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Chapter 348 The Pact of Attack and Defense! The Old Dwarf and the Dragon Knight (Please Subscribe)

Damon casually tossed the half-eaten grilled fish on the ground and wiped his fingers with the clean handkerchief the dwarf had given him.

He didn't get up, nor did he even look directly at the group of dwarves who seemed to be facing a formidable enemy.

Until the old dwarf, whose beard was adorned with gold and silver ornaments, stopped five hundred paces away from him, surrounded by a group of guards.

The old dwarf's cloudy eyes scanned Damon, from his handsome yet pale face to the extraordinary longsword he leaned on after standing up, and finally his gaze fell on the red, bloodthirsty dragon that was also standing up in the distance.

The dragon uttered no threats, but with an unconscious breath, the scorching air it exhaled caused the ferocious Gru beasts beneath the dwarf guards to paw at each other uneasily.

"Dragon knights from the south, you've come from afar," the old dwarf spoke, his voice dry and heavy, like two stones rubbing together. "What brings you to our remote and impoverished land?"

As soon as he finished speaking, Damon, through his shared dragon perspective, keenly sensed that some dwarf soldiers were making a move in the distance.

From the perspective of the dragon, which stood seventy or eighty meters tall, he could easily glimpse the things deployed nearby.

Dozens of armor-piercing magic cannons, which had been moved there without anyone noticing, were gleaming with a cold, bronze luster.

In some places, heavy-duty dragon-slaying crossbows specifically designed for armor penetration are also readily available.

Almost instantly, the red dragon named Clark Hugh suddenly raised its ferocious head.

Its crimson vertical pupils locked onto the dwarf elder, and a deep, muffled roar came from the depths of its throat, as if magma was churning underground.

"roar--!"

A visible ripple of energy spread out from it, forming a pale red shield.

The air temperature suddenly rose, and within its slightly open maw, destructive flames were already brewing.

Its tail also began to protect Damon, as if it were ready to launch an attack at any moment.

This colossal creature, nearly 150 meters long, was enough to terrify all the dwarves present, even if it merely bared its fangs.

In the distance, the dwarf guard's palms were sweaty as he gripped his battle axe; his expression was more one of despair than courage.

"Quiet, Clark Hugh."

Damon spoke softly in an ancient language.

The dragon flames that were about to burst forth miraculously subsided.

The red dragon flicked its tail in dissatisfaction, but still obediently stopped.

However, its vertical pupils remained fixed on the dwarf elder, filled with warning.

Damon, still leaning on his sword with one hand, walked towards his opponent.

His movements were slow, yet they carried an undeniable sense of oppression.

He looked at the dwarven elder whose expression shifted constantly, and a cold smile curled at the corner of his lips: "This half-human elder, is this how you dwarves treat your guests? Using armor-piercing cannons and crossbows to welcome guests from afar?"

The dwarf elder's eyelids twitched. He stared at Damon for a few seconds before finally waving his hand.

Soon, a dwarf came up carrying a silver platter with a piece of black bread, a pinch of white sea salt, and a cup of ale.

"According to the ancient customs of your human kingdoms," the dwarf elder's tone softened considerably, even managing a slight smile, "we offer our guests salt and bread. You are safe under my roof."

Guest rights.

To the human kingdoms, specifically the native inhabitants who came from Westeros, this was a sacred and inviolable oath.

Once the host and guest have shared salt and bread under the same roof, neither shall harm the other.

This ancient custom, passed down to the dwarfs, is a testament to their goodwill.

Damon glanced at the food on the silver platter, then at the hypocritical old dwarf.

He picked up the dark bread, broke off a small piece, dipped it in salt, and ate it without batting an eye. Then he picked up the ale and drank it all in one gulp.

Upon seeing this, all the dwarves visibly breathed a sigh of relief, and the tense atmosphere instantly dissipated.

"Very good. Now, let's get down to business."

Damon placed the empty glass back on the plate, the crisp sound particularly jarring in the silence. He looked up, his gaze calmly settling on the old dwarf.

"My name is Damon Targaryen."

Targaryen.

No wonder it looks even uglier than long ears!

They really are those damned royals!

Lucas Molten Ironhammer, an elder of the High Mountain Kingdom who had seen countless storms and lived for nearly two hundred years, seemed to have his clouded eyes clear up somewhat by the name he was given.

This surname was like an invisible hammer, making the dwarf elders feel uneasy.

The Targaryens are the dragon royal family of the Fire Dragon Empire, a dynasty that has risen and fallen many times, yet has remained standing for a thousand years.

He never expected to meet a Targaryen in this way.

Lucas groaned at the thought of the news from the Southern Human Kingdom!

One — a defeated Targaryen.

Lucas waved his hand, signaling his servants to take the things away, and dismissed the guards on either side.

On the empty snowfield, only he, Damon, and the red dragon lying dormant like a mountain range in the distance remained.

"Lucas Molten Hammer, one of the clan elders of the High Mountain Kingdom," the old dwarf replied in a deep voice, which served as a formal self-introduction.

He sized up Damon, trying to discern any hint of dejection or resentment on the prince's face.

But he saw nothing.

"Lord Targaryen, we have heard of the war in the south. We deeply regret what you have been through!" Lucas carefully chose his words. "We dwarves have never set foot on your land before. Why have you come here?"

Upon hearing this, Damon suddenly laughed.

The smile was faint, yet it carried an indescribable mockery.

"Because we lost." He spoke with a composure that belied the deposed monarch, as if recounting an amusing anecdote unrelated to himself. "We lost to that bastard who led the storm."

Sure enough.

Lucas's last shred of hope vanished.

He sighed inwardly. The change of power in the south might not be a good thing for the High Mountain Kingdom. Who knew if the newly enthroned king would turn his attention to the northern mountains?

Such a massive celestial convergence is so dangerous, and there are mysterious new humans in the north who seem to have arrived by taking advantage of the celestial convergence phenomenon.

These are turbulent times!

"The Fire Dragon Dynasty has stood for a thousand years, with a profound foundation," Lucas said, managing a few polite words. "Your Excellency will surely be able to restore the glory of the Targaryens."

"Well said." Damon clapped his hands, his voice not loud, but it made Lucas's eyelids twitch. "Since the elder thinks so highly of me, why don't we fulfill the ancestral alliance treaty?"

"An offensive and defensive alliance treaty?" Lucas thought to himself, "This is bad."

"Yes, a defensive alliance treaty! You send troops, I send dragons, and together we'll take down the usurper in the south. After it's done, the land south of the Brightmoon Mountains, all the way to the Green Water River, will be given to you dwarves."

This is quite a large undertaking.

Lucas's heart skipped a beat.

But soon, wrinkles reappeared on his face.

He respectfully shook his head: "Your Highness, that is an internal conflict within your human kingdom. The ancestral covenant only applies to those invaders who appear when the heavens meet—those capable of destroying the world."

"Is that so?" Damon tilted his head. "I remember there was a debt before the alliance. My ancestors liberated the 10,000 dwarven slaves from the other continent and sent them back to the Mountain Kingdom. Elder Lucas wouldn't forget this favor, would he?"

Lucas fell silent.

This is an undeniable act of kindness etched in their history books.

Even some previous defensive and offensive alliances were established for this reason.

"We certainly remember the kindness of the Targaryen dynasty."

The old dwarf spoke slowly, his tone heavy.

"Many years ago, when the calamity of the celestial convergence struck our kingdom, we dwarves also sent a large army to fight alongside your ancestors, shedding our blood on the battlefield. Now, a new calamity has just appeared, the kingdom is plagued by numerous internal problems, and its strength has been greatly diminished. We are simply unable to send a large army south to help Your Highness in your conquest."

These words were perfectly worded, acknowledging the kindness, stating that it had been repaid, and finally feigning poverty.

Damon listened quietly, his heart filled with coldness.

He knew the old dwarf was just making excuses.

If the Fire Dragon Kingdom is as powerful as before, the other side will definitely send a force of several thousand men as a token gesture.

The dwarves are indeed declining, but to say they can't muster an army is utter nonsense.

Ultimately, it was the decline of the Targaryen family that led to a loss of leverage and deterrent power.

If he had arrived here as a prince before the defeat, bringing with him the kingdom's generous gifts and promises, these greedy yet pragmatic dwarves might have actually been tempted.

It's laughable that his brothers, and those arrogant members of the royal family, still looked down on those northern barbarians even after their outer defenses were breached by tens of thousands of reinforcements from the North.

Now that the dynasty has fallen, he has become a homeless dog.

A prince who has nothing, the land he promises is nothing but a mirage, who would risk their life for him?

Based on the treasures that the royal family secretly moved in advance?

Ho ho!

And so, the atmosphere reached a stalemate.

Damon's smile slowly faded. Leaning on his sword, he looked at the impeccably shrewd old dwarf before him and suddenly felt somewhat bored.

The idea failed; it seems we still need to find a member of the royal family to preserve the family line!

Just when Lucas thought the conversation was about to end badly, Damon spoke up again.

His voice was soft, without any rage: "Very well, since the High Mountain Kingdom is unable to send troops, I will not force it."

Lucas was just about to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Then—" Damon raised his head, a strange smile reappearing on his pale face. He stared at Lucas and asked, word by word.

"How about we discuss a business deal?"

Damon leaned forward, interlaced his fingers on the table, and his gaze sharpened again.

"Though the Targaryens have lost the throne, their bloodline has not been extinguished. I know that many branches have scattered throughout the continent. Perhaps in the future, members of the royal families of other dynasties will come here!"

He paused, then said, word by word, "I know you dwarves still have some power. I need your help to use your trade routes and intelligence network to find them."

"Anyone with royal blood from the Dragon King must tell me the news."

Lucas's heart skipped a beat, and a glint of light flashed in his cloudy eyes.

Searching for the lost royal bloodline?

This is far less risky than going to war, but the rewards could be quite astonishing.

The new king has put a bounty on the Targaryens' heads, while this down-on-his-luck prince needs his people.

This is a win-win situation!

"Of course, we dwarves are happy to help." Lucas stroked his large beard, looking sincere. "However, Lord Damon, the new king of the Storm Kingdom recently sent a letter requesting our assistance in investigating—as you know."

Old fox.

Damon sneered inwardly, but his face remained impassive: "I understand, hedging is a traditional dwarven strategy. But you can tell the usurper that if he finds one, I'll pay him double!"

He took out a metal disc engraved with intricate runes from his pocket and handed it to the other person.

"This is a magical communication device, one of a kind. Contact me through it whenever you have a message. Wealth, land, treasures, or even the alchemy and forging techniques that you dwarves dream of—I will give you whatever I can."

Lucas glanced at the magical artifact, a fleeting look of greed crossing his eyes, which he quickly concealed.

He nodded solemnly: "We will definitely contact you once we find it."

"Very good." Damon stood up, seemingly preparing to leave, but then seemed to remember something. "One last little thing. My dragon has been eating a lot lately, and it was recently injured! The fish caught near the Devil's Sea are not enough to feed us. I don't want my companions to disturb your dwarf tribes fishing along the coast because of hunger."

His tone was calm, yet it sent a chill down Lucas's spine.

This is a blatant threat!

Damn!

These guys from the Fire Dragon Dynasty are actually trying to extort money from us!

I shouldn't have agreed to their request in the first place.

If the news reaches the southern human kingdoms, a bloodbath is inevitable.

But if they refuse, a hungry dragon would be a disaster for the dwarves.

Dwarves fear agile air forces, and dragons are among the most powerful magical creatures on the continent.

For the dwarves to fight the dragon, they need specific terrain and ample firepower.

He glanced at the bloodthirsty dragon, which was over 150 meters long, and sighed inwardly.

"Elder Lucas? Is the High Mountain Kingdom really unable to offer even this much assistance?"

Lucas smiled. "Your Highness, it's not that we can't do it, but as you know, the Southern Human Kingdom is currently very powerful. We shouldn't be giving it to you!"

Damon frowned slightly and began to stroke his magical greatsword.

"But—hehe—but—we have such a deep friendship!" Lucas changed his tone abruptly, continuing, "Please wait a moment!"

"Hmm, Lucas, don't try any tricks!"

"Your Highness, you have consumed wine, salt, and bread; you are a respected guest of the kingdom."

He ordered his men to get to work, and soon a dwarf came with a box.

Lucas, looking pained, took out a blue gem the size of a pigeon egg and handed it over.

He said a few words to the gem.

"Your Highness, this is a recording gem I've crafted. Once you arrive at our port, simply infuse it with magic and present it to the local officials. They will provide you and your—companions—with ample supplies. But all of this is contingent on Your Highness not harming any of the High Mountain Kingdom's people!"

Damon accepted the gem with satisfaction, weighed it in his hand, and then put it into his pocket.

"Thank you for your help. The Fire Dragon Dynasty will remember you!"

"You are welcome!"

Damon smiled, waved, turned and strode out, without saying another word.

A moment later, a dragon's roar that pierced the clouds and split rocks came from outside the valley. A huge red shadow covered the sky, and a gale swept up the sand and stones on the ground, making it impossible for the dwarves to open their eyes.

The giant dragon soared into the sky and flew into the distance, quickly turning into a small black dot on the horizon.

Only after the terrifying pressure completely disappeared did Lucas's deputy rush over, his face full of anxiety and confusion.

"Elder! Are we just going to let him go like that? He's the most powerful adult dragon among the Targaryens! We should—"

"What should we do? Leave him here?" Lucas interrupted him coldly. "Gamble the lives of hundreds of our elite soldiers on the friendship of the Southern Human Kingdom? Or do you want to personally experience just how hot that dragon's flames are?"

The deputy was speechless for a moment, his face turning pale and then red.

"That letter—from the Storm King in the South—"

Elder Lucas shouldn't have come here in the first place.

He should stay in the Dwarven Mountain Kingdom and work in the capital.

But plans and changes are always in flux.

The northern humans appeared and easily resolved the dwarves' internal problems with overwhelming force. Furthermore, in the name of their great ancestor Gazul, they began to transform the dwarven mountain kingdom.

Although progressive reformers have now become the mainstream among the dwarves, there are still many dwarven nobles who are unwilling to give up their vested interests.

Lucas was neither a reformer nor a conservative within the dwarves. He only claimed to be obeying the king's orders!

However, the tens of thousands of elite troops led by the king had disappeared into the forbidden area and had not returned.

Lucas just kept putting it off!

It was because he had remained silent that the two factions sent Lucas when they learned that the human kingdom had dispatched personnel to search for the former royal family.

Negotiations are secondary; the priority is to get the southern and northern human forces into contact, ideally letting them fight like dogs.

Of course, since this was instigated by the dwarves, there are great risks involved.

The traditional nobles on the dwarf side only wanted to use the power of the southern humans to their advantage, not to unite the northern and southern humans to fight against the dwarfs.

Then it will be completely Barbie Q.

"Kahn, why would a dragon knight suddenly appear in this godforsaken place? And then spend so many days recuperating?"

"We only learned of the dragon war among humans a few days ago after the magical upheaval, and that the last organized Targaryen force was destroyed." Kahn suddenly gasped. "You mean members of the royal family might be heading our way? Are they giving us a heads-up?"

"Yes, so let's drag it out! Let's pretend we don't know anything and drag it out."

Lucas narrowed his eyes, gazing in the direction where the dragon had disappeared, his voice laced with cunning and coldness.

"This matter is very sensitive! We should wait until he makes too much of a fuss and can no longer cover it up, or until the usurper's army in the south personally marches to the foot of our mountain before leaking the news out."

"Right now, we see nothing, we hear nothing. And we've never seen a dragon—"

"It's in our best interest to have Damon ride that dragon as far as possible!"