Chapter 597: A Thread of Hope ( 597 )
“He does not co here, Chieftain. He said… he’s waiting for a command. From soone.”
Gumarak furrowed his brow. “Waiting for a command?”
“Yes… He didn’t elaborate. Only said he was awaiting orders.”
Gumarak’s heart sank slightly. He had a feeling—a dangerous, undeniable feeling.
“This… Lord Javier… Did he ntion who he is? His family, perhaps?”
The commander nodded slowly. “He… he ntioned the Armand family.”
The na echoed like a thunderclap in Gumarak’s ears.
Armand.
His breath hitched. The mighty chieftain of the Dwarven Kingdom, fell to his knees.
Tears welled in his eyes. Not from fear. Not from sha. But from a flood of pent-up guilt and the overwhelming realization of what was unfolding.
So… Garius received the news… One of the ssengers made it. I didn’t think it possible—between the Halflings and the Human Kingdom cutting off every path.
He swallowed hard.
And now… it’s too late to run. Garius will not be rciful. He won’t say much. He’ll just watch.
He laughed bitterly through his tears, face twisted in self-loathing.
Lioness will scold with that deadpan face of his. Mylezra will nag for three hours straight. Veldrac might yell. But Garius… he’ll let talk… and then hand out my punishnt in absolute silence. That’s the worst part.
His hands clenched into fists on the floor.
I was a fool to claim that damned Celestial . A fool who dragged his people into ruin.
He trembled, overco with everything at once—sha, regret, and a flicker of hope that perhaps… just perhaps… it wasn’t too late.
Gumarak, still on his knees, trembled. His voice cracked as he asked again, “Did… did the boy ntion anything?”
The commander shook his head. “He didn’t say anything else yet, Chieftain. Only that… he has a mission.”
Gumarak felt the weight of those words collapse upon his shoulders.
A mission… from Garius…
That could only an one thing.
The boy—Javier—was here to capture him.
Not to kill. Not to destroy. But to bring him in. Alive.
Because that was how Garius punished those he once called friend.
Gumarak stared down at the floor, his fingers curling against the stone. It’s all my fault… He’d let the celestial corrupt him, let his pride blind him, and now—now his kingdom paid the price.
The last stronghold had fallen. The wyvern skies were outmatched. His people were starving, boxed in by two kingdoms, with no path of escape. And the Celestial inside him never stopped screaming.
Devour. Kill. Devour. Kill.
He clutched his chest.
“…I’m already captured,” he muttered hoarsely. “Just not in chains yet.”
The room remained frozen. No one dared speak.
The dwarven king, once unshakable, sat kneeling in silence—waiting for the arrival of the judgnt he knew he could never run from.
“…Stand up,” he ordered the kneeling commander.
The commander rose without hesitation.
“Go,” Gumarak continued. “Distribute the food. Prioritize the wounded and the children. Then the frontline. Everyone else cos after.”
“Yes, Chieftain!”
Gumarak’s eyes didn’t leave him. “And the 3,000 soldiers you brought with you… are they able to fight? Are they still loyal to the Dwarven Kingdom?”
The commander nodded. “Yes, Chieftain. Their morale returned the mont we received food. And more than that… the knights that ca with Lord Javier—they’re ready to line up along our defenses, too. All they await is your permission.”
Gumarak narrowed his eyes. “They’ll fight for us?”
“I… I don’t know, Chieftain. They didn’t speak.But before we left, Lord Javier gave a ssage: if you give permission, just tell it to the one wearing adamantite armor and wielding adamantite weapons.”
The entire war room froze.
“…A-adamantite?” one of the generals muttered.
A gasp swept through the dwarves. Even the most stoic among them flinched.
Adamantite—so rare that even the Dwarven Royal Treasury only held a few scraps. A tal said to rival the strength of divine ore, capable of enduring fla, mana, and ti without a scratch.
Mithril was already hailed as the pride of dwarven craftsmanship. But adamantite? That was myth made tal.
“A-all of them?” one of the officers asked, voice shaky.
“No,” the commander said. “Only one. But that one… I swear to the ancestors, he radiates fear. Even our best warriors flinched when they saw him.”
Gumarak felt the knot in his chest tighten.
The Armand boy… no, the son of Garius… was truly not ordinary.
“…Grant them permission,” he said at last. “Let them line our walls.”
“But, Chieftain—”
“I said grant it,” Gumarak repeated, his tone sharp. “If that boy… if Lord Javier wishes to protect, even after all we’ve done… then we accept. With humility.”
“Now move!”
“Yes, Chieftain!”
The commander saluted, turned on his heel, and ran out of the war room with urgency in his steps.
The heavy doors slamd shut behind him, leaving only silence in the room.
Gumarak leaned back in his stone-carved chair.
“I really hope we can stand and defend this last line of defense… before that monster Edmund sends his troops… and his damned wyverns to crush everything.”
The room remained still.
No one dared interrupt the silence.
Because every dwarf in that chamber knew the truth—Edmund would co. The question was only when. And how brutal it would be.
But for now, they had food. They had a temporary wall of steel and mithril standing beside them.
And they had a sliver of hope—one that wore a demon mask and called himself Javier.
anwhile, in the third Dwarven stronghold—
“Ehehehe~ Co and catch , Buddy!”
Cuquawked!!
The sound of sharp talons scratching against the stone echoed as the large Pekko, Buddy, dashed playfully after Javier, who held a roasted leg of beast at high above his head like a prize.
“Too slow! You want this? Then work for it!”
Cuquawked!!
Buddy flapped his wings in short bursts, eyes locked on the dangling at. His large beak snapped harmlessly as Javier ducked under a low archway, laughing.
The nearby Dwarven guards froze mid-patrol, mouths agape at the bizarre sight of the feared masked warrior—the one who crushed 120,000 Halflings without lifting a sword—now playing tag with a bird.
Javier finally paused, holding the at up with one hand and letting out a breath.
“Alright, alright. Here—who’s a good bird?”
Cuquawked!
Buddy lunged forward and happily snatched the at from his master’s hand, munching loudly and flapping his wings in victory.
( End Of Chapter )
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