Translator: CinderTL
In the Stonemason Clan's Hall, firelight danced across Imar's face, casting his features into sharp relief.
The dwarf Clan Chief rose to his feet, his shadow stretching across the stone floor like an impassable boundary.
"Helsen!" he said, his voice low but each word sharp as a chisel. "You came as an envoy, yet you brought accusations. The Stonemason Clan considers you an unwelcome guest—leave my territory immediately."
His gaze shifted to Dain, his brow furrowed. "Though you are from the Ironhammer Clan, you led a foreign race into our territory, which is also a grave error. You must leave as well."
Dain's expression darkened. He stepped forward, his beard quivering slightly. "Lord Imar, I understand your anger. But the mountain path is treacherous, our supplies are exhausted, and we cannot descend in the dark. For the sake of the young clan chief of the Ironhammer Clan, who is your cousin, and for the sake of the old friendship between our clans—please allow us to stay in the city for one night. At the first light of dawn, we will depart without delay."
Silence fell over the hall.
Imar stared at Dain for a long moment before finally snorting coldly. "For my cousin's sake, I will allow you to stay for one night. But you must leave at dawn!"
"Thank you for your mercy, Clan Chief," Dain said, bowing his head in gratitude. Though his voice was calm, a hint of suppressed emotion lingered beneath the surface.
The two men were escorted out of the hall by guards and housed in a stone-built guesthouse within the city. The room was low-ceilinged, with a small fire burning in the hearth. The stone beds were hard, yet this was a rare courtesy.
After the guards left, Dain went out, returning much later. When he pushed open the door, his face was ashen. His thick fingers clutched the edge of his cloak tightly, as if he had just emerged from a nightmare.
Helsen, who had been sitting by the hearth cleaning his sword, looked up. "Where did you go? What happened?"
Dain remained silent for a long time before finally sitting down. His voice was hoarse as he spoke. "I went to the tavern, 'Anvil and Fire' of the Stonemason Clan. It's the locals' favorite place to gossip. I sat there, listening to the patrons boast..."
He raised his head, his eyes filled with shock and pain. "From their words, we learned that the orc army did indeed pass through these mountains. Lord Imar even sent people to clear landslides and reinforce the roads, just to ensure Abal's elite troops could pass smoothly."
Helsen's pupils narrowed. So it was true!
"They also said..." Dain's voice dropped even lower, "that Imar struck a deal with Abal—the orcs would help him purge his political rivals and secure his position as Clan Chief, while he would provide them with passage through the mountains in exchange for priority rights to plunder and mine veins."
Dain shook his head slowly, his voice trembling in a way rare for a dwarf. "I can hardly believe it. The Stonemason Clan has truly broken its millennia-long isolationist policy. Imar has actually sided with Abal!"
He suddenly stood up, his eyes resolute. "I must return immediately. The Clan Chief and council of elders of the Ironhammer Clan need to know the truth—a Clan Chief who has colluded with orcs, betraying the entire dwarf race."
Helsen remained silent, staring into the fire, his fingers tapping lightly on the table as his mind continued to calculate tomorrow's strategy.
"Perhaps..." he said slowly, his voice low and calm, "we can try talking again. The Marquis didn't send me here to confront them. We want the Stonemason Clan to stop siding with the orcs, even if it means simply returning to their previous neutrality. I believe that if the conditions are right, Imar might consider cooperating with Alden Town."
He looked at Dain. "Could I meet with him again? Even if it's just a private meeting."
Dain Ironfist sat across from him, a half-empty mug of ale in his hand, and slowly shook his head.
His beard trembled slightly in the firelight. "Impossible," the dwarf said in a low, mournful voice, his certainty absolute. "You don't understand Imar Stonemason. He's the hardest stone the Stonemason Clan has produced in five hundred years, valuing his pride above his life. He publicly denied collaborating with the orcs—in front of the entire hall, he personally declared it a slander."
He raised his eyes, meeting Helsen's gaze directly. "Once he denies it, he'll never admit it, not because it's true, but because of his pride."
Dain sighed, his voice dropping even lower. "If you bring this up again, he'll only see it as you trying to force him to admit wrongdoing. He'll become angrier, more defensive. He might even lock you in the dungeon on charges of 'malicious intent,' and then you'll never get out!"
Helsen fell silent, the firelight dancing in his eyes, reflecting a hint of helplessness.
He had hoped to open a door through negotiation, but found there was no path beyond it—only an impenetrable stone wall built of pride and lies.
"So," he finally said, his voice calm, "we can only leave with the truth, unable to change it."
Dain nodded. "All we can do is bring this back to the Ironhammer Clan and inform the other clans about who is secretly colluding with the orcs."
In the dead of night, the mountain wind howled through the stone crevices. The hearth in the lodge had long since died down, leaving only embers glowing faintly orange.
Helsen and Dain had just settled into their clothes, exhaustion yet to fully claim them in sleep, when a sudden pounding on the door shattered the silence like a war drum.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
It wasn't knocking; it was a battering ram.
The next moment, the heavy stone door burst open with a crash, the sound of the wooden bolt snapping echoing sharply through the room. A squad of dwarf guards from the Stonemason Clan stormed in, their armor clanging, battle axes drawn, and the flickering light of torches dancing across their stern faces.
The captain of the guard stood at the doorway, his voice like a hammer striking an anvil. "Solan Helsen! Dain Ironfist! You are hereby arrested on charges of espionage, gathering intelligence on our clan's secrets, and plotting to overthrow the Stonemason Clan!"
Helsen sprang to his feet, hand reaching for his sword hilt, but two guards swiftly restrained him, binding his arms behind his back with thick iron chains.
Dain roared in fury, leaping up. "Absurd! I am an envoy of the Ironhammer Clan! How dare you arrest an ambassador on such preposterous charges?"
"Nonsense?" the captain sneered. "Then what were you doing at the anvil and fire?"
Dain's eyes flared with fury. "Can't I go drinking if I want to?" His beard bristled with rage. "You Stonemason Clan let the orc army march through the mountains, but you won't admit it! Now you're using the charge of espionage to silence outsiders who might expose the truth?"
He advanced on the captain step by step, his voice booming like thunder. "You're not warriors—you're cowards! A bunch of cowards who dare not own up to their deeds!"
"Shut your mouth!" the captain roared, the scar on his face twisting with fury. He swung his fist, slamming it hard into Dain's jaw.
Thud! Dain's head snapped sideways, blood gushing from his mouth. His body swayed, but the guards on either side held him fast.
The captain threw another punch, this time to Dain's gut. Dain groaned, collapsing to his knees as the iron chains scraped across the stone floor with a grating screech.
"Dare to slander the Stonemason Clan's honor again," the captain snarled, leaning close, "and I won't just break your bones—I'll throw you into the forge and turn your soul to ash!"
The guards roughly dragged the two men away, the chains clanking coldly against the stone floor.
(End of the Chapter)
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