Chapter 183 Skybreaker
183 Skybreaker
With a deep breath, Henry inhaled the raw mana in the air to sustain his body, rejuvenating his circuits and heart after Caelum had drained him completely to subdue the dwarves. The sword in his hands, now devoid of mana, seemed to humph in frustration, disappointed that it hadn't turned the enemies to ashes, mostly due to this new human stopping it.
Henry tried to convey his thoughts to the sword's spirit, attempting to appease it, but it wasn't open to any dialogue. From the fragmented inherited memories, Henry knew that the sword indeed had a spirit, much like the holy swords in legends. However, it seemed too weak to fully awaken, and its responses were almost at a deep subconscious level, like an entity lost in limbo. It seemed cliche, but the sword would only unlock if he had some level of strength. Hell, he couldn't even summon it by his own will.
"I will give you other chances" - Henry tried to convey this thought, between deep breaths, trying to win over the sword's subconscious. However, it kept sulking. After a few moments, Henry finally managed to regain his clarity and some of his strength. As if waiting for that, the sword vanished into thin air, burrowing itself back into his body. It followed his Mana Circuits until it finally settled near his heart, forming a tattoo of a dragon eating its own tail. He shook his head a bit disappointed, but decided to let it go. He had plenty of time. And, there were more pressing matters at hand.
He looked at the previous enemies and treaded carefully toward the kneeling dwarves, ready to react if they suddenly pounced on him. However, from what he had seen with Boris and his brothers earlier, the dwarves didn't seem to be a tribe that relied on cunning actions; they were straightforward in their actions and words, loyal to the core if they managed to connect with someone. Proof of that was their enless loyalty to the Son of Fire and Anvil, Garret von Stahl, even after centuries passed.
"How are your wounds?" Henry stopped in front of them and turned his eyes to Leier, who stood up with difficulty, holding her shoulder and using the wall near the gates for support. "Better than her" - Leier replied, glancing at Mani, who still had smoke rising from her body as if she was meat cooling off after being cooked by the fire dragon attack. She couldn't help but smirk; seeing her enemy down and the others kneeling seemed to alleviate her pain slightly.
The eyepatch over her eye had been lost during the fight, revealing a scar that had taken one of her ocean-blue eyes. Henry averted his gaze, looking at the dwarves. "Return and get treated."
Leier wanted to stay by her king's side, but the serious expression on his face, one that brooked no argument, silenced her. She nodded and moved slowly, holding her shoulder. As she passed the burnt but still breathing Mani, her eyes lingered on her for a moment before she continued.
Henry turned his focus back to the dwarves, especially to Yngvi, who bowed his head even lower to the ground.
"We're sorry for attackin' the descendant of our hero, the Son of Fire and Anvil" - Yngvi said, his voice filled with deep regret - "We didnae recognize the blood of our king and deserve nothin' less than death." Hearing Yngvi's words, the other dwarves exchanged doubtful glances, their faces reflecting shock and confusion. If Yngvi was saying that the man before them was the descendant of Garret von Stahl, then he was like the son of a god to them, the rightful leader of their village. Without doubting Yngvi's words, they bowed their heads even lower. Henry looked at them and, after a few moments, he waved his hand - "Indeed, it is treason to point your weapons towards the king of these lands, the rightful heir to the throne, and the bearer of the most royal bloodline in the North" - he said calmly, his words were like scythes hanging above the dwarves' heads. They swallowed hard. They didn't want to die and could probably fight back and seriously injure or kill Henry at this moment, but their burning loyalty and reverence didn't allow for such thoughts. They could only await the decision of the descendant. Henry waved his hand - "I... absolve you of your crimes." - A collective sigh of relief escaped the dwarves' mouths.
Then, Henry walked over to the hammer lying on the ground and grabbed the handle. Yngvi's eyes glimmered with anticipation. Henry lifted the hammer effortlessly, as if picking up a twig from the ground. The eyes of the dwarves widened in surprise as small lightning snakes coiled around the hammer
"It's lighter than I thought…But it's interesting." - Henry muttered, stretching the hammer out to Yngvi, who grabbed it with trembling hands - "The other one is quite the jealous type, it seems" - The king said in a cryptic smile, feeling the tattoo on his chest moving.
"Ye are truly his descendant" - Yngvi said, even more excitedly, followed by the others. They all rose to their feet. .
"Oh, it seems like you still had some doubts about that" - Henry said with an amused smile. "I had little doubt after seein' that dragon manifested by yer sword. There are texts and stories that tell of the Son of Fire and Anvil summoning purple dragons with every slash of his sword, exactly like yers" - Yngvi said, clenching his hammer and lifting it for Henry to see - "This hammer is known as Skybreaker, and it was created by yer ancestor's hands. He told us that only the chief appointed by the furnace's fire and those of his own blood could lift it." - Yngvi's eyes gleamed even brighter - "Since ye lifted it so easily, there is no more doubt. It's impossible to impersonate blood."
Suddenly, without another word, Yngvi turned and walked to the front of the gate. Henry watched as the elder dwarf lifted Skybreaker, the hammer once again crackling with small lightning snakes, and struck the metal gate six times, each blow more powerful than the last. With each hit, the whole Screaming Valley trembled, and snow cascaded down from the surrounding mountains. The barbarians had to grip tightly and use their weapons to steady themselves.
"We welcome the descendant of Fire!" Yngvi shouted, his voice echoing through the valley.
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