Chapter 156

Pe Riyuro didn't hate dwarves like most of his people. To him, they were like rocks that had to be tunnelled through. They were simply 'in the way' that is why they had to die. 'There can only be one King under the mountain.' He recalled the thought when he decided to have the dwarves wiped out. The early success in capturing a few dwarven prisoners and using them to learn agriculture and other useful arts had only solidified his fundamental view.

'They're more of a threat to us than dragons.' Had he ever said that aloud, he would have been laughed at without a doubt, but he was certain he was right. The dragons were stronger, but by the nature of their bodies they simply couldn't 'make' anything for themselves. They 'needed' the quagoa to procure the things they wanted. Even if they oppressed the quagoa, they wouldn't eliminate his race.

But there was nothing the dwarves could not make for themselves, and so the quagoa were not needed. Had they the power to do it, the dwarves would have wiped his people out to get at ores just the same as he'd been doing to them.

So trudging toward his enemy didn't bring up the same visceral hatred that it did for the rest of his migrating people.

When the Great Rift, and the guarding fortress, finally came into view, he was the only one to feel relief. What he knew of the dwarves was that they were pragmatic. 'They need allies, so do we.' He thought, as much to reassure himself as for anything else.

So, he stepped farther away from his people and held his hands up. The fortress was not unimpressive, but it held only a few hundred dwarves, his scouts in the days when he'd been planning the assault had all assured him of that much. 'A result of their steep decline in numbers, no doubt.' He mused, but it was still a fortress and would leave a fair number of dead or wounded even when lightly defended.

The lightning weapons the dwarves used had caused many brutal injuries in the past, 'I wonder how many we would have lost taking it if Jaldabaoth had not come?'

The question would never be answered, which meant, he reassured himself again, 'We're now on the same side, they have to see that, this foreigner must… that offers a chance for reason even if the dwarves decide to be less than pragmatic this time…'

With his hands up as high as he could hold them, the fortress defenders were obviously still nervous. They were shuffling about, and voices filled with alarm carried all the way to where he stood.

But Pe Riyuro did not panic, his breath caught, and he took another step closer, "S-S-Stop right there!" The voice at the top of the fortress shouted.

Pe Riyuro obeyed but shouted back, hoping his headdress would make it obvious he was in a position of authority. "I am Pe Riyuro, ruler over all the quagoa! I want to speak with the foreign King, the enemy of the Demon Emperor Jaldabaoth!"

The dwarf must have been taken aback by this, as he neither spoke nor struck, and for a more than uncomfortable moment, silence held between them.

"All the quagoa are with you?!" The dwarf's pitch went up an octave higher.

"All those still alive, yes!" Pe Riyuro shouted back, he looked up at the high tower, doing his best not to look behind him at the hopeless followers who were only slightly in view. "We suffered terrible losses, but what we have left will fight with you!"

"I-I can't make this decision! W-Wait there, we will send for the King's word!"

"Then let me… and one other, go with you!" Pe Riyuro shouted, 'The dwarves would probably prefer we die without ever crossing the bridge. If I can speak ruler to ruler…'

"A-Alright! Just you and one other! S-Stay there, we'll send someone down now!"

"Hurry!" Pe Riyuro shouted back, slowly lowering his hands as he did. "Jaldabaoth may not be far behind us!"

That sent shouts of alarm throughout the fortress, the ones who thought themselves least likely to face the wrath of the Demon Emperor, now found themselves potentially bearing the brunt of it.

"Bring out Quadwar!" Pe Riyuro shouted behind him loud enough that only his aides could properly hear him.

Quadwar was spared from the horrified looks of his people by being allowed to 'ride' in concealment in one of the few small wagons, more like a three legged wheelbarrow than anything else, carried where he had to be, and riding where he could. Almost none of his people had seen the unfortunate bothling that had somehow survived the horrific experimentation.

'If this doesn't make for a compelling argument, we're all as good as dead!' Pe Riyuro told himself and waited while a few aides rushed the little barrow like wagon over until it was well out of sight of their population at large.

"We will go alone from here." Pe Riyuro said as they fell in at his back and helped Quadwar out of his place and get his feet on the floor.

He looked over his shoulder, "If I don't come back… attack. There's no hope left for us, so let the dwarves be as weak as possible when Jaldabaoth comes for them. There's no survival if we don't make it through this, and I don't plan on us dying alone."

They gave grim nods to their chief and clenched their fists.

The dwarven head of Quadwar however, piped up, "I don't know anything about a foreign King, but my council is smart enough to know the danger, and if they're not, I'll make them see… a look at us…"

The quagoan head spoke, "...And they will clamber to be our allies and dance for the privilege."

"You'd both better be right… I don't want to die at all, let alone in such a stupid way." Pe Riyuro replied, and they began the long awkward walk as soon as a dwarf guide emerged.

The dwarf guide took one look at Quadwar and bent over to retch.

"Jaldabaoth's handiwork." Quadwar answered the vomit with a stoic explanation.

The dwarf fell to the ground shaking, and Pe Riyuro understood that at least, "Yes, that is why we're here, we fight together or die apart."

The dwarf began not a walk, but a jog toward the long bridge over the Great Rift, though its metal cables creaked and the narrow bridge swayed, it held firm.

Quadwar grabbed both sides and made his curious quick hopping motion after the chief, while Pe Riyuro did the same in a slow, steady walk so as not to greatly outpace the crippled bothling.

Reaching the far end took much longer than it would have during any kind of fight, no charge of glory against the last of his enemies, no attack on the gate, no final struggle or moment of triumphant anticipation ahead as the distant gate of the dwarven walls came into view.

'This is not how things were supposed to go!' Pe Riyuro cursed, his people were supposed to dominate the mountain in fact if not in name, grow strong, overthrow the dragons, and one day, range upon range should have been their own.

The fantasy of his youthful dreams was now a shattered ruin, like broken glass he sometimes found in the rich dwarven homes, scattered into countless pieces.

All he could do was pick up the pieces and try to make 'something' out of whatever structure remained, and hope it gave the quagoa a better life than before.

He clenched his jaw while their escort ran ahead shouting unintelligibly, and the gates eventually groaned open.

Pe Riyuro watched a figure emerge, whatever it was, it definitely wasn't a dwarf, far too tall, and it rode on a relatively small dragon.

'That can only be Hejinmal… so he lived after all, I assumed he died with his father.' Pe Riyuro felt at least some relief that 'someone' known to him was approaching. Though most of the quagoa chief's dealings were with the patriarch of the clan, Hejinmal had never been hostile, and they even shared a few favorable moments when Pe Riyuro asked about particular books that might help develop his people further.

Pe Riyuro swallowed as they came closer, the dragon's trot was steady, confident, 'Is that really Hejinmal? As dragons went, that one always seemed to slink around more than anything else…' Doubt crept in, but as he could make out the face better, it seemed to definitely be him, if a little bit fitter than before.

Finally there was no more time to doubt, the white and gold clad figure who towered over him like a monolith was up close. "I am Ainz Ooal Gown, King of Nazarick, master of the Frost Dragons, and King of the Dwarves."

'The voice…' It hammered at Pe Riyuro's soul as if it were authority manifested in sound itself, 'This is a King…'

But determined not to shame himself, he looked up and spoke, "I am Pe Riyuro, Chief of all the Quagoan Clans and… I hope, your ally." He turned to the side and gestured to Quadwar.

"This is Quadwar… a survivor of Jaldabaoth's experiments… and what we will all be if the Demon Emperor isn't stopped."

Ainz shuddered, but didn't vomit. 'Am I being case hardened to atrocities now?' He wondered, that wasn't a pleasant thought, but it seemed likely. But still, the body of dwarf and quagoa had been mutilated beyond all reason, one leg of each race, one arm, both heads on one body and sewn together down the middle.

"Majesty." Quadwar spoke in unison as if they shared a common mind. "We agree with each other, the Demon Emperor must be stopped. Neither of us want this for our people. Maybe it's too late for us… but we're the only 'bothling'. We survived by working together to escape the Demon Emperor's clutches and carry what we knew back to those who would fight him. If the quagoa, dwarves, dragons, and yourself all do as we've done… maybe we can win…"

Ainz looked the pathetic being over, 'I will have to have a talk with Demiurge about this… this is cruel… needlessly cruel… and the fault is mine for not properly containing his worst impulses…'

"It may be that you can be restored, and both survive." Ainz suggested, and both heads looked at him, open mouthed and with wild hope.

"Ninth tier healing magic should do the trick." Ainz proposed, and to his surprise, the bothling answered.

"Afterward. Let the dwarves see us… let the quagoa see us… once we're all together. If a look at me… us… doesn't convince them to fight together, nothing will." Quadwar pointed out insightfully.

"There is one problem." Ainz said, and focused on Pe Riyuro, "I never agreed to accept you as allies."

Pe Riyuro gasped, as did Quadwar.

"If I accept you as allies, the dwarves will always wonder when you will attack them again for control of the mountain. If I harbor you on equal standing, you might try to put yourselves above a race subordinate to me. It would be far more practical for me to simply leave you to Jaldabaoth to buy time for my subjects to strike in return. I am a King, I don't like a decision like that, but I must think in terms of costs and benefits, if the long term cost of an alliance is greater than a short term gain I can have anyway by doing nothing, what choice would you make?" Ainz shrugged before Pe Riyuro.

Pe Riyuro looked away from Ainz to the pitying face of the dragon, turned mount, and struck upon an idea.

"Hejinmal, did your relatives make it this far?" He asked.

"They did." The frost dragon answered.

"Are they living now?" Pe Riyuro asked.

"They are. They submitted to His Majesty as I have." Hejinmal replied, then added, "And as I advise you to do."

Pe Riyuro thought that over, "I thought you were dead."

"I was killed, but I lived." Hejinmal replied with an almost playful snort that expelled a small frosty fog from his nostrils.

"If I offer myself as a subordinate… my people submit to you, Your Majesty… what then?" Pe Riyuro recalled the words of those survivors whom this foreign King sent home. The world of possibility which lay ahead.

"Then you will stay in your part of the mountain until I can find a proper range to give to you as a homeland all your own. Until then, you will provide raw materials to the dwarves in exchange for goods and the knowledge you need to build the civilization Hejinmal has told me you aspire to create. We can work out the fine details later, but you will remain as the chief and be granted the same status as my other citizens." Ainz promised, "Kneel to me, and see your people rise."

Quadwar was not able to properly kneel, but Pe Riyuro could, and did, and wished only that he could have done so faster.

"Normally we would take more time about this… but I don't believe we have that, I need to know everything you know, and your people need to be armed, equipped, and told more of the history you both have lost… and why you cannot kill one another any longer." Ainz said, and then pointed past them to the Great Rift. "Go, get your people, bring them inside the walls, and we will prepare for the final fight against Jaldabaoth."

"As you command, your Majesty." Pe Riyuro whispered and rose to his feet again.

"Good, I will wait for you all within, the gates will remain open, you may count on that." Ainz promised. "Quadwar, come with me, the dwarves should see you first, it should wipe away any doubts they have." To both the shock of Quadwar and Pe Riyuro, the monarch held out a hand to the crippled and mutilated bothling, and helped him to get up on the dragon to ride behind the King himself.

It was a difficult effort, but Quadwar, moved by this compassion, struggled and flailed to leap over the side of the dragon's bowed neck and get into position. When he was, he clung to the white robes with both reverence and desperation.

Then the dragon rose up again, and when Ainz squeezed his thighs lightly against Hejinmal's scales, the mount began to wheel around to return to the last city under the mountain.