A Father’s Death and the Dwarves Who Forsook Their Nation – Part 01

The Blue Dragon clan prided itself on being the strongest among the twelve Dwarven clans.

“What in the world?”

The clan chief could hardly believe his eyes.

Moments ago, he took up the challenge hurled by the Golden Boar clan’s chief, and a battle naturally broke out. Though the Golden Boar clan was known for its brawlers, the Blue Dragon clan hadn’t underestimated them. But they never expected the Boars could go toe-to-toe with their own elite fighters, fully armored and battle-hardened as they were.

The first miscalculation: the Golden Boar clan was stronger than expected.

The massive hammer wielded by the Boar clan chief clashed evenly with the greatsword swung by the Dragon chief. But while the two of them were trading sparks, the Dragon clan had hoped their subordinates would suppress the enemy forces.

The second miscalculation: the Boar chief’s granddaughter was an absolute powerhouse.

“Hyaaaah! You stand in front of me, that means you’re ready to get wrecked!”

Swinging a massive double-headed axe larger than herself, she struck down warrior after warrior of the Blue Dragon clan. And it wasn’t just the granddaughter, Waffa. Her female party members were just as formidable. Nevertheless, the Blue Dragons still had the numbers advantage.

The third miscalculation—and yes, there were three—was the human party’s mage, who wielded devastating elemental magic.

“You’re not getting away in that armor! Muddy Quicksand!”

The spell, cast by a rare black-haired girl, had an enormous area of effect. The cobblestones underfoot caved in, and with a bubbling splurt, muddy water erupted, tripping up the Dragon clan’s soldiers.

The spell affected the Boars too, but since they weren’t heavily armored, they quickly scrambled out. Most of the Dragon warriors, however, were now incapacitated.

The Blue Dragon clan had been overwhelmed without being able to put up any resistance.

“Gwahahaha! So much for the great and mighty Blue Dragon clan, eh?!”

“Shut up, you pig-headed bastard!”

The chief wanted to back his men up, but his duel with the Boar chief left him unable to break away.

“Damn it. We just need the woman from the Bright Rooster.”

Just then, the Dragon chief noticed something inside the estate. With the Boar soldiers outside fighting, the grounds were nearly empty, and he could see Gilma surrounded by humans.

He knew instantly. That had to be the Bright Rooster woman the Boars were holding.

A yelp came from somewhere.

“What’re you doing?!”
“Someone help her already!”

Waffa had slipped and fallen headlong into the massive bog. Her foot was caught in the deep mud, and she was slowly sinking.

The Boar chief panicked. “Waffa! Blue Dragon chief, this fight’s on hold!”

What nonsense was this old fool shouting? Normally, the Dragon chief would scoff—forgetting that he was old himself—but watching the frantic Dwarf rush toward his granddaughter, he let him go.

“What incredible luck.” The chief grinned.

A path had opened before him. The gate stood wide open, and if he sprinted straight across the now-empty grounds, he’d reach the Bright Rooster woman in no time.

“Hahahaha! Lord Brigid must be smiling down on me. Outta the way!”

Three Boar men stepped in his path. The Dragon chief swung his greatsword. One man blocked with a shield but was knocked aside, another spun like a top and collapsed, and the last dropped to his knees and foamed at the mouth, fainting on the spot.

Pathetic weaklings, the Dragon chief thought.

“Woman! Come with me!”

The Bright Rooster woman stood just ten meters ahead. Gilma looked up at him, eyes wide with fear.

If he could snatch her, victory would be his.

“Male Dwarves really don’t know how to handle women.”

A female human stepped into his path.

Her golden hair was tied up in a chignon, her spotless silver breastplate gleamed, and she wore a long cloak over her shoulders. A sword hung at her waist.

“Outta the way! Unless you want to get hurt—”

He couldn’t finish. The sword she drew glowed red and moved with terrifying speed. In a single slash, it sliced clean through his greatsword.

“Huh?”

The Dragon chief stood frozen, eyes wide. His blade broke into four pieces and clattered across the ground.

The red sword returned to its sheath as the woman—Selyse—stood firmly before him. Though she was more than a head shorter, she’d completely overwhelmed him.

“Want to keep going? I’d rather not spill any more blood. It would ruin my clothes.”

Her indifferent tone spoke volumes of the difference in skill.

The chief let out a small, strangled gasp. The Blue Dragon clan’s defeat was now certain.

---

The alliance of the Orange Ox, Yellow Tiger, and Black Goat clans had pulled back to the huge warehouse owned by the Orange Ox clan. They were exhausted from the fighting with the Green Rabbit and Indigo Snake clans, and they needed time to tend to the wounded and figure out what to do next.

Fires had been lit in several places inside the warehouse, and the soldiers were warming themselves around them. While no one was drinking, the air was rich with the smell of roasted meat.

Their biggest concerns were the loss of the Progenitor’s Gauntlets, the extinguished flame of the Progenitor’s Forge, and the fact that no one knew who the next master would be.

“Continuing these skirmishes will only drain us further. We’ve strayed far from the original plan. It’s time we corrected our course,” said the leader of the Orange Ox clan, a middle-aged Dwarf wearing a helmet with horns jutting out from either side.

“All we need is for the Progenitor’s Forge to be rekindled,” muttered the Yellow Tiger clan’s leader, a slim Dwarf elder with gray hair and a long beard, wearing a tiger-pelt vest.

The Orange Ox, Yellow Tiger, and Black Goat clans were particularly devoted to the art of smithing, and that shared passion had brought them together. They also had a history of being oppressed by more aggressive clans like the Blue Dragon, so this was a rare opportunity for them to unite.

“Clearly, we know the most about smithing! Which means the Flame will choose one of us.” The leader of the Black Goat clan had a thick afro of dark blue hair and round, beady eyes. He spoke animatedly, his cheeks flushed. “When it does, there’ll be no hard feelings. We’ll use it together. That agreement is effective for as long as possible. No jumping the line. Got it? This is the Three-clan Pact of Flame. No jumping the line.”

“Enough, enough. You don’t have to keep repeating yourself,” grumbled the Orange Ox clan’s leader.

“What we need to think about now is our next move. According to the latest intel, the Golden Boars, who went to the Bright Roosters, apparently ran into the Blue Dragons.”

“Oh. Let them wear each other down.”

“If those two clans can thin each other out, all the better. But what about us? We still don’t know which clan the Flame will choose, or has already chosen. If we had the Dark Dog clan around, we might’ve gotten some intel. But they’ve been completely off the radar for the past few days. Wouldn’t surprise me if they went down the mountain with the Red Rat clan.”

They were in the middle of this discussion when a Dwarf came to report.

“Chief, a human brought back a lost child from the Orange Ox clan.”