*Whoosh—*
Accompanied by a soft hum, space rippled and twisted as a teleportation portal snapped open. Two gold dragons, one large and one small, emerged one after the other. Aurora supported the heavily wounded Titus as they stepped into the dwarven royal palace.
Dwarves sat along both sides of a long banquet table laden with exquisite delicacies, mountain game, fresh seafood, and their favorite strong spirits, the heady aroma filling the air.
The palace of Evindeldan was a wonder chiseled out thousands of years ago by the first High King of the Mountain. To dwarves, it was exceptionally cavernous, but to an ancient gold dragon over thirty meters long, it felt somewhat cramped.
"It's the Wings of Dawn!"
"Lord Titus, Lady Aurora, you're finally here!"
"Good day, Lord Titus! It's wonderful to see you. I've been waiting for this day for so long..."
Seeing the gold dragons arrive, the dwarven generals and officials throughout the hall rose in haste and surged forward with boisterous greetings, nearly swarming the two dragons. The hall instantly erupted into noisy commotion.
Though they had little regard for court etiquette and their bows were crude and clumsy, heartfelt reverence and gratitude shone openly on every bearded, weathered face.
Dwarves were inherently frank, stubborn, and clear-cut in their affections and grudges. They rarely masked their thoughts, wearing everything plainly on their sleeves.
To the dwarves, Titus, the "Dragon of Dawn," was their great savior. At the critical hour when the orc horde bore down upon their walls, he had stepped forward to turn back several ferocious assaults and slain the Great Warchief of the orc tribes.
For this, the song-and-dance-loving dwarves had even composed several popular ballads, such as *Golden Wings*, *The Dragon Bringing Dawn*, and *Flames atop Blackrock Mountain*. They danced around bonfires and belted them at the top of their lungs whenever they celebrated over drinks.
In such an enthusiastic atmosphere, even young dwarven children would hum lines while playing: *"He swiped down his claws and flattened the orcs! He spat blazing fire and scorched their host!"*
"Good day, Lord Titus, Lady Aurora. Please forgive my ill-mannered subjects—they've made fools of themselves before you," a familiar voice called out from the distance.
Titus nodded slightly in response. "Good day, King Ed. It has indeed been quite a while."
The surrounding dwarves parted to make way. King Ed stepped down from the throne and strode forward with steady, measured steps. He looked vigorous and radiant, a far cry from the critically wounded state he had been in just days earlier.
Looking at the scarred body of the ancient gold dragon, the dwarven king asked with genuine concern, "Lord Titus, I heard of your heroic stand against the Cinder Emperor. How are your wounds—?"
Titus shook his head and murmured, "Nothing serious, just superficial flesh wounds." He looked the dwarven king up and down, a flicker of surprise showing in his eyes. "Rather, your body... how did it come to this...?"
Through his constant *True Seeing*, Titus could see that although the dwarven king appeared full of vitality—a night-and-day difference from his prior dying state—the forge fire within him, which symbolized a dwarf's life, was already guttering and dim, on the verge of extinguishing.
"Bwahahaha!" Ed laughed heartily, pounding his chest with great pride. "It's all thanks to the ancestors' blessing! A dwarf's greatest trait is our tenacious, unyielding vitality!"
Titus fell silent for a moment and chose not to expose him; he had already guessed the king's intentions. Meanwhile, the surrounding dwarven generals and ministers crowded together, throwing their arms around each other's shoulders and roaring with laughter in heightened spirits.
"Haha, that's a dwarf for you!"
"Aye! We were worried sick before, but King Ed recovered in just a few days—he's even sturdier than before!"
"King Ed told us he's going to sit on that throne for at least another two hundred years! Make the Mountain Kingdom great again!"
A grin spread across Ed's rugged face as well. He stroked his beard and extended a hand. "Lord Titus, please take your seat. I invited you to this feast primarily to celebrate our victory in the war.
"Three days ago, our outriders discovered that the orc legions had completely retreated north of Mount Fuller. Gruumsh's plot has been thoroughly shattered by us!"
At this, the dwarven king's voice soared with pride, and the surrounding dwarves cheered in unison, the hall buzzing with jubilant heat.
"Make the Mountain Kingdom great again!"
A dwarf raised his mug high and shouted, his face flushed bright red. He swayed unsteadily on his feet, clearly having snuck quite a few draughts of fiery liquor already.
"My ally, that is indeed an occasion worth celebrating," Titus replied, nodding calmly. He took his place on a massive seat specially prepared for him by the dwarves, while Aurora sat beside him.
"Long live the Mountain Kingdom! Long live King Ed! Shield dwarves never yield!"
"Cheers!"
"Hahaha, to victory!"
The dwarves cheered in ragged chorus, their raucous shouts and the clinking of mugs reverberating through the hall.
Glancing around, Titus asked with some curiosity, "Since this is a victory feast, why haven't our elven allies arrived?"
Ed replied, "Once the orcs retreated north, Lady Rhea hurried back to Therenia with her personal guard. She must have been summoned by Her Majesty the Queen."
The gold dragon nodded and pressed no further, but inwardly he began calculating. Now that the river of fate had shifted course, the coup in Therenia would likely occur much earlier.
He would need to carefully consider when to intervene so he could secure what he wanted from the Elven Kingdom...
Just then, Ed stood up, raised his cup toward Titus, and bellowed, "To our noble, magnificent gold dragon ally—Titus, the Wings of Dawn!"
"To Lord Titus!"
"Wings of Dawn! Wings of Dawn!"
"*The dragon bringing dawn, he swiped down his claws and flattened the orcs! The dragon bringing dawn—*"
The dwarves roared once more, chanting Titus's name, and excitedly broke into their improvised ballads.
In such a boisterous atmosphere, the habitually rigid and grave gold dragon felt somewhat awkward. Nevertheless, he extended a claw, carefully pinched a wooden cask taller than a dwarf, and drained the fiery spirits within in a single draught.
"I merely did what had to be done. To the dwarves—it is your bravery that brought peace and victory to Evindeldan," Titus said solemnly.
"Long live Lord Titus!"
"Praise the gold dragons!"
Hearing Titus's praise, the dwarves responded with even greater fervor. Paying no heed to the vast disparity in size, they leapt up to clink their mugs against the dragon's cask.
As the feast progressed, the dwarves drank without restraint. Their faces grew redder, and the heavy reek of alcohol saturated the palace air.
Discarding all pretense of decorum, they celebrated with wild abandon. They gorged themselves at the tables and danced in circles around the gold dragons, hand in hand.
Some drunken dwarves even climbed onto the banquet tables, singing and dancing, drawing bursts of laughter and rowdy jeers while silver cups and platters clattered noisily to the floor.
"Long live the gold dragons!"
"Dragon of Dawn, you are the savior of Evindeldan!"
Though Titus and Aurora were infected by the revelry, neither dared join in. Given their immense size and strength, an actual celebration on their part might have brought the entire palace crashing down.
The feast dragged on until midnight, by which point the dwarves had collapsed in drunken stupors, strewn haphazardly across the floor. The palace was left in utter shambles, a chaotic mess littered with spilled cups and plates.
At the far end of the long table, Ed had uncharacteristically drunk very little. He merely wore a gentle smile, watching the gold dragons from afar before rising to his feet.
"Lord Titus, my subjects have once again made a spectacle of themselves before you. The hall is now far too filthy and clamorous for quiet conversation. Would you care to... take a walk outside to catch up?"
The ancient gold dragon seemed to understand his intent. He gave a slight nod and turned to Aurora beside him. "Aurora, wait here a moment. I'll return shortly."
Aurora looked concerned and stammered, "Senior Titus, but your wounds..."
Titus reached out a claw and patted the young gold dragon on the head with a gentle smile. "Aurora, my injuries aren't so dire that I will drop dead the moment I leave your sight."
Hearing this and looking up at the ancient dragon's warm expression, Aurora had no choice but to nod and obediently remain where she was.
"Lord Titus, please follow me," Ed said, gesturing forward.
The palace gates groaned open. The dwarven king walked steadily ahead, with the ancient gold dragon trailing close behind. Though Titus limped from his wounded limbs, keeping pace with a dwarf was effortless.
They crossed the gardens, entered a concealed mineshaft, traversed a long tunnel, and eventually arrived in a secret chamber deep within Blackrock Mountain.
Taking in the lifelike dwarven reliefs carved into the walls and the ancient Dwarvish runes, Titus said, "King Ed, bringing me to such a place... this isn't merely to reminisce, is it?"
"Of course not. I wouldn't presume to waste your time."
Titus folded his wings behind his back and lowered himself to the floor to keep his gaze level with the dwarf. He let out a long sigh. "Then let us speak, King Ed. For instance... about your body."
Ed offered a bitter smile. "It seems nothing escapes your eyes, Lord Titus. Your mastery of magic remains as unfathomable as ever."
The dwarf unhitched the warhammer from his belt. "This warhammer is an ancestral relic of our Mountain Kingdom. Whenever a dwarf of royal blood dies, they melt their essence into this hammer to become strength for future generations.
"A few months ago, I forcibly fused my body and soul into it. Though it granted me tremendous strength for a time, it came at an irreversible cost.
"As time passes, within three years, my life fire will be drained dry by it, and I will become a part of this warhammer."
Ed stroked the engraved patterns upon the metal and spoke softly, "Still... you've already noticed. I used a secret technique to reclaim a portion of that fire to temporarily restore my strength. In exchange, I have less than a year left to live."
Titus frowned deeply, asking with gravity, "There are ways in this world to prolong life. Why were you in such haste to regain your strength?"
Ed turned away, staring intently toward the southwest. "I have lived long enough. To my mind, dying on the battlefield is far better than clinging to life, lingering on as a half-dead husk.
"As for why I was in such haste to regain my strength... I believe you know the reason far better than I do."
The ancient gold dragon froze for an instant, as if a thought had suddenly struck him. His voice took on a slight tremor. "You mean... the Cinder Empire?"
Ed nodded heavily. "You must know that the Cinder Empire has completely conquered North Aethel. The Mountain Kingdom sits right on their northeast flank; that red dragon emperor could march his armies here at any moment.
"I've reviewed the intelligence brought by the Harpers. The Cinder Empire's military might is simply overwhelming. If I hadn't returned to my peak..."
The dwarven king lowered his head with another bitter smile. "I fear Evindeldan would fall before the red dragon emperor even lifted a finger."
Ignoring the pain in his limbs, Titus pushed himself upright with a violent lurch, speaking through clenched teeth in fierce agitation. "I will aid you! I will never stand by and watch that wicked dragon seize Evindeldan! I will never watch another of my allies fall to that beast!"
Ed glanced at the ancient gold dragon with gratitude, yet he shook his head with profound solemnity. "Lord Titus, I formally decline your aid."
"Why? Am I no longer your ally?" Titus demanded, his voice brimming with raw emotion.
"Forgive my bluntness, but your wounds are simply too severe. You fought with your life to resist the Cinder Empire's invasion; you have already done more than enough for us dwarves, and for this continent.
"What is more..." Ed let out a self-deprecating laugh before continuing, "this is a war that is virtually unwinnable. A being such as yourself must serve as a pillar of resistance against tyranny, playing a greater role in the future. You cannot throw your life away alongside us now."
"Yet..."
The ancient gold dragon lowered his massive head and fell into silence. The dwarven king was not wrong: given his current injuries, he stood no chance of repelling the Cinder Empire.
He had no rebuttal.
Rather than throw oneself into an unwinnable battle, it was far wiser to lay long-term plans, rallying allies from across the lands until they possessed enough strength to confront the foe.
Of course, that was reasoning from the perspective of "Titus." By now, Cassius had slipped flawlessly into character, fully immersing himself in the bitter powerlessness of a champion unable to hold back the encroaching conqueror.
After a long silence, Titus finally looked toward the dwarven king and spoke slowly. "King Ed, then... what would you have me do?"
Ed raised his gaze to meet the ancient gold dragon's eyes, his voice steady and resolute. "I would ask you to protect the last bloodline of the Mountain Kingdom for me. If Evindeldan falls, I hope you will take everything I entrust to you and leave this place.
"That way, even if the Mountain Kingdom perishes, our descendants will rise again in the not-so-distant future. They will carry on our civilization and reclaim the former glory of the shield dwarves."
Chapter 630