VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 16

VOLUME 9: CHAPTER 16

Two weeks passed by in the blink of an eye. Today marked the end of the Dragon’s trial.

For the past several days, shocking events have transpired in the Dwarven Kingdom.

The first and the most stunning event was the death of the Third Prince. After leading his army into the Twin Bloody Forest, they unfortunately fell into the trap of an enraged Corrupted Dryad. Without even reaching the heart of the Bloody Twin Forest, the army of the Third Prince was annihilated.

Second was First Prince Margaro’s successful subjugation of the Death Cavern. Although it was impossible to fully clear the region of monsters, the First Prince pulled off the impossible by killing the Black Puppeteer – the absolute ruler of the Death Cavern. A creature capable of turning corpses into its undead soldiers. Two days ago, the First Prince came back to the capital while dragging the three-meters large body of the Black Puppeteer with him. Just this feat alone made everyone believe that the First Prince would be the one to win the Ancient Fire Dragon’s trial.

Lastly was the defeat of the Hafnir Army. Although they’d managed to secure several thousand monsters from the Bottomless Gorge and killed over a hundred Abyss Lurkers, the army’s exit route was overrun by a monster stampede, and the warriors were forced to retreat to the deepest parts of the Bottomless Gorge. Although Prince Hafnir managed to return alive, out of thirty thousand dwarven warriors, only five thousand of them managed to survive.

Inside the Lair, in his polymorphed form, Vulcan stared at the communication crystal hovering before him. This was the communication crystal connected to the one King Lark had. For quite some time now, he’d been contemplating whether or not he should ask for the reason behind the task given to him by Lark.

“Why are you trying so hard to think about it, father?” said Agnus. “Just ask the human king directly.”

Vulcan scowled at the youngest Dragon. The hatchling was becoming more audacious as decades passed by.

Vulcan spat, “If you don’t stop yapping that damn mouth, I’ll rip off one of your wings, Agnus.”

Those words effectively made the young Dragon shut his mouth.

Vulcan sighed, and after several seconds more of deliberation, activated the communication crystal. Soon, a human voice was heard within the Lair.

“What is it?” said Lark.

The human king was probably the most impertinent human Vulcan had encountered so far in his hundreds of years of existence. But ironically, he was one only human deserving to be so. If the words of the Earth Scylla were indeed true, then this human held strength capable of obliterating their tribe of Fire Dragons.

“I have a question,” said Vulcan. He tried his best to appear dignified before the members of his tribe. “The monster corpses. What do you need them for?”

There were several seconds of silence. For a moment, Vulcan wondered if he overstepped his bounds by asking such questions. It was really a strange feeling – a Dragon like him felt the need to tread carefully when dealing with this human. Vulcan had never felt this anxious before when conversing with a mere mortal.

“If… If you don’t wish to divulge the reason,” Vulcan coughed to hide his uneasiness. “Of course, it’s understandable. Worry not, I shall fulfill this task you’ve entrusted me to the best of my abilities, King Lark.”

“No, that’s not it,” said Lark. “I was just thinking of the best way to explain it.” He paused then said, “Vulcan, have you heard of the Essence Animation Spell before?”

Vulcan’s eyes slowly widened upon hearing this. He immediately realized the reason why the human king asked him to gather all of those corpses.

Essence Animation Spell was similar to necromancy. Necromancy worked by communicating with the dead and animating their corpses, while the Essence Animation Spell worked by extracting the essence from a corpse and transferring it to a non-animate object, giving life to it. Both spells had their pros and cons, but personally, Vulcan found the Essence Animation Spell far superior. Unlike necromancy, as long as the available materials permit it, it was possible to grant a stronger body using the Essence Animation Spell.

“The spell capable of giving life to inanimate objects,” said Vulcan. “King Lark, are you planning to give rise to an undead legion?”

“Undead legion?” said Lark, sounding somewhat amused. “That sounds too barbaric, Vulcan. Tens of thousands of living suits of armor created using the essence of strong monsters. Since I was originally the Lord of Blackstone Town, don’t you think the name Blackstone Legion fits it better?”

How terrifying.

If he managed to pull this feat off, he would be able to create an army capable of stopping the demons advance on its own. These living suits of armor would be impervious to poison, parasitization, and other spells capable of enfeebling living creatures. And if they were created using only the strongest monsters from the Forbidden Regions, each of them would be strong enough to fight against high-ranking knights on their own. Moreover, these creations would never tire and would remain loyal to their master, until the essence used to create them ran out.

“A Blackstone Legion…,” mumbled Vulcan.

With this knowledge, he finally knew what criteria to use when judging the achievements of the dwarven princes in his trial.

“We’ve managed to procure several thousand corpses of strong monsters, King Lark,” said Vulcan. “I will contact you again soon, once we start delivering them to the capital of your kingdom.”

“I look forward to it.”

The communication was cut off, and Vulcan finally released the sigh he’d been holding.

“It seems the criteria when choosing the crown prince is now clear, dear,” said Vesta.

“That’s right,” said Vulcan. “If it’s the Essence Animation Spell, the sooner we deliver the corpses to the human king, the better.”

It was time to choose the winner of the trial.

Vulcan, in his polymorphed state, left the Lair and went to the Dwarven Royal Palace.

***

[Dwarven Royal Palace]

“How is he?” said Prince Hafnir.

Lying on the bed was the unconscious General Gulan. When he first arrived in the Medicine Hall of the Royal Palace, his body was riddled with cuts and injuries, his face was swollen, and some bones were protruding out of his body. The Head of the Medicine Hall said that it was already a miracle that the dwarven general managed to survive.

“Looks like he’ll survive, Your Highness,” said the dwarven healer.

Prince Hafnir sighed in relief upon hearing this.

After they killed over a hundred Abyss Lurkers, the monsters hiding within the tunnels of the Bottomless Gorge came out, forming a Monster Stampede. The tens of thousands of monsters force their army to retreat to the deepest part of the Gorge. In there, General Gulan led their army at the forefront and put his life on the line to save the Second Prince. From their retreat, their defense, up to their escape – everything would have been impossible without General Gulan’s impeccable leadership skills.

“It’s fortunate that we’ve managed to get our hands on that potion from the human kingdom,” said the dwarven healer. “When we first heard the presence of a miraculous healing potion from one of our spies, we simply dismissed it as rumors. Who would have thought that the same potion we’ve procured on a whim would end up saving the general?”

The dwarven healer smiled wryly. They managed to obtain only two vials of the potion despite their vast network of connections in the Kingdom of Lukas. The potion was so rare that even with vast amounts of money, it was hard to procure it in the Black Market.

“Middle-grade healing potion, was it?” said the dwarven healer. “The name suggests that there’s a higher-tiered potion than the one we used to save General Gulan. How… curious. If only we could obtain more vials of this medicine, we should be able to thoroughly study how the humans concocted it.”

The dwarven healer started getting excited at the mere thought of studying this new medicine, “My prince, say… would it be possible for you to send some of your men to investigate the origins of this medicine?”

The dwarven healer expectantly waited for the Second Prince’s response. And upon seeing the Second Prince’s grim face, the dwarven healer realized that he’d overstepped his bounds. He recalled that the Hafnir Army had just lost more than half of its warriors after their failed expedition in the Bottomless Gorge.

“I-I misspoke!” the dwarven healer hastily bowed his head out of fear and embarrassment. “It’s rare for us to get our hands on medicine as potent as this. I had no intentions of—”

“—It’s fine,” interjected Prince Hafnir. “I’ll let this one pass. Please, just do your best to save the General.”

“Of course,” said the dwarven healer.

After Prince Hafnir left the Medicine Hall, he went back to his room and slumped on his bed. Once again, he recalled the events that transpired several days ago in the Bottomless Gorge.

“My elder brother has pretty much won this competition,” he mumbled.

The Black Puppeteer was the ruler of the Death Cavern. Now that it had been slain, over the years, it should be possible to clear that region of monsters and incorporate it into their kingdom once again.

Although the Hafnir Army managed to kill over a hundred Abyss Lurkers, they were unable to secure most of the corpses due to chaos brought forth by the monster stampede. In total, they were able to deliver only forty corpses of Abyss Lurkers to the capital.

“Just a little bit more,” said Prince Hafnir. “If only I was given more time to explore the Bottomless Gorge.”

Not only did he lose most of his soldiers, Prince Hafnir also didn’t manage to find the exact location of the adamantite vein. He’d read from an old journal in the secret room of the Royal Library that there was a large deposit of adamantite in that area. The only reason why the Dwarven Royal Family was unable to mine it was due to the presence of innumerable monsters in the Bottomless Gorge. This information was buried over the centuries, and Prince Hafnir believed that even his father, King Lerenon ‘Blood Mithril’ Rugard, was unaware of its existence.

Knocks were heard on the door.

The voice outside anxiously said, “Prince Hafnir! The Great Guardian Deity, the Ancient Fire Dragon, has arrived! His Majesty, King Lerenon, orders all of the princes to gather at the throne room at once!”

Those words jolted Prince Hafnir fully awake. He jumped down his bed, quickly fixed his clothes, then went to the throne room. Just like before, King Lerenon and the other princes were already outside the throne room.

“Don’t make the Dragon wait,” said King Lerenon. “Let’s go.”

The large door opened and the king and the three princes entered the throne room. Not daring to look at the Ancient Fire Dragon sitting on the throne, they all knelt down.

They said in unison, “We humbly pay our respect to the Great Guardian Deity!”

Just like before, no one dared look at the Dragon unless given permission.

“I’ve seen the list of monster corpses gathered by the princes,” said Vulcan. He’d heard of the death of the Third Prince during the expedition to the Twin Bloody Forest, but couldn’t be bothered to mention the incompetent dwarf who’d died. “I came here today to announce the winner of the competition.”

All of the ministers, officials, and warriors in the room already had an inkling of who would win the competition. The Third Prince died, the Second Prince got his entire army nearly annihilated, the Fourth Prince had mediocre results in his expedition to the Mudwater Forest, while the First Prince garnered tremendous achievements by killing the monster ruling the Death Cavern.

By this point, the announcement was already just a formality. Everyone already knew that the First Prince had won the trial and would soon become this nation’s crown prince.

But contrary to everyone’s expectations, an entirely different name came out of the Ancient Fire Dragon Vulcan’s mouth.

“Hafnir Rugard,” said Vulcan. He noticed the astonished reactions of those in the throne room but chose to simply ignore them. To him, the opinion of these insects meant nothing. “I hereby declare you the winner of my Trial.”

Vulcan raised his right hand and willed tremendous amounts of mana to gather on it. The mana took form and turned into a red, fiery crystal.

“This is the same blessing I’ve given Lerenon, your father,” said Vulcan. “Take it.”

Prince Hafnir was still in a stupor as he stared at the crystal in Vulcan’s hand. Just like the others, he also couldn’t believe the words that came out of the Dragon’s mouth.

He won the competition?

Everyone, including him, knew that the First Prince Margaro managed to achieve a feat far greater than him. Even the monster he’d slain – the Black Puppeteer – was stronger than the Abyss Lurkers in the Bottomless Gorge.

At the corner of his eyes, he saw that the First Prince wanted to complain regarding the results of the competition, but was too afraid of the Dragon to utter any protests.

“Hafnir,” said King Lerenon in a low voice, “What are you doing? Take it!”

Prince Hafnir finally broke out of his trance. With unconfident gait, he slowly walked towards the throne. Without looking at the Ancient Fire Dragon in the face, he touched the red crystal.

The red crystal broke into numerous particles of light the moment Prince Hafnir made contact with it. The particles of light spun around the Second Prince, before shooting toward his chest and merging with his body.

“Ugh!”

Prince Hafnir nearly lost consciousness the moment the crimson particles of light entered his body. It was hot – scorchingly so. It felt as though his entire body was being melted from within, and it took Prince Hafnir his everything just to remain standing.

“As expected,” said Vulcan, his expression neither interested nor amused. “You did not inherit the strength of your father. But rejoice, dwarf, for the mana of an Ancient Fire Dragon such as myself is more than enough to turn you into a fierce warrior comparable to your father. This mana, along with the throne, is your reward for winning the trial.”

Prince Hafnir finally couldn’t take it. He clutched his chest, huffed, and fell on his knees. His vision blurred as the Dragon continued looking at him with an indifferent gaze.

Eventually, Prince Hafnir fell unconscious on the ground.

The Ancient Fire Dragon Vulcan said, “How unsightly. Lerenon.”

“Yes, Great Guardian Deity.”

“Take him away.”

“Yes!”

King Lerenon issued out commands to the warriors guarding the throne room. Carefully, they took the unconscious Prince Hafnir away and left the throne room.

Vulcan said, “Lerenon, I have a task for you. The corpses gathered by the Second and Fourth Prince. I want you to send all of them to the capital of the Kingdom of Lukas.” He paused then added, “The corpse of the monster called the Black Puppeteer too. Carefully preserve it and make sure that it reaches King Lark in a perfect state.”

It was a peculiar order.

For a moment, King Lerenon wondered if the princes underwent this trial just for the sake of gifting these corpses to the Kingdom of Lukas.

This couldn’t be, right?

King Lerenon shook such thoughts off his mind. Now that he’d thought of it, the mere thought of the Ancient Fire Dragon working for the sake of a mere human was absurd, preposterous. There was no way such thing was feasible. Dragons were the most powerful and prideful creatures, after all.

“It shall be done, Great Guardian Deity!” said King Lerenon. “Should I send them the other corpses gathered by the First Prince as well?”

“No, just the Black Puppeteer is enough,” said Vulcan. “Most of the corpses gathered by the First Prince are useless. King Lark will have no need of them.”

The Black Puppeteer, the ruler of the Death Cavern, was a rare monster capable of necromancy. Almost all of the creatures in the Death Cavern were undead. Therefore, they wouldn’t be useful for the Essence Animation Spell. This was the reason why the Second Prince won, despite the First Prince garnering far greater achievements. At the end of the day, the Dragon orchestrated this trial for the sake of gathering corpses for King Lark. No matter how powerful the monster was, if the corpses weren’t usable, they were nothing but garbage before Vulcan’s eyes.

Vulcan rested his chin on the back of his hand. He fell silent for a moment. “Iron ingots, mithril ores, and several dozen dwarven blacksmiths capable of working on mithril. Send all of them to the capital of the Kingdom of Lukas as well. Remember. All of you must be respectful to King Lark, no matter what.”