Ashen Dragon

"Father, your... your body... how is this possible?" Zeen stood frozen in place, his face filled with shock as he stared at his father—the protector of Aivendel and Master of High Mountains for a century.

Ed had undone his armor and outer garments, baring his chest—yet what was revealed was not firm, rock-like muscle, but actual stone: rock mixed with metal ores, mica, and quartz!

"We Shield Dwarves are born of solid stone, so dying in this way isn't so bad," Ed said, looking down at his own body, speaking with a wry self-mockery.

"Father, why? Haven't you recovered already?" Zeen's expression grew tense, his voice urgent.

Ed, however, answered calmly: "Months ago, in that battle, I sacrificed my life to wield the Rock Hammer to slay the Beastman Chief. What you see now is merely me being sustained by it..."

He glanced down at the warhammer in his hand and continued: "Once I part with this hammer, I will slowly transform into a statue and continue to guard Black Stone Mountain and Aivendel.

And you, my child," Ed lifted his head, fixing his gaze on Zeen's eyes as he spoke with resolute power, "You will become the new Master of High Mountains—the new Dwarf King of the Shield Dwarves. You shall inherit our thousands of years of illustrious history and lead our people toward a new future."

With that, Ed strode forward and solemnly placed the Rock Hammer into Zeen's hands.

"Father, you..."

Zeen's hands trembled as he grasped the heavy, ancient warhammer, etched with intricate patterns. Its weight felt heavier than the entire Black Stone Mountain itself.

——Because this was the symbol of the Master of High Mountains' authority, carrying the glory of the High Mountain Kingdom spanning thousands of years, as well as the civilization passed down by the Shield Dwarves through countless generations.

At the moment the hammer left his hand, Ed revealed a contented smile, and in Zeen's eyes, his father's body seemed to resemble stone even more, the aura of "life" upon him growing fainter.

Zeen extended the hammer back and said heavily: "No, Father, I cannot accept this—it will cost you your life!"

Ed firmly shook his head, forcibly pushing the hammer back into his son's hands as he slowly began to speak: "This is my choice. From the moment I offered my life to the Rock Hammer, I was already dead.

Zeen Klein, the future of the High Mountain Kingdom is yours. Carry the hopes of our ancestors and myself forward, and besides... I might not lose just yet."

The Dwarf King grinned broadly, pounding his stone-like chest with boundless boldness: "That evil dragon may not even be my match. Though I've handed the Rock Hammer to you, don't forget—I am still the mightiest warrior of the High Mountain Kingdom!"

"Father..."

Zeen lowered his head and remained silent, having already recognized his father's determination.

He knew his father well. Once Ed made up his mind, he would never easily change course—his will was as unyielding and hard as diamond.

After a long pause, Zeen half-knelt in Ed's direction. Then, raising his head, his eyes met Ed's with unwavering resolve.

He clenched the warhammer tightly, held it to his chest, and announced with a voice like thunder: "Father, in the name of the High Mountain Kingdom, in the name of Father God Moradin, I vow to fulfill everything you have entrusted to me, to my dying breath."

Dwarves are a race known for honoring promises, admired for their courage and loyalty. When they vow in the name of their Father God, it signifies that the promise carries a weight greater than their own lives.

"Hahaha, excellent, this is my son! This is what the Master of High Mountains should be like!" Ed laughed heartily, stepping forward to slap Zeen's back with force.

Zeen replied gravely: "Father, if you die and Aivendel is taken, I will dedicate my life to avenging you."

Ed, however, shook his head. "I am already a man marked by death. To perish on the battlefield alongside my comrades would be something I'd even hope for.

Zeen, your most important duty is to pass on the royal bloodline, to uphold the kingdom's civilization. You must never act recklessly."

Still seeing Zeen quietly lowered his head, Ed had no choice but to add: "Lead our people to the Lonely Mountain. Lord Titus awaits you there."

"Yes, Father."

Watching Zeen's retreating figure, Ed let out a long, deep sigh.

He knew that although his son appeared dispassionate and reserved, in certain ways, he was strikingly similar to himself—especially when it came to never altering decisions once made, with a stubbornness harder than stone.

If the day ever truly arrived, Ed could only hope that Lord Titus would be able to rein them in, preserving the lives of the dwarves. That was his thought.

"Your Majesty, have you finished speaking with Prince Zeen?" Bjorn asked, leaning on his staff as he walked over from the far end of the corridor.

Ed nodded faintly: "Hm, though that boy might not necessarily listen to me, he may well do something foolish."

Bjorn coughed twice, then smiled and said: "Why worry about these things, your Majesty?

Prince Zeen was raised under my watchful eye. At his age, he's far more measured than you were back then. After all, didn't you charge solo into a green dragon's lair at his age to retrieve the kingdom's treasures?"

"Of course! Back then, I was known as the High Mountain Kingdom's greatest warrior!" Ed laughed heartily, instinctively reaching for his waist, only to grasp at air—a sensation that left him hollow inside, for the Rock Hammer was now carried away by Zeen.