Chương 234

Orion let the noise of the argument between Samael and the Clan elders fade into the background, knowing they wouldn't go anywhere for a while. He quietly slipped away from the group, tiptoeing across the stone floor toward the back wall. Pauline noticed his move, her figure shifting slightly inside her cloak, but she stayed near Samael to keep up appearances, even as she watched him with her eyes. His target, Daelin Lazuli, stood in the shadows of a large pillar.

The young dwarf held a vellum journal, a stylus moving quickly across the surface. He seemed to be going through the motions of taking notes but wasn't very good at hiding his frustration with the arguments being presented. Even if Orion hadn't looked at his status window, he would have found it interesting, but combined with what he knew, it painted a very intriguing picture.

"You don't agree with the Clanlord," he said, keeping his voice low enough to avoid drawing anyone else's attention. Daelin paused his writing and looked at Orion, his expression guarded.

"Borin is a traditionalist, and his pride will always make him struggle to accept weakness in his own people, but he's not necessarily wrong." It seemed like he was barely managing to persuade himself, so Orion responded with a raised eyebrow. Daelin lasted only a few seconds before he exhaled sharply.

"Alright, yeah. I saw how easily their golems took out ours, and it's clear this enemy has a weapon we're not prepared for."

"You took part in the defense?" Orion asked in surprise. Considering the young dwarf's title, he'd assumed he'd be kept away from danger, but maybe he'd misunderstood something.

"I did," Daelin said, gesturing to his side, where a scarred iron bracer rested on a nearby side table. The metal was pitted and stained with a pale, powdery residue left behind by enemy darts. Some had been scraped off with a knife, exposing a set of dull runes that Orion had the impression were meant to withstand far more than a glancing blow.

"May I?" Daelin hesitated, then gave a short nod. Orion picked up the bracer, feeling the weight of the steel and the intricate, though currently dormant, enchantments woven into its structure. Surprisingly, they hadn't been broken completely, confirming that their craftsmanship was beyond what was commonly found in shops.

"Your elders believe their runecraft is superior to the Iron State's alchemy, and that it will be enough to keep the enemy out, as it did for so many others. It won't. The Silence isn't the kind of weapon you can fight by hunkering down and hoping the Iron State will tire itself out." Raising his index finger, Orion gathered a tiny spark of light at the tip. He brought the glowing spark close to the pale residue lining the iron's scars. The moment the light entered the proximity of the Silence, the residue reacted.

The powder flared, actively drawing the mana from Orion's finger, and consumed the light, quickly spreading its corrosive mark across the iron bracer. The metal hissed, and the latent enchantments woven into the steel sputtered out in a puff of acrid smoke.

"That is what will happen to your wards," he said with finality. The little show drew a few looks, but no one seemed particularly interested, since they thought the two of them were the most junior people in the room and were thus afforded some leeway. On the other hand, Daelin's eyes widened, his breath catching as he realized what it meant.

"It doesn't matter how powerful our wards are if they cannot connect to the Earth's Song," he whispered, staring at the ruined bracer.

"Rather, it will use the energy as fuel to expand, making it even harder to resist."

"Exactly," Orion said, cutting his mana flow to stop the reaction.

"Obviously, the scouting unit you fought today wouldn't be enough on its own to take this entire fortress, much less the whole Forgelands, but if they are not stopped, the Iron State will bring their heavy artillery to your inner gates, and any attempt you make at stopping them with your traditional methods will fail. Your doors won't hold. The Silence will devour the runes, and the gates will turn to brittle slag."

Daelin looked from the bracer to the arguing dwarves at the central table, and it was clear that he agreed that, in the face of such a complete disruption of their doctrine, the elders wouldn't be able to adapt. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

Orion didn't know what wonders hid in the vaults beneath these mountains, and he was sure the greater Clans would have either tier four warriors of their own or at least artifacts of that level that could put up a fight, but the sheer amount of damage that would be inflicted upon the Forgelands during the first wave of attacks didn't bear thinking about.

"They isolated us on purpose," Daelin murmured sharply, his mind quickly reaching the same conclusion Orion had earlier.

"Our Councilor knew about this anti-magic and didn't warn us, knowing our traditional defenses would fail. Or rather, because they knew we would fail. They want the Iron State to destabilize our hold so they can swoop in and reclaim the territory once we are dead."

"Pride is a heavier burden than armor," Orion said quietly.

"And even more likely to blind the bearer to their own weaknesses. Your elders won't listen to us, but they might listen to someone like you." He made sure to infuse enough meaning into that last word to show he knew Daelin wasn't just an ordinary scribe. He had no way of knowing, since he had zero contacts with anyone from the Forgelands except for a few merchants, much less from this hold specifically. But Daelin didn't try to deny it.

He looked at Orion, his guarded expression dropping completely, and as he set his journal down, his posture shifted from that of a young scribe to someone used to commanding. It did nothing to alter his features, but considering how everyone began to turn toward them — people who had happily ignored them until then — it was more than just Orion's impression.

"You aren't a typical mage either, are you?" Daelin noted, his eyes scanning Orion's lab coat and the lack of traditional casting implements.

"I am Orion Voidwalker," he replied, though he doubted his mother's surname had reached this far into the Forgelands, considering that she'd been elevated to Veil Priestess just a few months ago.

"And no, I'm not typical."

"I am Daelin of the Stonebreaker line," the dwarf introduced himself confidently, extending a thick, calloused hand, even as several people—both dwarves and men—around them gasped at the admission. Ironically, that didn't clarify anything for Orion, who already knew as much but lacked the context to understand just how highly ranked Daelin was. Still, he could tell from the reaction that it had to be pretty important.

Deciding that the details could wait for later, Orion shook his hand, feeling the strength in the young dwarf's grip.

"We have a lot of intelligence to share, from their tactical doctrine to the specifics of their mages. We can even help you refit your defenses to counter the Silence, but only as long as you pull your own." Strangely, that caused Daelin to break out into an amused smile, as if he'd just said something very funny, but he still nodded.

"We will, as soon as we get past this initial snag. Borin will agree to cooperate if I tell him to, but if you want to make sure it's really a smooth one, he'll need a practical demonstration." Before Orion could ask what he was thinking, the heavy stone doors of the meeting chamber slammed open. A soot-covered dwarf rushed into the room, dressed in practical clothes, with goggles and a mask hanging around his neck, coughing heavily.

The argument at the table stopped immediately as everyone turned to face the disturbance.

"Clanlord!" the engineer gasped, leaning against the doorframe.

"The seismic tremors from the siege... destabilized the primary exhaust shafts. The main thermal vents in the lower foundry have somehow collapsed, causing a sudden rise in temperature." Borin's face went pale.

"The magma flow?"

"It's backing up," the engineer confirmed grimly.

"Pressure is building in the lower containment rings. If we don't clear the blockage within the hour, the magma will breach the primary forge and flood the entire lower sector." Chaos erupted in the war room. The generals started shouting orders, abandoning the diplomatic standstill with Samael. Borin grabbed the engineer by the shoulders.

"Send the earth-shapers! Tell them to stop it, no matter what it takes!"

"They can't," the engineer pleaded.

"The flow is too strong already. They would have to use high-tier impact runes to break it up, and the adjacent thermal pipes are already buckling from the heat, despite being rated to withstand much more. An explosive rune will shatter the pipes, and then the magma will flood the tunnels anyway." Something in his words seemed odd to Orion. He doubted the dwarves hadn't developed ways to handle exactly this kind of problem over the centuries they had tapped into the magma flows, but such a sudden collapse…

So there were two units. One led the assault, and the other sabotaged this safety system. And while the first had been sent packing by their intervention, the second had apparently succeeded. Daelin turned to Orion, a spark of opportunity in his eyes.

"Our earth-shapers can't clear a blockage of that density without causing a blowout," he said softly, gesturing toward the frantic elders.

"You want to prove your worth to the clan, Voidwalker? You want them to listen to your warnings about the Iron State?" Orion pursed his lips. Normally, he wouldn't hesitate to take advantage of such a chance, but repairing such complex systems required more than a passing understanding, as he knew very well. Still, this was too important, and it wasn't like the dwarves seemed to have many other good options, so he met Daelin's eyes and nodded.

"We'll deal with it," Daelin immediately declared. His voice lacked the booming volume of the Clanlord, but it was still audible, and all heads turned toward him. Borin spun around, his eyes flashing with anger.

"This is not the time for an apprentice to speak out of turn, Daelin."

"I speak as the Heir to the First Foundry," Daelin countered, his tone hardening. A sudden silence swept over the dwarven generals. Samael and Jonatan shared a surprised look, while Pauline simply tilted her head, her shadows rippling with amusement. Even without detailed knowledge of dwarven politics, Orion could infer that being the Heir to the First Foundry was a big deal.

"The thermal pipes cannot withstand concussive runecraft," Daelin continued, holding Borin's gaze without flinching.

"If you send the shapers down there, you will destroy the lower levels yourself. We need a different approach." He turned and pointed toward Orion.

"My friend here offered to take care of the matter himself, and I say we let him prove it." Borin stared at Daelin, then looked at Orion with a mix of outrage and genuine confusion.

"You want to send a human into the deep vents? He will roast before he reaches the blockage."

"If he fails, we lose the lower levels, which is exactly what will happen if we do nothing," Daelin replied evenly, as if he wasn't speaking of Orion's death.

"If he succeeds, I have agreed to lead our entry into the alliance they are building against the Iron State." The Clanlord's jaw worked silently as he considered his options. Pride clashed with survival until the rumbling of the mountain beneath their feet served as a stark reminder of the ticking clock. He glanced at the other mages, as if expecting one of them to step in and scold Orion, but when none of them moved to do so, he relented.

"Fine," Borin snapped.

"Show us this miracle, human." Orion didn't bother replying, unable to come up with something suitably diplomatic for the odious dwarf. Instead, he nodded to Daelin.

"Lead the way."