Ashen Dragon

"Woo——"

At the summit of the Dwarf Palace, the horn forged from the shinbones of giant beasts was blown once more, emitting a majestic and prolonged roar.

"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!"

Dwarf messengers, riding goats, swiftly traversed the cliffs to deliver the news to dwarf warriors scattered across the land.

Suddenly, every dwarf who heard the sound of the horn was startled and immediately set out toward the Dwarf Palace.

——It has come at last, the army of the Ashen Empire.

The slumbering dwarf warriors clutching their hammers woke abruptly, spat fiercely, and then adeptly donned the carefully crafted armor they had forged.

Dwarves mining gold in the depths wiped the sweat from their brows, resolutely retracing their steps to join the fray.

The dwarf craftsmen at the forge, tirelessly hammering metal, plunged a red-hot blade into water, which instantly boiled, hissing with crackling sparks...

...

"The Ashen Empire, huh... What an imposing force, no wonder they managed to conquer North Aisier."

Ed gazed at the imperial army marching in endless waves, like an apocalyptic scourge, and couldn't help but sigh in amazement.

Thinking of this, he lowered his head and let out a bitter laugh: "I used to worry that having Zeen withdraw was a mistake, but now it seems... our chances of victory are indeed incredibly slim."

In this life spanning hundreds of years, Ed had never seen an army like this.

Behind him, Bjorn, the veteran dwarf official, walked out unhurriedly and consoled him: "Your Majesty, why worry?

We have made all necessary preparations. Now, all we can do is commit ourselves fully, and as for how things will unfold, we leave that to our descendants."

Ed smiled faintly and said: "Still, I want to see just how far we can go. At the very least... we must let these Evil Dragon Kin know that dwarves are a tough bone to gnaw!"

He pondered for a moment and then asked: "Has the Dwarf Altar managed to connect with the Father God?"

Bjorn shook his head and sighed: "Still no news. It's said that during the last battle at Black Stone Mountain, the Beastman God System launched an assault on our Dwarf Divine, severing all pathways from the Divine Realm to the Material Plane..."

Ed raised his head to look at the sky, his expression turning helpless: "So it seems this time, we can only rely entirely on ourselves."

Famed as the "Master of High Mountains," he clenched the warhammer in his hand, feeling the raging strength within him, his eyes glinting with resolute determination.

Meanwhile, unwittingly, dwarf warriors had already followed the sound of the horn, hastening from Aivendel and all corners of the High Mountain Kingdom, gathering in the plaza dominated by the towering Moradin statues.

The elderly, women, and children had mostly evacuated Aivendel under Prince Zeen's leadership. Those remaining now were the elites of the High Mountain Kingdom, the bravest and most fearless dwarf warriors.

"The army of the Evil Dragons approaches?"

"Where are they? I'll smash every last one of them! Beastman bastards, disturbing my peaceful dreams at this hour."

"Exactly, it's never-ending with them! I was just forging a longsword, and the sound of the horn startled me, ruining the blade entirely!"

The plaza buzzed with noise as dwarves spoke amongst themselves, showing no tension on the brink of battle; instead, they began bickering about trivial matters.

Ed lowered his head, his gaze sweeping over the rugged faces with various expressions, faces adorned with thick beards he knew like the back of his hand—he could even call out each dwarf's name accurately.

These were his subjects, his warriors, and were the ones who could march with him to a glorious death.

Like most dwarves, they were coarse, wild, bold, but possessed hearts as stubborn as rock and as pure as gemstones.

For over a hundred years, he had fulfilled the responsibilities of a king, fighting alongside his people against invaders. Neither Holy Fadlan, the Hill Giant Tribe, nor the Beastman Army had ever caused the dwarves to yield.

And now, Ed was about to lead his people into a battle with almost no hope of victory.

Looking down at the dwarf warriors, Ed remained silent for a long time before solemnly addressing them: "Sons of the mountains and stones, citizens of the High Mountain Kingdom… war has come!"

The Dwarf King raised his warhammer high, pointing toward the horizon—where shadows had already started to gather like ominous clouds.

"Look there, that is our enemy, the Evil Dragon Kin from the North. Months ago, they swiftly crushed North Aisier, and now, they aim to conquer us!

They want to seize our fortresses, trample our homeland, plunder our wealth, and enslave our people. Tell me—will we allow such a thing to happen?"

"No!"

"Smash their heads in!"

"A bunch of beast-born mongrels! Dare to invade our fortresses? I'll give them a good taste of their foolishness!"

The dwarves erupted with indignant war cries, each eager to voice their disdain and contempt for the Empire.

"That's right, we absolutely cannot allow it!"

Ed gazed at the furious faces of the dwarves, pointing at the earth beneath their feet, and said in a solemn tone: "Black Stone Mountain, this is the homeland of Shield Dwarves for thousands of years, the place where generations of our ancestors lived.

We mine ore from these mountains, forge weapons from its veins—the mountains are the greatest treasures of the dwarves. And now, for them, we must... surrender everything we have."