Chapter 469: The Silver Dragon Horn

The burial specifications in the Ancestral Tomb are simple, consisting only of a coffin and an epitaph. Closely flanking the passage are the Kings of Eight Peaks throughout the ages, and extending backward from their coffins are the core clansmen and meritorious high officials of the same era.

To be buried in the Ancestral Tomb alongside the royal family and share in the sacrificial incense is the highest honor for the ministers of the Dwarf Realms. Generally speaking, the only ones guaranteed entry are the Gatekeeper—that is, the City Defense Commander—the lord's personal champion, and the Prime Minister; other clansmen must have rendered great service to the fortress to enter.

Belegar was teary-eyed, muttering to himself as he touched the reliefs on the ancestors' coffins one by one, recounting their great achievements. Sinuoli looked toward the altar at the end of the passage with a calm, composed expression, his face carrying an inscrutable look.

"If one does not become a true god, even the most heaven-defying abilities must eventually turn into a handful of yellow soil."

On the altar in the deepest part of the Eight Peaks Ancestral Tomb sits a statue of a Dwarf standing with his hands behind his back. His name is Kazad-Dum; he was the pioneer of the Eight Peaks Fortress complex and the progenitor of the Angrund Clan.

Legend has it that he was a powerhouse of the same generation as the Ancestor Gods, one of the first Dwarfs created by the Old Ones. The ancestors traveled north from Gaoyuanbao, and when passing through Eight Peaks, he realized this was a land of great geomantic potential, so he requested to stay behind to develop it. He hacked through brambles and thorns, enduring great hardships to gain a foothold and lay the foundation for what would become the most prosperous fortress in the Qunshan.

Beyond reaching the level of a Peak Demigod and slaying several Primordial Ancient Beasts entrenched in the mountains, he possessed great strategic vision. He single-handedly planned the mid-World's Edge Mountains fortress complex, including Black Rock Fort, Tiefengbao, and Dragon Crag, which stood in mutual support of one another.

Not only that, but in his later years, he even crossed the Badlands to survey the Dragonback Mountains on the western edge of the Badlands. Kazad-Dum marked out the Bottomless Stair Mine, planning to control the outlet of Blackwater Bay while echoing Eight Peaks from afar.

However, he faced the same dilemma as the White Dwarf: the limited Dwarf population could not support the faith required for more to ascend to godhood. Without the White Dwarf's opportunity for his soul to return to the Mortal World, he could only silently watch his clan decline from the halls of the Ancestor Gods.

On the altar before the statue of Kazad-Dum are arranged, in an orderly fashion, the highest-grade trophies of the Angrund Clan from the past several thousand years—preserved enemy chieftain heads, beast hearts, and weapon fragments that still contain intense energy fluctuations despite the erosion of time.

At the very front of these trophies, an exquisitely carved pedestal supports a small silver horn. It is shaped like a dragon in flight, with dragon wings covering both sides, the dragon's head serving as the mouthpiece, and the dragon's tail coiled once around the sound outlet.

To an outsider, this object has no significant energy fluctuations, and one might even suspect it is a fake. Fortunately, Sinuoli is no mortal; his Contract Authority reacted to the treasure before him. Naturally, it is not through mundane power that one commands a hegemon-level species like a Dragon.

"What is this? Why, why is there a musky smell?"

Holding the horn up to his eyes, Sinuoli sniffed and muttered to himself; the abrupt yellowish-white grime on the inner wall gave him an ominous premonition.

"Fine, may the pointy-eared gods bless Imrik to wash it before blowing it after he gets it."

Imagining the ancestors' wicked sense of humor during the peak of their Grudges, Sinuoli chuckled, took a bag, and covered it up, out of sight and out of mind. His temper is good, but it depends on who he is dealing with; he has no affection for a guy like Caledor's Imrik, who is arrogant and insists on infighting regardless of the occasion.

Teclis must have fantasies about him because he doesn't know the historical trajectory; Sinuoli knows his "wolf in the mountains" face—once he gets his way, he becomes rampant—and he feels no psychological pressure to be disgusted by him.

Leaving Belegar to report the situation in the Ancestral Tomb, Sinuoli sent a message to Teclis while walking. A grand event belonging to the Dwarfs is about to begin, and it is necessary to send away the eyesore High Elf before then.

"Congratulations, Your Majesty Sinuoli! Eltharion has sent the battle report back to Ulthuan; you have no idea what a great shock it has caused. This is an unparalleled achievement! What is the background of the hero who defeated Skarbrand? The entire Phoenix Court is surrounding me to ask for news!"

After a spatial fluctuation, Teclis appeared out of thin air. Without waiting for the mana turbulence from the teleportation to settle, he abandoned his usual calm and detached demeanor and spat out a long string of words like a machine gun. The High Elves know the value of The Exiled; Sinuoli, this newly promoted Dwarf Demigod, has received the attention he deserves.

"Heh, perhaps it is precisely because you care too much about these mundane matters that your progress in strength has been dragged down."

Sinuoli replied indifferently. He spoke nicely, but he didn't see the pointy-ears returning the lost treasures of yesteryear. On the other hand, Teclis, for the sake of Ulthuan and even the whole world, having crossed the threshold with one foot, still running around instead of practicing in peace, earned two parts of his respect.

"We are even! I feel at ease cooperating with an oath-keeper like you." Taking the horn, Teclis did not inspect it and put it away directly.

"Even? You were loose-lipped in Lustria, causing this King to be press-ganged by Lord Mazdamundi. How should we settle this account?"

Sinuoli snorted unhappily. He had just returned from Zhendan when he was intercepted by Ku-jia, who forced him to promise to participate in the future great war, which had made him feel uneasy for years. Thinking about having to face the Four Gods' coalition, his inner demons were almost formed!

"Press-ganged? This is a great opportunity! The Asur are duty-bound to recall Lord Kroak to preside over the Creator's Great Plan!"

"Giving me high-minded talk, what? Are you going to participate in the war too?"

"Me? It's useless for a mage like me to go. But my brother, Prince Tyrion of Cothique, and his loyal and brave riders have been eager for some years now."

"Tyrion, he certainly has great determination! Also, relying on sowing seeds in Awalong is not enough to master transcendent power."

With a shift in thought, Sinuoli understood the Taishi Xiongdi's intentions. Tyrion became famous at a young age and had a smooth journey, but he had been stuck at the bottleneck of the mortal peak for over a hundred years, and he had exhausted every method he could think of.

As the most powerful servant of the Old Ones, Kroak has the Geomantic Web to support him, and even the Four Gods would have to expend great effort to take him down. If he could get some guidance from him, breaking through to Demigod would surely be a matter of course.

"In a way, he is really kind-hearted, but he didn't expect that I would open the Ascension Staircase so quickly with the help of the system."

Thinking while nodding, after exchanging the latest information on the Great Vortex and even Ulthuan, Teclis teleported away; the Archmage, carrying a heavy treasure, did not want to stay too long.

"I can even faintly feel the call of the Ancestor Goddess. I will go see her situation first before deciding how to handle the victory festival."

Stroking his beard, Sinuoli made up his mind. Eight Peaks is waiting to be rebuilt, and with a thousand things to do, he cannot figure out which is more urgent for a moment; it is better to go and take care of the one that cannot do without him first.