Black Mountain was the young master of a dwarf clan. At thirty years old, he had just reached adulthood, given that the average lifespan of a common dwarf was around two hundred years.
From a young age, he exhibited extraordinary talent. He could even discern the quality of ores within raw stones merely by smelling them.
His father told him that he was destined to become the next Dwarf King.
In their world, a Dwarf King had not emerged for 500 years.
But just as Black Mountain took up his father’s hammer, barely having time to warm it with use, a group of slave catchers stormed in.
They did not kill many; instead, they subdued the clansmen with overwhelming force. The elite blacksmiths of the clan, including Black Mountain, were taken away.
Their journey was harsh and disorienting, leading them through various places.
During the journey, the slave catchers used a combination of domestication, coercion, and temptation, but most importantly, they controlled the dwarves’ lives with a slave contract. Obeying meant survival, not just for them but for their clansmen.
They were promised that obedience might lead to being valued by wizards, benefiting their entire clan.
Then they were taught knowledge and language.In the past few days, Black Mountain had forced himself to learn as much as he could.
The slave catchers were incredibly harsh, quick to beat and curse at the slightest dissatisfaction.
Black Mountain couldn’t understand why some of these beings, also once captives, now served the wizards so faithfully.
Three days later, Black Mountain and his companions arrived at their destination, a place said to hold slaves. Here, he saw many powerful beings, some so imposing that their mere presence made him tremble.
Among them, he even saw a legendary Dwarf King.
Filled with reverence, Black Mountain approached the Dwarf King, hoping to gain some guidance.
But the Dwarf King, who spent his days in drunken stupor, merely burped and said, “Since you’re already here, abandon any other thoughts. Serve your future master well. Pray he values your blacksmithing skills rather than using you as experimental material.”
Experimental material?
Black Mountain thought of the ores hammered and forged by the dwarves. Could they, too, be used as raw materials?
Hearing this, Black Mountain felt dazed and confused.
In dwarven legends, the Dwarf King was an omnipotent being.
They were powerful and invincible, leading the dwarves to one glory after another.
But the Dwarf King he saw here was nothing like that, resembling a broken wild dog lying by the roadside.
Looking at Black Mountain’s departing back, the Dwarf King, lying on the grass, looked up at the sky with cloudy eyes, his hand holding a jug from which the liquor spilled onto the ground. ŗÅɴꝊ𐌱Ёs
Returning to his clansmen, seeing their expectant eyes, Black Mountain couldn’t bring himself to relay the Dwarf King’s harsh words. But even such a powerful being had become a slave. How could he possibly lead his people out of this predicament?
Black Mountain felt a wave of despair.
After much hesitation, he finally relented, “He said we should work hard.”
Encouraged by Black Mountain, the dwarves began diligently learning the language of the wizards on the Continent of Vanquished Gods.
Because of his status and strong learning ability, Black Mountain quickly gained respect among the other dwarves. Within a few days, he had already learned some basic conversational skills. Consequently, the slave catchers temporarily appointed him as the leader of these dwarves.
A few days later, Black Mountain saw a young, handsome human being escorted in. The slave catchers, who usually treated the dwarves harshly, suddenly became obsequious in the presence of this human.
Soon, Black Mountain and the others were informed that they had been sold to the wizard before them, who was now their master.
The slave contracts were transferred to Lynn, making him the one who could determine their life and death with a single thought.
Black Mountain and the others were led away, following this human.
Uncertain of Lynn’s character, the hundred or so dwarves stood silently, afraid to speak.
“My name is Lynn, and I am your new master. My rules are simple: I give tasks, and you complete them. As long as you finish your tasks, there will be no problems. Rest assured, these tasks will be the blacksmithing work you are skilled at,” Lynn told the valuable group of dwarf slaves.
The dwarves in front of him lowered their heads and responded in a disorganized chorus, acknowledging their new master’s instructions.
Lynn had spent the past few days in his laboratory and only today found the time to take charge of his new dwarf slaves. Thanks to the care provided by the Silver Wing Merchant Guild, the dwarves appeared to be in good spirits.
Holding a list in his hand, Lynn glanced over the names. To his surprise, the group included a third-level dwarf heavy knight by the wizards’ standards and a high-quality dwarf with partial atavistic Dwarf King blood.
Returning to his residence, Lynn assigned the dwarves to rooms on the second floor.
“Who is Black Mountain?” Lynn asked.
“I am,” Black Mountain stepped forward from the crowd of dwarves.
Lynn observed him, a flicker of surprise crossing his eyes. Unlike the other dwarves, who looked like masses of muscle growing sideways, Black Mountain’s appearance was undoubtedly very “out of place”.
He had clean, refined features, silver-gray curly hair, and a small silver-gray beard on his chin. Most notably, his muscles were not exaggerated but well-proportioned. Despite his height of only 1.5 meters, he still looked quite striking.
The booklet mentioned that Black Mountain had been tested by the slave catchers and found to possess some atavistic Dwarf King blood. This meant he had the bloodline of an ancient Dwarf King, and with proper nurturing, he might actually become a new Dwarf King.
“Who is Graystone?” Lynn continued.
The remaining dwarves all looked toward the most robust dwarf in their midst.
This dwarf stood nearly 1.6 meters tall.
While dwarves were generally shorter than humans, their height was not drastically different. Normal dwarves ranged from 1.3 to 1.5 meters tall.
They were called dwarves because of their naturally muscular build. Even without much training, they grew into adulthood with strong, developed muscles. The horizontally growing muscles, combined with their shorter stature, made them appear even shorter.
“I am Graystone,” the named dwarf stepped forward, his voice deep and resonant.
“I heard that in your dwarf clan, your names don’t belong to you but to the clan?” Lynn asked.
“That’s correct,” Graystone replied.
His father was called Graystone, and his grandfather was also named Graystone. So, when it came to his generation, he too was named Graystone.
Lynn nodded.
“I will select a group of you dwarves who are most skilled in forging, and then another group who excel in combat. Black Mountain, you will manage the forgers. As for those skilled in combat, they will be managed by him,” Lynn said, pointing to Lauren who stepped out from behind him.
The dwarves’ expressions shifted slightly as they looked at Lauren. Would they really be managed by a lizard-man?
A hot-tempered dwarf was about to speak up, but Graystone stopped him.
After giving his instructions, Lynn left. He still had experiments to conduct as part of his daily task, and if he delayed any further, he would run out of time.
These dwarves had just arrived, and being bought, there was undoubtedly some resistance in their hearts.
To prevent them from banding together and also to provide an opportunity for Lauren, Lynn decided to give Lauren a chance.
Lauren, having undergone transformation, might find it challenging but not impossible to handle a third-level dwarf heavy knight. The strength of a dwarf heavy knight lay significantly in its mount, and without it, a knight was much less formidable. If Lauren couldn’t handle a knight without a mount, Lynn would have to reconsider this opportunity.
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