As soon as Nickan woke up, he immediately reached for his journal. His fingers moved rapidly across the pages, capturing every detail of his experience within Sengoku's mind in vivid wordplay. The memories were still fresh—the alliance with the orcs, the weight of responsibility settling on Sengoku's shoulders, the quiet determination that radiated from him.
Nickan wanted to reserve it all before the details could fade away from his mind.
When he finally set down his pen, satisfaction washed over him. He had documented everything with the precision his grandfather would have appreciated. Standing up from his desk, he stretched his stiff muscles and reached for his phone, wondering if Airi had tried to contact him during his writing session.
To his surprise, there were no messages from her. The empty notification screen left him with an unexpected hollowness. Did she understand his need for space while writing, or was she deliberately avoiding him? The uncertainty gnawed at him.
After a moment's hesitation, Nickan typed a simple message: "How you doing?"
He stared at the screen, watching for the typing indicator. A minute passed with no response, and he was about to set the phone down when it vibrated in his hand.
"Fine never better, what about you?" Airi's reply appeared on the screen.
Relief flooded through him as he typed back: "Awesome, just finished writing for today."
Her response came quickly this time. "Great, I didn't disturb you as per you told."
Nickan felt a wave of ease wash over him. So that explained her silence—she was simply respecting his request for space while writing. Before he could respond, another message from Airi appeared.
"Talk to you later! Be sure to finish the book quick so that I can read it!"
"Got it!" he replied, watching as her status changed to offline.
With nothing else demanding his attention—having dropped out of university to pursue his dream of becoming an author like his grandfather—Nickan turned his thoughts back to the story. He was eager to read ahead, to discover what would happen next in Sengoku's journey.
But as he attempted to continue reading, something unexpected occurred. Instead of new passages about Sengoku's quest, a blue floating panel appeared before him:
[Welcome to Memoir System!]
[New Rule: What happens next will be kept secret for the reader from now on]
[Reliver must wait patiently to witness what will unfold through the relive]
"What?" Nickan muttered in disbelief. So he couldn't read ahead anymore? He had to experience it in real-time through the relive process? The realization left him feeling unsettled and disappointed.
The timer appeared, counting down to his next session. With a troubled mind, Nickan lay down on his bed and closed his eyes, surrendering himself to the process that would transport his consciousness into Sengoku's.
When next he was aware, Nickan found himself perceiving the world through Sengoku's senses. He was in the royal chamber of Sengoku kingdom. The familiar ornate surroundings materialized around him—the high ceiling supported by intricately carved wooden beams, the gleaming marble floor, and the large table where battle plans were spread out. Through Sengoku's eyes, he saw Ron pacing back and forth, concern etched on his weathered face.
"Despite trust issues having only Orcs won't help us defeat Yamato," Ron was saying, his voice echoing slightly in the spacious chamber.
Nickan felt Sengoku's unwavering resolve as he replied, "I know that's why we are going to the Dwarves kingdom Duran, to meet Dorven."
Ron scoffed, his skepticism evident. "Those half men won't be of any help."
"Now my friend you're underestimating the dwarves," Sengoku replied, and Nickan could sense a hint of admonishment in his tone.
"Despite being as your so called half men their hammer has the hardest punch of all kind in existence."
Ron remained unconvinced. "They are only good at making weapons."
"That's right," Sengoku agreed, "they'll make weapons and fight alongside us and trust me when the fight arrives you're gonna wish they are on our side."
Ron sighed, relenting. "Fine, I'll leave the troop selection to you, you're better at this than me."
Nickan felt Sengoku's appreciation as he placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Thanks for your cooperation my friend."
Then came the familiar sensation of Sengoku activating his floating magic. Through Sengoku's experience, Nickan felt the weightlessness as they ascended into the air. Ron and Enro rose alongside Sengoku, surrounded by the shimmering energy field that would transport them to the dwarven lands.
Below them, forests and mountains passed in a blur of green and gray. The journey continued for hours until they approached a massive mountain range. Unlike ordinary mountains, these were clearly shaped by intelligent hands.
Enormous stone faces had been carved into the mountainsides, depicting stern dwarven warriors with flowing beards and narrowed eyes that seemed to follow their approach.
As they descended toward a vast plateau nestled between two mountain peaks, the dwarven kingdom revealed itself. The entire city was built into and around the mountain, with terraces, bridges, and towers extending outward from the rock face. Smoke billowed from hundreds of chimneys, evidence of the forges that burned day and night. The buildings were squat but sturdy, constructed from perfectly fitted stones that would withstand centuries of harsh mountain weather.
The main entrance to the kingdom was a colossal gate of iron and stone, embellished with runes that glowed with a faint blue light.
Dwarf sentries, barely reaching Sengoku's chest in height but twice as broad, stood guard with axes and hammers that looked impossibly heavy.
As they landed on the plateau before the gate, two dwarven soldiers approached. Their beards were braided with metal clasps, and their armor gleamed with a polish that spoke of pride and meticulous care.
"State your business," one of them demanded, his voice gruff but not hostile.
Through Sengoku's voice, Nickan heard the reply, "I am Sengoku, ruler of the Sengoku Kingdom. I seek audience with King Dorven."
The guards exchanged a glance before the taller of the two nodded. "Follow us."
The enormous gates swung open with surprising silence, revealing a cavernous tunnel lit by glowing crystals embedded in the walls. As Sengoku and his companions were led deeper into the mountain, the tunnel opened into a vast underground city. The ceiling soared hundreds of feet above them, supported by massive columns carved to resemble ancient dwarven heroes.
The streets were paved with polished stone, inlaid with veins of precious metals that caught the light from the crystalline illumination. Dwarves moved purposefully about their business, most carrying tools of their trades—smithing hammers, mining picks, or bundles of elaborate blueprints. Despite their small stature, their movements conveyed unshakable confidence and determination.
Every building, from the smallest shop to the grandest hall, showcased the legendary dwarven craftsmanship. No joint was visible between stones; each structure appeared to have been carved from a single massive block. Geometric patterns adorned doorways and windows, precision-cut with mathematical perfection that would be impossible for human hands to achieve.
The deeper they ventured into the kingdom, the more elaborate the architecture became. Fountains spouted water that seemed to dance in complex patterns before falling into basins of silver and gold. Statues of ancestral heroes stood at major intersections, crafted with such detail that they appeared poised to step off their pedestals and speak.
As they approached the royal palace, the scale of dwarven engineering became even more impressive. The palace was not a separate structure but an extension of the mountain itself, with towers and spires that reached toward the distant ceiling of the cavern. The entrance was flanked by two enormous statues of dwarven warriors, their stone eyes seeming to track visitors as they passed.
Inside, the palace corridors were lined with tapestries depicting great battles and legendary crafting achievements. Alcoves held displays of master-crafted weapons and armor, each piece a work of art in its own right. Guards were stationed at regular intervals, their ceremonial armor gleaming with inlaid gemstones that reflected the light from enchanted torches.
Through Sengoku's senses, Nickan experienced being led through a series of increasingly grand hallways until they reached a set of doors that stood three times the height of a dwarf. Carved from a dark wood unknown in human lands and reinforced with bands of mithril, the doors bore the royal crest of House Dorven—a hammer striking an anvil with a shower of golden sparks.
The doors swung open to reveal the throne room. The chamber was vast, its ceiling supported by columns shaped like ancient trees, with branches spreading to form a canopy overhead. The floor was a marvel of stonework, with inlaid patterns depicting the history of the dwarven people from their creation by the forge god to their current prosperity.
At the far end, seated upon a throne carved from a single massive gemstone, was King Dorven. He was larger than the average dwarf, though still shorter than Sengoku by a head. His beard was golden, intricately braided and adorned with clips of precious metals. He wore the traditional yellow attire of dwarven royalty—a tunic embroidered with geometric patterns in gold thread, and a cloak trimmed with the fur of mountain cats. Upon his head sat a crown of gold and mithril, studded with gems that caught the light from crystal chandeliers overhead.
Upon seeing them approach, Dorven straightened in his throne, his expression neutral but attentive.
Nickan felt Sengoku's diplomatic demeanor as he spoke, "Dorven, the dwarf king, how are you?"
Dorven's response was immediate and blunt. "The alliance is a no as I've joined hands with Yamato already."
Through Sengoku's emotions, Nickan experienced the shock and disbelief. "What are you saying? The esteemed warriors like you joining hands with that Yamato."
"That's right," Dorven confirmed without hesitation. "They'll be paying us heftily for our weapons and aids, what happens to the world is not of our concern."
Nickan felt Sengoku's desperate attempt to convince the king, his voice taking on a pleading tone, unusual for the proud ruler. "Please try to understand, he'll ruin the entire Elysium continent."
Dorven's expression remained unmoved. "It's already done, I'm sorry and you may leave."
Guards stepped forward from their positions along the walls, making it clear that the audience was over. As they were escorted out, Nickan sensed Sengoku's surge of anger and determination as he turned one last time to address the dwarf king.
"You're gonna regret it badly!" Sengoku declared, his voice echoing in the grand chamber.
Dorven merely waved dismissively as Sengoku and his companions were led from the royal chamber, their mission a failure.
As they exited the mountain fortress, Nickan felt the weight of this setback hanging heavy in Sengoku's mind. The alliance they had hoped to forge had been preemptively claimed by their enemy.
With every step back toward the plateau where they would activate their floating magic once more, the challenge before them grew more daunting.
Yet in Sengoku's thoughts, Nickan sensed not defeat but a hardening resolve.