Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World - Chapter 447

Chapter 447: Robbery

TL: Etude Translations

After negotiating the reward with a dwarf named Imar, Stanford finally relaxed a bit. After all, it’s always suspicious when a stranger suddenly offers to help you for no apparent reason, especially when there’s a certain risk involved. However, if they have a vested interest, it somehow feels more reassuring.

Stanford returned to the camp and announced the good news of finding a guide, which was met with cheers from his team members. Seeing this, he immediately warned them not to leak any information.

Then, he ordered a thorough check of their equipment: sharpening swords and gun barrels, airing out gunpowder, checking the fuses of the grenades, and preparing fire-starting materials, aiming for perfection in their preparations.

A necessary level of vigilance was required.

During this time, the orc merchant caravan led by Eugene left. Stanford bid farewell to Finn, who had become a friend, and gifted him a porcelain bowl. The young orc was overjoyed and enthusiastically invited Stanford to visit him on the plains if he ever got the chance.

Finally, after five days, the members of the expedition team waited anxiously and excitedly for the news from the dwarf Imar—they were to set out the next morning.

When the appointed time arrived, Stanford led thirty team members, pulling their ten reindeer, laden with supplies traded from the Blood Bull Tribe, and set out on the road southward.

The “road” was actually just a narrow strip of forest with fewer trees. They trudged through snow and thick, grey, dry grass, struggling to move between the trees.

“Stay alert! There could be wild beasts lurking around here at any moment. I don’t want to go looking for anyone who turns into a stinking pile of dung.”

Stanford feared that the days of rest in the Blood Bull Tribe might have made his team members lazy, so he reminded them periodically.

As they progressed, the forest gradually became denser. Stanford occasionally checked his compass to ensure they were heading directly south.

Three pine trees, one tall and two short, appeared before them. The middle one was lush, with dense pine needles forming several distinct umbrella-shaped canopies, while the two on the sides looked quite dwarfed by comparison. A significant clearing surrounded the three trees, a conspicuous sight in this densely wooded area.

“Let’s rest here for a while,” Stanford suggested.

Without needing their leader’s instruction, the team, seasoned in land adventures, stayed put, with those going to relieve themselves doing so in groups.

Stanford circled the pine trees, observing the surroundings, but found nothing unusual.

After waiting for over an hour, their guide had yet to arrive.

The deputy leader, Matthew, approached Stanford, “Do you think that dwarf has deceived us?”

Before Stanford could reply, there was a rustling from the dense vegetation to the west. Despite the cold winter-spring weather, this area was thick with undergrowth. Numerous thin, grey branches from the shrubs intertwined, obscuring the view beyond.

“Be on guard!” Matthew shouted.

Ten crossbows were aimed in that direction, and the others readied their weapons.

Soon, a pair of short, thick fingers parted the dense branches, and a round head peeked out.

“It’s me! It’s me! I’m your guide, Imar.”

The dwarf, Imar, shouted, “Damn it! Can someone kindly come and pull me out?”

“It’s our guide!” Stanford signaled his team to stand down.

He ran forward, grabbed the dwarf’s wrist, and forcefully pulled Imar, who was stuck in the bushes, out.

Rubbing his sore arm, the dwarf complained, “Oh, my arm! It’s nearly dislocated. I’ve suffered quite a bit to avoid detection. You need to pay me more.”

Stanford shook his head, “My friend, perhaps the concept of time is different for dwarves? You’re over an hour late.”

“Let your time go to hell. How can you discuss such precise hours with a dwarf who has only used the sun and hourglasses to tell time? That’s just unrealistic.”

He eyed Stanford’s pocket watch covetously and pointed his stubby index finger at it, “If you can give me this timepiece when we get there, maybe you can keep a coin or two from that bag of silver for yourself.”

At the agreed meeting time, Stanford had shown Imar his pocket watch, and Imar’s dwarven heritage made him intensely curious about the device. The watch, with its evenly marked dial covered by glass and three co-axial hands moving at different speeds around the circle, fascinated him even more than porcelain.

Imar knew of a human profession called ‘mechanic’, specializing in the study of peculiar machines. Although the devices they created were often neither practical nor durable, the timepiece in front of him was clearly an exception.

“I’ll consider it!” Stanford tucked the pocket watch back into his chest.

This action made the dwarf mutter under his breath with disdain—Hmph, it’ll end up in my hands eventually, anyway.

“So, as per our agreement, please lead us on our way… Hey! You seem to be dressed quite heavily today.”

Stanford was surprised at the dwarf’s attire.

Imar was clad in tightly wrapped chainmail, wearing a helmet decorated with the horns of an unknown animal, and carrying a mace. His whole figure shimmered with a metallic sheen under the sunlight.

“Making a fuss over nothing!” the dwarf grumbled. “I certainly don’t want to be a snack for the wild beasts around here.”

He waved his hand, “Let’s hit the road quickly. To avoid my kin, I have to take you on some less-traveled ‘paths’, which will take a bit longer than the usual route.”

Stanford then ordered the team to set off again, following the dwarf southward.

…

“Why haven’t I seen dwarves to the south of the Rocky Mountains?” Stanford asked Imar casually as they walked.

“Human, you are my employer, and I don’t want to speak ill of you, but our elders have always warned us to limit our contact with humans. It’s been the way of all our clans since ancient times.”

“Uh… that’s just prejudice. Then why do you trade with orcs?”

“Their minds are simpler, without too many twists and turns. Trading with them is less likely to lead to losses. Also, they have no interest in our mountains and don’t keep trying to pry into our secrets.”

Stanford frowned, “But from what I know, in the eastern part of the Rocky Mountains, small groups of orcs often raid human villages. The Nerodan Valley is heavily guarded, clearly against threats from the mountains. Isn’t that also dwarven territory? How come orcs are there?”

“What orcs? I don’t know.” Imar shook his head, “The eastern range is too far from our Hammer Clan.”

Stanford was about to ask more when he suddenly heard a commotion from behind.

He turned back and saw a flock of birds rising from the dense woods to the north.

“Everyone, be alert! There might be a large animal hunting.”

Imar touched the handle of his mace, lost in thought.