Chapter 20 The Cave
As they emerged from Hell, the last rays of the setting sun had just faded.
Before them lay a sparse forest, its edge ending in a large cliff face covered with a few low shrubs.
This had once been a volcano; eruptions had created numerous caves of varying sizes at the foot of the mountain.
The caves in the cliff face were darker than the outside sky, densely covering the entire cliff, giving them an eerie appearance in the twilight.
"Unlike traditional elves, we prefer to live in warm caves,"
the short elf explained as he led the two angels past the row of dark caves. As if in response, one of the caves suddenly emitted a plume of white smoke as they passed.
"Don't worry, they only frighten first-time visitors. Once you get used to them, there's nothing to be afraid of."
"It's alright," Michael, bold as ever, said, his eyes gleaming as he looked at the strange cave. According to Parnom, the strange creature who called himself an elf, they were a branch of the elves—the dwarves—who lived in the territory of Malbath.
"So, there are quite a few of you. Why haven't we heard of you before?" Michael asked.
"Although we were also born from the Elf Tree, we separated from the spores of its roots, unlike them who grow from the tree itself."
Elves born from tree cocoons love sunlight and gentle breezes, and are tall, handsome, and divine, while dwarves born from the tree's roots are naturally averse to light and short in stature.
The elves don't like dwarves and rarely mention their existence to outsiders.
"I understand, just like fungi in the mortal world," Michael said, suddenly realizing, then comforting the dejected Parnom.
"Actually, I think fungi are quite good. I've heard they're mostly delicious," he said, raising his hand to indicate that he had only heard about them and had never eaten them, noticing his superior's casual glance.
"What are you afraid of?" Lucifer laughed. He had punished Beelzebub, and as a result, the entire angelic camp dared not eat.
"Eat whatever you want."
Michael couldn't believe Lucifer was so agreeable, then he saw the dwarf hesitate.
"Fungi shouldn't be eaten indiscriminately; they might be poisonous."
Michael glared angrily at Lucifer.
"Your Highness, did you already know this, and that's why you said it on purpose!"
Lucifer was speechless for once. He ignored the howling lieutenant and looked at the dwarf who was staring at them with wide, curious eyes.
"Did you come here from the elven lands?"
Pynom nodded and then shook his head, saying.
"I haven't returned to the elven lands since I was born."
"Why? Don't you go back?" Michael looked at him in surprise.
"The chieftain said it's not the right time yet."
"When is it?"
"I don't know either," Pynom hesitated.
"Every now and then, some dwarves come from the elven territory. Once they stop coming from there, we can probably go back."
As the silver moon rose above the treetops, they passed through the bushes and entered a hidden canyon.
"Our settlement is inside the canyon. Follow me and don't wander off."
Upon entering the canyon, Michael saw pairs of eyes hidden in the shadows, glowing eerily green.
"What are those?"
With his excellent eyesight, he saw small creatures half-buried in the ground, with flat, square heads, deformed features, and eyes the size of light bulbs.
The key point is that they were as ugly as dwarves.
"They're goblins, they grow from the soil. The chieftain agreed to let them live with us; they're kind of distant relatives."
Pynom said this with obvious displeasure. He waved his fist at the green eyes, and then the green disappeared.
"Some cunning but not very bright fellows, extremely troublesome."
"That's why I told you not to wander around. They're useless, but they love to play pranks on strange visitors."
The gnomes resented the elves' disdain for them, so they didn't easily refuse their kin, even though they genuinely thought the goblins were incredibly stupid.
After quickly passing the goblin-inhabited land, Pygnum pointed ahead.
"It's just ahead."
Compared to the outside, the caves in the canyon were deep and long, and almost every cave was filled with flames, with the constant clanging of hammers echoing. As they passed, the gnomes inside invariably put down their hammers, cautiously poking their heads out, silent, only observing 'secretly' with their large eyes.
Michael couldn't help but wave to one of them. The little gnome quickly shrank back, but after a while, couldn't resist peeking out again, secretly watching them.
"Don't mind them, they're just being cautious."
"…"
To be honest, after seeing so many strange faces, the little dwarf's big, curious eyes were rather endearing.
The dwarf chieftain lived in the largest cave. Two smaller dwarfs stood at the entrance. Penom told them to wait and ran inside first.
A short while later, he ran back out and said to them, "Come in."
The cave was very warm, probably from the torches placed every ten meters along the sides.
The dwarf chieftain was at the deepest part of the cave. When Penom led them in, he was intently watching a fire, his gray cloak dragging on the ground, worn and tattered.
"Penom, you can go out now," the dwarf chieftain said to the smaller dwarfs. He turned around, revealing a ferocious mask on his face, but his voice was surprisingly gentle.
After Pygmal left as instructed, Garris stared intently at Lucifer and Michael, who remained standing.
"Good day, Your Highness Lucifer, Your Highness Michael, my name is Garris."
"You know us?" Lucifer looked at him. Michael was one thing—red-haired, six-winged angels were rare—but Garris himself was still black-haired and wingless. He wouldn't be able to call him by name so confidently if he hadn't seen him before.
"It was an honor to witness your magnificence at the Creation Ceremony." Unlike Pygmal, Garris's words were refined, suggesting a standardized education.
Lucifer gazed at his mask. All beings who participated in the Creation Ceremony, striving to leave a good impression on the gods, had meticulously dressed themselves. Even demons, beneath their thrones, were handsome and dignified.
Garris met Lucifer's gaze, removed his ugly mask, revealing a beautiful face.
"You…"
Michael looked at the dwarf chieftain with some confusion. Gareth was handsome and clean-cut, with neatly trimmed flaxen hair. Aside from being a little short, he looked no different from the elves of the elven realm.
"I know the purpose of your group. From the moment I heard about the disturbances in the mortal realm, I knew this day would come," his voice suddenly rose, and then, under the watchful gaze of the seraph, Gareth plunged into the darkness, pulling out a mechanical demon.
"Mechanical demons are perfect. They will only faithfully execute orders, charging forward fearlessly." He touched the mechanical's cold body; even in the dry, hot cave, it remained icy.
"Their bodies are forged from the cold iron of the far north, incredibly hard."
"But it's not impossible to dismantle them." He lowered his voice, as if suddenly lost in thought.
"As long as there's a weapon harder, one that can subdue them."
"Then tell me what kind of weapon it is!" Michael, impatient with his cryptic spiel, couldn't help but urge him on.
"It's a weapon forged from the earth's core lava."
"How can lava be made into a weapon!" Michael was skeptical. High-temperature magma is a flowing liquid; although it can destroy everything, it lacks form and cannot be used as a weapon. When it cools and solidifies into stone, that stone is fragile and easily destroyed.
"Our dwarven forging techniques can do it," Gareth arrogantly raised his chin. He suddenly pulled a black and red dagger from the burning fire. Before the sparks had even settled, he gripped the dagger and plunged it into the mechanical demon's body.
The indestructible mechanical demon instantly disintegrated, turning into a pile of parts scattered on the ground. Flames began to spread from the part initially pierced by the dagger, quickly reducing it, along with the dagger, to a heap of black ash. ㊣ωWW.メ伍2⓪メS.С○м҈
Lucifer's expression changed slightly, but then he saw Garris pick up the dagger from the ground and say with a smile.
"Only iron from the frigid lands meeting the fire of the earth's core, the clash of hot and cold, can create such a wondrous weapon. Unfortunately, a single dagger can only be used once," he said proudly, meeting Lucifer's gaze.
"Only we can forge a sufficient number of weapons for you."
"We have only one condition," he said, "that is, for the Elven King to acknowledge us dwarves as elves."
"Perhaps you don't know, but I wasn't born from a tree cocoon; I was the first elf born beneath the Elven Tree." A flame burned in Garris's amber pupils as he recalled his birth, a hint of sarcasm playing on his lips.
"Atledis named me Dwarf, meaning short."
Hearing Gareth address the Elf King by his full name without any honorifics, Lucifer's fingers involuntarily twitched. He already realized something, but out of respect for his friend, he still refused to think in that direction, and could only listen silently as Gareth recounted the secrets of the Elven race.
"It seems I can only grow this tall, and that is indeed the case, but apart from that, I am no different from other elves." Gareth took a deep breath and continued.
"Even so, I still suffered much injustice and discrimination."
"And the fate of the elves born under the Elf Tree after me was even worse."
"They had no beautiful appearances, no melodious voices; the sunlight only dazzled them, and the morning breeze only chilled them."
"A large number of mutated elves were born, and the elves said it was a curse, so they forcibly expelled them from the Elven territory."
"But it wasn't their fault!" he shouted.
"So you wore a mask, concealing your face, and led them here," Lucifer said softly.
"I had to do it," Gareth said, his eyes still filled with sorrow as he recalled that time.
"When they were driven away, many were just born from under the tree, like Pynom, too young to remember."
"I gathered them back together, and to commemorate this shame, I named the entire race Dwarfs."
"I never imagined such a thing could happen among the elves."
Gareth felt the angel's compassion for them, a compassion that softened his expression.
"Although the elves are arrogant and detestable, they possess the Mother Tree."
"The Mother Tree is our root. For it, I am willing to set aside my prejudices. Therefore, I have never spoken of this past within my tribe. I have never forgotten the elven lands; that is our true home. One day, we will return home!"
That day finally arrived.
"We are elves. As long as Atreides acknowledges this, we will join the war," Gareth said, his expression shifting as he looked at the angel, who was still reeling from the shock and becoming somewhat dazed.
"After all, the demons are waging war under the guise of us offering gifts to the Elven King. We are actually quite unhappy about it."
Although Agares impersonated a goblin, anyone in the know understood who he was pretending to be. Goblins simply didn't have that kind of intelligence; they'd struggle to even learn to speak!
"There are always some ignorant fools who confuse us with goblins," Gareth said, puffing out his fair cheeks, clearly displeased.
No, before this, the angels had never heard of either goblins or gnomes. Michael's expression was subtle, then he looked at the fuming gnome chieftain, thinking to himself.
It seems the gnomes share a common disdain for goblins.
Even though they themselves are disliked by the elves, in some ways, this group is quite similar, especially in this kind of internally inherited, unconscious hierarchy of contempt.
You provided the author, Twilight, with a tale of the arduous journey of creating a world within the framework of Hebrew mythology.