The vaulted halls of the World Tree Empire glowed with a golden radiance, roots of the eternal tree woven into walls of living wood and crystal. The air shimmered faintly with arcane energy, humming like the slow heartbeat of a giant. Beneath the ceiling of woven branches sat Empress Elfina Slyvana, her emerald eyes sharp as glass blades. Her throne was not of stone, but of woven silver roots pulsing with luminous sap, as though the empire itself bent to cradle her.
Before her stood the guests from the Woltein Empire a delegation that radiated raw power and predatory intent. Cloaked in black and crimson, their presence felt less like diplomacy and more like the arrival of a pack of wolves into a grove of deer.
The leader, Supreme Admiral Paenu Woluin, lowered his head only slightly, his long silver hair brushing the fanged insignia on his breastplate. Beside him loomed the four Grand Elders of the Wolfein bloodline: Kulein, Juriam, Laqo, and Uriaznui elders whose gazes held both ancient cunning and bloodlust. They were four of the seven pillars that guided Woltein's eternal war machine.
Behind them, silent and disciplined, stretched an honor guard of Absolutes, their auras heavy as mountains. Though they numbered only a hundred of the wolf race, their eyes gleamed with the cold pride of hunters. The rest of their twenty thousand Absolutes and two hundred billion Eternal ranks were drawn from other enslaved civilizations fodder meant to be discarded when blood ran high.
The Empress's gaze lingered on them, then returned to the Admiral."You have brought much steel to my roots, Admiral," she said coolly, her voice carrying the clarity of a blade. "Yet I know you do not cross galaxies only for courtesy. Speak your purpose."
Paenu Woluin straightened, the weight of command in his voice."Our empires share enemies, Empress. The dwarves grow stubborn in their defiance, their Absolutes standing like thorns in the path of expansion. They resist enslavement. They must be broken, their strongest cut down, their people bound in chains. This is why we have come."
Grand Elder Kulein added, his deep voice rumbling like stone splitting:"And beyond the dwarves lurks another concern. Whispers speak of a hidden civilization, meddling in shadows, interfering where they are not wanted. We will flush them out. Together."
Elfina leaned forward, the sap-light glinting against her silver hair."You offer alliance, but it is not charity. What do the wolves seek in return?"
"Nothing more than spoils of war," Juriam Wolfein replied with a sharp smile. "The dwarves' forges burn with metals rare even to us. Adamantite, Etherium, Eternal Steel. We will have our share. And their Absolutes once scattered and hunted they will never rise again."
The Empress's lips curved into a faint smile, cold as the sap of her throne. "Then let us bind root and fang in blood. Together, we will uproot the dwarves."
The chamber trembled as thousands of Absolutes of the World Tree answered the pact with a resonant shout. Five thousand of her own stood ready to march with the wolves, bringing the allied total to twenty-five thousand Absolutes, supported by an endless tide of Eternal soldiers birthed from the tree itself.
The fleets gathered in the void beyond the World Tree's crown, a storm of steel and energy. One hundred million frigates and destroyers, fifty million cruisers and battleships, and one million carriers drifted into formation, each carrier bristling with mechs fifty apiece, standing like iron soldiers waiting to descend. The banners of wolf and tree flew side by side, casting shadows across the stars.
The wolves brought their rookies, Eternal youths barely blooded in battle. The Empress cared little; the tree birthed her soldiers without end. For them, life and death were but cycles of root and leaf.
From the flagship Devourer of Suns, Admiral Paenu addressed his commanders."The dwarves are resilient. Their Absolutes fight in packs, never straying from fortress support. Clever little smiths. But they bleed. We will bleed them faster. Surround them. Overwhelm them. Grind their axes to dust beneath our fangs."
Far away, within the fortress-realms of the Dwarven Empire, alarms thundered through the forges. The dark void shone with bursts of light as enemy fleets warped into range. On the command deck of the adamantine fortress Ironheart, Emperor Thorine Steelsword stood in gleaming battle-plate, his twin axes forged of Golden Lion craftsmanship strapped to his back. His beard was braided with steel rings, his voice like the roar of a furnace.
"They come with wolves at their heels," Thorine growled, his eyes narrowing at the tactical display. "So the Elves could not stomach facing us alone. They bring their masters, thinking we will bow."
At his side, Supreme General Gurio tightened his gauntlets, sparks of runic light dancing over them. His gaze never left the enemy formation spreading across the stars."They come with numbers that shame the heavens, sire. Twenty-five thousand Absolutes, billions of Eternal fodder, and fleets beyond counting. But let them come. We are dwarves. We were born in fire, and in fire we endure."
Thorine chuckled, low and grim. "Aye. Let them test the bite of my axes. Golden Lion steel has never failed my hand."
He turned to his Absolutes scarred, stocky warriors standing firm despite the shadow of the armada. "Brothers and sisters! The wolves think us prey, the elves think us kindling! Show them the forge of our blood runs hotter than their arrogance!"
The dwarves roared, the sound echoing like an avalanche across the fortress halls.
The battle began with a thunder that shook galaxies.
From the elven fleet, beams of searing heat lanced across the void, converging on the dwarven defenses. Ion cannons from the dwarves roared back, bursts of violet energy ripping through cruisers whose magic shields flickered and died. One elven destroyer exploded, then another, fire blooming like dying suns. Yet for every ship that fell, a dozen more surged forward.
Within the storm, Absolutes clashed like gods. When five dwarves held the line, fifty elves descended upon them, spells and blades tearing space itself. But the dwarves fought as their forges taught them unyielding, shoulder to shoulder. Every axe stroke cut through enemies who had never known real war.
On the front lines, Thorine Steelsword swung his twin axes in arcs of silver light. Each blow cleaved an Absolute apart, their weapons shattering like glass against the impossible sharpness of Golden Lion steel. "You call yourselves warriors?" Thorine roared. "You are but kindling!"
General Gurio fought beside him, his commands sharp even as his blade carved through Eternal ranks. Arrows of searing magic streaked past him, a heat ray blazed against his shield, but he did not falter. His sword bit deep into enemy mechs, splitting armor like tin. "Hold the line!" he bellowed. "Every step they take will be paid in blood!"
The void burned with explosions, fractured light scattering across dwarven armor. Though they lost Absolutes five, ten, sometimes more the dwarves refused to be drawn away from fortress cover. The elves cursed as their traps failed, their prey too disciplined to chase the bait.
On the bridge of the Devourer of Suns, Admiral Paenu's eyes narrowed."They resist with more cunning than the elves claimed."
Grand Elder Laqo Wolfein sneered. "They are smiths pretending to be warriors. Pride will not save them."
But Elder Uriaznui's gaze lingered on the tactical feed, watching as dwarven formations bent but did not break. "Pride alone perhaps not. But steel sharpened by Golden Lion forges? That may yet draw blood."
Empress Elfina's projection shimmered into existence upon the deck, her voice smooth but edged with irritation. "Do not falter, Admiral. The tree's roots are endless. The dwarves will drown beneath us."
Paenu bowed his head slightly. "As you command, Empress. Still every wolf knows, a cornered beast bites hardest."
Then the void trembled with new light.
From hyperspace tore a flagship colossal in scale, its hull black as night and marked with a single terrifying emblem: a wolf devouring a planet. The Woltein Empire's war emblem blazed like a scar upon the stars.
In the dwarven fortress, silence fell for a heartbeat as Thorine and Gurio stared at the monstrous arrival.
Thorine's knuckles whitened around his axes."The Wolves themselves…" he muttered.
Gurio's jaw tightened, his voice grim."So it is not only the elves. The true predators have arrived."
The dwarves exchanged no more words. Their faces hardened, their hearts steeled. The wolves had come to feast but the dwarves would make certain that every bite carried the taste of blood and fire.
And so the battle raged on, the fate of civilizations hanging in the balance as wolf and tree sought to break the forge-born will of the dwarves.