My World Traveling System: The Harbinger Of Death

(You can skip this chapter if you're not interested in Terra's World Building)

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(Hero of Dwarves POV)

I hate Elves.

Seriously, I hate them.

Prideful, arrogant, annoying…

And I can go on and on about how horrible they are.

I never thought that such an adorable little girl would awake such hate against another race just as now.

I was… I always thought that I was a rather tolerant man.

I mean… I always took a lot of responsibilities, and when my father passed out, I made sure to honor the smithing workshop he left for me.

Life was not easy in the nation of Graktun, you had to work your ass off if you wanted to get somewhere.

This is why a little and arrogant princess who had everything always given to her for free made me so angered…

Alright, calm down, Grudgrug, you can do this, you are not like this…

You are better than that pesky little woman.

Yes, calm down.

Haahh…

I have to make a good impression with the other Heroes, the King had given me the task to represent our nation, I cannot fail him and the rest of the people.

I cannot fail my little siblings either.

They all look up to me.

What would they think if they saw me getting all angry over an elf?

I cannot let this slide, I have to be more tolerant and more… strong, resistant, resilient.

I am the Hero of Blazing Hammerstone, I am the shield of the heroes, the strong and resilient one, hard as a rock, hot as flames, unmovable and strong…

…I am getting a bit stressed already over it.

Well, where should I start?

I have lived my entire life with many responsibilities, but never in my entire life would I had thought that I would hold onto such a big responsibility as… saving the world.

My life was already filled with a lot of stress, yet I was pulling through it somehow.

It is not easy to be a Blacksmith when you are just 12 years of age with a recently deceased father and three little siblings to take care of.

It is not easy at all, even less when you are piss poor and the only thing left was food for a week, the smith filled with dust, and a hammer.

But I pulled through it.

It was hard.

There were moments when I thought I would not be able to do it.

Many times, in fact…

Haahh…

I still remember the stress.

Well, I am stressed now too.

I had to somehow manage at that time.

Thankfully, I remembered my old man's teachings, which I sometimes ignored due to being such an idiot.

And I began to forge.

I used my magic to enhance the fire and to make my hammer hits more precise.

I used the bits of metal around to forge my first sword.

It was not the finest of works.

But I remember pouring all of my soul into it.

To the point that after finishing it, I fell asleep right after.

When I went to sell it, I was surprised…

They said that although it did not look as good, it had some magic in it.

I never thought I had the talent to make magic weapons.

Although my father was also good at making them, he always said that it took a lot of effort, talent, and knowledge to make them…

That day, I had applied everything I had, my soul, my magic, everything.

I knew that… if I screwed up, I would have to go to the streets and beg for food and money to sustain my little siblings.

I could not… possibly think about doing such a thing.

And there was no way in hell I was going to sell my father's workshop…

So I just poured my very soul into it.

I think my Mana Core became so exhausted due to it that I fell asleep right after.

But when I went to sell it they told me it was a magic weapon!

A magic weapon!

My first weapon was… a magic weapon.

Magic Weapons are a special type of Weapon, the best ones, they are superior because everyone uses magic, so we want a weapon that can conduct magic or even unleash an elemental attack if we pour mana into it.

This is why they are more valuable than conventional weapons.

And because not many people around my town knew about making them, it sold like hotcakes.

It was said to be of a nice quality, and it even could unleash a slash of fire when mana was poured into it.

I was paid enough to buy food for the rest of the month for all four of us, and also enough money to buy more materials and craft more magic weapons.

From that gamble where I almost died by making that weapon, I managed to pull through.

But it was not as if life was going to be easy from then on.

Life will always throw you more and more challenges, it never stops.

Many times I failed to make a magic weapon and I ended up wasting the ore…

Many times I lost money.

But after months of practice and gambling the money I barely had, I finally mastered my blacksmithing technique.

Or at least, just the bare minimum for it to not break nor fail when it became magical.

But even then, I had to pour my very soul every day into the smith.

There was not a single day where I could rest.

The stress… was horrible.

But it kept me going.

My little siblings needed me, I could not fail them.

I could not fail them at all.

I had to help them survive, I had to gain more money.

There was no way around it.

I kept trying, working hard, as much as I could.

Through weeks, months, years…

Until I had finally managed to create some sort of stability, my workshop was finally flourishing, I was selling more and more items…

I became well known around my area of the nation and even merchants from far away came to purchase my items.

I really thought I had finally gotten somewhere.

My siblings were receiving a good education, and we're getting good at magic too…

Father, I really… did it.

Remembering all of your teachings really did work…

Every little detail was worth it, you were really good at this.

I am getting good, but nowhere as good as you…

I miss you…

…

As my life kept on going, one day came to me the notice that I had not done something essential.

I had never registered as a citizen, and if I didn't do it, they were taking all my things away!

What?!

I never knew I needed some stupid tattoo.

Sigh.

So I went to the church and asked the priest to make the ritual for it.

And then it was done.

Not really…

I was transported to a different place.

Gods appeared.

I do not like this…

These were the Gods… yeah, those guys that are the progenitors of the Dwarves, my race.

Ostris, the Goddess of Fire and War resembled a tall giantess with four arms, each one with a blazing weapon, her skin was red and she wore clothes made of flames.

And Graktun, the God of Earth and Craftmanship resembled a giant statue, a walking man made of rocks, medals, crystals, and ores of all shapes and sizes, although he was very small compared to Ostris.

…They asked me to become the Hero.

I…

I was surprised.

But…

No, I did not like this at all.

No, no, no…

Please don't.

I did not want to become a Hero.

This… after getting to this point, you are giving me an even greater responsibility?

Oh, man…

I implored the Gods.

I literally kneeled and asked them to not make me the Hero.

But they did it anyway.

They said that it was a thing of the soul and that there was not anyone more qualified than me.

I barked about my life, but they said that I had to bear with this burden.

And here we are.

Unlike any of the Heroes here I do not have any companion.

I had no time to make good friends around the world, I was working my ass off to grow stronger and at the same time take care of my siblings.

There was no time to socialize with anyone that I crossed paths with like some cartoony character.

I had a very hard life to take care of.

However, as I worked harder and harder, the nation got to know about me more.

The King then called me to him, and he gave me a Noble Title for being a Hero, and since then, I managed to get ourselves a better house outside of the suburbs.

The King was… a good man.

I was happy that he was not a corrupted bastard.

He gave me what I needed, and I gave him what he wanted, to grow stronger and save the world I suppose.

And then, here we were.

I met this band of Heroes from around the world.

And yes, this was the time when my hate against Elves started.

Sylphid, this woman was… something else.

And well, the others were not so bad.

No, they were decent people.

Lance was a good man, he had simple beginnings like me, although he might have not struggled as much, we managed to get a good relationship with each other from the beginning.

He had good companions as well, good people.

And then there was the mysterious Demoness Mizginneth.

She was older than all our ages combined.

And yet she was selected as the Heroine.

Although she was mysterious, she was polite and gentle, a good person too.

…But Sylphid…

Hahh…

If it were not because of this woman, perhaps the Hero Party would be way better.

…

Wait, I feel like I am… forgetting someone.

…Was there any Hero for the Beast-kin?

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