Knights and Magic Wand
Chapter 451 - 451 211 Steel Furnace Castle

451: Chapter 211 Steel Furnace Castle 451: Chapter 211 Steel Furnace Castle The ancient mountains stood silently on the earth like giants, and the interwoven ridges of the mountain ranges snaked and wound their way to the horizon.

The desolate mountains, with their bleak cliffs, exhibit the primitive beauty meticulously carved by nature.

Orland’s northern territory lies even north of Hectorwa Plain.

This is the edge of the Western Continent.

…it’s like the end of the world.

Rocks tumbled down the slopes of the mountainside, plunging into the deep gorge and shattering the silence here.

Brief footsteps followed one after another, stepping on this mountain path untrodden by anyone for centuries.

Several miners, burdened with their packs, clattered forward on oiled steel feet, accompanying their masters over the rugged mountains.

About forty short and sturdy figures moved along the mountain streams, the winds fluttering their cloaks.

They bore round shields and weapons, carrying short sticks in silence, like a group of steadfast moving boulders.

Reaching the summit, Hem scratched his beard and gazed into the distance at the Black Ridge Volcano.

Even though a thousand years may be long, it’s ultimately not enough to totally alter the eternal landscape.

Marked by the presence of the distant active volcano, the Captain of the Forge Guard could always find the right path and direction.

Those proud sons of Omlos would never get lost in the mountains.

Hem turned his head, checking the dozens of companions crossing the peaks to ensure no one had accidentally fallen behind, while scanning back at the miner machinery.

These items, which weren’t all that precious in the past, are now irreplaceable once they break.

Having carefully accounted for all the people and machines, he continued to forge ahead.

Once they crossed the vast distance, leaving behind the borders of the realm known to the world today as “Orland,” Hem sent back the guides who helped them find their way.

Considering that the carts and horses could no longer be taken into the mountains, he simply gave away the horses and carts he bought with hard-earned money to the Felu people who had helped him along the way as gratitude.

Activating the miners to replace the carts for carrying luggage and food, he continued leading his companions deeper into the North, searching for traces of their fellow clansmen.

For several days, they traversed mountains, but unfortunately, the locations remembered in their minds had long since turned to ruins eroded by the wind, showing no signs of clan life.

The experiences in Felu society, alongside seeing their kindred’s abandoned fortresses with their own eyes, inevitably dampened the spirits of everyone in the group.

In a bustling world where they couldn’t find traces of their people, they felt like a group of exiles abandoned by time, with no place to call home.

Yet Hem did not give up, and the group’s faith was unwavering.

Although they did not see their compatriots on the surface, it didn’t mean there were none underground.

Perhaps their people had grown weary of the surface world’s hubbub and retreated to live underground instead.

Hem knew that even if cut off from the surface world, their tribe could completely sustain themselves underground, living and growing with the help of their cultivated underground crops and mushroom gardens.

The surface people wouldn’t realize the vastness and complexity of the subterranean tunnel network that the Helarnians had excavated and constructed over millennia…

Struggling onward, Hem and his party, for an unknown number of times, retraced their steps from impassable collapsed paths, gradually advancing towards the location of what was once the largest Helarn city they remembered, “Steel Furnace Castle.”

Thankfully, besides the steep mountain roads, only a wild scorpion-tailed lion mistaking them for a herd of goats posed any real danger to these sons of the earth.

Surprised that this beast dwelling in the mountain wilderness, unseen for a millennium, was foolish enough to think a group of traveling Helarnians were prey.

The dwarves were unceremonious, naturally, and raised their Molten Fire Pistols to fire.

With splashes of blood and a few solid hits, the pained scorpion-tailed lion flapped its bat-like wings and retreated upon realizing its mistake, turning away from those strange “goats” that sprayed fire and roared.

“…This blind bastard, if I had the time, I’d stake out your lair and cook you up,” Hem spat heartily, inserting the handgun back into his belt and hefting his battle axe at the fleeing scorpion-tailed lion.

Continuing on their journey, they finally arrived the next day at the Helarn Ancient City, where the ancient grand structures were still visible.

Surveying the desolate city that spoke volumes of times past, the dwarves entered the ruins, buoyed by their previous experience, wasted no time, and headed straight through the grand road towards the ancient colossal gate embedded in the mountains leading underground.

Yet halfway there, the party made an inspiring discovery.

As highly observant craftsmen, the dwarves noticed traces like removed collapsed statues being cleared away…

and the residual footmarks on the grand road, instantly lifting Hearts and spirits.

With short legs moving quickly, they dashed to the vicinity of the giant gate and looked up at the towering mountain gate carved with the ancestors of the dwarves.

….The degree of dust here differed greatly from other places, and the edges of the entrance bore significant wear, indicating that even in the present era, it was opened and closed frequently!

“Haha!!

There must be other clansmen here!”

The loneliness of over a month dissipated, each dwarf raised their arms, laughing loudly, and embraced each other tightly, filled with a sense of belonging upon finding family.

But after the cheers of celebration, as laughter gradually died down, they stared blankly at the giant gate, their faces bearded but unable to hide their embarrassment.

They found it, but what next?

They hadn’t anticipated finding traces of their clan but facing a tightly closed mountain gate.

Typically, the entrances connecting the surface city, the underground city, and the subterranean network are not easily closed unless facing adverse wartime conditions.

And as the second line of defense against surface dangers in dwarf fortresses, no one knows better than themselves how difficult it is to open a Heraen mountain gate closed from the inside from the outside.

This massive gate, seemingly a part of the mountain itself, wouldn’t even flinch at their own siege cannons, and the magic-resistant structure behind the door shielded against most destructive spells.

Not to mention that a mining team like theirs would be unable to budge it with even a full army.

Hem recalled boasting to outsiders in drunkenness like he was playing hand bells.

…No one!

Understands defense!

Better than the Helarnians!

Well, now it was his turn to stand frustrated and anxious.

“Set up camp nearby, we have ample food and water, maybe someone from Steel Furnace Castle will come up to open the door,” he suggested helplessly, having thought of no other solution.

But if they were to wait indefinitely, they’d have to try finding any remaining uncollapsed mines nearby to find a path to Steel Furnace Castle through the tunnels.

Though even with the mountain gate closed, the underground city must have secret passages leading to the surface for internal enemy scouting…

but they were outside and unfamiliar with these secrets, unable to open them from the outside even if found.

“What a rock-stuffed valley, shutting a mountain gate senselessly when there’s no bird shit around and no war,” everyone grumbled, puffing up their beards.

In their memories from a thousand years ago, the last time all fortress mountain gates remained tightly closed was several centuries ago when the Demon Dragon arrived in the world.

However, as they discussed while unloading luggage from the miner machines,

the ground suddenly began to shake incessantly, and the enormous dwarf mountain gate rumbled open inwardly.

The dwarves quickly set down their bags, turning around with eyes and noses beaming with enthusiasm from underneath their beards.

Hem clapped his hands and grinned broadly, realizing the situation.

Surely they’d been spotted by the underground sentinels as they entered the ruins.

Eager to reunite with their clansmen long unseen in this era, everyone quickly entered the slowly widening gap of the mountain gate.

Yet the sight awaiting them beyond the gate stopped them in their tracks, illuminated by the tunnel torches.

It was indeed their kindred.

But the grandeur awaiting these few unknown travelers was overwhelmingly ceremonious.

In the vast tunnel behind the gate, lined up on both sides, were near a thousand dwarf warriors donning fine steel armor with crested helmets.

A massive Molten Flame dragon beast stood on four legs at the center of the dwarf army, its fearsome dragon head fixed on the group.

The spined back, full of scales and spikey fins, supported a throne above which sat an elderly Helarnian in regal robe armor of kingship.

Hem looked at the other, recognizing the vestments of the King of Herarn, but also certain that the person on the Molten Flame dragon’s back was not “Uvgaard.”

“Welcome, distant travelers, fellow clansmen.

I am the Barbarian Slayer, Gao Limu·Rysk, the Sixth King of Steel Furnace Castle.

Tell me, from where have you come?

My despicable ‘Wilderness’ kinsmen surely couldn’t possess the ancestral artifacts you bear…”

With a voice like a great bell, Gao Limu surveyed the tripod machinery reported by the sentinels behind the party.

Suppressing a slight excitement, he held onto the axe-hilt as he stood, asking with majesty yet warmth: “Could it be that for centuries there still exists an enclave of our people on the continent with whom we have yet to make contact?”