The torchlight flickered against the stone walls, stretching the old dwarf's shadow into a twisted, enormous shape. Ravenna squinted, adjusting to the sudden brightness, her fingers still gripping the dagger tightly—she wasn't about to lower her guard just because of a "welcome."
The old dwarf—Ironbeard Deeprock—scanned the three of them with his one eye. His gaze paused briefly on Ravenna's rune-covered arm, then hesitated slightly at the baby's golden pupils. Finally, he looked at Rayne, his whiskered mouth twitching: "An elf? Interesting."
Rayne's longsword remained unsheathed, the tip slightly lowered but still held ready to strike at any moment. "Who are you?" His voice was calm, but the usual lightness of the elf tone now carried a sharp edge.
"Ironbeard Deeprock, Fortress Warden," the dwarf said, tapping his shoulder armor with his warhammer, the metal clang echoing through the chamber. "You've trespassed into dwarf territory. By law, I could throw you into the furnace as fuel."
Ravenna snorted, rubbing her thumb across her nose. "Then why haven't you?"
Ironbeard's one eye narrowed, and the runes on his eyepatch faintly glowed. "Because the Watchers foresaw your arrival." He raised his warhammer, pointing at Ravenna's arm. "Those runes bear the mark of the ancient trees, and you—" His hammer swung to the baby, "this little one carries something even the Abyss fears."
The baby blinked and suddenly stretched out a tiny hand, babbling several indistinct syllables. Ironbeard's brow twitched sharply, as if he'd just heard something important.
"What did he say?" Ravenna frowned.
Ironbeard said nothing, instead turning toward a passage at the far end of the chamber. "Follow me. The fortress isn't safe."
Ravenna and Rayne exchanged a glance. Rayne's pointed ears twitched slightly—elf hearing could pick up sounds humans missed—but he finally nodded, signaling no immediate danger.
Ravenna smirked, sliding her dagger back into her belt but keeping a finger on the hilt. "Lead the way, old beard. But if you try anything—"
"—You'll fix my beard with that pretty little knife?" Ironbeard cut her off without turning, his voice teasing. "Save it, rogue girl. If I wanted you dead, those corrupted puppets back there would've done the job."
Corrupted puppets.
Ravenna's rune-covered arm suddenly prickled with pain, as if confirming Ironbeard's words. She looked down, and faintly, a trace of dark red seeped through the emerald green runes, like polluted blood mixing into her veins.
"Your arm is deteriorating," Rayne said quietly, his gaze sharp as an eagle's.
"It's just… adapting to the environment," Ravenna forced a careless smile, but inside she was tense. Old Nick's potion could temporarily suppress the Abyss's corruption, but clearly, the darkness in this fortress was thicker than she had imagined.
Suddenly, the baby grabbed her finger with surprising strength. His palm was unusually hot, like he was holding a piece of burning coal. Ravenna almost cried out, but in the next moment, the dark red veins on her arm were forcibly pushed back a bit.
"Shh… little bastard, what exactly are you?" she murmured.
The baby just giggled, as if nothing had happened.
They followed Ironbeard through a narrow corridor. The glowing minerals on the walls were covered by a viscous black substance, making the light dim and distorted. The air was filled with a stench of rusted metal mixed with rotting flesh, forcing Ravenna to cover her nose.
"What the hell is that smell?" she asked in a muffled voice.
"Abyssal excrement," Ironbeard sneered. "The 'masterpiece' of those corrupted automatons."
Rayne's sword tip gently lifted a puddle of black slime from the ground. The silver blade immediately dulled with a layer of gray rust. He quickly shook off the filth, his expression grave. "Highly corrosive."
"And contagious," Ironbeard tapped his metal eyepatch. "That's how I lost my left eye—a corrupted clansman sprayed this stuff all over me before he died."
Ravenna's stomach twisted. She had seen plenty of disgusting things—the thieves' guild's underground torture chamber, Old Nick's failed experiments, severed limbs of abyssal creatures—but this living corrosion made her scalp tingle.
At the end of the corridor stood a bronze door carved with runes. Ironbeard took a gear-shaped key from his waist and inserted it into the central lock. The grinding sound of turning gears resembled old bones rubbing together. The door slowly opened, revealing a circular stone chamber.
In the center of the chamber was a miniature forge model, its flames glowing an unnatural purple. Scattered around were various mechanical parts, yellowed maps, and several empty wine bottles. In the corner, a dwarven bed covered with animal hides was piled with weapons and armor.
"My temporary command post," Ironbeard strode toward the forge, took down a small copper kettle from the shelf, and poured three steaming cups of black liquid. "Drink up—it can resist the corruption toxin."
Ravenna took the cup and sniffed it—strong alcohol mixed with some kind of spicy herb, making her nose itch. "Smells like Old Nick's foot bath."
"Tastes even more like it," Ironbeard grinned, showing a few gold teeth, then tossed back his own cup.
Rayne cautiously took a sip, his pointed ears immediately flattening against his head. "...It really works." His voice was tight, clearly this stuff was torture for an elf's sensitive palate.
Ravenna rolled her eyes and drank it down in one gulp. As the liquid slid down her throat, she felt like someone had lit a fire inside her chest, burning so fiercely that tears sprang to her eyes. "Damn! This has to be lava!"
"Dwarven special—'Blood of the Forge'," Ironbeard said, watching her reaction with satisfaction. "Now, let's get to the point—why have you come here?"
Ravenna wiped the tears from her eyes and raised her runed arm. "This thing led us here. Old Nick said the second Watcher is beneath the dwarven fortress."
Ironbeard's one eye widened slightly. "Old Nick? That crazy alchemist?"
"You know him?" Rayne asked.
"Thirty years ago, he came to the fortress," Ironbeard stroked the copper ring on his beard. "Stole a sample of our most precious sacred tree branch and blew up half the lab."
Ravenna chuckled. "Sounds exactly like something he'd do."
Ironbeard snorted. "So now he's sending you to pay the debt?"
"Sending?" Ravenna shook her head. "Old Nick never 'sends' anyone to do anything. He just hides key info in drunken ramblings, then lets you bash your head against the wall until you figure it out."
The baby suddenly climbed down from Rayne's arms, wobbling as he walked toward the furnace model. His small hand pressed against the edge of the furnace, and the purple flames instantly turned into a pure gold color.
Ironbeard sprang to his feet, warhammer already gripped in his hand: "How can he—?!"
"Relax, old beard," Ravenna stepped in front of the baby. "He's just… helping?"
Within the golden flames of the furnace model, a three-dimensional hologram gradually appeared—a cross-section map of the fortress. On it, numerous red dots moved deep underground like a swarm of bloodthirsty ants.
"The spread of the Corrupted," Rayne whispered.
Ironbeard's face darkened extremely. "Worse than I imagined."
The image suddenly shifted, showing a massive cavern at the fortress's lowest level. A metal giant tree, bound in chains, took root there, its roots plunging into molten lava. Black sticky liquid oozed from cracks in the trunk.
"The Ironroot Ancient Tree…" Ironbeard's voice was hoarse. "They've polluted it to this degree."
Ravenna's runed arm burned fiercely, the emerald-green lines flashing wildly as if resonating with the ancient tree in the image. The pain forced her to one knee, cold sweat soaking her back instantly.
"Ravenna!" Rayne immediately steadied her.
The baby turned around and placed his small hand on her runes. Golden light flowed from his fingertips into the patterns, and the pain eased instantly. But suddenly, countless shattered images exploded in Ravenna's mind—
The sound of chains breaking.
Boiling lava.
A dwarf wearing a golden crown raising a bloodstained battle axe.
Shadows of the Abyss writhing among the ancient tree's roots.
"Golden Chain…" she gasped, "You have a traitor named Golden Chain."
Ironbeard's one eye suddenly narrowed. "How do you know the deputy's name?"
Rayne's sword was already drawn, pointing straight at Ironbeard's throat: "You have a traitor within?"
Ironbeard didn't dodge, only nodded heavily: "My deputy, Golden Chain Forgefire, started acting strangely three months ago. Now I think his family bloodline was probably corrupted by the Abyss long ago."
The image shifted again, showing a room in the upper levels of the fortress—a dwarf with a golden beard was loading some kind of black crystal into the head of a mechanical spider.
"He's making more Corrupted puppets," Ironbeard said through gritted teeth.
The baby suddenly pointed at a corner in the image. Ravenna squinted—there was a blurry humanoid shadow, much taller than a dwarf, draped in tattered robes, with a face that was just a swirling black mist.
"Messenger of the Abyss Council," Ironbeard's voice dropped to an almost inaudible whisper, "Shadowthroat."
Rayne's pointed ears stiffened: "Why would a high-ranking Council member come here personally?"
"For the power of the Ironroot Ancient Tree," Ironbeard gripped his warhammer tightly. "Legend says the roots of the twelve Watchers connect to the world's ley lines. Whoever controls them can reshape the continent."
The image suddenly went dark, and the furnace model returned to its normal purple flames. The baby yawned, wobbling back to Rayne's side as if drained of energy.
The stone chamber fell into silence.
Ravenna flexed her still-aching arm and grinned: "So, what's the plan? Just storm in and smash that golden-bearded bastard into a pulp?"
Ironbeard's one eye fixed on her, then he suddenly smiled too: "I like your style, thief girl." He dragged a heavy iron chest out from under the bed and flipped open the lid—inside were two sets of rune-engraved dwarf light armor, a sleek silver-blue shortbow, and a dozen bottles of various potions.
"But first," he tossed a set of light armor to Ravenna, "you have to survive tonight."
As if in response, a loud metallic tearing noise echoed from afar, followed by the distinct clicking of mechanical spiders—hundreds, maybe thousands of clicks.
Ironbeard's one eye turned toward the bronze door, his rune-covered eyepatch glowing red: "They've found us."