Chapter 170: A Flower Blooming in Winter (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 170: A Flower Blooming in Winter (1)
“Enter in an orderly fashion!”
Deep beneath the Heart of Magmora.
Under the command of the immortal blacksmith, Hargran, the dwarves moved with perfect discipline. The non-combatants, unable to participate in the battle against Skadia, were evacuating to a bunker located below the Heart of Magmora.
The Heart of Magmora was a colossal forge where the very souls of the dwarves were smelted, a place they revered as if it were their guardian deity. It was their final defensive bastion, fortified with countless defense systems. There was no safer place in all of Doomheim.
“I can’t believe a place like this existed in Doomheim. This is the first I’m hearing of it.”
“Me too. Who in the world built this?”
Even with war looming, the dwarves’ curiosity was irrepressible. Most of them had only just learned of the bunker’s existence.
Though coated in dust from long disuse, it was not dilapidated. It was a magnificent bunker, so well-crafted that even the dwarven artisans couldn't help but gasp in admiration. It was, quite literally, strong enough to withstand a dragon’s attack without issue.
It was as if it had been prepared for this very day.
“Aren’t you going in, Father?”
Perka watched as the other dwarves entered the bunker. She was currently in the core of the Heart of Magmora, the very place where the ember that recovered the forge’s residual heat and magical energy to power the entire city was kept.
If the ember went out, every smithy in Doomheim would cease to function, and the city would be left to shiver in the subterranean cold. It was called the heart of Doomheim for a reason.
Due to its importance, it was a restricted area, with only the keeper of the ember permitted to enter.
Perka stood at its entrance with Thorvar.
Despite the worry lacing her words, Thorvar’s response was unchanging.
“The keeper of the ember protects the ember. Where else would I go?”
“What can you do, anyway, if the dragon makes it this far?”
While some Meisters were skilled in combat, Thorvar had no fighting ability whatsoever. He was a blacksmith, far from a warrior.
“Stop spouting such nonsense and get inside.”
“Such a workaholic… If the dragon comes, just run. Don’t even look back.”
“I know what I’m doing.”
At his cold reply, Perka grumbled and headed into the bunker. Thorvar watched her until she disappeared from sight.
A moment later, Karami emerged from behind a pillar.
“I’ve never seen a more frustrating father and daughter. It takes a special kind of talent to drag things out when a simple conversation would solve everything.”
“Hmph. Look who’s talking, the one-armed man. If you don’t want to lose your other arm and become a roly-poly toy, you’d better get lost and go inside too.”
Karami just shrugged, as if to say Thorvar was a lost cause. As he passed by, he offered a piece of advice.
“Keep this in mind. A child will never know unless their parent tells them. Of course, I know everything even if my slave doesn't say a word.”
“…Crazy bastard.”
Ignoring Thorvar’s sharp curse, Karami left the forge. Outside, fully armed dwarven warriors and the Meisters were assembled.
A speech was in full swing, meant to boost the morale of the warriors before battle. Azyeth was watching the scene from a short distance away.
Karami, muffling his footsteps, crept up as stealthily as possible and clapped a hand on Azyeth’s shoulder.
“Boo!”
“…?”
Azyeth didn’t even pretend to be surprised, making him feel awkward. She simply stared at Karami with a placid expression before tilting her head to the side.
By now, he knew exactly what that gesture meant. What is it?
“I was trying to help you relax if you were nervous. It’s a shame, I would have liked to see you surprised.”
He had never once seen Azyeth get startled or scream. Surprise was an emotion, after all. He thought it would be good for her to express it.
Karami licked his lips in disappointment.
“……”
Azyeth watched him quietly.
Karami didn’t know.
He didn’t know how startled Azyeth had been to see him injured.
How furious she had been.
And that another emotion was secretly beginning to sprout.
But Azyeth felt that this, at least, was something she couldn't let Karami find out. She didn't want him to.
She didn't know why.
“Looks like the speech is over.”
In that short time, the Meisters’ long-winded speech had concluded. All that remained was a victory chant to bolster the warriors’ courage.
“Alright, go on.”
Karami whispered something in Azyeth’s ear and gave her a push from behind. As if shoved, Azyeth appeared on the balcony.
Countless eyes turned toward her. The dwarven warriors waited for her to speak.
Azyeth, her languid eyes betraying no hint of tension, gazed down blankly before moving her hands. It was the ultimate move Karami had just taught her, one that would add power to the victory chant.
She raised a hand slightly in front of her chest.
She crossed her thumb and index finger to make a shape.
The so-called finger heart.
And then, a wink.
“With love… do your best…?”
“UWOOOOOOOOOH!”
A heart-felt cheer from Azyeth, one that even a dragon would covet?
This, they couldn’t resist.
No cheer in the world could be more empowering.
The dwarves’ roar shook the very pulse of the earth.
*
It was a night of thick, low-hanging clouds.
Beneath a sky devoid of moon or stars, a shadow deeper than the darkness itself fell upon the land.
The sky seemed to split, a blue light spreading from the crack. Each flap of its wings scattered shards of ice that embroidered the sky like stars.
Skadia, its colossal body oppressing the atmosphere and stirring up a storm, landed at the entrance of Doomheim.
Greeting it was a legion of fully armored dwarves and three Meisters.
Ulbrahm, the Ruler of the Battlefield.
Hargran, the Berserker's Hammer.
Turuntu, the Guardian of Steel.
Even as the area froze over upon Skadia’s manifestation, they stood unflinching, thanks to the special cold-resistant gear they wore.
The implication was so blatant that even Azyeth could understand it.
“So it was you. You who stole the princess of Freezian. How dare you deceive me. You cowardly moles have grown quite bold.”
“Heh heh, we dwarves know nothing of the shamelessness of turning away a guest.”
“Have you not heard from your ancestors? The story of why you dwarves came to live hidden beneath the ground.”
“How could we not know of the shackles that have bound us to this place? However, tonight we intend to break free from a thousand years of bondage. O, Ice Dragon, you shall become the turning point in dwarven history.”
“Then try it, if you can, you foolish mortals.”
Before, Skadia had let them be for the sake of repairing the mirror, but that was no longer necessary. It could now pinpoint Azyeth’s location even without the magic mirror.
The moment Skadia raised its body and spread its wings to take flight.
“Now! Fire!”
Ulbrahm gave the signal.
Around Skadia, hidden turrets burst from the ground, firing harpoons.
Ch-ch-ch-ch-chak!
Harpoons with chains attached to their tails flew in an arc and slammed into the ground. Hundreds of metal chains interwove to form a net.
The layers of metal mesh instantly ensnared Skadia. The chains pulled taut, squeezing the dragon with immense pressure.
Skadia was squeezed flat.
It narrowed its eyes.
“This is…”
This was no ordinary net.
The chains that formed it were none other than mithril.
Mithril, the dream material for any adventurer’s gear. Its hardness was incomparable to most metals, and its excellent mana conductivity made it worth a fortune.
Following Karami’s advice, they had poured an excessive amount of it into these mithril chains and mounted them on the turrets.
‘The most important thing when fighting a flying creature is to keep it from flying.’
When Skadia landed to receive the mirror, that was the opening they could not afford to miss.
“If you thought you could restrict my movements with something like this, you are sorely mistaken.”
As if finding the attempt laughable, Skadia powerfully beat its wings, and the net billowed violently. The turrets connected to the harpoons were shaken to their roots.
A sense of dread spread through the dwarven ranks, but Turuntu was quick to issue the next command.
“Do not panic! Activate the turrets!”
The dwarves activated the turrets.
Flames danced along the chains. An intense, crimson mana spread across the entire net. Where the mana touched Skadia’s massive body, steam erupted violently.
“Haha! How do you like that, you lizard bastard! Hot, isn’t it!” Hargran shouted boisterously.
It was the core of a Flame Golem that guarded ruins in a lava zone. An energy source of endlessly boiling lava, it was extremely effective against the ice-aspected Skadia.
The lava-like mana, conducted through the highly conductive mithril, melted the dragon’s extreme cold.
There was no need to fight a dragon fair and square. They had to use every means at their disposal.
Mithril and a Flame Golem’s core.
The money they had invested in preparing for this war was astronomical, but it didn’t matter. If they could just capture Skadia, money would be as common as stones on the road.
“What a pathetic trick…”
The chains, forged by the master craftsmen of the dwarven race, were indeed difficult for even Skadia to shake off.
But this was the Ice Dragon Skadia.
One of the primordial dragons of creation.
The incarnation of winter.
“Did you truly think you could bind me with a mere net like this?!”
Skadia’s roar echoed.
A north wind exploded, sweeping through the area.
Like a candle flame in the wind, the net binding Skadia froze in an instant. As Skadia spread its wings wide and rose.
CRACK—!
The chains shattered and scattered, making a mockery of the fact they were mithril.
Kuuuuuooooooh.
The ice dragon roared.
Skadia had finally taken flight.
As it inhaled the air, its chest swelled enormously.
“Freeze!”
A brilliant, pale-blue radiance erupted, a line connecting heaven and earth.
The Dragon Breath that had brought an eternal winter to the Freezian Kingdom.
The prelude to the end.
And that…
‘The first breath will come as soon as it’s airborne.’
…was all within Karami’s predictions.
A single point of chilling light shot backward, toward the breath.
Skadia’s eyes twitched as it caught sight of it.
“Princess?”
It was Azyeth, the girl it had kept in its lair and watched for hundreds of years.
But she was vastly different from the Azyeth that Skadia knew.
Joy.
Sorrow.
Anger.
Fear.
Trust.
Desire.
And finally, love.
These seven emotions mingled, bringing a spectrum of color to her once doll-like, expressionless face.
Sword in hand, Azyeth soared into the air, the hem of her dress fluttering.
Ice illuminated the path she had walked, and snowflakes colored the trajectory she would follow.
Azyeth’s upward slash struck Skadia beneath the jaw.
KWAAAAAAAANG!
In that split second, the breath’s trajectory was knocked askew, shooting up into the sky. The clouds were blown away, and under the falling moonlight, ice crystals glittered.
“Don’t. Hurt. People.”
Like a flash of light heralding the end of a dark age.