Ashen Dragon

The Dwarf Lady nodded: "Thank you, Your Highness, but... many people want to ask... when will we be able to return to Black Stone Mountain?"

As soon as these words were spoken, the surrounding dwarves crowded closer, beginning to talk over one another.

They had been living in the Volcano Secret Realm for over a month now, and many dwarves could no longer tolerate the stifling heat of the environment.

"Yes, Your Majesty, when will we be able to go home?"

"How long have we been here already?"

"Ugh, my husband, Old Kode, is such a lazy glutton; if it weren't for me, he'd probably starve to death!"

Feeling the eager gazes of the dwarves, Zeen exhaled deeply and solemnly replied: "I've said before, Aivendel is facing a tremendous crisis. Until the war is over, we must stay here.

Don't think about Black Stone Mountain anymore. Until we receive new information, we must treat this volcanic realm as the dwarves' new homeland."

Upon hearing this, the dwarves hung their heads with sighs, their faces laden with disappointment.

Turning resolutely away, Zeen's eyes revealed an unmistakable mix of sorrow and longing. As a Dwarf Prince who grew up in Black Stone Mountain, how could he not yearn for his homeland?

For the past month, that majestic and magnificent fortress had appeared repeatedly in his dreams, keeping him awake at night.

But Zeen knew he carried something far more important on his shoulders—the continuation of the High Mountain Kingdom and the legacy of the Shield Dwarves' glorious civilization.

"Your Highness! Prince Zeen! Lord Titus is here—he said there's an urgent matter to discuss with you!" From afar, a dwarven messenger was waving and shouting.

Zeen's heart tightened immediately, an ominous feeling rising suddenly within him. Beads of sweat began rolling down his cheeks only to evaporate in the fiery heat, turning to steam.

Urgent news—could it be... Aivendel has already fallen?

No, impossible. Zeen shook his head, denying the horrifying speculation.

As long as his father—Ed, the "Master of High Mountains"—was there, not even the strongest of the evil dragons could possibly conquer Aivendel in mere days.

Zeen was well aware of his father's immense strength; even without the Rock Hammer, the Dwarf King still wielded the power to command the mountains, enough to strike terror into any invading enemy.

Yet despite his confidence in Ed, anxiety still gnawed at Zeen's heart.

Forcing himself to remain composed, Zeen strode quickly forward, addressing the panting messenger: "Where is Lord Titus now?"

Running within this half-plane abundant in fire elements evidently wasn't easy; the messenger, drenched in sweat, gasped and replied: "Your Highness, Lord Titus... he's at the summit of Laisande Mountain."

"Understood. I needed to speak with him anyway—I'll save you another trip." Zeen responded.

Laisande Mountain, named after Laisande, the fourth king of the High Mountain Kingdom and a dwarven hero, was two miles north.

Zeen's physique was far stronger than the messenger's. His brisk pace soon brought him to the summit of Laisande Mountain, where he saw a familiar figure.

Covered in shimmering golden scales, with broad wings, a dragon's head exuding both majesty and wisdom, eyes akin to deep golden pools, and a dozen gill tendrils floating gracefully in the air...

—It was none other than "Dawn Wings" Titus, the most steadfast and intimate ally the Shield Dwarves currently had.

However, at this moment, the Ancient Gold Dragon wore an expression of grave sadness.

"Zeen, you've come." Titus said, his voice low and hoarse, as though he were sighing.

The young Dwarf Prince's heart clenched instantly; the ominous feeling deepened. He hurried forward with an anxious tone: "Lord Titus, what is it—what has happened?"

Hearing the dwarf's inquiry, the gold dragon's pale golden eyes betrayed uncontrollable guilt and self-reproach. His voice was heavy as he said: "I'm very sorry, Zeen.

Aivendel... has fallen."

"What?!"

Zeen's pupils quaked; his mouth fell open with a dazed expression. The news struck him like a thunderbolt, shattering his composure.

The Dwarf Prince had rehearsed this moment countless times in his mind but never expected it to arrive so swiftly. Shaking his head repeatedly, he murmured in disbelief: "This... this... how did it happen so fast?"

Suddenly, Zeen seemed to recall something, his tone growing desperate as he asked: "What about my father—Ed? He wouldn't have..."

His voice stuttered and faltered, choking with emotion by the end.

Titus sighed deeply once more, his tone grave as he said: "Ed has sacrificed himself."

Zeen's knees wobbled before giving way entirely, collapsing to the ground as tears streamed from his eyes. The towering figure of his father floated incessantly in his mind.

No matter the time, in front of his father, Zeen was always that frail child.

He clutched the Rock Hammer in his hands, murmuring through trembling lips: "Father... it's my fault. My weakness led him to..."

"No, it's not your fault, Prince Zeen. It is the sin of those ruthless invaders."

The gold dragon raised his head, his majestic visage bathed in the glow of the flames, his golden pool-like eyes filled with reminiscence and reverence.

"As for your father, he was a true hero—a lifelong friend I will never forget. He died honorably on the battlefield, resisting invasion.

History will forever remember his name—Ed Klein, Shield Dwarf King, Master of High Mountains, a warrior who perished defying the tyranny of the evil dragons."

Upon hearing this, Zeen wiped the tears from his face, gripping the Rock Hammer tightly as he rose from the ground. He said: "Lord Titus, I will inherit his will. I will overthrow the tyranny of the evil dragons and reclaim Aivendel."