In Evindeldan, the dwarves finally broke free from the joyful atmosphere of victory and began quietly clearing the battlefield, gathering the remains of their fallen kin.
Blackened scorch marks and mottled bloodstains covered the ramparts, while below the walls lay vast pools of solidified metal.
More than a thousand dwarven warriors had fallen heroically in the battle. Even in death, they had not stopped fighting the orcs to defend their shared homeland.
An elderly dwarf lifted a corpse that still held a stance of fierce combat, gently caressing the cheek to close the wide, furious eyes.
“Rest easy, child. Evindeldan has not fallen.
May you... find eternal life in Moradin's realm.”
By the end, his voice choked with emotion. Faced with the loss of loved ones, even dwarves, typically bold and rugged, could not hold back their grief.
Another dwarf stepped forward and patted his shoulder. “He will, Karl.
These fallen kin are heroes of our dwarven race. The gods of the Morndinsamman will not treat them poorly.
Our heroes will live carefree lives on Mount Celestia, forging the finest armor and weapons for the All-Father.”
The dwarf called Karl nodded heavily, his gaze growing increasingly resolute.
“I will follow His Majesty to defend Evindeldan and drive the orcs back to the north. Only then can we bring peace to their spirits.”
“Aye. The orc offensive is far from over. Now is no time for sorrow.”
When all was said and done, the shield dwarves of the Mountain Kingdom had merely weathered the orcs' first assault.
The massive army of hundreds of thousands of orcs besieging Evindeldan hung over the dwarves' hearts like a dark cloud that refused to scatter.
...
“What a brutal battle...
Fortunately, we held Evindeldan in the end and preserved the honor of the Mountain Kingdom.”
Standing atop the towering ramparts and overlooking the scorched ruins below, King Ed could not help but let out a long sigh.
Even a century ago when the armies of Holy Fadlan invaded, he had not been so tense. After all, this time the orcs had held nothing back, emptying their ranks entirely.
Moreover, as enemies of tens of thousands of years, their blood feud could never be washed away. There was no room for reconciliation between dwarves and orcs—only death.
Bjorn appeared at Ed's side, lingering relief etched on his face. “Your Majesty, we must give thanks to our unfamiliar guest.”
Ed said from the bottom of his heart, “Aye. Without that gold dragon, Evindeldan would likely have been lost today.
Still... Bjorn, do you not recognize him?”
Bjorn shook his head. “A gold dragon of such size must be at least an ancient dragon. They rarely appear on the Feanso Continent.
He is very likely a reinforcement from Mount Celestia—a champion of justice devoted to Lord Bahamut.”
Ed raised his head toward the sky. The gold dragon was still wheeling high above, seemingly observing the movements of the orc host.
With that, the dwarven king waved toward the heavens and called out loudly:
“Mighty and noble gold dragon! You are the benefactor of our Mountain Kingdom, and indeed of the entire dwarven race!
I am the King of the Shield Dwarves. Please, descend to Evindeldan and grant me an audience—”
*Roar—*
High above, the gold dragon seemed to hear the dwarf's shout and let out a resonant roar.
Then, flapping his undulating, rippling wings as though swimming through the air, the gold dragon circled gracefully above the ramparts and slowly descended.
Many scholars agreed that gold dragons were the most graceful fliers of all true dragons, an opinion the gold dragons themselves wholeheartedly endorsed.
The shadow cast by the great dragon swept across the battlements, engulfing countless dwarves.
“Moradin above...”
“By the gods...”
Faced with such a behemoth, even knowing he was an ally, the dwarven warriors could not help feeling nervous. They swallowed hard and tightened their grips on their crossbows.
*Boom!*
His massive body, over thirty meters in length, stepped onto the sturdy gatehouse with a booming thud, yet his posture appeared remarkably light.
—The gold dragon had been as cautious as possible, virtually treading on tiptoe, but he still crushed the stone beneath his talons.
Countless eyes filled with shock, awe, and even reverence looked up at this magnificent, colossal dragon, which resembled an opulent golden sculpture.
Ed also looked up in astonishment at the unfamiliar guest.
The gold dragon folded his broad wings—which extended all the way to his tail—across his back like a giant golden moth.
His pupils resembled pools of molten gold, and over a dozen long, slender barbels floated around his muzzle.
—This lent him a wise, mature appearance, overflowing with the dignified opulence unique to gold dragons.
He was indeed a gold dragon, and an elder among them—very likely an exalted ancient dragon.
The same thought struck both Ed and Bjorn at once.
As high-ranking rulers of the Mountain Kingdom, they had visited Mount Celestia before and seen those massive, majestic metallic dragons.
And as the acknowledged leaders of the metallic dragons, gold dragons with their golden scales and barbels were undeniably the most unique and dazzling among them.
The gold dragon glanced around before fixing his gaze upon the dwarven king.
In the eyes of a proud dragon, only a dwarven legend was barely worthy of acquaintance.
Ed hastily lowered his head and bowed deeply. “Kind gold dragon, pray forgive my lack of decorum, but your magnificent presence leaves me in awe.
That our Mountain Kingdom could withstand the orcs' assault is entirely thanks to your aid. We shield dwarves will never forget your kindness.”
He took a deep breath, then spoke with solemn gratitude, “I am Ed Klein, King of Blackrock Mountain, descendant of Dumathoin, follower of Moradin.
Might I... know your noble name?”
“Titus.”
Looking down upon the dwarf, the gold dragon spoke slowly. His voice was rich and magnetic, gentle yet deep.
“You may call me Titus. As for my identity... I am merely a passing gold dragon.
I simply could not stomach the crude, savage deeds of the orcs, so I lent you a modest hand.”
Ed laughed heartily. “Lord Titus, you did far more than lend a modest hand—you shifted the entire course of this war!
Had you not stepped forward in righteous valor, it is doubtful whether Evindeldan could have held against the orcs' fierce assault.
Rest assured, as a reward, our Mountain Kingdom will present you with our most precious treasures. When it comes to forging crafts and jewelry, we dwarves take great pride in our skill.”
The dwarven king was quite experienced in dealing with metallic dragons; he had once fought side by side with the silver dragons of Clan Melvold.
The most crucial rule was this: even if a metallic dragon claimed not to care, one must never forget to offer ample material compensation, lest they harbor resentment.
Holding grudges and hoarding wealth were traits shared by nearly all dragons, and even good and righteous metallic dragons were rarely exempt.
“Lord Ed.”
The gold dragon turned his head toward the distance. His eyes, pools of molten gold, narrowed slightly, glinting with a subtle gleam.
“Rewards can be discussed later; that is unimportant. You must realize that your war is far from over.
The assault just now was likely a mere probing strike. The orc army numbers over two hundred thousand, with no shortage of powerhouses capable of contending with you and me.”
“Two hundred thousand?”
“Yes. And according to my observations, even more orcs across the Ugo Steppe are mobilizing toward the south.”
Ed's heart jolted.
The size of the orc army already far exceeded the total population of the Mountain Kingdom. If things continued like this, the fall of Evindeldan would become virtually inevitable.
Noticing the dwarf's shift in mood, the gold dragon arched an eyebrow. “Are you afraid?”
The dwarven king let out a deep sigh and gave a wry smile. “Of course I am afraid. Who wouldn't be?
Still... I do not fear the orc horde itself. I fear my subjects being reduced to slaves; I fear Evindeldan, the very symbol of dwarven glory, falling into ruin.”
Ed raised his head, his expression turning solemn and his tone resolute once more. “Lord Titus, thank you once again for your righteousness and understanding.
The Mountain Kingdom is the ancestral legacy of our dwarven race. Even if the enemy were ten times more numerous, we would never yield.”
“Very well.”
Folding his wings, the gold dragon strolled lithely along the high ramparts, inspecting the dwarven defenders.
“Dwarves, I see your resolve and your will to resist this invasion. The orc horde is formidable, but not invincible. I shall remain in Evindeldan to aid you until...
victory is won.”
Ed solemnly pressed his warhammer to his chest, his voice brimming with gratitude. “On behalf of all the people of the Mountain Kingdom, I offer you my highest respect, great Lord Titus.
From this moment forth, you are our friend for all eternity. My power has its limits, but wherever you may walk in Feanso, the dwarves will do everything in our power to assist you.”
Unlike the reserved elves, dwarves were straightforward in their loves and hates, favoring plain-spoken honesty, and their king was no exception.
In the dwarven king's heart, this mysterious and powerful gold dragon was now a steadfast ally of the Mountain Kingdom.
Though he knew nothing of this 'Lord Titus's' origins, this was an exalted gold dragon!
Gold dragons were the symbols of justice and order, devout followers of Bahamut, and leaders of the metallic dragons. Who could ever question such a being?
Yet at that moment, the gold dragon was thoroughly amused. Rather than 'Titus,' his true name was Cassius Claubau Norixius.
Indeed, this gold dragon was none other than the Cinder Emperor—or more precisely, a dragon shadow avatar carrying the Emperor's will.
At this very moment, his true body was still atop Dragonblood Mountain within the Empire, refining the bloodline of Garyx.
After departing the Great Anzetta Wasteland, Cassius had utilized his Ancient Dragon Form ability to transform into an ancient gold dragon.
Then, armed with his foreknowledge of the plot, he had intervened at the critical juncture of the battle that would later become renowned as the Battle of Blackrock Mountain, helping the dwarves claim victory.
In truth, even if Cassius's gold dragon avatar had not intervened, King Ed, the 'Lord of the Mountains,' would have broken free of his bonds, relied on relics left behind by the Morndinsamman to repel the orc onslaught, and fought to the death to hold Evindeldan.
Yet Cassius had turned a mere topping on the cake into timely salvation in the hour of dire need, making the appearance and aid of 'Titus the Gold Dragon' an indispensable element of the dwarves' triumph.
*Heh... Dwarves, since I saved your kingdom and you are so grateful, pay me back with the entire Blackstone Mountains.
In the near future, my empire will collect its rightful payment from you.*
Watching the dwarves' expressions of tearful gratitude, Titus—or rather, Cassius—laughed silently to himself.
Just then, Ed asked worriedly, “Lord Titus, might you be able to contact Lord Bahamut on Mount Celestia...?”
“Tsk. As I am now, I am no longer worthy to stand before Lord Bahamut. I do not even have the face to look upon my own kin.
All I can do now is exert all my strength to walk the righteous path of Bahamut, barely atoning for my sins...”
Titus slowly shook his head, gazing into the azure sky as he spoke in a low voice.
Hearing the gold dragon's enigmatic, riddling response, Ed sensed something amiss and immediately thought of the many tales throughout history of those who defied deities and suffered punishment.
The dwarven king hurriedly bowed his head. “My apologies, Lord Titus. I had no intention of prying into your past, and certainly meant no offense.”
“I know.”
“It is just that... our strength right now is far too meager. With only the warriors of Evindeldan, I fear we cannot stand against an army of hundreds of thousands of orcs.”
The gold dragon turned toward the ruins beneath the walls, his long barbels drifting elegantly in the air.
“It matters not, Lord Ed. If my memory serves me well, the time is almost here.”
“What time?” The dwarven king looked puzzled.
The corners of the dragon's mouth curled upward, a meaningful smile gracing his wise face. “The time for the Mountain Kingdom's allies to arrive in Evindeldan.”
According to the plot, upon receiving the letter, the Elven Queen had disregarded the objections of the Council of Elders and immediately dispatched her personal guard to Evindeldan to assist the dwarves in turning back the orcs' southward advance.
And among the reinforcements she dispatched was that renowned legendary paladin, the Twilight Blade—Rhea Nero.
*Heh, quite an old acquaintance indeed. More accurately... an enemy.*
Thinking back to that powerful paladin whose very presence had once sent him scurrying in humiliation when they first met, Cassius felt a wave of wry emotion.
Though Cassius had little impression of the dragon mother he had only seen once, the urgency and humiliation of having his life and death in another's hands had left an indelible mark on him.
A dozen years had flashed by in the blink of an eye. Who could have guessed that when he met this half-elf paladin again, his identity would be that of a venerable 'ancient gold dragon'?
*Whoosh—*
Before his words had even settled, the space below the battlements warped with flickering white light.
Then, under the tense gazes of numerous dwarven warriors atop Evindeldan, a portal shimmering with starlight manifested and slowly opened.
Clad in light silver armor and bearing a silver sword at her waist, a half-elf strode forth.
She lifted her head, revealing a breathtaking, aloof face, her silver hair tied back neatly behind her head.
The half-elf looked up at the dwarves atop the gatehouse, a flicker of surprise passing through her eyes when she saw the colossal gold dragon, before nodding in greeting.
“Respected Lord of the Mountains, I come bearing the will of Her Majesty Iserin, Queen of Therenia and Sovereign of the Moon Elves.
In accordance with our millennia-old sacred alliance, we shall stand alongside our shield dwarf allies of the Mountain Kingdom to repel the orc invasion.”
Behind the half-elf, several hundred fair-skinned, long-eared, pureblood elves stepped out of the portal one after another.
Clad in light silver armor, bearing silver longbows or wooden staves, and mounted upon pegasi, unicorns, and other benevolent, magical beasts, the elves appeared before the assembly.
These were the royal guard loyal solely to Queen Iserin—the Silvermoon Followers—and the entirety of the force she could mobilize at this time.
To uphold this millennia-old sacred alliance and halt the orcs' southward invasion, this queen, widely treated as a puppet, had staked every chip she possessed.
Ed's expression shifted from stunned bewilderment to uncontainable ecstasy: “Lord Titus, your mastery of divination magic is truly... breathtaking.”
Chapter 574