Healing in the Country Side with a Baby Dragon - CHAPTER 10 (Dragons and Dwarves)

Dwarves are a notoriously stubborn and hardy race, built for life deep within underground mines. They are a people of blacksmiths, tirelessly forging iron whether enduring the freezing cold of mountain peaks or the scorching heat of a blast furnace. Even the arrogant elves look down on them, but dwarves have one definitive, absolute natural enemy.

Dragons.

Have you ever heard the sound of a dragon’s heartbeat echoing while digging deep into an iron vein? It is a genuinely hair-raising, terrifying experience. Hearing those deep, resonant breaths and the heavy thud of a heartbeat underground makes you feel like a colossal maw is about to open up and swallow the world whole.

"Dragons are greedy, terrifying monsters." the dwarf—who eventually introduced himself as Baldur—gasped, wheezing heavily as he cowered beneath our wooden porch. 

"I wouldn't even bat an eye at a Balrog. But a dragon? No way. Absolutely not."

So, the second he caught sight of Seol-ah, pure primal instinct took over and he dove straight under the floorboards. No matter how much I pleaded with him to come out, he flatly refused because the "calamity" was waiting outside. Instead, he frantically gestured from the shadows, trying to pull me under with him.

"You’ll die if you stay out there! Get down here! You're a human—don't you know how precious your life is?!"

Anyone passing by our yard would have assumed we were filming a post-apocalyptic disaster movie. I scratched my head, wondering how on earth I was going to explain this.

While I was lost in thought, Seol-ah took matters into her own hands.

"Bam!"

Having waddled down into the yard without me noticing, she suddenly bent down and poked her adorable round face straight under the porch.

"GYAH!"

Baldur scrambled backward on his hands and knees, his bushy beard scraping the dirt. Seol-ah burst into a fit of giggles, finding his panicked reaction completely hilarious. Honestly, watching a heavily bearded, miniature old man panic-crawling at full speed under my house was far more terrifying than any dragon.

Realizing the poor guy was on the verge of actually fainting from hyperventilation, I finally intervened.

"Um, look, Baldur. Seol-ah 'is' a dragon, but she’s not a bad one."

"There is no such thing as a good dragon!" 

Baldur shrieked from the darkness. 

"They don't even possess a concept of morality! They are literally just walking, breathing natural disasters!"

'Wow, telling me how you really feel.' 

It was a good thing Seol-ah couldn't understand complex speech yet; otherwise, her feelings would have been deeply hurt.

"No, really, it's fine." I insisted, trying to sound as reassuring as possible. 

"I’m this child’s father. You don't have to worry about a thing."

"Huh?"

Baldur stopped trembling for a split second, his face blanking into utter bewilderment. 

"How can a mere human be the father of a dragon?"

"It just sort of happened."

"Ha! What kind of absolute nonse—"

Baldur cut himself off, his jaw snapping shut as his eyes darted wildly. He fell into a deep, intense silence, contemplating something with immense gravity before slowly nodding to himself.

"I see... Ah, no, of course. I understand completely."

"Right. Well, since you understand, please come out. Quickly now."

"I am coming out... Yes, I shall step into the light."

Seemingly resigned to his fate, Baldur finally crawled out from under the porch. Up close, he looked incredibly disheveled. His clothes were torn and tattered in multiple places, and his face was completely worn out from sheer exhaustion. I stared at him, wondering what I was supposed to do with a legendary fantasy craftsman who had literally dropped from the sky.

Right then, a blue system message chimed in front of my eyes.

[The Healing Life of a Beginner Farmer]

[Quest: A Weary Traveler]

[A tired and exhausted dwarf friend has come to visit! Treat him to a hearty meal. Who knows? You might even receive a legendary dwarven weapon in return.]

Since a quest had practically made the decision for me, and we were both hungry anyway, there was no reason to delay.

"Would you care to join us for lunch?" I asked.

"A... a meal, you say?"

For some reason, his demeanor suddenly shifted. His posture stiffened, and his speech became oddly formal. It looked like he had recovered from his initial panic, only to replace it with extreme caution.

"Sure. Though, I am not particularly hungry—"

*Grumbleeee!*

Contrary to his words, his body was brutally honest. The second his eyes drifted to the table I had set, a thunderous roar erupted from deep within his stomach. Baldur’s face flushed bright red beneath his thick beard, and Seol-ah let out another delighted giggle at the sound.

"Come on up and eat." I laughed, guiding him to the porch. 

"I’ve already prepared plenty of food."

"Then... I shall accept your hospitality with gratitude."

The dwarf climbed onto the raised porch and sat down stiffly at the low table. I pulled out a fresh bowl and spooned a generous portion of the pork belly bibimbap into it for him.

'Wait, don't dwarves usually love a good drink?' 

Recalling a trope I had read in countless fantasy novels, I stepped over to the refrigerator and pulled out a chilled bottle of soju.

By the time I sat back down, Seol-ah had already waddled over and was sitting directly in front of Baldur, curiously stroking his bushy beard. The poor dwarf was completely frozen in place, paralyzed by the apex predator sitting inches from his nose.

"Seol-ah, you shouldn't touch an adult's beard like that." I corrected gently.

"Heuoh?" she chirped, looking up at me.

"No, Seol-ah. Hands off."

"Yes..." she sighed, her shoulders drooping as she reluctantly pulled her hands back.

No matter how cute she was, boundaries were boundaries. I couldn't just let her do whatever she wanted; proper manners had to be taught early.

"It... it is perfectly fine." Baldur choked out, trying to sound jovial like a kind grandfather. 

"You may touch my beard as much as your heart desires, little one."

"Huh? Are you sure it's alright?" I asked.

"Yes, yes! Please, feel free."

Seol-ah’s face lit up instantly. She leaned back in and began gently petting his beard again.

"Just make sure you don't pull too hard, okay? It'll hurt him."

"Bam!"

Seol-ah nodded vigorously, smoothing out the dwarf's whiskers. The sight of a tiny dragon treating a legendary blacksmith's beard like a fluffy plush toy was so absurd I had to stifle a laugh.

‘Ha... haha... I’m glad she’s enjoying herself,’ Baldur thought, a bead of cold sweat rolling down his neck.

With a literal primeval predator sitting directly in front of him, lightly petting his chin, his mind was screaming in absolute terror.

‘I’m doomed. My dwarven pride is completely finished.’

He was weeping internally, his hands and feet trembling so violently he could barely hold his posture. When he had first beheld the juvenile dragon, his ancient dwarven instincts had practically screamed. Dwarves possessed an innate ability to sense dragons—an evolutionary trait forged through centuries of hiding from them in the dark. So even though this creature looked like an innocent toddler, he knew with absolute certainty that it was a harbinger of ruin.

Because of that, he was completely certain of another thing: the man with the gentle, easygoing smile sitting across from him could not possibly be a normal human. A regular human being a dragon's father? Utterly impossible.

‘He is a hidden primordial power.’ Baldur concluded, his heart hammering.

The true threat wasn't the laughing baby dragon; it was this man. He was an ancient entity whose true identity completely bypassed even a dwarf's tracking instincts.

‘A Polymorphed Dragon! And an incredibly ancient one at that!’

Baldur was absolutely convinced. The being who had summoned him here was a transcendent Dragon Lord—likely an Agent Dragon, a creature so old and powerful it was practically a demigod. Otherwise, none of this made any sense.

‘He is engaging in Yuhi—the ancient dragon pastime of taking a mortal guise to live among lesser races.’

One could never let their guard down during a dragon's game. Mortals were routinely erased from existence based purely on a dragon's passing whim. Furthermore, this was an Ancient Dragon, a near-deity. While ancient dragons possessed immense patience, if a mortal foolishly ruined their game and incurred their wrath, the resulting apocalypse would be unmanageable.

According to ancient lore, it was strictly forbidden to break a dragon's immersion during their game. You had to play along completely and pretend you noticed nothing unusual. But at the same time, if you treated their "human" persona with outright disrespect, they might take offense.

‘What on earth do you want me to do?!’

Baldur screamed in his mind, trying to maintain a stoic face.

The golden rule of survival was simple: match their rhythm. Show just enough sincerity to keep them pleased. Even if you walked directly into a dragon's lair, you could survive as long as you kept your wits about you.

While he was making this silent oath, the baby dragon continued to braid his whiskers. At the very least, she seemed happy and amused. However, the intense, expectant gaze of the disguised Dragon Lord—Jin-sol—was becoming unbearable. Baldur desperately wished he could read the ancient entity's mind.

"Alright, Seol-ah, that’s enough."

Jin-sol suddenly spoke, breaking the tension. 

"Let’s eat now."

"Bam!"

‘I survived!’ Baldur wept with relief internally.

He lowered his gaze to the large bowl placed before him, only to freeze again. What on earth was this substance? The food was a shocking, violent red. Could something that looked exactly like bubbling subterranean lava actually be considered edible?

"Please, dig in." the Dragon Lord urged.

Swallowing his dry saliva, Baldur picked up his spoon. The presentation felt a bit chaotic, but he knew better than to show even a flicker of hesitation. If he insulted the dragon's cuisine, his life was forfeit.

Beside him, the two dragons began eating without a care in the world.

"Bam!"

"Is it delicious, Seol-ah?"

"Yes!"

The baby dragon wiggled her entire body in pure bliss, food smudged on her cheeks, while the man smiled warmly at her. It looked like a picture-perfect, peaceful family dinner.

‘Is it... actually safe?’

Nerving himself, Baldur scooped up a generous spoonful of the bibimbap and brought it to his mouth. The instant it hit his tongue, a wave of intense fire exploded across his senses.

‘There is no way this food is made for mortal!’

His hands shook. It felt exactly like he had just shoveled a scoop of molten slag straight from the blast furnace into his mouth. His tongue went numb. Yet, he forced his face to remain completely expressionless. He couldn't show weakness; the Dragon Lord was watching him with intense interest. If he insulted the food, he’d be incinerated on the spot—

‘...Wait?’

A sudden transformation occurred as he chewed. The initial, paralyzing heat began to shift. The subtle, earthy sweetness of the white rice and the incredibly rich, savory fat of the grilled pork belly began to cut through the fire. Then came the remarkably crisp, refreshing texture of the vegetables.

It was incredibly spicy, yet undeniably magnificent!

But the true masterpiece was the heavy, profoundly rich aroma that blanketed his palate at the very end. The fragrance of pure sesame oil completely dazzled the dwarf's culinary instincts.

"This is delicious!" 

Baldur gasped, the praise slipping out completely unprompted.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, finally relaxing. 

"I was a bit worried it might be too spicy for you, but I’m incredibly glad it suits your taste."

"It carries quite a sting, but it is a profoundly rewarding heat." Baldur replied. 

He had said it initially to appease me, but it was now a hundred percent sincere. He particularly loved the rich flavor of the finely chopped pork belly intermingling with the rice.

However, as a dwarf, he felt a sudden pang of deep regret. A feast like this desperately required one crucial element. It was a shame to eat such heavy, savory food without a proper drink.

"If you're looking for a drink to go with it, try this." I said, as if reading his mind, and slid a sleek green bottle across the table. 

It was topped with a neat, metallic red cap.

"Oh... what a peculiar vessel." 

Baldur stared at the soju bottle, completely fascinated. He had never seen glassware crafted quite like this, and he looked entirely lost on how to break the seal.

"You just grip the cap and twist it open." I demonstrated with my own bottle.

Baldur copied my movements, twisting the cap until it cracked open with a satisfying click. 

"Aha! What an incredibly ingenious mechanism!"

He was genuinely astonished. It was a simple application, yet brilliantly efficient. 

‘As expected of a dragon's intellect.' he thought.

Even better, the fluid inside was unmistakably alcohol. Facing a pair of primordial entities with a completely sober mind had been a waking nightmare, so this was a welcome salvation. Baldur threw his head back and took a massive swig straight from the bottle.

"Mmm..."

He exhaled a breath of clean vapor, thoroughly satisfied. The spirit didn't possess a particularly complex aroma, nor was its proof overwhelmingly high, but the clean, slightly bitter, and crisp finish was excellent. The sharp, refreshing burn made it an ideal drink for a solitary craftsman.

But the true magic manifested when he paired a swig of soju with a mouthful of the pork belly bibimbap. The clean, neutral alcohol acted as a perfect palate cleanser against the rich, spicy weight of the food.

"Ah... that hits the spot!" Baldur roared in pure admiration.

Since time immemorial, dwarven lore dictated that an alcoholic beverage was only as good as the food paired with it. At this moment, the soju and the bibimbap were locked in a flawless, symbiotic harmony. Completely intoxicated by what he assumed was high-level dragon culinary magic, the dwarf began rapidly stuffing his face, alternating between massive spoonfuls of rice and deep gulps of alcohol.

Beside him, Seol-ah and I just watched, smiling brightly at his newfound appetite.

"How on earth did you forge such a flavor?" Baldur asked, his craftsman's curiosity thoroughly piqued by the structural perfection of the bibimbap. 

How could something this delicious be created? Was there a complex spell matrix involved? A secret, legendary recipe? Rare, otherworldly ingredients?

I offered a simple, casual shrug. "Oh, it's nothing special. It's just a dish made by mixing together whatever random ingredients you happen to have lying around the kitchen. We call it bibimbap."

"Bibimbap...?"

"Yes. The ingredients might seem completely separate at first, but when you mix them all together like this, their individual flavors blend to forge an entirely new taste."

"Can you truly just mix anything together?"

"Pretty much, yeah. As long as you choose ingredients that complement one another and season them correctly, they'll harmonize."

"Ingredients that complement one another..." Baldur murmured.

As the warm food and crisp alcohol surged through his veins, the paralyzing terror that had gripped his heart began to dissolve, allowing him to clearly take in his surroundings. Unlike the barren, jagged crags of his homeland, this place was surrounded by lush, vibrant green mountains, and in the distance, he could catch the shimmering horizon of a colossal body of water. 

'A lake that massive... as expected, a dragon's lair operates on an entirely different scale.'

Perhaps this ancient, hidden entity could provide the answer to the dilemma that had plagued his people.

Pondering deeply, Baldur looked up and addressed Jin-sol—the hidden Dragon Lord. 

"What if... what if the ingredients simply refuse to mix? What if they clash, fight, and harbor nothing but hatred for one another?"

He stared at me intently, desperate to receive a fragment of the boundless wisdom belonging to a creature that had witnessed the turning of eras.

I chewed thoughtfully before answering.

"Sometimes, the ingredients that seem the absolute least likely to go together can end up creating the most mind-blowing flavor. Of course, you have to put in the effort to find the right balance and the right technique to make it work. But generally speaking, there's always a way."

The hidden master had delivered his verdict: 'There is nothing that cannot be harmonized.'

"I mean, people out there have managed to make things like Kimchi stew and mint chocolate work." I chuckled.

"There's really nothing you can't create if you try."

Though Baldur had absolutely no clue what "Kimchi stew" or "mint chocolate" were, he assumed they were legendary celestial delicacies consumed only by ancient dragons. Nodding in profound enlightenment, he suddenly reached into his tattered armor.

With a sweeping gesture, he began pulling objects out of thin air, a torrent of items cascading onto the porch.

"Please! Take whichever of these pleases your eyes!"

These were the finest masterpieces of weaponry and armor he had forged over his entire lifetime. He was pulling them directly from his highly prized, personal subspace pocket. How could he possibly leave this place after receiving such profound hospitality and cosmic wisdom without offering tribute? To disrespect a dragon after receiving its favor was an explicit invitation to an agonizing death.

"In fact, you may take them all!" 

Baldur declared heroically, bracing himself to part with his life's work.

I stared at the pile, completely stunned by his sudden, intense declaration. But my eyes didn't linger on the glowing, legendary longswords or the pristine enchanted armor. Instead, I pointed toward a specific item at the bottom of the pile.

"Uh... by any chance, do you have any more farm equipment?"

The item I was holding up was a pristine, mastercrafted dwarven hoe.