Chapter 331: Help Me Out

"Dugan? That damned fellow, he outright refused my orders!" Mentioning Dugan Ironhand, Bellegar couldn't hide his irritation. "Yes, that's him. He openly opposed my plan to reclaim the Eight Peaks. When he saw I wouldn't listen, he took a group and left. And now he's ended up here? I have some scores to settle with him!"

"Bellegar!" Queen Komanik angrily spoke to her husband, "I think Dugan was right! You had neither the army's size nor the assurance of victory for that expedition. Dugan made it very clear to you, but you wouldn't listen, and look, the expedition failed, squandering decades of accumulation! We have to start all over again. Aren't you proud of that?"

Seeing his queen angered, Bellegar's tone softened, a touch of guilt in his voice, "Komanik, that's not what I meant. I mean... I want to find Dugan to ask for his opinion and advice. Reclaiming the Eight Peaks is a mission for our entire clan. I'm sure Dugan would want to help us, to offer some advice."

Bellegar had always been somewhat afraid of his wife, not because he had wronged her, but because she had endured decades of hardship with him, and his wealth was now depleted. He felt a profound sense of guilt towards her.

"That's more like it," Komanik calmed down. She paused, then continued, "Bellegar, you should send someone to that famous human hero, Earl Ryan Macado's territory to find Dugan. For the sake of our ancestors, he should help us. At the very least, he'll offer some advice. And maybe... he could even introduce us to Earl Macado. Perhaps the power of the dwarves alone isn't enough to reclaim the Eight Peaks."

"No! Dwarves do not seek help from weak humans!" Bellegar's stubborn pride surfaced again as he blustered, "This is a dwarf matter!"

Immediately, Queen Angland asked, "Bellegar, can you defeat the Great Daemon of Nurgle?"

"I... I could probably chop off its tongue!" Bellegar replied, somewhat sheepishly.

"Could you kill 'Red Eye' Egil?" Komanik pressed on.

"I... I wouldn't be easily defeated!" Bellegar continued to be defiant.

"And you think you can defeat Earl Ryan Macado?"

"Of course I... uh... well." Bellegar instinctively wanted to claim he was stronger than Ryan but realized he had fallen into his wife's trap, "I... I understand. I'll send for Dugan to come here."

Bellegar, despite his fallen state, was still recognized as the king of the Angland clan, a position of dignity. He wouldn't lower himself to meet Dugan directly but would command Dugan to come to him.

An Oathguard with Bellegar's letter departed from Karak-Windfort to Earl Glamorgan's domain, delivering the message to Dugan Ironhand. The letter didn't mention "defeat" or "Eight Peaks" at all; it merely stated that his king was now at Windfort, and he should come to see his king.

Engineer Dugan received the letter and, without hesitation, left his work, gathered his friends including Sven Novigrin, the Slayersmith, and about thirty dwarves. They borrowed several wagons from their human allies, loaded with food, goods, and many fine Elven items, and set off for Windfort.

After showing Ryan's pass, Dugan and his party passed through the Bastonne and Montfort duchies, finding their way into the mountains.

Although relations between Brittany and the dwarves were passable, Montfort and Paravon's relations with Windfort's dwarves were strained, especially Montfort, which relied on tariffs from the Axe Bite Pass for its fiscal balance. For Duke Fulcard of Montfort, the presence of Windfort's dwarves was puzzling.

Fulcard's stance was clear: this was the Grey Mountains, the border between Brittany and the Empire—Brittany to the west, Empire to the east, clear and simple.

What was a dwarf territory doing in the mountains?

Fulcard had attempted several negotiations with Windfort's dwarves, demanding their allegiance or at least servitude, arguing that since the founding of Brittany by the first Knight King Arthur, the Bretonnians had undoubtedly been the sovereigns of this land, with the Grey Mountains to the west being an inseparable part of sacred Brittany. Duke Fulcard issued strong diplomatic protests to King Rorek of Windfort.

The dwarves told Fulcard that they had settled here 5,000 years ago and that Windfort had always been an inseparable part of the dwarven kingdoms.

 They even had a 7,000-year-old inscription from a dwarven expedition to prove it. Did the Bretonnians want to see it?

Or if they truly objected, they could resolve it through force: let fists talk!

Seeing the daunting mountain paths and the dozens of cannons on the dwarven fortress, the Bretonnians decided it was better to continue issuing strong protests.

Thus, the relations between Montfort and Windfort's dwarves remained poor, and Paravon was no different. When Cassonne fought with the Empire, these dwarves of Windfort chose to aid the Empire.

As the situation grew complex, with clear hostility but neither side daring to initiate conflict, Dugan and Sven chatted casually on their slow wagon journey up the mountain path. Nearly a day later, they arrived at Windfort.

At that time, Bellegar was inspecting his clan's camp.

Hundreds of Angland clan's Oathguards, composed of Ironbreakers and Hammerers, a company of about a hundred rangers, over a hundred miners, and a few non-combatant women and youth dwarves still followed Bellegar.

The King of the Eight Peaks, accompanied by his chief engineer Harhalaf and the captain of the Oathguard, Torek, entered the designated building.

The Angland clan dwarves, dressed in tattered clothes and unkempt beards, looked pallid as they sat in groups, boiling water and eating bread. Many were injured, their wounds crudely bandaged, still bleeding or festering.

Rorek sent food and water, but medicine was scarce, clearly insufficient for the needs of the Angland clan.

The atmosphere in the hall was gloomy; most dwarves ate in silence, some whispered among themselves but fell silent upon seeing Bellegar, bowing their heads.

Seeing this, Bellegar's heart ached. He opened his mouth, his myriad thoughts condensing into a few words of comfort.

"Well done, lads, you've kept the dwarven pride."

"I've seen your courage along the way."

"It's alright, it's alright."

"Are you all okay, my kinsmen?"

Most dwarves responded, "It's alright, my king, we did what we had to."

Still, their destitution was evident to Bellegar, who pursed his lips and closed his eyes, saying nothing.

After consoling the dwarves, Queen Komanik returned to Bellegar, "Bellegar, we need more food. Bread alone isn't nutritious. We need fresh vegetables, meat, and malt beer, plus medicines. Otherwise, many injured warriors will be weakened even if they recover, and the children won't grow properly."

Bellegar turned pale upon hearing this, pulling his wife aside, "But how can I ask? Rorek has already provided us with shelter and food. How can I shamelessly ask for more beer, vegetables, and meat? Rorek and his kingdom have already been more than generous. We can't continue to be so shameless; the dwarves of Windfort need to eat too!"

"But you can't let our people suffer just because of your pride!" Komanik retorted angrily.

"Give me some time, Komanik. Let me think about what to do." Bellegar's head throbbed, "I still have a bit of money. Can we trade with the humans nearby?"

Just then, a loud voice boomed from the hall's entrance, filled with unstoppable pride: "My king, I hear you need help?"

The sound of hooves and wagon wheels approached the hall's door, which swung open, the flickering firelight revealing that guests had arrived.

Dugan sat atop a wagon, his face brimming with a smile. Six or seven wagons rolled into the hall, laden with food and the much-needed supplies for Bellegar. The dwarves aboard greeted their kinsmen cheerfully, generously distributing the goods to the Angland clan.

The scene quickly became lively. The dwarves of the Angland clan swarmed the wagons, collecting the supplies. These battle-worn soldiers finally felt a hint of warmth.

"It's Dugan! It's him! Our kinsman!"

"He's brought us things!"

"There's malt beer in the barrels!"

"Fresh vegetables! Smoked meat! So much stuff!"

"That's barley bread!"

"Bags full of wheat and barley flour!"

The dwarves of the Angland clan were overjoyed, seeing their kin in fine clothes, who laughed as they kindly handed over various materials. Many dwarves couldn't help but weep.

Dugan jumped down from the wagon and bowed before Bellegar, "My king, Engineer Dugan Ironhand presents his respects to you and brings what aid I can."

"Oh, Dugan! Thank you so much; you've relieved our urgent needs!" Bellegar exhaled deeply, moving to Dugan

, tears in his eyes, patting his shoulder hard: "It seems you're doing well here?"

"Indeed, my king, we've found a new home here, and everyone is living well," Dugan said, looking at the dire state and grateful gazes of his kin, sighing deeply. He knew the third expedition to the Eight Peaks had failed again, "My king, how may I assist you further?"

Bellegar, face flushing, hesitated, then pulled Dugan aside, "Dugan, I truly need your help."

"Speak, my king."

...…

Meanwhile, at Earl Ryan Macado's castle, in the outer courtyard.

"Raah-la-la~" The little hippogriff, Empress, was rolling on the grass in the courtyard. The weather was delightful, and Empress, much like a large dog, was frolicking with Ryan's mount, the pureblood elf warhorse Grape, and the unicorn Sylfane.

In the gazebo, the Lady of the Lake, Morgiana, the sorceress Teresa, and Ryan were sipping juice, watching the little hippogriff dart about. Ryan smiled, "Empress seems to be growing well."

Teresa, head bowed, had just been reprimanded by Morgiana for her Gothic language homework, and was a bit despondent in front of Ryan. As the religious leader of the nation, Morgiana was naturally blunt in her criticism.

Morgiana, having recovered slightly from her rest and regaining some of her magical abilities after reviewing Teresa's homework, watched the flying hippogriff with a cool expression, her lips barely moving: "Your new mount?"

"Not ready for the battlefield yet," Ryan shook his head, picking up the chilled juice on the table. "She'll need a few more years to grow."

"A few years... Ryan, have you considered endowing this little hippogriff with magical abilities?"

"What?! Magic?"

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