I Guess That's What I'll Have to Do (3)
The other mercenaries couldn't use the metal rods.
It was because they couldn't withstand the magical recoil transmitted through the rods.
"Hurry!"
Yulian gritted his teeth and received a new metal rod from his comrade.
He extended the rod once more, blocking the monsters' advance.
Kwaaaang!
They couldn't hold out for long. Only a few metal rods were left.
And the more he used them, the more Yulian's speed was faltering.
Yulian shouted toward the dwarves.
"Head to the royal citadel immediately! All the dwarf warriors will be gathering there! If you fight here, you'll just end up dead!"
"B-but…"
"It's the king's order! The king himself sent us!"
Yulian lied on purpose. Now was a time for action, not truth.
Fortunately, the dwarves understood what Yulian was really saying — that fighting here would be a pointless death.
"You all heard him! We're heading to the citadel!"
"Gather all the warriors and residents in the settlements along the way! We must unite and fight near the citadel!"
"Don't worry! You get out too!"
They immediately changed direction.
This place was the outermost settlement among the dwarven territories. If these dwarves could persuade those in other areas, they would move faster.
Kwaang! Kwaang! KWAANG!
Yulian stayed behind with the mercenaries, continuing to block the enemy's advance.
Currently, powerful 7th-circle lightning magic was pouring out from the metal rods.
Ghislain too, through a mana condensation array, unleashed the silver mana he had gathered over the past few days without holding back.
But the limits of the metal rods were clear. Yulian and the mercenaries slowly retreated, conserving their magic.
Their goal wasn't victory — it was buying as much time as possible.
A priest of the Salvation Church glared with eyes burning in rage.
"These bastards…"
Their plan had been simple — ambush from the outskirts to reduce the number of dwarf warriors.
But the plan had gone awry from the start. Unknown individuals had appeared and rained down powerful magic, halting the advance.
They hadn't even killed many dwarves. Most had fled before they could even approach.
Despite chasing hard, they were blocked time and again by sudden bursts of magic.
The priest ground his teeth in frustration. If not for those people, the dwarves in this region would already be wiped out.
However, the priest quickly calmed himself.
"It's fine. This wasn't the only place we targeted."
Simultaneous ambushes were already underway across Valskrum. This was just one of them.
Although they hadn't inflicted major damage, chaos had already begun.
"Now that we've entered Valskrum, victory will be ours in the end."
Even if the dwarves gathered, it would be useless. All they would do is prolong their resistance.
After all, there were not one, but two prophets here.
The priest, along with the dark mages, resumed their advance. Their ultimate destination was the royal citadel anyway.
Kuung! Kuung! Kuung!
Within the black smoke, countless undead and chimeras roared and surged forward.
***
"They're damn persistent."
The ruler of Valskrum, the Guardian of the Iron Fortress, the Wielder of the Thunder Axe, the Master of the Twelve Forges, the Father of Hammers and Warriors.
With all these titles, he is the great king of the dwarves — Grondal.
He leaned back on his throne, sipping from his cup with a thoroughly irritated expression.
He'd heard that a delegation from the Pope had arrived. He even knew why they had come.
That's why he didn't meet them. No matter how many days they requested an audience, he refused.
By now, they should've taken the hint and left, but instead, they had rented out an entire lodging to stay in.
"Were humans always this dense? I thought they were supposed to be quick-witted."
At his words, the other dwarves burst into laughter.
"From their perspective, going back empty-handed would be hard."
"If they return without results, the Pope might kill them, right? Weren't they mercenaries?"
"If they're mercenaries, even easier to kill! Looks like the Pope just grabbed some random guys for the job!"
"Humans are always killing each other over their so-called authority! Puahahaha!"
The dwarves chatted noisily.
Unlike humans, they spoke and laughed freely even in the presence of their king.
That was how dwarves were. They acknowledged the authority of their king, but didn't bow their heads in servility.
Pride was the cornerstone of how dwarves lived.
Unlike elves, they had adopted the concept of a monarchy from human systems — just enough to establish order and enable development and expansion.
As the raucous laughter continued, Grondal let out a chuckle.
"What was it they said? That the Salvation Church and dark mages would attack this place?"
"Yes, they said even without a meeting, we should summon all warriors and maintain battle readiness."
"Humans, seriously. Always thinking they're something special and meddling everywhere. That's why they're always at war with each other."
Other dwarves chimed in agreement.
"What do they take Valskrum for, saying crap like that? A human dares to worry about Valskrum?"
"They didn't even bring a proper army from the Demon Realm — how do they plan to take this city?"
"Won't the Salvation Church guys collapse halfway up the mountain?"
"Wahahaha! True, this mountain range is way too rough for weaklings like them!"
The dwarves laughed boisterously, ridiculing the Salvation Church and Yulian Mercenary Corps.
And it wasn't without reason. They held immense pride and confidence in Valskrum.
They were still laughing and drinking when a dwarf burst through the door roughly, almost breaking it down.
Grondal let out a burp and spoke.
"Urp, what's this? Let's try to have some manners, eh?"
Still buzzed from the drink, Grondal paused mid-sentence. The dwarf who had entered was a mess — filthy beyond belief.
"What? What is it?"
"A-a raid!"
"…A what?"
"A raid! A raid! The Salvation Church bastards actually broke through the fortress!"
Grondal instantly sobered up. He blinked and asked,
"What are you talking about?"
"D-dark mages and high priests of the Salvation Church have launched attacks all over! Chimeras and undead are pouring in from the sky, and a giant sand worm burst through the ground! Monsters are surging in through the hole!"
Grondal's eyes widened in disbelief at the report. The six dwarves beside him looked equally stunned.
They had prepared well for airborne assaults — even if thousands of monsters came, they could defend. But to be breached despite that?
Even more unbelievable was the part about breaking through the ground. How had they pierced such solid bedrock?
But there was no time to argue now. Judging by the expression of the reporting dwarf, the situation was dire.
"Those bastards… how dare they…"
Grondal gritted his teeth and grabbed the weapon beside him.
It was a massive halberd, far bigger than his own body. He dragged it outside.
Outside the citadel was chaos. Confused dwarves from all districts were gathering, unsure what was going on.
No one had imagined Valskrum would ever be attacked.
Grondal looked at them all, then slammed his halberd into the ground.
KUUUUUUUNG!
A massive wave of energy rippled out. All the dwarves' eyes turned to Grondal.
With a fierce expression, he shouted loudly.
"Snap out of it! If the enemy's in, then fight! What's the problem?!"
At his words, the dwarves gradually regained their composure. That's right — all they had to do was fight.
Soon, everyone began grabbing their weapons with determined faces.
Grondal barked orders quickly.
"Send the word! Gather every warrior! Evacuate the elderly and children from the settlements immediately!"
All dwarves were warriors. If they gathered, their power would be immense.
Grondal believed that firmly. But the news that followed was not good.
"The outer settlements are already under attack!"
"They've ambushed us from all directions!"
"We need to send reinforcements now!"
Grondal's eyes twitched. His mind was racing.
'Those bastards… are they aiming to defeat us in detail?'
Defeating enemies in detail wasn't easy. If you lacked forces, you could end up on the losing end. But if they still split up like that…
'They must have high priests — superhumans — among them!'
If chimeras and undead were pouring in, then multiple dark mages were definitely involved.
And if superhumans were among them, they were bound to suffer heavy casualties.
Dwarves in settlements that hadn't yet received word would fight without knowing the enemy's strength — and die.
"I'll send reinforcements at once…"
Grondal stopped mid-sentence. What if even this response was part of the enemy's plan?
To help the besieged settlements, their warriors would have to split up.
And if a truly powerful force struck here in that state…
If he were to die, the entire dwarven race could be wiped out. The Eternal Furnace and the Guardian Stone could fall into enemy hands or be destroyed.
Realizing the gravity of the situation, Grondal opened his eyes wide and said—
"All warriors will remain here! Send only a few to the settlements to spread the word — tell them to gather here, immediately!"
They couldn't afford to dance to the enemy's tune. Doing so would only lead to eventual defeat.
Several dwarves nodded grimly. They too had grasped the severity of the situation.
In the end, most of the outer settlements would be destroyed, and countless dwarves would die.
But there was no other choice. Even if they were sacrificed, the dwarven warriors in the inner regions had to gather here.
Grondal pressed his forehead, and quietly closed his eyes.
"…I underestimated those humans far too much."
Yulian Mercenary Corps had clearly warned them. The Salvation Church would invade.
Yet he, and all the dwarves here, had ignored that warning.
Now, he regretted it bitterly. He should've at least met them and heard them out.
Even if everyone else dismissed them, he should not have.
A king was supposed to oversee all things from above.
In the end, it was dwarven arrogance that had led to this disaster.
KWOONG!
Grondal's halberd struck the earth once more.
He slowly opened his eyes and muttered,
"I'll pay for my mistake, with my own blood."
Even if it cost him his life, he would protect this fortress and save his kin. That was his final duty as king.
Radiating fierce energy, Grondal turned to the dwarf beside him and spoke.
"Bring me Yulian Mercenary Corps. With respect."
They might have already fled. Even so, if by chance they remained, he had to apologize for ignoring their warning.
And if it looked like Valskrum would fall… then he intended to entrust them with the Guardian Stone and help them escape.
It was better than letting the Guardian Stone fall into the hands of the Salvation Church or be destroyed.
But before that thought could even settle—
"UWAAAAAAAHHH!"
The dwarves gathered at the citadel erupted in cheers.
Beyond the gates, dwarves were pouring in from multiple directions of Valskrum.
Grondal looked confused. The dwarves from other settlements had gathered too quickly.
"W-what's going on? Has the news already spread? How?"
It made no sense. There was no way they could have understood the situation and moved this fast.
The dwarves pouring in from every direction began shouting loudly.
"The Shield of Durankaz! Volum is here!"
"The Iron Hammer of Brunarn! Kordin is here!"
"We've all come, called by our king, to fight the enemy!"
The number of dwarf warriors kept increasing. Each shouted their home region as they raised their weapons.
To those who looked confused, they shouted again.
"The Yulian Mercenary Corps told us!"
"They're holding the enemy back right now and buying us time!"
"They said this! Gather here! Fight the enemy with the king!"
Grondal felt as though a hammer had struck him in the chest.
He had ignored the Yulian Mercenary Corps. Yet they had not given up — they had bought them time.
He was ashamed. He had looked down on them, drunk on arrogance. He truly had no eye for people.
Suddenly, Grondal began to laugh heartily.
"Hahahahaha! Yes! Amazing! Truly, what amazing people! The Pope had every reason to trust them!"
It was truly incredible. A mere mercenary band had accomplished such a feat.
He didn't yet know exactly how they were holding the enemy back. What mattered was that they had. What mattered was that they had brought hope.
Of course, not all the settlements were represented. From a glance, he could tell that dwarves from some directions were noticeably fewer. Only those from settlements near the citadel had made it.
The Yulian Mercenary Corps couldn't have covered every direction. Those few in number had likely either been wiped out already, or were still fighting.
There was nothing to be done. Even this much of a gathering was a miracle.
'What we must do now… is not let this chance go to waste.'
Grondal shouted with a booming voice.
"Listen, all of you! The enemy is converging on this place! Today, on this land, the final battlefield shall be drawn!"
The warriors held their breath and turned to Grondal.
KWOONG!
Grondal struck the ground with his halberd once more.
"Even if we all die, we must annihilate the invaders here! The Demon Realm has already surged forth! But if we buy time with our blood! Our brothers in other lands can finish their preparations to fight the Demon Realm!"
GOOOOOOOOOO...…..
KWOONG! KWOONG! KWOONG!
In the distance, the enemy horde came into view. They crushed everything in their path as they advanced.
Flames rose from every direction, smoke covering the skies.
Grondal shouted, as if coughing up blood.
"Fire is rising! Steel shall be forged in flame!"
At his cry, the dwarves roared in unison.
"Steel is tempered in flame!"
"Today is not the day of our death!"
"We shall be reforged again!"
A dwarf blacksmith, lifting a massive hammer, brought it down hard on the anvil at the center of the fortress.
KAAANG!
That sound was the signal.
The dwarves took their positions, forming a defensive line and marching forward slowly.
KAAANG! KAAANG! KAAANG!
KWOONG! KWOONG! KWOONG!
They stomped their feet in rhythm with the hammer strikes of the forge. With each step, it was as if all of Valskrum answered their call.
Flames roared all around, but the dwarves' eyes burned even hotter.
Grondal looked at them with pride. These warriors, gathered here, would lay down their lives and crush the enemy.
Standing tall and imposing, he raised his head.
SSAAAAHHK…
A chill darkness was gathering. A darkness that had arrived faster than any other enemy.
It spread like a pale mist, emanating an overwhelming presence.
The moment Grondal saw the darkness, he knew.
No other warrior could face that thing. Only he could confront that darkness here.
"I'll be the one to kill you, you son of a bitch."
DRRRRK!
Grondal gripped his halberd tightly. As he summoned his strength, the ground trembled.
FWAAAASH!
The darkness soon took full form. What appeared was a middle-aged man in a black robe, exuding a powerful aura.
A prophet of the Salvation Church — Tagmah.
As he stretched out his hand, intense darkness surged toward Grondal.
At the same time, Grondal soared into the sky.
His massive halberd swung down in a single arc, cleaving through the darkness.
KWAHHHHHHHHNG!
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