Night fell.

In the southern district of Green City, five hundred blades in diameter from the Golden Wheat Merchant Guild, stood an inn.

On the third floor, the innermost room after ascending the stairs, a small, somewhat spartan room.

A warm yellow magical lamp lit the interior.

Two dwarves clad in gray armor sat at a round oak table inside, their expressions extremely serious.

Long beards covered their entire faces, to the point that their eyes seemed almost buried under the thick facial hair.

Two long-handled warhammers, gleaming silver on one end with a sharp blade and flat on the other, inscribed with unknown patterns, rested beside them. The sheer weight of them had already cracked the wooden floor beneath.

The two sat by the table, but it was clear that the table, designed for humans, sat slightly high for them. What would normally reach the abdomen of a human now reached up to their chests.

Anakin Brutehammer stared intently at his stout, muscular companion wearing a horned helmet.

“Master Valen, can this human merchant Laurent be trusted?

Will the Crimson Mage Tower be tempted by the mithril vein? Will that Grand Mage launch a war against the Beastmen for the vein?”

Faced with the stream of questions, Valen Brutehammer shook his head, his deep voice muffled and grave.

“Prince Anakin, Laurent worked with us last year. Though most humans are cunning, this merchant has earned our trust.”

He paused, a thoughtful gleam flickering in his black eyes beneath his helmet.

“The master of the Crimson Mage Tower Li De Kachar, his family was once destroyed by the Beastmen. No one would pass up the chance to take revenge on an old enemy.

As for Grand Mage Spark, Prince Anakin, believe me, mithril veins are far more valuable than you think. No one can resist that kind of temptation.

If not for our entire clan being captured by those damned Beastmen, I would never have revealed this precious mithril vein.”

As he said this, a surge of anger rose within the sturdy dwarf, and he slammed his hand heavily onto the table in front of him.

With a loud crack, the thick oak table shattered under the tremendous force.

The scene became a mess.

But then Valen suddenly began coughing violently, a streak of crimson appearing at the corner of his mouth, it was clear he was already injured.

Seeing this, the young dwarf Anakin’s expression turned grim, a trace of regret in his eyes.

“This is all my fault. If I had managed our clan’s external trade better, those Beastmen would never have discovered us.”

“No, Prince Anakin, this is not your fault. The Beastmen must’ve long been aware of our trade with the outside world. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have been able to mobilize their army and attack our clan so quickly.

You need not blame yourself, we still have a greater mission to fulfill.”

Valen shook his head and began encouraging the young dwarven prince. “A mithril vein is a temptation no one can refuse. I believe no one can resist it!

As long as they are interested in the mithril vein, they must send troops to crush the Beastmen army.”

Anakin’s eyes began to brighten upon hearing this. The mithril vein was not far from the dwarven clan. If the Beastmen weren’t driven out, no one could mine the ore.

But he still looked puzzled. “Master Valen, why don’t we go directly to the Transcendent in Green City? If they took action, the Beastmen wouldn’t be a problem.”

Valen shook his head, his eyes filled with a complexity Anakin couldn’t understand.

“If the Transcendent acts, then the mithril vein will truly have nothing to do with us anymore.”

Valen didn’t elaborate further. “You’ll understand these things later. Believe me, even if a Transcendent is willing to help, things won’t necessarily turn out better.”

If a Transcendent got involved, it would mean absolute power crushing everything. While the Beastmen might be driven out, the dwarves would likely be pushed out as well.

If the partner was relatively weaker, the dwarves might still get a share of the unmined mithril.

Though the situation was dire now, the Beastmen hadn’t massacred the dwarves after conquering the clan. Instead, they intended to enslave them, forcing them to forge weapons.

That was exactly why Valen hadn’t rushed to mobilize everything to rescue the clan.

In the short term, the clansmen wouldn’t be in mortal danger, so why not try to secure more benefits?

As a dwarf who had lived for three hundred years, Valen knew there was no such thing as reason in Glory. If one wanted to survive and live better, one could only seize more resources.

And the value of a mithril vein was worth a certain price.

Even if it meant the entire dwarven clan paying that price.

If a Transcendent intervened, all of this would be out of their hands, and even the fate of the dwarves would no longer belong to them.

That was why he had gone to such lengths to plan around the Crimson Mage Tower. But these reasons were not things he intended to tell the young dwarven prince.

At only sixty years old, just barely an adult by dwarven standards, the prince was still young. If he learned of all this, he might not be willing to accept it.

Sacrificing the clan for profit, in the eyes of the young, that was certainly evil and unacceptable. But the survival of a race was never that simple.

Anakin, seeing Valen unwilling to say more, could only nod dejectedly.

Valen was the master smith of the Brutehammer Clan and one of the most respected figures in the clan. Although Anakin was the patriarch’s son, he could only obey the master.

“Master Valen, will Mors be in danger? After all, he’s negotiating with a human merchant. If the human tries to go back on the deal, Mors is only Level 9, he won’t be able to escape.”

“Danger? Anakin, danger exists everywhere. Don’t let fear stop you from doing what must be done.

For the sake of the clan, even if it means sacrifice, I believe Mors wouldn’t hesitate.”

Valen’s eyes held a trace of kindness. He had watched this young dwarven prince grow up and had always considered him his disciple.

A compassionate and kind-hearted prince was undoubtedly preferable to one with a violent disposition.

If the dwarven clan was entrusted to him in the future, Valen would be at ease. However, Anakin was still too young and saw the world too simply. He was far from ready to lead a clan.

“Child, the moment Mors stepped forward to make contact with humans, he had already decided he would not return alive,” Valen decided to give the young prince another lesson.

“Huh? Why?!”

“Why? Because that was Mors’ choice. You’ve always lived within the dwarven clan and don’t understand just how alluring a mithril vein is to humans.

It’s no exaggeration to say that a mithril vein to humans is like forging an artifact is to dwarves.

It’s an irresistible temptation, more corrupting than a demon’s seduction.

If humans can’t resist the temptation and decide to detain him for interrogation, Mors would instantly tear apart the magic scroll he traded from humans and perish together with them.”

Anakin opened his mouth to say something, but seeing the cold glint in Valen’s eyes, he deflated with a sigh.

He had always been sheltered in the clan, immersed in forging weapons. While he understood the world was cruel, having such stark realities laid bare in front of him made him extremely uncomfortable.

“Hah, that’s quite true. Your dwarf was certainly brave. But I didn’t give him time to tear up that scroll.”

Just then, BOOM! The door exploded open, and a shower of wood splinters flew through the air.