk’s eyes widened.

"Really?"

"Yes."

Hulk immediately jumped off the chair.

"So I can participate in the tournaments?"

His uncle nodded.

"Yes."

Hulk’s face lit up.

"YES!"

His voice echoed throughout the blacksmith building.

Several dwarven students looked over.

Hulk immediately pointed toward them.

"Don’t look at me!"

They quickly returned to their work.

His uncle shook his head.

"Calm down."

"You can participate in academy tournaments like an ordinary student."

Hulk grinned.

"Finally."

His uncle continued.

"However, there are conditions."

Hulk’s smile disappeared.

"What conditions?"

"You still have responsibilities."

Hulk frowned.

"What kind?"

"You are still a royal dwarf."

"I know."

"You will represent the dwarf kingdom whenever you participate in official events."

"I know."

"And you are not allowed to attack someone simply because they’re taller than you."

Hulk’s expression became serious.

"That is unreasonable."

"No, it isn’t."

"It is."

"No."

"But what if they’re annoying?"

"Then ignore them."

"What if they’re really annoying?"

"Still ignore them."

"What if they insult me?"

"Report them."

Hulk stared at him.

"Can I punch them after reporting them?"

"No."

Hulk sighed.

"Fine."

His uncle walked back toward the forge.

"There is another reason I’m allowing this."

Hulk followed.

"What?"

"You were brought here to learn how to coexist with other races."

Hulk remained silent.

"You’ve spent your first year doing that in your own way."

"What does that mean?"

"You’ve fought people."

Hulk smiled.

"Exactly."

His uncle shook his head.

"The tournament showed me something." he continued.

He turned toward Hulk.

"You seem to understand other races better when you’re fighting with them but I guess you’ll learn to fight beside them this semester."

Hulk didn’t immediately respond.

He remembered the tournament.

He remembered fighting.

He remembered the excitement.

He remembered seeing opponents who weren’t dwarves standing their ground against especially that unreasonable human.

For the first time, he hadn’t cared about their race.

They were simply opponents.

People he wanted to defeat.

And strangely enough, that had made things easier.

His uncle smiled faintly.

"So I’m giving you permission."

Hulk looked up.

"You can participate in the upcoming tournaments."

Hulk’s fists tightened with excitement.

"I won’t disappoint you."

His uncle smiled.

"I know."

Hulk suddenly paused.

"Wait."

Hulk paused as if coming to understand what had happened.

"Does this mean I don’t have to attend those boring blacksmithing classes anymore?"

His uncle stared at him.

"You’ll still need to practice blacksmithing."

Hulk’s face fell.

"Why?"

"Because you’re a royal dwarf."

"I want to fight."

"And you’re still a dwarf."

"I can be both."

"Yes."

His uncle smiled.

"That is precisely what I want you to understand."

Hulk looked confused.

His uncle placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Being a Combat Dwarf doesn’t mean you have to abandon the traditions of your people."

Hulk looked toward the forge.

The flames reflected in his eyes.

"You can become a warrior."

His uncle paused.

"And you can still become a blacksmith."

Hulk thought about it.

Then he nodded.

"Fine."

His uncle smiled.

"Good."

Hulk suddenly grinned.

"So when is the next tournament?"

"Soon."

"How soon?"

"Soon enough."

"That’s not an answer."

His uncle chuckled.

"You’ll find out."

Hulk clenched his fists.

"Good."

His eyes burned with excitement.

"I’ll win."

His uncle raised an eyebrow.

"Don’t get arrogant."

"I’m not arrogant."

"You challenged a third-year because he was taller than you."

"He was staring at me."

"He was reading a book."

"He was reading it aggressively."

His uncle stared at him.

Hulk crossed his arms.

"It looked aggressive."

His uncle burst out laughing.

Hulk frowned.

"What?"

"Nothing."

His uncle returned to the forge.

For the first time that morning, Hulk smiled.

He had spent most of his life being treated differently because of his status.

He was a royal dwarf.

A Combat Dwarf.

Someone who was expected to represent his kingdom.

But at the academy, he was beginning to discover something else.

He could simply be Hulk.

His uncle looked over his shoulder.

"One last thing."

Hulk turned.

"What?"

"Try not to start a fight with anyone today."

Hulk thought about it.

"I’ll try."

His uncle smiled.

"That is all I ask."

Hulk walked toward the exit.

Then he stopped.

He looked back.

"Uncle."

"Yes?"

"Thanks."

His uncle’s expression softened.

"Go."

Hulk smiled.

Then he left the blacksmith building.

The moment the door closed behind him, his uncle shook his head.

"That boy is going to give me gray hair."

He picked up his hammer again.

Then smiled.

"But perhaps he’s finally starting to grow."

A pause.

He immediately corrected himself.

"Not physically."

Outside, Hulk suddenly sneezed.

He stopped walking.

His eyes narrowed.

"Someone’s talking about me."

He looked around suspiciously.

Then his expression hardened.

"And if it’s some tall bastard..."

His fist clenched.

"I’ll find him."

The peaceful morning at the academy had lasted approximately thirty seconds.