Chapter 661: Turbulent World, Mourning Golden Dragon
After the earth-shattering "War of Gods" ended, the imperial elites led by Dolo quickly moved into Avenderdan, seizing the dwarves' crystallization of millennia of wisdom and sweat.
Upon hearing that the Ember Empire had struck again with overwhelming force and destroyed the Highland Kingdom in a flash, the entire Fienso Continent was once again in an uproar, with people staring in shock and panicking.
Avenderdan, the shared home of the Shield Dwarves that had stood unconquered for thousands of years, had fallen so easily into the hands of evil dragons!
The surrounding powers trembled in fear, nerves stretched to the limit. Many nations expressed intentions to form military alliances, hoping to huddle together for warmth and resist these "barbarians" from the frozen wastelands.
After settling into Avenderdan, the Empire's patrol units launched a sweeping search of the city, uncovering over a hundred hidden dwarves. Half of them died in fierce resistance, while the remaining half defected to the Empire.
Unfortunately, the "Lord of the Highlands" Edd was exceptionally resolute, as if determined to go down with the ship. Before the war even began, he smashed the city's intricate machinery and emptied the Lonely Mountain Treasury, driving Dolo into a fury.
But to their surprise, due to the descent of Dumathoin, who held the divine office of "Earth's Hidden Treasures," rich veins of gold, silver, copper, and gems appeared in the surrounding mountains. After surveys by technicians, the reserves within a hundred miles rivaled those of the entire Anzeta Wasteland.
In just a few days, Avenderdan, which was nearly a ghost town, became bustling with activity.
Upon hearing of the mineral riches, mine owners and merchants from within the Empire swarmed in like piranhas drawn by the scent of blood, flooding the city with investments and endless engineering projects.
Some even hired three hundred tireless Fire Dwarf miners—more accurately, slave labor—from colonies in the Fire Elemental Plane, aiming to contract mining rights for the region.
Meanwhile, as per the Empire's original plan, in addition to Dolo's tens of thousands of elites, more imperial troops were dispatched, and hundreds of thousands of players received summoning quests and flocked to the area.
Under Smaug's call, over five hundred bipedal wyverns from North Aether flew in swarms, casting dark shadows as they descended upon Avenderdan. The deep mines became their natural nests.
Smaug, with his thirty-two mates, swaggered into the Lonely Mountain Treasury, becoming the true "King Beneath the Mountain"—though the mountain now lay empty, not piled with gold and silver.
It's said that miners nearby often hear the exuberant screeches of wyverns echoing from the Treasury—His Highness Smaug tirelessly toiling to strengthen the Empire's dragonflight day and night.
At Cassius's command, the name of Avenderdan was changed to "City of Wyverns." The dwarf statues in the Path of Glory were replaced by statues of Cassius and the noble dragon-blooded.
In the near future, Avenderdan—or rather, the City of Wyverns—would become the Empire's military stronghold in northeastern Fienso, and a paradise for prospectors, merchants, and sub-dragons.
But to Cassius, the most pressing task now was to eliminate the hidden threat in the north—the orcs.
Cassius was well aware of the horror of those spore-skinned greenskins. Compared to the former nomadic brutes, today's orcs were more like a biological virus. In other words: as long as the orcs remained, the North would never know peace.
"Dang!"
"Clang clang go the hammers, the mine runs deep and long!"
"Dang! Dang dang!"
Crisp hammering echoed rhythmically, and dwarven songs resounded through the mountains.
"Deep in the mine it sparkles bright, treasures lie ahead in sight!"
Pickaxe swing, hammer shine, mining is a joyful rhyme!
No fear of pain, no dread of toil, fill the sacks with gems and gold!
The dwarves sang with passion, turning the scorched land even hotter with their spirit. Zain's beard-covered mouth curled upward in a rare smile.
This mountain was dotted with dwarf-dug tunnels, scaffolding and platforms. Crude stone houses surrounded them. A budding city had taken shape.
Watching the hard-working, sweat-drenched dwarves, Zain grew emotional. Images of his grand homeland, the majestic fortress of Avenderdan, kept surfacing in his mind.
Back in the day, their ancestors must have carved out their home just like this, building up Avenderdan step by step—so he thought.
A dwarf matron spotted the visiting prince and beamed with delight, waving her pickaxe, "Prince Zain, you've come too!"
Zain nodded, "I had some free time, thought I'd come see how things are going. How's the work here?"
The dwarf matron grinned, "It's great! No wonder Lord Titus picked this place. It's a treasure trove! Gold and gems everywhere—we can barely keep up!"
She wiped the sweat from her beard, hesitated a moment, then muttered, "It's just a bit too hot here. Quite a few folks got heatstroke lately. My neighbor Kent nearly cooked alive."
Zain frowned, replying seriously, "Understood. I'll speak to Lord Titus immediately. We'll buy some heat-resistance potions."
The dwarf matron nodded, "Thank you, Your Highness. But, a lot of people are wondering... when can we return to Blackstone Mountain?"
Hearing this, the nearby dwarves gathered around and began discussing all at once.
They'd been living in the volcanic zone for over a month now, and many couldn't take the sweltering heat anymore.
"Yeah, Your Majesty, when can we go home?"
"How long have we been here already?"
"Ugh, my husband Old Cord is a lazy glutton. Without me, he'd starve to death!"
Feeling their eager gazes, Zain sighed deeply and answered solemnly, "I told you, Avenderdan is facing a great crisis. Until the war ends, we must remain here.
Stop thinking about Blackstone Mountain. Until new orders come, we must treat this volcano as the new home of the dwarves."
The dwarves lowered their heads in disappointment, sighing.
Zain turned firmly, though his eyes showed sorrow and longing. As a dwarf prince raised in Blackstone Mountain, how could he not miss his homeland?
For the past month, the grand fortress had haunted his dreams, making sleep elusive.
But Zain knew his burden was greater now—to carry on the Highland Kingdom, to preserve the legacy of the Shield Dwarves.
"Your Highness! Prince Zain! Lord Titus is here—he says it's urgent!" a dwarf herald called out from afar.
Zain's heart tightened. A bad feeling rose. Beads of sweat rolled down his cheeks, only to evaporate in the heat, becoming mist.
Urgent news—could it be that Avenderdan has fallen?
No, impossible, Zain shook his head, denying the terrible thought.
As long as his father—the "Lord of the Highlands" Edd—was there, no evil dragon, no matter how powerful, could take Avenderdan in mere days.
Zain knew his father's strength well. Even without the Hammer of Rock, the Dwarf King still had the power to command the mountains, to make any invader tremble.
Yet despite his faith in Edd, Zain still felt panic.
Zain forced himself to stay calm and asked the panting herald, "Where is Lord Titus?"
Running in a fire-elemental demi-plane was no easy task. The herald, drenched in sweat, gasped, "Your, Your Highness... Lord Titus is at the top of Mount Lysander."
"Got it. I need to speak with him too—saves you another trip," Zain replied.
Mount Lysander, named after the fourth king of the Highland Kingdom, dwarf hero Lysander, lay two miles north.
Zain, far sturdier than the herald, sprinted swiftly to the mountaintop, where he saw a familiar figure.
Scales gleamed gold, wings spread wide, the dragon's noble head radiated wisdom and majesty. Eyes like golden pools, gill whiskers danced mid-air—
—It was none other than "Wing of Dawn" Titus, now the Shield Dwarves' closest and staunchest ally.
But at this moment, the ancient gold dragon's face was grave, eyes filled with sorrow.
"Zain, you've come," said Titus, his voice low and hoarse, like a sigh.
The young dwarf prince felt a stronger sense of foreboding. He hurried forward, asking anxiously, "Lord Titus, what's wrong—what happened?"
Hearing the question, the golden dragon's pale eyes revealed uncontainable guilt and remorse. He said heavily, "I'm sorry, Zain.
Avenderdan... has fallen."
"What?!"
Zain's pupils dilated, his mouth opened in disbelief. The words thundered through his heart like a lightning strike.
He had rehearsed this moment countless times in his mind, yet he never imagined it would come so soon. He kept shaking his head, murmuring, "This... this fast, how can it be?!"
Suddenly, a thought struck Zain. He asked urgently, "Then what about my father? Edd? He... he wouldn't—"
His voice cracked, choked by grief.
Titus sighed again and solemnly said, "Edd has fallen."
Zain's knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground, tears flooding his eyes, his mind consumed by the image of that towering figure.
No matter when, before his father, Zain was always that frail child.
He gripped the Hammer of Rock tightly and mumbled, "Father... it was me... I brought this on him. My cowardice..."
"No, it's not your fault, Prince Zain. This is the sin of those savage invaders."
The golden dragon lifted his head. The firelight reflected off his dignified face. In his golden pool-like eyes shimmered remembrance and respect.
"Your father was a true hero, my unforgettable friend. He died with honor on the battlefield resisting invasion.
History will forever remember his name—Edd Kline, King of the Shield Dwarves, Lord of the Highlands, warrior who perished defying the tyranny of the evil dragons."
At this, Zain wiped his face, gripped the Hammer of Rock, and stood up. "Lord Titus, I will inherit his will, overthrow the dragon's tyranny, and reclaim Avenderdan."
"Hearing that brings me comfort. I believe King Edd would be proud of you. But not yet—the dragon and his minions are too strong. Our strength... is not enough." said the ancient gold dragon.
Zain looked into the distance, "I know, Lord Titus. But one day, evil will be defeated by justice. Darkness will be banished by light, right?"
"Of course."
Titus smiled kindly, then turned and looked at the dwarf prince with wise golden eyes. "Prince Zain, before departing, King Edd entrusted me with something to give you at the right moment."
The ancient gold dragon reached out with a massive claw, pulling an item from the void—a golden crown, embedded with gems, radiating the rich dignity of dwarven craftsmanship.
"This is..."
Zain's eyes lit up. He quickly recognized its origin.
—It was the Crown of the Mountains. Only a king recognized by all Shield Dwarves could wear it and be crowned the true Lord of the Highlands.
Titus picked up the crown and solemnly said, "To wear the crown is to bear its weight. I believe you are now worthy."
Zain, overwhelmed with emotion, looked at the laboring dwarves, at the budding city, and at the towering figure in his heart.
He knew he now had to shoulder the responsibility of the Lord of the Highlands and lead his people toward a glorious future.
"Lord of the Highlands!"
"Long live King Zain!"
Shouts rose from below. Zain turned, startled, and saw the elderly, weak, and sick dwarves crying and cheering, encouraging their prince.
—Turns out, the earlier conversation had been amplified by Titus and echoed through every corner of the volcanic sanctuary.
All the dwarves now knew Edd had died, and Prince Zain would bear the mantle of the Lord of the Highlands as their new king.
Titus laughed, "See? No need to worry, young king. Your future subjects already accept you."
Hearing the encouragement, a warm current surged through Zain's heart. His sense of duty deepened.
Zain stepped forward firmly and lowered his head.
Titus carefully placed the crown upon him and said gently, "Congratulations, Prince Zain—no, King Zain."
"Lord Titus, thank you for your trust.
I swear—I will lead the Shield Dwarves toward a brighter future. One day, I will reclaim Avenderdan and avenge my father," Zain declared resolutely.
This was a vow to his people—and to himself.
His expression was steely. In his brow and eyes now shimmered the essence of Edd, the former Lord of the Highlands—now, the revival of the Shield Dwarves rested fully on his shoulders.
"King Zain!"
"Lord of the Highlands, Zain!"
"Take back Avenderdan! Restore dwarven glory!"
"Yes, we must avenge King Edd!"
The dwarves cheered louder, waving their hammers and picks. Though they mourned Edd's death, they showered Zain with support and encouragement.
Titus stood aside, smiling warmly at the young king, clapping with his claws. The ancient gold dragon's face was filled with nostalgia, tears flowing down his cheeks. "He looks just like him..."
Just like an old man satisfied to see the child of a dear friend grow into greatness.
—One can only say that Cassius's acting had reached the realm of perfection, a true masterpiece.