Chapter 463 Aralond and Charkin

After a moment of thought,

Inasil formulated a plan.

"Fagu, go see that man again. Tell him we’re willing to lend our aid—but......"

Inasil’s eyes narrowed into slits.

"Make it clear that we’re taking a huge risk by doing this. He must cooperate fully with us~."

Fagu’s eyes lit up with understanding. He bowed quickly, a sly smile spreading across his face.

"Understood, my lord. I know exactly what to do. I’ll take care of it right away."

With that, Fagu left the tent without delay.

A short while later, Inasil also stood up.

He shot a cold glance at Hena, huddled in the corner, then let out a disdainful snort. He made no move to tend to her injuries, turning on his heel and walking out of the tent without a second thought.

For a long time, the only sound in the empty tent was Hena’s quiet, trembling breaths.

She remained curled up in the corner, her mind still trapped in the grip of terror, whispering the same phrase over and over again like a broken record.

"Hena will take the fortress. Hena will take the fortress. Hena will take the fortress......"

......

At Forgehold Fortress.

"ROAR——!"

A crimson dragon streaked across the sky, descending upon the fortress walls.

"Open the barrier!"

Once the dragon rider’s identity was confirmed, the long-active defensive barrier finally deactivated.

Though lifting the barrier meant exposing the fortress to potential attacks,

there was no longer any need to fear such threats.

"Form ranks!"

CLANG!

The crisp, synchronized clatter of armor rang out as the dwarven soldiers assembled in perfect formation.

Leading the welcoming party was the Shield Hero himself—Aralond, the wielder of the Holy Shield.

"On behalf of the dwarven people, we welcome you!"

CLANG!

The soldiers saluted in unison.

"So you are Aralond Bangon, the Shield Hero?"

Irus studied the man before her carefully. With his thick black beard and flowing hair, his burly frame, and his heavy battle armor, he exuded the steady, unshakable aura of a seasoned military commander. He seemed less like a legendary Hero and more like a hardened soldier.

"I am. It is an honor to meet you, Lady Irus Verdantstar Fael."

Aralond snapped a sharp military salute to Irus.

"Ah, Aralond! Look at you now!" Charkin stepped forward, clapping the Hero heartily on the shoulder. "You’ve really made a name for yourself! Who would’ve thought the kid I knew years ago would grow up to become a Hero!"

"Heh! I always knew he was something special!" Aznov chimed in, puffing out his chest proudly. "Told you my judgment is second to none! I’m a genius at spotting talent!"

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The two dwarves flanked Aralond, circling him like curious children inspecting a rare treasure.

"Ahem."

Aralond coughed awkwardly, his cheeks flushing slightly.

"Lord Charkin, Lord Aznov—we have guests present."

He gestured toward the figures standing behind Irus.

"Oh! Right you are! I almost forgot to introduce them!"

Charkin slapped his forehead, then pointed to Hulim Heyerar with a grand flourish.

"This is Hulim Heyerar. I don’t know if you’ve heard of her, but she’s a newly minted S-Rank Champion—her power is absolutely insane. If you let her delicate appearance fool you into underestimating her, you’ll pay a steep price for it."

"Lady Hulim? I have indeed heard your name. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"The pleasure is mine."

Hulim replied with a polite nod.

"And as for this little girl——"

Charkin turned to point at Prarlulu, only to stumble over his words.

"Ah, no...... This, uh, young lady! Yes, this distinguished young lady is Prarlulu Fael. I think you can already tell—she’s a Hero, just like you."

"I can indeed. It is an honor to meet you, Lady Prarlulu. As fellow Heroes, I hope we can work well together in the days to come."

"Ah! Y-Yes!"

Prarlulu, who had been glaring daggers at Charkin for his slip of the tongue, quickly snapped to attention.

"That...... Mr. Aralard? I look forward to working with you!"

"......"

"Prarlulu," Hulim whispered quickly, leaning in to nudge her arm. "It’s Aralond."

"Huh......?"

Prarlulu’s expression froze. Her face turned bright red in an instant, and she began stammering out apologies frantically.

"I-I’m so sorry! Please forgive me! That was so rude of me!"

Aralond chuckled warmly, waving a hand dismissively.

"It’s nothing to apologize for, Lady Prarlulu. No harm done. Now, if you’ll follow me—the fortress has been prepared to receive you all."

"Wow, you’re so reliable! Nothing like certain other dwarves I could name."

Irus commented with a meaningful glance toward Charkin and Aznov.

"Of course he is!" Charkin missed the implication entirely, puffing out his chest with pride. "Aralond worked his way up from nothing—started as a regular soldier from a backwater village, and climbed the ranks one step at a time with his own two hands!"

"He’s the most level-headed dwarf I’ve ever met! Back in the day, he couldn’t afford a decent weapon—so he’d camp out in front of my blacksmith shop every single day, watching me forge metal, just so he could learn to make his own!"

"Really?!"

Prarlulu’s eyes sparkled with curiosity.

"What happened next? Did Aral...... I mean, Aralond, learn how to do it?"

"Well......" Charkin’s voice trailed off. He shot a sidelong glance at Aralond. "You should ask him that."

Aralond’s expression turned instantly awkward, his ears turning pink.

"?"

Prarlulu looked back and forth between the two dwarves, utterly confused by the sudden silence.

"HA! I know what happened!"

Aznov cut in gleefully, unable to contain his laughter any longer.

"That kid camped outside Charkin’s shop every day for two whole years! This old coot was so moved by his perseverance that he was this close to taking him on as an apprentice!"

"And then—right when he was about to agree to teach him—Aralond finally saved up enough money to buy himself a proper weapon! And he never showed up again! Hahahaha! It was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen——!"

Aznov’s laughter echoed loudly through the courtyard, sharp and mocking.

But no one laughed along with him.

Aralond quickened his pace, walking ahead in silence, his shoulders slumping slightly.

Charkin hung back, his face turning as dark as a thundercloud. He glared daggers at Aznov’s retreating back, clearly plotting some form of revenge.

Just then, a hand suddenly clapped down on his shoulder.

Charkin spun around, only to find Hulim staring at him with a knowing look.

"Charkin."

"What?"

He growled, still seething with anger.

"Is that the reason you moved to Langard?"

"......"

Charkin’s face contorted into an expression of pure, unadulterated misery—as if he’d just swallowed a half-eaten fly.

"NO WAY IN HELL——!!!"

He roared, his voice echoing across the fortress walls.

......

Inside the fortress’s command hall.

"If you’ll look here, my lords and ladies—this map marks the current movement patterns of the monster hordes."

Aralond spread a large map out on the table, pointing to the various markings. The map detailed the geography surrounding Forgehold Fortress, with the monsters’ patrol routes plotted clearly and precisely.

Irus leaned in, studying the map carefully.

"Their forces are quite scattered......"

"They are. The monsters roam the surrounding area in small, mobile detachments. Even if we launch a preemptive strike, we won’t be able to deal them a decisive blow in a short time."

"But whenever the Bow Hero leads an attack on the fortress, all the monster detachments converge to support her. That is when we will have our chance."

"It seems you already have a plan in mind."

"I do. We’ve clashed with them many times now." Aralond nodded firmly. "Based on my observations, they will launch another large-scale assault within the next few days. That will be our opportunity to capture the Bow Hero and crush the enemy forces once and for all."

"But I will need your strength to make it happen. I must admit, it is rather embarrassing—for all my power as a Hero, my offensive capabilities are not particularly strong."

"You’re being far too modest. Is it not your doing that this fortress still stands? The Bow Hero’s power is far greater than yours, is it not?"

Aralond shook his head.

"I did not defend this fortress alone. It was the combined efforts of every soldier within these walls that allowed me to hold the line against her. I am merely their commander."

A warm smile spread across Irus’s face.

"It is reassuring to know that the Heroes include someone as reliable as you."

"??? Aunt Irus—what do you mean by that?"