Inside the stonemason clan's hall, the firelight danced on Imar's face, highlighting his cold, hard features.
The dwarf chieftain stood up, his shadow stretching diagonally across the stone ground like an insurmountable boundary.
"Helson!" His voice was deep, yet each word was sharp and clear. "You come as an envoy, but with accusations. You are unwelcome by the Stonemasons' clan—leave my territory immediately."
He turned his gaze to Dain, his brow furrowed: "Although you come from the Ironhammer Clan, it is a grave mistake for you to bring a foreign race into our territory. You shall leave with us."
Dain's face darkened. He stepped forward, his beard trembling slightly. "Lord Imar, I understand your anger. But the mountain path is treacherous, and our supplies are exhausted. We cannot descend in the dark. For the sake of the Iron Hammer Clan Chief being your cousin, and for the sake of the old friendship between our two clans—please allow us to stay in the city for one night. We will set off immediately after the first rays of sunlight tomorrow."
The hall fell silent.
Imar stared at Dain for a long time before finally letting out a cold snort: "For my cousin's sake, I'll allow you to stay overnight. But you must leave at dawn!"
"Thank you for your kindness, Chieftain." Dain bowed his head in gratitude, though his tone was calm, he could not hide a trace of suppressed emotion.
The two were led out of the hall by guards and settled in a stone building in the city. The room was low, with a small fire burning in the fireplace, and the stone bed was hard, but it was already a rare treat.
After the guards left, Dain also went out for a while and didn't return for quite some time. When he pushed open the door, his face was deathly pale, and his thick fingers gripped the edge of his cloak tightly, as if he had just returned from a nightmare.
Helson, who was sitting by the fireplace polishing his sword, looked up when he saw this and asked, "Where have you been? What happened?"
Dain remained silent for a long time before finally sitting down and saying in a low, hoarse voice, "I went to the tavern, the Stonemasons' Clan's 'Anvil and Fire,' the locals' favorite place to chat. I sat there, listening to the tavern patrons boast..."
He looked up, his eyes filled with shock and pain: "From their words, we learned that the orc army did indeed cross the mountains through here. Imar even sent people to clear landslides and reinforce roads, just to allow Abar's elite troops to pass smoothly."
Helson's pupils contracted; he knew it!
"They also said…" Dain's voice was even lower, "Imar and Abar reached a deal—the orcs would help him purge his political enemies and solidify his position as chieftain; in return, he would provide them with access in exchange for spoils and priority mining rights to the mines."
Dain slowly shook his head, his voice trembling with a tremor rarely seen in dwarves: "I can't believe it, the Stonemasons' Clan has really broken the seclusion rule that has lasted for thousands of years, and Imar has actually sided with Abar!"
He suddenly stood up, his eyes resolute: "I must go back immediately. The Ironhammer Clan chieftain and the council of elders need to know the truth—a clan chieftain who colluded with the orcs, who betrayed the entire dwarven race."
Helson stared silently at the fire, his fingers tapping lightly on the table, his mind still calculating tomorrow's strategy.
"Perhaps…" he began slowly, his voice low and calm, "we can talk again. The Marquis didn't send me here to confront them. We want the Stonemasons Clan to stop siding with the orcs, even if it's just to restore their previous neutrality. I think if the conditions are right, he might consider cooperating with Lakeheart Town."
He looked at Dain: "Can I see him one more time? Even just a private meeting."
Dain Ironhand sat opposite him, holding an untouched glass of ale. Hearing this, he slowly shook his head.
His beard trembled slightly in the firelight. "Impossible." The dwarf's voice was deep, with an almost compassionate certainty. "You don't know Imar Stonefist. He is the hardest stone in the Stonemasons' Clan for five hundred years, valuing his reputation more than his life. He denied the cooperation with the orcs in front of the entire hall—in front of so many people, he said it was slander."
He looked up and stared directly at Helson: "Once he denies it, he will never admit it again, not out of the truth, but out of face."
Dain sighed, lowering his voice even further: "If you bring this up again, he'll only think you're forcing him to admit his mistake. He'll be even angrier and more wary. He might even throw you in the dungeon on charges of 'plotting something,' and then you won't be able to leave!"
Helson fell silent, the firelight flickering in his eyes, reflecting a hint of helplessness.
He had hoped to open a door through negotiation, only to find that there was no way out—just an impregnable stone wall built of pride and lies.
"So," he finally spoke, his voice calm, "we can only leave with the truth, but we cannot change it."
Dain nodded: "What we can do is bring all this back to the Ironhammer Clan and spread the word to the other clans about who is secretly colluding with the orcs."
At midnight, the mountain wind howled through the cracks in the rocks, and the fire in the inn had long since gone out, leaving only embers that glowed with a faint orange light.
Helson and Dain had just lain down fully clothed, their exhaustion not yet allowing them to drift into sleep, when a sudden knocking on the door shattered the silence like a war drum.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
It wasn't knocking, it was banging on the door.
The next instant, the heavy stone door was flung open, the jarring sound of breaking bolts echoing inside. A squad of dwarven guards from the Stonemasons Clan rushed in, their armor clanging, their battle axes drawn, and the torchlight flickering on their hardened faces.
The captain of the guards stood at the door, his voice like a hammer striking an anvil: "Solan Helson, Dain Ironhand! You have been reported for espionage, spying on our clan's secrets, and plotting to overthrow the Stonemasons Clan. Arrest them immediately!"
Helson suddenly stood up, his hand on the hilt of his sword, but was quickly subdued by two guards, his arms bound behind his back with thick iron chains.
Dain roared and stood up abruptly: "Absurd! I am an envoy of the Ironhammer Clan, how dare you arrest an envoy on such a baseless charge?"
"Ridiculous?" the captain scoffed. "Then what were you doing at the anvil and fire?"
Dain's eyes widened in anger. "Can't I go for a drink?" His beard bristled with rage. "You stonemason clan let the orc army pass through the mountains but dare not admit it! Now, fearing the truth will be revealed, you're using the charge of espionage to silence outsiders?"
He approached the captain step by step, roaring in a thunderous voice, "You are not warriors, you are cowards! A bunch of cowards who dare to do things but not to admit them!"
"Shut up!" the captain roared, his scars contorted with rage. He swung his fist and slammed it hard into Dain's jaw.
"Bang!" Dain's head tilted to the side, blood instantly spilling from the corner of his mouth. He swayed, but was held down firmly by the guards on both sides.
The captain punched him again in the stomach. Dain groaned and fell to his knees, the chains scraping against the stone floor with a grating sound.
"If you dare to slander the honor of the Stonemasons' clan again," the captain leaned down, gritting his teeth, "I won't just break your bones—I'll throw you into the furnace and turn your soul to ashes!"
The guards roughly dragged the two men up, the iron chains echoing coldly as they dragged across the stone ground.