Chapter 33: Get It Down Its Throat

I couldn’t hide my confusion at Diller’s sudden appearance. For some reason, one of his men stood behind him as well.

“Why are you here? Where’s Neon?”

I couldn’t imagine Diller abandoning a job.

“Well, this is my hometown. I thought I’d put in a little effort to defend it.”

Diller stroked the beard on his chin as he spoke.

“Thank you. But I can’t afford to pay you enough.”

“I don’t need money.”

“Miss Neon already paid us—”

“Colin, don’t say anything unnecessary, you idiot!”

“Ouch!”

Colin, the subordinate standing behind him, tried to interject, only for Diller to punch him. Muttering an apology, Colin retreated again.

“You probably figured it out already, but I’ve been paid. So don’t hesitate to make use of us.”

Neon must have left Diller’s group behind for my sake. I’d refused to escape with her, and she was still so kind.

I hadn’t even said a proper goodbye at the end. When this battle was over, I wanted to see her again.

“Then I won’t hold back. I’ve arranged an explosive to defeat the grand crocodile. We plan to throw it into its mouth. To do that, we were thinking of commissioning a custom-made prop to hold the mouth open. Anything capable of keeping it open would be fine, though. Do you know anyone who might help?”

“A prop? What kind?”

“A long iron rod that would prevent the mouth from closing.”

“A grand crocodile’s bite is no ordinary thing. It’d need to be extremely thick. I know a blacksmith who’ll take even a strange request like that. Let’s go now.”

“Thank you. But I wonder whether we’ll have enough money.”

“Here. This is from Miss Neon.”

Diller handed me a leather pouch. Inside were eighty gold coins. She really had given me half the money for my sake. She was a conscientious person, even though I’d told her she could keep everything that remained.

“Thank you.”

“She’s a good woman.”

Neon and I hadn’t been in that sort of relationship, but I was still happy to hear her praised.

“She is. Let’s go.”

Diller led us to a large workshop. The sound of hammer striking iron rang from within.

“Old man, it’s Diller! I’ve got an urgent request!”

Diller raised his voice as soon as he entered. A short, sturdily built man emerged from the back. He was a dwarf.

“It’s been a while, Diller. What do you want, barging in like this?”

“A grand crocodile is going to appear the day after tomorrow. To kill it, we need an iron rod that can hold its mouth open.”

“W-what are you suddenly…? You look serious.”

Seeing Diller’s earnest expression, the dwarf apparently realized that he was telling the truth.

“It has to withstand a grand crocodile’s bite. Can’t you make something somehow?”

“Come on, a real one’s strong enough to bend an iron shield in an instant… And you need it by the day after tomorrow… Hmm.”

The dwarven smith stroked his long mustache as he thought.

“You have all sorts of weapons here, don’t you?”

After thinking for a while, the dwarf’s eyes widened.

“That might… just work.”

The smith grinned fearlessly.