"You think quickly. It's Mjolnir," Zoltan nodded and added seriously: "But you might not know that Mjolnir had five owners. Emperor Elfa was only the fourth. The first three were Supreme Kings of the Dwarves from the Ironbeard Clan. Because Mjolnir was forged by the power of the entire clan as their greatest treasure."
It dawned on Renn. Dwarf history had dozens of Supreme Kings, and the fact that three of them belonged to the Ironbeard Clan was quite noteworthy. Obviously, the legendary hammer had played no small role in this. And the underground fortress beneath Longsand had been built by that very clan. The connection was clear, and Renn instantly understood why Zoltan had mentioned Emperor Elfa.
"So, Emperor Elfa visited the Ironbeard Clan's underground fortress, found Mjolnir there, and made it out?" he asked excitedly.
"Yes," Zoltan confirmed. "And not just him. The fifth owner of Mjolnir, Usurper Walden, who lived over a thousand years ago and called himself the emperor's heir, also spent many years in Longsand before making a name for himself. He definitely visited the Ironbeard Clan's fortress too."
"Usurper Walden?" Renn knew the name. Walden was a pivotal figure in Empire history, his reputation quite ambiguous. Born to a blacksmith family, he became a superhuman but remained unknown for a long time. Then he suddenly acquired Mjolnir, missing for a thousand years, performed numerous heroic deeds, and declared himself the rightful heir of Emperor Elfa, trying to force the then-emperor to abdicate by force.
The ruling emperor was a strong personality and, of course, had no intention of yielding the throne. Walden had many supporters, and conflict erupted between them. The unrest lasted several years and engulfed the entire Empire.
The outcome was unexpected for everyone. The emperor died in the conflict, and the gravely wounded Walden was killed by an assassin. Who was behind the assassination remains one of history's greatest mysteries to this day.
Walden's supporters, fearing purges by the new emperor, staged a massacre, wiping out the entire imperial family. Emperor Elfa's bloodline was severed, and with it, the monarchy vanished. Since then, there have been no emperors in the Empire, and power passed to the Supreme Council Khemis.
Mjolnir, the cause of the unrest, disappeared again after Walden's death.
Renn quickly pieced the information together in his mind. Mjolnir—a treasure forged by the Ironbeard Clan. The Dwarves left Khorshyntag. Many years later, Emperor Elfa found Mjolnir. Then he founded the Empire. The Auriental Empire was officially proclaimed in 221 of the New Era, and the Dwarves left about twelve hundred years before that. Around fourteen hundred years had passed. When leaving the underground fortress, the Dwarves would surely have taken Mjolnir with them. But fifteen hundred years later, Emperor Elfa found this legendary hammer precisely in the Ironbeard Clan's fortress. Emperor Elfa ruled for fifty years, and after his death, Mjolnir vanished again. And only around 1350 of the New Era did Usurper Walden find it—another nearly twelve hundred years later. After Walden's death, the hammer disappeared once more and has not appeared since.
Putting all these facts together, Renn reached a certain conclusion.
"You've already figured it out, it seems," Zoltan noticed his expression and grinned smugly. "In one of the Ironbeard Clan's ancient books, I found a mention that Mjolnir is mainly made of extremely rare void meteorite steel, which has the ability to move through space. It's highly likely that each time after disappearing, it returned to where it was created—the Ironbeard Clan's underground fortress."
Renn's eyes lit up, his heart racing faster.
Zoltan, however, shook his head and warned seriously:
"It's just our theory, not necessarily true. Don't get your hopes up too much. Besides, it's a legendary weapon. Even if it's there, it's not easy to take it. You know the legends about Mjolnir."
Zoltan had told him all this because he thought Renn would find it interesting, not because he planned to deliberately search for the hammer in the fortress. That wasn't his goal.
"I understand," Renn nodded and took a deep breath, trying to calm his excitement.
Mjolnir was considered the heaviest weapon in the world, earning the nickname "Worldbreaker." Legends said Emperor Elfa would place the hammer on the ground and invite anyone who wished to try lifting it, but no one succeeded. Neither humans, elves, Dwarves, nor even giants, trolls, or dragons— no one, no matter their strength, could budge it. It was truly astonishing. The secret to lifting Mjolnir was known only to its owner.
But be that as it may, Renn didn't want to miss such a chance. He had to visit the underground fortress, at least catch a glimpse of the hammer, so he wouldn't regret it later.
He hesitated no longer.
"Zoltan, I'll go with you."
"Excellent!" Zoltan rejoiced. "I'll go up and tell Roger. You head home, rest well. We'll leave tomorrow morning."
"Do I need to prepare in any special way?" Renn decided to clarify the details. He had no experience in such matters, and extra advice wouldn't hurt.
"No need, I'll prepare everything for you," Zoltan replied confidently.
Renn relaxed. Zoltan had planned this for years. Plus, he was a Dwarf, and they were entering a dwarven underground fortress—almost like coming home. Everything should be fine.
He said nothing more and returned to Vigo's estate.
That evening, Renn told Viola everything. She was very surprised but didn't object and even offered him her spatial talisman. Renn refused immediately. That talisman was the most valuable thing left to her from her parents, holding most of her wealth. Without it, her power would halve at least. If someone plotted against her then, she'd be in great danger. Renn didn't want to put Viola at risk because of him. Besides, Roger, the legendary Demon Hunter, was going with them, so safety was assured, and there was no need for a spatial talisman. He accepted only a few potions from Viola and refused the rest.
The next morning, Renn arrived at the "Basilisk" tavern at dawn. In the mechanical workshop at the hideout entrance stood Roger, staring at the rune circle on the floor.
"Master Roger," Renn greeted.
"Mm," Roger responded curtly.
Renn noticed the Demon Hunter looked much better than lately. The dark circles under his eyes were gone, his cat-like pupils gleaming with clarity. Two cross-shaped swords hung on his back over sturdy leather-chainmail armor. His tall figure radiated power.
"Haven't seen Lady Delaersha in a while," he remarked.
"Since that Shadow Blade assassin was killed, Delaersha hasn't come," a note of longing crept into Roger's voice.
"Uh..." Renn didn't know how to comfort him but thought to himself: "No wonder Roger looks better."
At that moment, Zoltan entered from outside. He'd settled all tavern affairs without saying where he was going, only mentioning he'd be away for a few days.
Closing the workshop door, Zoltan pulled a large chest from the corner and began donning full gear. First, the full set of gray-silver rune armor, then arming himself with a heavy two-handed axe and two spirit rifles. He wrapped five or six ammo belts around his waist. On his back was a half-man-high metal box stuffed with all sorts: a dozen tools, large packs of compressed rations, an alchemical water-gathering rod, and many other unidentified items—a real treasure chest.
But most eye-catching was the brick-thick book, chained by its spine and slung diagonally on his belt.
Noticing Renn's gaze, Zoltan slapped the book with a dull thud.
"This is an ancient book from the Ironbeard Clan. It has lots of info on the underground fortress and even a rough map. Our success this time depends entirely on it."
Renn nodded and opened the library on his phone. The book appeared in the list, and he downloaded it immediately. Flipping through pages in the interface, he saw it was in dwarven, which he didn't know. But the dozen maps were simple: the fortress shown layer by layer, top to bottom, with key points marked on each level.
"Well then, let's go," Zoltan stepped onto the rune circle first.
Renn checked his shotgun and ammo, drew the "Icebreaker" warhammer from his dragon belt, and stood on the circle too.
Only Roger still lingered outside the door, his face showing inner conflict. Renn smirked inwardly. He'd long noticed Roger's teleportation phobia—he was wary of anything involving spatial movement.
Zoltan knew it well too. They both watched Roger silently, not rushing him.
Muttering under his breath, Roger finally steeled himself and, as if heading to execution, reluctantly stepped into the rune circle's bounds.
Zoltan donned mechanical goggles like protective ones and activated built-in Darksight. A spell slipped from his lips.
The entire rune circle lit up and vibrated instantly. Seconds later, the air filled with faint magical energy. Space before their eyes distorted, everything spun like being sucked into a giant maelstrom. Weightlessness and panic gripped Renn.
It didn't last long.
In an instant, Renn found himself no longer in the hideout. Thanks to the mighty Will of Truth, he felt no discomfort from the teleport. Looking around, he saw pitch darkness. No light sources, but Eye of the Soul and Will of Truth let him see through it unhindered.
They were in a vast cave. Wherever he looked, stone walls. High above, thirty meters up, a dome-like ceiling supported by giant square columns. At the columns' bases clustered stone houses forming an architectural complex. Buildings varied in height: some carved into walls, others freestanding. Numerous stone stairs, plazas, statues—all in grand, characteristic dwarven style.
Despite millennia, most structures were well-preserved, only a few collapsed. Everything covered in thick dust. Dead silence reigned in the cave.
The Voice of All Things caught no sound. Yet the air was surprisingly fresh, not musty as expected, with a slight movement. It was encouraging: air flow meant an exit.
"We're inside!" Zoltan exclaimed, first scanning warily. Finding no danger, he couldn't contain his joy.
Beside him, Roger clutched his forehead, shaking his head several times, still dizzy from teleport. His gaze was dazed, face pale.
"Where are we?" Renn asked.
They stood on a small plaza paved with solid stone slabs. Around was fairly open space, the rune circle on the floor barely visible.
"I'll check," Zoltan opened his ancient belt book. Pages of thin metal plates jingled when turned. "According to the book, five rune circles lead to different fortress spots, levels one to five, one per level. This is a residential zone, so likely second or third level."
Renn opened info on dwarven fortresses on his phone too. Whether in their ancestral World Mountains or elsewhere, dwarven underground fortresses had similar structures. Usually ten levels, top to bottom.
The topmost, first level, was a defensive line against external foes. Barracks, watchtowers, arsenals, fortifications guarding lower passages. Usually not very large.
Levels two to five held main residential zones. King, clan elders, common Dwarves lived here. All life infrastructure—throne room, temples, taverns, markets—concentrated on these four levels.
Sixth level for mushroom farms, workshops, forges.
Seventh to ninth: treasuries, relic vaults, ancestor tombs, and most importantly for Dwarves, mines.
Tenth, lowest level, crossed by several underground rivers for water. Enemies could enter through them, so it often had complex, maze-like layout.
Zoltan oriented quickly.
"This is third level. We need fourth, where Moradin's temple is, likely holding rune tech."
"Which way?" Renn asked. Several exits led from the cave in different directions.
"Not sure exactly, we'll find on the way," Zoltan scratched his nape. Fortress built millennia ago, like a huge underground labyrinth. Even a Dwarf could get lost.
They picked a direction at random and followed the wide road. Passing tall, majestic buildings, Renn felt like a speck and wondered: Dwarves are short, why build such huge houses?
Soon they passed a rock-carved tunnel into another cave, deeper. From the tunnel exit, the whole cave was visible.
Renn's gaze swept the scene, and he suddenly spotted something clearly not dwarven. His face changed slightly, and he warned quietly:
"Someone's been here!"