Amid the sea of gold within the Eight Peaks Mountain treasury, Ryan and Veronica were searching diligently. They were on the hunt for the Yserlamith Dragon Horn, the relic that both Lilith, Teclis, and the princes of Caledor had long coveted.
Within the halls of the Eight Peaks Mountain treasury and the Ancestral Hall, many dwarven heroes were buried. Every great dwarven warrior or king would have their most prized possessions placed in their tomb—some were weapons they wielded in life, others were armor, scrolls of their lifelong studies, or books. Some tombs even held trophies of their greatest victories, such as the heads of powerful enemies. Ryan, for instance, spotted the skull of an ancient Chaos Champion hanging from one dwarven statue and the skull of a dragon in another.
To the dwarves, the relics and countless treasures buried with their ancestors represented their proud history and glorious past, and they would rather let them rest in their tombs forever. However, Belegar had been taught by the spirit of Rune King Runehammer, who bluntly told him that not using these ancestral artifacts was a true violation of dwarven tradition. Thus, Belegar decided to unearth and utilize all the ancestral relics for the benefit of the dwarven people.
King Khazador of Iron Peak Fortress strongly opposed this decision. Khazador, known for his stubbornness, had only reluctantly accepted firearms after 500 years of resistance. While he had little to say about Belegar gifting elven treasures to Ryan, he couldn't hold back when he saw Belegar casually pick up a legendary ancestral runic axe to use it.
The massive axe, known as Gorlaz-Az-Dorak, had once belonged to the famous dwarven Slayer Sochi-Beardling. Forced to take the Slayer's oath after failing to protect a caravan, Sochi received the axe from the King of the Eight Peaks. Secretly, a story of how to redeem his honor was inscribed in dwarvish runes on the axe. Sochi tested the axe's might by slaying several giants and embarked on his journey of vengeance. Though he never found the glorious death he sought, he returned to the Eight Peaks just before its fall. Single-handedly, he blocked a crucial tunnel, allowing thousands of dwarves to escape. When reinforcements arrived, all they found was the axe.
Khazador argued that such a sacred weapon should not be tarnished by lesser dwarves, while Belegar insisted that letting it collect dust in a tomb was the real dishonor. A heated argument ensued, even drawing in Angrund Clan's Chief Rune Master Srood and Iron Peak's Rune Lord Thorek, sparking a debate over how ancestral treasures should be used. Ultimately, it was the White Dwarf who intervened, pointing out that beards always start as stubble, and longbeards were once young dwarves themselves. Only then did the debate settle.
"Enough already!" Veronica covered her ears. Dwarven arguments had a peculiar quality—whoever yelled the loudest was deemed right, and the echoing halls of the Ancestral Hall and treasury only amplified the noise. Even for someone like the Garland Witch, who wasn't particularly fond of silence, the dwarves' bellowing gave her a headache. "What a ridiculous argument. Is there really any need to debate this?"
"Dwarven wisdom, my dear," Ryan said with a smile. "I wonder, if one of them were holding a grudgebuster shotgun, they'd never lose an argument."
"Hahaha!" Veronica, still in high spirits after receiving the elven armor artifact, laughed heartily, clinging to Ryan's arm. "You're always so funny, my love."
"Alright, enough laughing. Come help me find something." Ryan shrugged as he carefully searched around the tomb and treasury. "We're not resting until we find it, but if you do, there'll be a reward tonight."
"A reward? What kind of reward?" Veronica flirted with a teasing glance. "I'd rather have a 'punishment!'"
"Hehe~ Focus on finding the horn, love. We're looking for a horn made from Yserlamith silver, inscribed with elven runes and bearing the fire dragon crest of the Kingdom of Caledor. It's very important for us." Ryan playfully tapped her, adding, "Find it, and I'll reward you properly."
They continued searching for the Yserlamith Dragon Horn, while Belegar, who had just stepped out to relieve himself, was coming back with a small jug that sloshed as he walked.
Meanwhile, the dwarves were busily counting the artifacts. Belegar, with his belly sticking out proudly, declared, "A glorious victory! When all this is over, I'll have this victory recorded in my Book of Grudges. I've proven something!"
"What have you proven, Brother Belegar?" Ryan asked absentmindedly as he sifted through the golden ocean.
"Haha! I've proven that even without Thorgrim's help, I could still reclaim the Eight Peaks!" Belegar boasted. "What's a High King, anyway? In the end, I did it on my own... well, with a bit of help from you, Brother Ryan. But still, I reclaimed the Eight Peaks without needing the Everpeak's aid! Thorgrim looks down on me? Well, Grimnir's beard bore witness to this great battle! The Eight Peaks will rise again, even without help from the Everpeak!"
"…" The White Dwarf and King Khazador exchanged glances, unsure of how to respond.
It seemed Belegar's pride was swelling.
"Well… you should still thank King Thorgrim. Without his earlier support and food supplies, your people wouldn't have held out," Ryan offered gently, deciding not to burst Belegar's bubble. He continued in a softer tone, "Also, now that the Eight Peaks have been reclaimed, shouldn't you send a message to the Everpeak?"
"A message? No need!" Belegar laughed heartily, puffing up his chest. "That Thorgrim is surely watching this war closely. Just you wait—within a few days, the High King will send envoys here, and he'll be the one asking for my help! Hahaha!"
"…" Ryan was speechless. He thought to himself, "You're definitely going on the High King's grudge list for this."
Also, how had it become just the dwarves and knights? What about the wood elves?
"Just wait, Brother Ryan. I'll have the story of how the Angrund Clan and the Bretonnian knights reclaimed the Eight Peaks carved in stone. Our tale will be preserved forever," Belegar nodded. "As for Thorgrim, I'll have a talk with his envoy. The recapture of the Eight Peaks opens the passage between the northern and southern dwarf strongholds. He'll have no choice but to send men to help us fortify it… Ryan, what are you looking for?"
"I'm searching for an elven treasure—the Yserlamith Dragon Horn. High Elf Archmage Teclis personally tasked me with finding it," Ryan replied honestly. "It should be somewhere in the Eight Peaks treasury. Have you seen it, Brother Belegar?"
"The… Dragon Horn?" Belegar asked curiously. "What does it look like?"
"It's a horn made of Yserlamith silver, inscribed with elven runes and bearing the fire dragon crest of Caledor," Ryan explained. "It was crafted at Vaul's Forge in the volcanic lands of Caledor."
"Elven runes… Yserlamith silver?" Belegar's face began to change as he lifted the small jug in his hand and inspected it. His expression became increasingly awkward.
The jug, which had been made into a chamber pot and filled with urine, was indeed a horn. And just as Ryan had described, the fire dragon crest of the Kingdom of Caledor was inscribed on it, along with several elven runes. It was large enough to hold over a liter of liquid, which was why it had been repurposed as a chamber pot.
The horn sloshed with the sound of liquid.
Ryan: "…"
Belegar: "…"
"Hahahahahaha!" The entire hall erupted in laughter. Everyone in the treasury, especially the White Dwarf, who loathed the elves, was nearly doubled over with laughter. "By Grimnir's muscles, serves them right! That's how you deal with pointy-ears! Hahahaha!"
"Well, Brother Ryan, do you still want this… uh, chamber pot? Ahem, I mean, Dragon Horn? You can have it. We dwarves have no use for it."
"… I'll take it."
"Hehe, here you go. Look, Brother Ryan, it's still warm!"
"~!@#￥%& (incomprehensible muttering), give it here."
---I am the divider of Dragon Horns---
While Ryan and the others were still busy inventorying the treasures within the Eight Peaks treasury and Ancestral Hall, outside on the Eight Peaks Plateau, the settlement of Sloppy Town (renamed Valley Town by Ryan and Belegar) was bustling.
Snow continued to fall. While the summers at Eight Peaks were relatively warm, the winters were long and snowy. The knights' expeditionary force, the dwarven army, and the wood elf troops were temporarily stationed here.
Previously named Sloppy Town by the greenskins, Ryan and Belegar had renamed it Valley Town due to the small stream flowing down from the icy lake atop the mountain. The wood elves and part of the human army had set up camp here.
The humans and dwar
ves were busy repairing and rebuilding the fortress and town, while the wood elves, with little to do and no trees on the plateau, found the environment unsettling and largely kept to themselves.
It was during this time that Alaroth the Brave, the wood elf hero, while Ryan and Belegar were still deep in the treasury, found a quiet spot in Valley Town. He placed his gleaming antlered helmet on the ground, knelt inside a building, and began praying to Lilith.
"Lilith~ Lilith, can you hear the prayers of your most loyal servant and admirer? I have important news to share with you!"
Alaroth prayed for a while, and after about ten minutes, the Lady of the Lake's voice echoed in his mind from the void. "Speak, Alaroth. I trust this is important."
"Um… about our agreement with the dwarves, do we really have to go through with it?" Alaroth hesitated with a minor question.
"This agreement will not harm us, Alaroth," the Lady replied casually. "It's just a matter of you helping with a large shipment or two. Ryan and Belegar already have an understanding. I will speak with Kurnous and Isha; don't worry about that."
"Alright, but the Eight Peaks treasury has been opened, and those dwarven stumps won't let me in. What if they don't plan to honor our agreement?" Alaroth continued.
"The dwarves have not yet broken the agreement. They've only just opened the treasury. Why are you in such a rush?" The Lady's tone carried a hint of coldness and impatience. "Is that your 'important' matter, Alaroth? I'm busy. If there's nothing else, I'll be leaving."
"Wait… Lilith!" Alaroth panicked, gesturing for his goddess to stay. He thought for a moment, then gritted his teeth and said, "I've discovered something critical. A few days ago, while we were fighting the Skaven deep within the tunnels, I uncovered a shocking secret! Ryan-Malcador knows how to summon Chaos demons—targeted summoning! He thought he hid it well, but I saw through it!"
"Oh, that? I'm aware of it," the Lady replied indifferently, to Alaroth's astonishment. Her tone remained calm. "Is that all? If there's nothing else, I'm leaving."
"Lilith! Lilith! You already know?!" Alaroth stood up in shock, growing agitated. "Summoning Chaos demons! Do you realize what this means? It means Ryan-Malcador, the knight-king you've placed so much hope in, is most likely a Chaos worshiper and cultist! We must… we must—"
"Must what?" The Lady's tone remained indifferent.
"We must immediately find a way to eliminate him!"
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