Chapter 442 - Golden Anvil (2)
Golden Anvil, Ugumar.
The name of the clan leader of the Black Volcano, and a dwarf whose name remained in history, was mentioned.
Geradin fixed his gaze into the void, lips moving faintly as if submerged in distant memories of the past.
"I have never once seen the Golden Anvil. After all, before I was even born, the Black Volcano had already turned into a land of cold stone. But… it was as if I simply knew who he was, as though it were an awakening."
As his life was slowly being drained away, a foreign will intruded upon Geradin's inner self. It was something passed down from the roots.
A voice resounded in his mind—the thoughts of someone───the Golden Anvil.
At first, he believed it to be a hallucination, yet it was real.
Through the gaps in the tree roots binding his whole body, he cast a glance, and the dwarf whose mouth was comparatively free suddenly shouted, "Golden Anvil!!"
The coincidence of situation and action, that could not possibly have been mere chance.
"That strange phenomenon did not last long. Three minutes at most? Yet even so, we learned much… ah, no, I should not phrase it that way. To be precise, we came to know of the bizarre tree that had taken over the fortress. That was when we first heard its name, Soul Tree."
The nature of the Soul Tree, the weaknesses of the Soul Tree, the range of the Soul Tree's domain…
The Golden Anvil whispered detailed information about the massive abnormal species to Geradin and the rear reconnaissance squad who were trapped by the Soul Tree.
Verden asked.
"Was there no other conversation?"
"None at all. We could not even reply, we merely listened, one-sided. It could hardly be called a conversation."
Geradin downed the drink in his cup in one gulp.
When telling such a long story, nothing quenched thirst like alcohol, and the stronger, the better.
"Then, as if he had finished saying all he wished, suddenly the bindings loosened. The whispers ceased, but the meaning was clear. As if by mutual agreement, we fled at once, heading along the route that Golden Anvil had revealed, which led outside the Soul Tree's domain… it was truly a fierce struggle."
Though they succeeded in escaping the section where the Soul Tree's main body resided, pursuit came swiftly.
Those dreadful, white eyes.
They reproduced the appearances of the Black Volcano clan members, the 1st reconnaissance squad, and the 2nd reconnaissance squad who had been absorbed by the Soul Tree, wielding dwarf-forged weapons while shrieking ghostly cries.
"Many died."
Geradin said calmly.
"Truly, many died."
Heads burst and limbs were severed beneath the bolts raining from behind. More than a few dwarves were obliterated by the bombardments spewed from broken siege weapons.
It was better if they died instantly.
At least then, they would have perished with little pain.
Those who clung to life even briefly, the dwarves were hammered to death by those half-dead husks, their final screams echoing.
Amid such gruesome sights, Geradin ran, and ran again, pouring out every last ounce of strength to climb upward.
At last, he reached the section believed to be the entrance of the former fortress. Only after escaping entirely from the Soul Tree's domain did he perceive himself and his surroundings.
His forearm pierced by a bolt, his body ruined by blood and dust…
Of the rear reconnaissance squad, only four, including Geradin, remained alive.
They had numbered more than thirty at the start.
"Survival was hardly living. Though we had preserved our lives, there was no way to treat our injuries. Worse yet, we had nothing to eat… even at best, we might last four days. But then, it turned out the dwarves had not all died."
While staggering through a zone free of the Soul Tree's influence, nearly collapsing, Geradin's party discovered their kin.
Survivors of the Black Volcano clan, the 1st reconnaissance squad, and the 2nd reconnaissance squad.
Their number was in the hundreds, enduring the cold with the aid of several magical items.
Geradin tapped the floor of the village.
"Yes, it was here that we met. I heard that, unlike us, they had not been aided by the Golden Anvil, but had arrived here by sheer coincidence. While searching for a place to survive."
The resilience of dwarves, that was the beginning of the village.
Though they had escaped the clutches of the Soul Tree, other foes remained. Abnormal species wandering through the darkness without territory were a grave threat as well.
Nor was there any method to leave this prison of an abyss.
Thus the surviving dwarves turned this comparatively safe place into their stronghold.
They armed themselves with what weapons remained, rationed supplies to the extreme, scraped together remnants to build walls and raise structures.
By magical items, they created and maintained soil, planting and cultivating vegetables.
After forming the village, they elected a single chieftain to act as clan leader.
It was a harsh struggle.
Dwarven selfishness bred internal strife.
One chieftain, insisting the Soul Tree must be attacked, led troops in an assault, only to lose not just his own life but precious siege engines as well.
When a massive abnormal species attacked the village, dozens of dwarves were buried in graves as the price of slaying it.
In the end, the number of villagers dwindled to under one hundred, then fell close to half that.
"We stood at the very brink of ruin. That was when the position of chieftain fell to me. I was about fifty-four then, I think. I had little confidence… but there was no one else."
Geradin recalled the eyes of the dwarves as they had looked upon him back then.
"Yes, there was no one else. So I decided, unlike the other chieftains who had stirred up great undertakings, I would focus on one thing only. To survive. To keep them alive."
Somehow, endure today… such was his resolve.
And thus, the village came to be stable.
They could not eat their fill, nor could they enjoy delicacies, but they could at least see tomorrow.
Geradin smiled.
"In that way, we endured."
Over two hundred years had passed since then, yet Geradin still remained the chieftain.
***
"Well, that is how it happened."
Geradin drained his liquor with heavy gulps, bringing his tale to a close.
Amid the noisy background of sated dwarves clustered in groups all around, a heavy silence descended.
Linus had, if only indirectly, experienced the immensity of those years, and Gharun quietly ruminated on the kind of life Geradin had lived.
Alpha, concealed by the mini-golem's function, fixed his gaze on Geradin with apparent interest.
And Verden, was thinking about the more practical part.
'Golden Anvil released Geradin, huh.'
That would mean the clan leader of the Black Volcano had forcibly overridden the Soul Tree's actions?
Yet, while the Soul Tree could not move its roots, the white-eyed ones had chased Geradin's party, which meant there were limits.
Though there was little information to go on… it seemed evident that there was something between the Soul Tree of the underworld, cut off from the world, and the Golden Anvil.
There could be no such thing as coincidence here.
Geradin, now a little tipsy, hiccuped as he spoke.
"Ah! Now that I think of it, I forgot the most important thing. Brother, what brings you here all of a sudden? From what I heard earlier, it's not as if you were sent by the clan."
"Hmph, the clan, at this point? They gave up long ago, went so far as to curse the Black Volcano as a forsaken land, they won't even look this way."
Gharun wrinkled his nose.
"We came to the Black Volcano for the facilities. There's something we needed to make, something special."
"Facilities? What about the ones at the Red Volcano?"
"The clan leader won't allow it."
"After all the disasters you've caused, do you think he'd grant permission? If I were clan leader, I wouldn't just imprison you, I'd thrash you…"
Crunch.
As the master clenched his fist menacingly, the disciple promptly shut his mouth.
"Hahaha! Gharun's stubbornness has been infamous since he was a child. He was so tough that he even beat up his own elder brother."
Geradin rubbed the jaw that Gharun had struck earlier. Thanks to the potion, the swelling had subsided, but the throbbing still remained.
It was a welcome pain.
"But facilities, you say. I hate to say this, but you'd best give up."
"Why?"
"Because the facilities of the Black Volcano clan lie within the Soul Tree's domain. Directly behind the fortress where its main body is. If you go in, you'll die."
Before becoming chieftain, Geradin had once followed the then-chieftain's decision to try to subjugate the Soul Tree, in the hopes of escaping the abyss.
They had known its weaknesses.
And more than that, there had been a need to make contact with the Golden Anvil again.
They had to discover what had happened to the Black Volcano.
That was the duty of the reconnaissance squad.
The testimony of the last surviving clan member of the Black Volcano—"When the collapse began, Golden Anvil was making something in the facilities"—was the strongest basis for their actions.
In the end, they failed, unable to break through the army of white-eyed ones.
"Of course, the Soul Tree is weaker now than it was, deprived of nutrients… but even so, subjugation is utterly impossible. Gharun, no matter how strong you are."
"I know."
Gharun's strength was overwhelming, yet facing a special entity alone was impossible. After all, he was a blacksmith, not a warrior.
Pride aside, this was something even he admitted.
Especially with his massive hammer, Markuab—it was a poor match against the vast, wave-like roots of the Soul Tree.
"To deal with it, you'd need to bring the entire clan's army… and just transporting massive siege weapons underground would take at least several years. And that's assuming the clan leader agreed without hesitation."
In other words, impossible.
It would be far less costly, and perhaps even quicker than the clan could ever manage, to simply wait for the Soul Tree to wither on its own, Geradin declared.
But such common-sense judgment held no value here.
"Hmph, you think we came all the way to the bottom of the earth without a plan?"
"What?"
"We have a Transcendent with us."
Gharun pointed to Verden.
Though it was meant as a secret trump card, it was not wrong.
Geradin blinked.
"Transcendent? And what is that?"
He would soon find out.
***
Verden had set two goals.
First, do not destroy the fortress.
Second, secure the Soul Tree's main body without a scratch.
The former was to avoid causing any damage to the facilities… the latter, because of Ugumar, the one known as Golden Anvil.
He might still be alive.
'Though the chances are low.'
The Soul Tree had reached its full growth.
By the standards of the Adventurers' Guild, its threat level was equal to that of a special entity. To endure three hundred years inside such a monster would be no simple feat.
But that did not mean Ugumar's survival should be dismissed outright.
All that was needed was to confirm it.
...
Verden moved.
Though he had already left the dwarf village and descended deeper underground, there had been no ambushes like the one when he had encountered Marmal.
At last, reaching the floor where the fortress and citadel lay, Verden halted.
"They've gathered here."
Aaaaaaaaah───
Near the entrance, cluttered with obstacles, thousands of dwarves with rolling white eyes were arrayed in a disordered, irregular line.
Each one was armed as part of an army, with crossbows, hammers, axes, siege and defensive weapons.
And among them were abnormal species that had once served as sustenance.
Rumble rumble rumble…!
Behind them, colossal roots squirmed like tentacles.
A force prepared to block intruders.
Through it, many emotions could be felt.
Fear, dread, anticipation.
The starving Soul Tree regarded Verden both warily and hungrily.
If it consumed him, it felt instinctively, it would sate its hunger, and would not need to feed again for a long time.
Pathetic.
Verden sensed no danger from the Soul Tree, nor did he intend to.
Call it arrogance if one wished.
For a being of transcendent power, arrogance was a sin permitted.
Whoooosh!
Activating his mana circuits in full, the blue magic power overflowing from him surged outward, flaring like fire.
Seeing this, the Soul Tree's army shrieked, and activated the siege weapons.
Verden's magic, and the dwarves' technology of three hundred years past, the two collided.
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