Chapter 1277: Chapter 692: The Exiled Dwarf Kingdom_2
All dwarves cherish their beards, even more so than the axes in their hands, and this affection is deeply ingrained in their aesthetics. It is said that when dwarves choose a mate, the first thing they look at is the beard.
A dwarf without a beard is a very strange sight. Forcibly shaving a dwarf’s beard is the greatest humiliation one could inflict upon him—a disgrace that only blood can wash away.
Leading at the very front was a quintessential dwarf: stout and burly, with not a single hair left on his head. Under the glow of the Everbright Fla torches, his bald scalp glead, but a dense mass of beard flowed down to his belly. This beard was ticulously grood, braided into five bundles adorned with nurous beard rings. Yet the marks of ti were impossible to hide—his beard was entirely white, and his forehead bore deep, chiseled wrinkles, so pronounced that they looked as if they could trap a fly.
Like most of the long-lived races, dwarves remain in their youth and middle age for a significant portion of their lives, with a childhood only slightly longer than that of humans. However, their aging phase is as fleeting as that of humanity. When the signs of senescence manifest upon them, it ans they have grown incredibly old.
The elderly dwarf before them was such a person. Currently, he resembled a ninety-year-old human elder in his frailty. If Gaven rembered correctly, he had only ten years left to live before death would claim him. For such a death, not even the Priest’s Resurrection Technique could bring him back, and even if the gods themselves descended, they would be powerless. This signified that he had completed his mortal cycle—whatever conflicts, grudges, or regrets he had in life would no longer hold any relevance. He would have to move on to the God Kingdom or reenter the cycle of life.
This individual was none other than the last Dwarf King of Tesser Yama Kingdom, the son of Glarion, the Wandering Dwarf King, Clan Leader of the Iron Clan, Giharin. He was also one of the most Legendary Blacksmiths in all of Felen.
“General Gaven, I have waited for you so long that even the stars and moon seem to have lost their light. Good, good, good. You are even more extraordinary than I imagined! Co, co, co—please, step inside quickly.” Giharin clasped Gaven’s hand tightly, his enthusiasm almost overflowing from his face. Anyone unaware of the situation might have thought they were old friends reunited after years of separation. He displayed none of the dwarves’ usual sternness or obstinacy.
In truth, this was Gaven and Giharin’s first eting, although they had been corresponding via letter for months. The exchange began when Gaven ca into possession of a batch of Fine Gold.
However, back then, his letters seed to have disappeared into the void without a trace. Whether the other party hadn’t received them—or simply didn’t regard the young Gaven as worth their ti—remained a mystery.
The latter was more likely. After all, at that ti Gaven was, at best, moderately well-known in the Rocklands and Valley. Attempting to engage with Giharin was overly ambitious.
Though Giharin was a displaced king without his ancestral lands, even a starved cal is larger than a horse. Thousands of dwarves still pledged loyalty to him. If he chose to, he could raise an army at any mont. In 1364, five years later, the Iron Clan did exactly that, launching an attempt to reclaim Tesser Yama Mine. They ford a dwarven army called the Mithril Legion but sadly failed.
Since then, the Iron Clan had never launched another effective campaign against Tesser Yama Mine. When the Arcane Catastrophe struck, they lost their chance entirely, as Tesser Yama Mine, along with most of Mokou Mountain Range, was wiped off the map of Felen Continent.
Even without that royal status, Giharin was a Legendary Blacksmith. Nobles and adventurers lining up to request his services could practically wear down the threshold of his ho. He could not possibly et everyone, let alone respond to every letter. This was why Gaven, despite knowing Giharin’s whereabouts, had not visited him rashly. A person of Giharin’s stature would not bow to re wealth—unless one possessed enough power or influence to present him an alternative possibility, such as aiding in his dream of reclaiming his kingdom.
And clearly, Gaven—backed by the Conqueror Army—possessed the requisite credentials. By the ti Gaven received Giharin’s reply, his army had already reached the Giant Dragon Coast.
This ti, it was Gaven’s turn to take his ti. He maintained their correspondence but refrained from visiting imdiately.
If the other party valued his power, then Gaven would simply wait and let the full weight of his influence mature before initiating a eting. And so he waited, deliberately, for an entire month.
That delay was not in vain. Had he co a month earlier, he would not have received the sa level of treatnt he was enjoying now.
“Visiting at such a late hour feels rather intrusive, but I was caught up during the day discussing the recovery of the Rocklands in the royal capital and simply couldn’t get away,” Gaven offered as an excuse. Both n, however, knew the unspoken truth—he was simply unwilling to publicly expose their cooperation just yet.
Giharin, for his part, seed utterly unbothered. “The gates of our True Shield Trading Company are always open to you, General. Co, co, co—I’ve already sent people to prepare a banquet. Tonight, we drink until we can drink no more!”
“The banquet won’t be necessary,” Gaven replied. “Let’s get straight to business. My ti here is incredibly limited; by dawn, I must depart.”
“Who knew your temperant is even more impatient than us dwarves?” Giharin chuckled and cast a fleeting glance at Miss Goser. The aning behind his look was clear: the matters they were about to discuss involved many secrets—was she fit to be included?
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