As time marched unceasingly toward the year's end, the long autumn quietly slipped away. By mid-December, the first snow fell upon Norelia, heralding the official arrival of winter.
The coming of winter meant the Winter Solstice Festival was drawing near. It was the final festival of the year and the first of the new—a time for family reunions. Many factories and shops would close for the holidays.
However, the Winter Solstice was a human holiday; the dwarves couldn't care less. While humans counted down the days on their fingers, the dwarves of Norelia were working with every ounce of their strength. Their goal was singular: in the season of peak consumer enthusiasm, they wanted to make money, make money, and make even more money!
"Move it, boys! Box up those cut stone slabs, and remember the padding! If one gets chipped, it's coming out of your wages! Careful! How did I end up with such a clumsy nephew? —Where's Steelshield? Has anyone seen that girl?"
The dwarf Firehammer had been hollering since he woke at dawn. His characteristically booming dwarven voice was clearly audible not just in the shop, but even at the far end of Adventurer's Avenue. Lately, the neighborhood's residents had been waking up exceptionally early; everyone's biological clock had synchronized with Firehammer's.
One only had to look at the bustling scene in the dwarven shop to understand why he was shouting.
Firehammer had summoned his entire extended family from the Dwarven Mines. Since the original storefront couldn't contain them all, he had simply bought out the neighboring herbalist and bookstore, knocked down the walls, and integrated the three shops into a single massive workshop.
Expanding the storefront had its downsides, though. With more doors came more opportunities for thieves to slip in. Some, hearing that Firehammer was the producer of the obsidian slabs, assumed he must have a stockpile of Magic Tablets and tried to sneak in.
Fortunately, the dwarves were alert to a man. They caught the thieves red-handed and hung them in front of the shop as a public warning, leaving them to be mocked by passersby.
Yet, this didn't stop the theft. Adventurer's Avenue was too crowded and full of prying eyes. Consequently, Firehammer had purchased an old factory in Norelia's new industrial zone, intending to convert it into a stone-cutting plant equipped with full security measures. Once the new cutting machines were installed, they would move the entire operation there.
The inventor of that stone-cutting machine was Steelshield—Firehammer's niece.
Speaking of that girl, Firehammer's head throbbed as if a dwarven ceremonial guard were taking turns hammering his temples.
Steelshield was the smartest of all his nieces and nephews, but she was also the most troublesome.
She had been different since she was a child. While other dwarven girls played with axes, saws, and morning stars, Steelshield was obsessed with writing and drawing. While other girls begged their parents for new chainmail and helmets, Steelshield begged her Uncle Firehammer to bring books back from Norelia.
Reading! A dwarf who liked to read! It was as inconceivable as a Demon King who loved peace!
She had even gone so far as to apply for correspondence courses at Norelia University!
Her parents sighed every day: why couldn't this child be like a normal dwarven girl, passionate about smashing rocks and the heads of her enemies?
Because the expansion required extra hands, Steelshield had followed her cousins to Norelia. She was deeply dissatisfied with Firehammer's manual, workshop-style production methods. In just three days, she designed a stone-cutting machine that required only one operator and increased output at least fivefold.
Firehammer was delighted, of course, as it meant they could take on more orders. (Rumor had it that the Demon King was very displeased with dwarven efficiency and was considering outsourcing some business to the goblin tribes.)
But Steelshield didn't stop after designing the machine. She asked for a Magic Tablet to take back for "deconstruction and study." Since then, she had become mysterious, her room constantly emitting strange tapping sounds and small explosions. This left Firehammer terrified every night, fearing he would wake up to find his shop leveled to the ground.
Firehammer directed several nephews to load crates of cut slabs onto a wagon, making the axles groan. He climbed onto the seat, snapped the reins, and urged the horse forward.
The little pony, brought from the Dwarven Mines, gave its master a look of deep reproach as it strained to pull the heavy load.
Suddenly, the wagon sagged as a small figure nimbly hopped aboard. Ignoring the pony's increasingly gloomy gaze, she said cheerfully to Firehammer, "Uncle, you're going to Lord Lorne's shop, right? Take me with you!"
Firehammer's head began to throb again.
"Steelshield!" he bellowed. "I'm going on serious business! Don't cause trouble!"
"I've never been to the Magic Game Store," Steelshield shrugged. "And I have serious business too. I have urgent matters to discuss with Lord Lorne."
"You can tell me, and I'll pass it on!" This increasingly defiant niece made Firehammer's chest feel tight with exasperation.
"Why add an extra step to a process I can handle myself?" Steelshield shrugged. "By the way, I visited a human factory and felt quite inspired. I'm planning to invent a new type of cutting machine that will increase efficiency tenfold! I haven't figured out the power source yet—I was going to use steam, but the human factory gave me an idea. Maybe electricity would be better, but that would require..."
Firehammer rubbed his forehead. "The current machine is fine, my dear girl!"
"How could that be enough? Orders will only increase in the future. You wouldn't want Lord Lorne to give the business to the goblins, would you?"
"I... of course I don't!" Firehammer grumbled, stroking his thick beard. "But too much production isn't always good. There are only so many people in the world willing to buy a Magic Tablet. If everyone has one, we won't be able to sell any more, and they'll just become dead inventory..."
"That's easy, Uncle," Steelshield said nonchalantly. "When that happens, we just start selling the second generation of Magic Game Tablets!"
Firehammer: "???"
The moment the wagon entered Sunset Avenue, Steelshield was stunned by the kaleidoscope of sights before her.
Winter in Norelia was supposed to be draped in silver, showcasing the elegance and cleanliness of a seaside city. But Sunset Avenue looked like a vibrant prism. The front of every shop was plastered with colorful posters or lined with multi-colored standees.
Upon closer inspection, while the posters and standees varied, they all bore the same striking text:
[Hero's Legend 2: War of the Gods. Winter Solstice Festival—The Epic Release!]
"So much advertising... how much did that cost?" Steelshield murmured, her eyes wide.
Firehammer gave a toothy grin. "That gentleman never does a losing deal. He'll make back every penny spent on those ads."
The hustle and bustle of the Magic Game Experience Store far exceeded Steelshield's imagination. Even Firehammer, who delivered goods here daily, was shocked by the sea of people both inside and outside the shop.
The screen protector shop next door was also packed. Recently, Lorne had officially included a free screen protector in the packaging of the Magic Tablets, which caused a temporary dip in the protector shop's traffic. However, they quickly bounced back by announcing a new series of "collaboration" protective cases, pulling the crowds right back in.
Firehammer drove the wagon into the back alley and parked at the store's rear entrance. A few young werewolves were building a snowman nearby; seeing Firehammer, they hurried over to help unload.
"Happy Winter Solstice, boys!" Firehammer waved cheerfully. "Is Lord Lorne in?"
A werewolf pointed inside. Steelshield craned her neck and saw a tall, silver-haired man who looked exactly like a human emerging, flanked by a group of monsters.
He was turning his head to speak loudly to a Dullahan. "That's right! When hero's Legend 2 launches, the first game will also get a new free DLC! Why free? Because the free stuff is often the most expensive, Sir!"
Noticing the dwarves outside, the man waved to dismiss the monsters and strode toward Firehammer.
"Mr. Firehammer, how is business?"
"Thanks to you, wonderful!" Firehammer's smile was so wide it nearly reached his ears.
Steelshield looked at her uncle in disbelief; she had never seen him pull such an exaggerated expression.
The silver-haired man said, "Come in for some hot tea."
"You're too kind." Firehammer nudged Steelshield forward. "This is Lord Lorne."
Steelshield hesitated, unsure how to greet a Demon King. She didn't know how monsters greeted each other, and the dwarven way was clearly inappropriate—two dwarves would bang their foreheads together, the force of the hit indicating the closeness of the relationship. Steelshield couldn't even reach Lorne's forehead, and Lorne clearly didn't want to go back to work with a lump on his head.
In the end, they compromised. Steelshield stood on her tiptoes, Lorne leaned down, and they shook hands in the human fashion.
"This is my niece, Steelshield," Firehammer introduced. "She's just arrived in Norelia from the countryside—the ignorant girl insisted on coming to pay her respects. But she's very bright; the new cutting machine in our shop was her invention..."
Steelshield interrupted her uncle. "Let's not waste Lord Lorne's time. Let's get straight to the point. Lord Lorne, I've studied your Magic Game Tablet, and I've found a major flaw—"
Firehammer was horrified. "How dare you! How can you criticize Lord Lorne's invention!"
Steelshield ignored her uncle and continued. "Obsidian is very cheap, but it's not particularly excellent at channeling or storing magic. If it were me, I'd switch to moonstone."
Firehammer tugged at Steelshield's arm. "Mother Earth! You're going to get us blasted all the way to the sun!"
But Lorne wasn't angry at all. Instead, he looked at the dwarven girl with curiosity. "The mines around Norelia don't produce moonstone. If we import it, the costs become hard to control. Besides, large, intact pieces of moonstone aren't easy to find."
"I know. That's why I came up with a solution: inserting small flakes of moonstone inside the obsidian. That way, the magic flows faster while keeping costs down. I've drawn a diagram; please take a look."
Steelshield pulled a scroll from beneath her leather armor. Firehammer's jaw nearly hit the ground. When on earth had she hidden that on her person?
Lorne unfurled the scroll, scanned it briefly, and then closed it with a snap.
Firehammer began looking for cover. He wasn't sure if a trash can or a cardboard box could protect him from a Demon King's wrathful strike, but at least he'd die with a modicum of dignity.
"Miss Steelshield, is it? Are you currently working in Mr. Firehammer's shop?" Lorne asked.
Firehammer said nervously, "She's just an Intern! It's not even a formal job! I'm sending her back home in a couple of days!"
Lorne said, "How much is Mr. Firehammer paying you? I'll double it and hire you as the head of my Hardware Development Team."
Firehammer: "?"
Steelshield said calmly, "I have a Bachelor of Engineering from Norelia University."
"Triple."
"I want a salary, and I want paid annual leave."
"Deal."
Following human custom, the two spat in their palms and shook hands firmly.
Firehammer: "???"
Steelshield patted her uncle hard on the shoulder. "Once I get my paycheck, I'll buy you a steam carriage. Let's let our little pony retire."
From that day on, the legend of "Steelshield the Liberator" began to circulate among the local pony population.
The Winter Solstice Festival was finally approaching. On the eve of the festival, heavy snow fell—a traditional omen of good fortune for the coming year in Norelia.
For many residents, this was destined to be a unique Winter Solstice. At midnight, Hero's Legend 2: War of the Gods would officially go live.
With the release of the second and third batches of Magic Tablets, more and more people had started playing magic games, leading to unprecedented hype for the sequel.
Everyone was speculating on what kind of game it would be. Would it be a pixel RPG like the first one but with a new story and characters? Would the classic characters return? What secrets lay behind the temporal rifts?
Such discussions had become the staple of dinner conversations. Failing to offer an opinion on the matter was seen as being "out of touch" or "ignorant of world affairs."
Leading newspapers like the Pioneer had even opened dedicated gaming sections to publish reader theories. It was said that the underground gambling dens were taking massive bets on how many characters from the first game would appear; the stakes were staggering.
Of course, not every resident was eagerly awaiting the new game. Some were indifferent—or rather, they dared not show interest. Their boss loathed any mention of "magic games."
Outside Norelia, by the shores of Moonlight Lake.
A lakeside villa was brilliantly lit, turning the frozen lake into a dazzling gold. This was the country estate of Norelia's wealthiest man, Mr. Wynn. Every festival, the generous Mr. Wynn would host a banquet here.
Not only were his business partners invited, but even employees had a chance to attend. Employees viewed an invitation as a mark of high honor, signaling that their hard work had caught the big boss's eye and that their future was bright.
Mr. Wynn's banquet was, of course, the height of luxury. The tables were laden with delicacies and fine wines; the waiters were impeccably dressed and trained; the orchestra was hired from the capital, led by a renowned master. Gentlemen discussed business and politics loudly while ladies chatted about fashion and art. The laughter and music drifted across the frozen lake, even drowning out the sound of the wind and snow.
However, amidst the scent of perfume and the clinking of glasses, a clandestine transaction was taking place.
"Did you bring the stuff?" "I brought it." "Standard terms, five percent commission." "I risked exposure smuggling this in. I want more." "...Curse you! Fine! Give it to me!" "It's not safe here. We'll meet in the villa gardens later."
Chris held Miss Yvette's hand as they glided across the ballroom floor. To outsiders, they looked like a perfect pair—a handsome youth and a beautiful lady—whispering sweet nothings. In reality, their conversation was anything but romantic.
Every winter, Chris came here with his parents to vacation, enjoying the thrill of skiing or the quiet of ice fishing. The Winter Solstice Eve ball was usually the highlight for him; what teenager doesn't look forward to dancing with ladies?
But this year, he had lost all interest in dancing, skiing, or fishing. He didn't even glance at the ladies by the dance floor. His heart belonged elsewhere—not to a flower-like socialite, but to a silver-armored, sword-wielding hero. That's right: "Crimson Thunder" Red!
At midnight, hero's legend 2 would be released! Chris couldn't wait to find a quiet corner to play! To hell with the banquet!
He gritted his teeth and danced with several daughters and wives of important business partners, maintaining a fake smile. Finally, as midnight approached and the bells began to toll twelve times, everyone gathered on the terrace to watch the fireworks. Chris was overjoyed and signaled to Yvette. The two slipped away into the garden.
The garden was a world of white, with snow swirling in the air. The thin evening wear offered little protection against the cold. Chris shivered violently. Yvette, wearing a low-cut gown, seemed completely unaffected. Chris's respect for her deepened.
"Where are the top-up cards?" he asked urgently.
"I hid them in my stockings. Turn around!" Yvette said sternly.
Chris complied. A minute later, Yvette said "Okay," and he turned back.
Yvette pressed three cards into his hand. Chris immediately hitched up his trouser leg and detached a Magic Tablet strapped to his calf.
"Dammit, why is there no signal?" Chris muttered, staring at the red "X" on the screen.
Yvette produced her own tablet from somewhere. "I've checked. The only place in the whole villa with a signal is the northeast corner of the garden."
"Then what are we waiting for!"
Chris followed Yvette to the corner of the garden. He had never noticed this unremarkable spot before, but now it seemed like a golden sanctuary.
As they reached the perimeter wall, the signal bars appeared. Chris was about to cheer when the bushes rustled. A dark shadow darted out.
"Internal mole! Abort the trade!" Chris shouted.
"But we already finished the trade!" Yvette shouted back.
Chris squinted. The figure in the black tuxedo was actually a high-ranking executive from his father's company.
If this man told his father that he and Miss Yvette were meeting secretly in the garden, they'd never be able to clear their names.
"I can explain! The lady and I just happened to run into each other, we weren't—oh, what's that?"
Chris stared at the black tablet in the executive's hand.
The executive's face instantly turned a deep shade of crimson, more vibrant than a winter rose.
"I can explain, Master Chris. I just found this on the ground. I would never play magic games behind Mr. Wynn's back—oh, what's that?"
The executive stared with the same look at the identical tablet in Chris's hand.
The wind howled and the snow fell. Fireworks exploded in the night sky, flickering in and out. The three people in the garden stood in silence, staring at one another.
After a long moment, Chris ventured, "Are you here... to play the game too?"
"Y-yes! So Master Chris is one of us too!"
The executive was almost moved to tears. He turned to the bushes and called out, "Everyone come out! It's okay, they're on our side!"
As soon as he spoke, five or six more shadows emerged. There were men and women, employees and business partners, even a few members of Norelia's high nobility. Every face wore the joyful smile of a revolutionary meeting a comrade.
"How are you all..." Chris was speechless.
"Hah, it's because Mr. Wynn hates magic games. We have to sneak out here to play."
The others nodded in agreement.
"We don't want to upset Mr. Wynn, but who can help it if magic games are so much fun?"
"Honestly, a rule banning employees from playing games is just ridiculous!"
"You won't tell Mr. Wynn, will you?"
"Our lips are sealed," Yvette interjected.
"Have you finished downloading Hero's legend 2 yet?" a noblewoman asked warmly. "The download speed is a bit slow, isn't it? Come over here, I found a heating vent! Don't let yourself catch cold, child!"
Chris murmured his thanks and joined the group behind the bushes. It was indeed quite warm there. He exhaled a puff of white vapor, warmed his frozen fingers, and clumsily operated the tablet to download the new game.
As they waited, more people slipped out from the banquet to join them. The "moles" were growing in number.
Some, unable to bear the cold, had smuggled out bottles of wine and plates of food. Someone had even bribed a waiter to bring out everyone's fur coats. Soon, a small party had formed in the corner of the garden. Men and women draped in heavy coats toasted each other, passionately discussing their favorite topic.
Chris watched in amazement. The celebration he had failed to find at the banquet was happening right here. This was definitely the strangest Winter Solstice he had ever experienced.
Suddenly, someone whispered excitedly: "I've got it! It's downloaded!"
Envious sighs and groans immediately rose from the group.
"Damn, I'm only at fifty percent!" "I'm stuck at 99%! Save me!" "I'm warning you—no spoilers!"
Meanwhile, back in the ballroom.
Mr. Wynn called over the butler, looking puzzled. "Have you seen the Bartletts?"
"They said they had too much to drink and went to their guest room to rest."
"What about Mr. Robus?"
"He said he had an upset stomach."
"And the Countess of Minette?"
"She mentioned her skin was looking dull and went for some beauty sleep."
Mr. Wynn looked around. Several of his most important guests were missing. This was very strange.
"It's never been like this before," he whispered to his wife. "Did I somehow offend them? Are they leaving early on purpose?"
Mrs. Wynn sipped her wine leisurely. "How could that be, dear? They're just feeling unwell. After all, we're all getting older." She said with certainty, "Time waits for no one!"