The Villainess Is An SS+ Rank Adventurer Chapter 433: Crumbling Foundations

It’s nothing personal. Just business.

That was every scoundrel’s favourite phrase.

Long before learning how to sell out their closest allies, every dwarf already had the excuse prepared.

But for Velstric the Black Thane, leader of the Shadowvault Syndicate and general manager of 17 different guild associations just for selling beard tweezers, things were always personal.

That made him the most honest rogue in the dwarven underworld.

The truth was that nobody in the field of criminal enterprising were truly detached from what they did. Otherwise they’d be bureaucrats instead.

It was just as morally questionable and the pay was far better.

Velstric would know.

He’d spent the better part of six decades as a lawmaker in the Stone Assembly. And while that was more than enough to turn the finest of dwarves into rotten knaves, the truth of Velstric’s long affair with the underworld was far more nuanced.

He hated them all.

Equally and without prejudice.

The aristocrats born into wealth? Hated.

The poor scavenging for morsels? Hated.

The drunk, the pious and the wise? Hated to the ends of their very beards.

Every single dwarf who went about their day, he hated with the sa burning passion as a banshee denied its vengeance, for they all represented the sa thing.

Apathy.

The death of kingdoms great and small.

There was no plague which could bring down a realm more completely than the disinterest of its people. A war might shatter the walls, but indifference would see the foundations crumbling.

Just as it already was.

The Kingdom Under The Mountain stretched from one corner of the continent to the next.

The Underhalls were the greatest engineering marvel ever to have been built, surpassing any palaces built by elves or fae. Yet just like the halls of the Stone Assembly, it too was falling into disrepair.

The triumph of fathers had turned into the bickering of children.

These days, every dwarf and their pet rock sli was naturally inclined towards politics.

There were more machinations to be found in a barkeeper’s smile than the courts of human kingdoms. Even the way they reduced the foam in a pour was what caused the cogs of dwarven society to spin.

But just not in any bar frequented by Velstric.

After all, if a barkeeper poured his drink wrong, he responded by arranging their fall into a slag pit inhabited by a family of primordial fire elentals.

This would usually lead to a swift reprisal.

Not only were barkeepers popular, but those who ignored the rules of the house were ignored by the rules in turn. Except that Velstric simply collapsed the walls until no house remained. And then he ordered the ground beneath it hollowed out until the remains fell through. Then he set it on fire.

Because as it turned out, when the response to any perceived grievance was outrageously disproportionate, it went from settling a grudge to rely being thorough.

And how very thorough he was.

For all the wisdom of his peers, Velstric found that there were few better ways to rise than by ensuring the concept of the word 'no' was as foreign to his ears as the rustling of leaves.

Others called it barbarism, but he called it efficiency.

Unlike those around him, he wasn’t in the business of extortion, racketeering and throwing barkeepers into basins of lting rock in order to make friends. He had a purpose beyond either fa or fortune. Which was a sha.

Both were needed for the things he wanted. Sacrifices needed to be made.

His ears most of all.

“We’ve lost another warehouse,” said Balthos the Younger, wine sloshing at his lips like a wave assailing a coast. “This ti in Triese. The Grand Duchess waited for it to be fattened like a sow. Your idea of such a blatant decoy was a bigger failure than your last one.”

Across from him at the table, Sweet Penny was looking anything but sweet as she carved at the polished marble in boredom.

As long as she didn’t damage the walls of the master cabin, she’d be forgiven.

Their etings were always an exercise in tedium, after all.

“My idea presud you were better than the drunks you entrusted the decoy with. But I imagine they at least did a finer job than you.”

“That sounds like a taunt. But don’t mistake . I’m nothing but pleased. It ans I’m never expected to hear advice from you again.”

“If you don’t want advice, then you should stop asking for it. Granholtz is bigger than your frail ego. This was a warning. The next ti, the Grand Duchess won’t use her pretty ankle to trip you over.”

“I didn’t see much of an ankle. Only a year’s worth of saltleaf off to be enjoyed by the Grand Duchess’s finest. I expect repaynt for their rrint.”

Velstric drumd his fingers against the table as he sat.

Spoiling the air around him was the worst that the dwarven kingdom had rejected. And while he offered his disdain equally, if he were to make an exception, it would be for these.

The Iron Quorum was in session. Or what remained of it.

Thane Targan had turned the wrong corner in the Underhalls and was never seen again. Black Morik had turned purple as poison visited him. And Lady Hilden had taken to sheltering in her residence, her acute instinct warning everyone present that nothing good would co from this eting.

She was right, of course.

Each ti the Iron Quorum t, it was only to casually sabotage each other while feeding false information. But then again, nobody agreed to convene just to pretend they liked each other. It was to stop the far worse scenario if they never did.

“You both need to curtail your obsession with Granholtz,” said Cordrin of Clan Weasel, leaning back with his arm idly around his chair. “It was through your negligence you allowed the Grand Duchess to dismantle what took a century to build.”

The scoff was imdiate.

“So says the one who agreed to pay her fees,” said Sweet Penny, her unwanted smile finally returning. “I’m surprised you still have a beard. Do they let you pay taxes at the Ducal Treasury when you look so unsightly?”

“My relationship with the Grand Duchess is cordial. I personally find her attitude refreshing. Rather than take on the burden of securing every alley of her realm, she ensures that part of the responsibility is shared with those who inhabit them.”

“A guard poodle,” said Balthos, smirking with the wine staining his beard. “How the mighty have fallen. Don’t we have a minimum requirent for dwarven pride to be here?”

“If you care for dwarven pride, then I suggest taking up a role at the Stone Assembly–just as our friend Velstric once did. In fact, I believe he still plays Dragon’s Tail with the High Speaker on occasion. Perhaps he’ll set up an audience with you?”

Velstric continued drumming his fingers.

To be told so blatantly that his etings were being spied upon was a novel tactic, but still dull. They must sorely wish for him to be uncomfortable.

“... Yes, maybe Velstric would be willing to help,” said Sweet Penny, her knife falling still as she turned to him. “He seems to have the ti. More than us, at least.”

“Oh?” Velstric shifted his disinterested expression into a pleasant smile, the change so obviously fraudulent that a troll would be impressed. “And whatever might you be suggesting, my dear Penny?”

“I an that it is utterly absurd that you chose to have the quorum et in the most blighted part of the continent. We could be slling the aroma of tidestone and corals below the Sumr Kingdoms. Instead, we are here, directly below the grazing cows of Tirea.”

“Is there a problem with where I’ve chosen to hold this eting?”

“Yes, Velstric. There is a problem. Do you have any idea how difficult it was to find a working passage here? The Underhalls had dust.”

“Then it should suit us fine. A secluded and quiet spot for those of the lowest repute to convene and reaffirm our desire not to murder each other sounds more than appropriate. But I suppose the mbers of the quorum have forgotten what it ans to be subtle.”

The decision ca at once.

Eyes narrowed in constant suspicion widened as the mirth filled the cabin.

“Subtlety,” repeated Cordrin, who amongst them all would have made the finest politician. The worst insult any dwarf could have. “You, Velstric, are as known for subtlety as a blacksmith at a forge. But your pet project manages to be worse than that.”

“I’ve little idea what you refer to,” he said, as the sounds of a busy dockyard ringed outside.

“I refer to this.” Cordrin pointed all around at the fine interior. “This landship you’ve commissioned. I must offer my congratulations. That you’d hoped to keep this a secret from us is a thing so outrageous that everything you’ve ever done now pales in comparison.”

Velstric rely continued his smile.

“Indeed? … Then perhaps this was worth the cost. Perhaps you all won’t rember how much I owe you in lost wagers.”

A mont of silence ca as every dwarf frowned to rember how much Velstric owed any of them.

The answer was zero. But it would keep them up at night when they tried to rember.

“I do not know what you’re planning,” said Sweet Penny, eyeing the many rings upon his person. “But it will cease. Your actions weigh heavily on this quorum. We are criminals, not generals–and most certainly not rulers.”

“I never pretended we’re otherwise.”

“Then you’ll respect our desire for collective self-preservation. Whatever you’re doing is causing a disturbance on the surface. That is unacceptable. We have quashed the rumours for the sake of not being dragged into the sa dungeon as you, but our professional courtesy will not last. There’s no reason for you to have an ard landship.”

“There are several reasons I can think of. Impressing you being one of them.”

“You can impress by showing what you’re putting in your wine. This is nothing less than idiocy. If the Stone Assembly catches wind of this, there’ll be no reprieve. A landship isn’t enough for you to do what you want.”

“Claiming to know what I want is a bold thing.”

Sweet Penny leaned forwards slightly, stopping only when she saw a ring imdiately glowing.

“Not nearly as much as you think it is,” she said. “You’ve always wished for more than you have. So allow to make this clear–you will never be permitted to establish a 13th domain.”

This ti, it was Velstric’s turn to laugh.

Indeed, they had no idea what he wanted.

None of them did. But how could they?

That required creativity beyond the lives of sloth they lived in.

Yes. He took everything personally. But most of all, that included the failure of the dwarven kingdom’s wealthiest underbelly to raise the realm to its correct standing.

It was that drive which made him alone the most suitable for fixing what nobody else could.

“Rest assured, my fellow mbers of the quorum, I’ve no interest in establishing another dwarven holding. I dare say twelve is a nice enough number. It leaves just enough to guarantee there will always be a stalemate on decisions of actual importance. I’ve even less intention of waging war. As you surmise, a landship isn’t enough. But it is impressive as a diplomatic vessel.”

Balthos finally put down his goblet. But only because he’d emptied the bottle as well.

“What are you playing at?” he asked.

“I’m considering taking up my forr role again,” said Velstric, his voice softening along with his smile. “There’s movent in the Stone Assembly. A new tranche of councillors. I believe directly involving myself would help secure our future. This landship would be a gift to the High King.”

The lack of relief told him what he could have predicted.

Not a single dwarf believed his words.

But Velstric had told no lie. Or rather, nothing that wasn’t a half-truth.

The Stone Assembly was going to be very busy. And he was certain the High King would appreciate such a splendid gift to boost his ailing image. As would all the new bureaucrats.

Knock, knock.

Suddenly, his smile vanished from his face as a noise interrupted their eting.

He silently chastised himself at once, then nodded towards the door, his expression of calm already returned.

“Enter.”

It threatened to fade again when he saw who entered.

Ham.

The most ordinary dwarf he’d ever seen in his life. Or so he first thought.

He’d heard during a daily briefing that an intruder had been caught near their operations.

However, while Ham’s claims that he was seeking to return from the Kingdom of Tirea was less likely than the possibility he was a spy for one of the quorum, he knew upon studying the dwarf further that it no longer mattered.

For one thing, there would shortly be no secrets.

But for another, he was a dwarf who’d seen the end of all things. There was a cloud behind his eyes, darkened by wisdom and scarred by experience that few dwarves ever lived old enough to see.

What horrors his tale held, he had little idea. But he hoped to learn it.

Just not now.

Because whatever Ham’s backstory, he was still a newcor.

And a newcor did not disturb a eting of the Iron Quorum. Ever. For any reason.

Unless it was extrely urgent.

“Ah, my apologies, but I’ve another scheduled matter to attend to. It seems I’ve double booked.”

He drumd his fingers across his table once again.

The mbers of the quorum studied Ham. None of them betrayed any recognition … yet all of them stilled their complaints, seeing at once the eyes filled with the weight of a war veteran.

“This conversation isn’t over,” said Sweet Penny, rising first. “We’ll arrange for another eting. I hope you’ve taken our concerns on board.”

“That I have,” replied Velstric with a nod.

He waited as the mbers of the Iron Quorum took their leave, each of them offering a nod towards Ham as they left his suite. So of them even did so without crumpling his carpet.

Velstric didn’t fail to notice that Ham looked like he wanted to follow.

“Um, my apologies for–”

“Speak. What has happened?”

The abruptness took Ham by surprise.

Even so, he stood up slightly straighter and coughed.

“Right, uh, I have a ssage.”

“A ssage?” Velstric stared hard as a thousand possibilities ran through his mind. “You interrupted the Iron Quorum to bring a ssage? … Who by? The Stone Assembly? The High King?”

“No, it’s … well, it’s from intruders.”

“Intruders?”

“Yes. There are intruders.”

Velstric blinked.

This was not any of the thousand possibilities.

“What is the ssage?” he asked blankly.

Ham nodded, then drew a deep breath.

“The ssage is … look outside.”

A mont passed as Velstric waited for the rest of the ssage.

When nothing ca, he slowly did as the ssage suggested, turning around and heading for the window behind his desk.

There, his confusion only increased.

He saw nothing but a dockyard at work. Crates being hauled. Hirelings who needed disciplining. A sche upon sches being laid, ready to be unveiled for all the world above and below to witness.

And then–

He saw it.

There, by one of the entrances, what appeared to be a human girl with a sword, a clockwork doll with her hands to her brows, a pair of ducks … and the Snow Dancer happily waving, who had sohow but not unexpectedly escaped her shackles.

All of them were sowhat worthy of his attention.

However, what was most alarming was the fact that the girl was twirling her sword. And above the sword was what appeared to be a swirling ball of highly volatile energy.

Velstric had absolutely no idea what it was.

Only that it flew faster than he could duck.

Pwoooooooooooooooooooooomph!!