The stardust particles in the air seemed to be temporarily frozen by this silent command.
The old man raised a large hand that was also unchanged, covered with cracks and calluses, and made a gesture of invitation to Mark. His movements were still calm, and he pointed to a relatively flat, cleaned low stone pile next to the campfire.
"Stranger, the cold is biting you. Come and sit down and talk."
His voice was surprisingly not resonant, but rather raspy with weariness, like the grinding of buried rock, each syllable carrying the weight of a thousand years of forging. "This is deep within the Frostwhisper chasm. I apologize for the simple hospitality. I am Torg Greybeard, former hammerhandle of the Greybeard clan, and the only remaining guide stone for these poor souls lost in the frozen abyss of the Earth's core."
Mark nodded silently, without any nonsense.
He glanced again at the group of dwarves with strange shapes but clear minds, then walked towards the stone pillar.
His steps were still a little shaky, the previous exhaustion and the shock of the scene before him still lingering in his body.
He sat down on the cold stone block as he was told. Xiao Mu moved slightly and leaned against his chest to keep warm.
The dancing blue flames illuminated his tired but clear-headed face, and also illuminated Torge's old but calm face.
The old patriarch's gaze first fell on the faint pink slime body in Mark's arms. His gray-blue eyes flashed a very fast and difficult-to-interpret glimmer, as if confirming something, and then moved back to Mark's face.
"So," Torge's voice broke the silence, speaking in the straightforward dwarven style, getting straight to the point. "The heart of the Frostwhisper chasm, the Starburst Cemetery—ordinary monsters wouldn't choose to enter this place. What brought a human warrior, a priest, to this desolate place? What's your purpose?"
Mark met those eyes that contained lava and frost and did not try to make up a lie.
In front of such a group of warriors who are still sharp-eyed even when they are seriously injured, especially at a juncture that may determine the life and death of the Enzo people, frankness is the wisest choice.
"The purpose is simple." Mark's voice was a little hoarse from exhaustion, but his words were clear. "To find Enzo Graybeard's clan, the Graybeard clan branch 'Deep Furnace'."
He paused and observed that when the word "deep furnace" came out, several dwarves sitting around the campfire stiffened for a moment, and even Torge's calm eyes were filled with a slight ripple.
"And, come and see the object that has trapped you here, is coveted by many, and may be dragging you into the abyss: the 'Heart of the Star Remains'."
His voice was not loud, but it was like a heavy piece of ore thrown into a silent ice lake, instantly stirring up invisible waves among the dwarves!
Even though they all remained silent on the surface, Mark clearly "tasted" the complex soul breath that suddenly became strong in the air.
Deep sorrow, profound anger, almost dead despair, and... an indelible obsession with protecting the original power that comes from deep in the dwarf's blood!
Even a few dwarves, wrapped in thick animal skins, trembled slightly, not knowing whether it was from the pain of erosion or the impact of Mark's words.
The wrinkles on Chief Torge's face seemed to deepen a little.
He was silent for a moment, his gray-blue eyes, which seemed to be able to penetrate the rocks of time, stared at Mark for a long time, as if evaluating the truthfulness of every word in his speech.
And when this young human mentioned the "Heart of the Star Skeleton", the look in his eyes was not greed, but a look of vigilance and magic.
Finally, the old patriarch sighed slowly, and his breath condensed into a short white mist in the cold air, like the last hot embers ejected from a furnace.
"Oh, Enzo? ... This name sounds familiar. Sorry, maybe I'm old now and can't remember many children's names, but we are still happy that our friends are still thinking of us."
Torge's voice then became low again, with an indescribable fatigue and desolation, as if he was referring to something distant and heavy.
"As for the 'Heart of the Star Remains,' you've found the right place. But... perhaps we, the Graybeard Dwarves, have already been dragged into the abyss by it."
He paused, his fingers covered in calluses showing no signs of crystallization.
He slowly raised it, pointed at himself, and then solemnly scanned every compatriot covered with star-blue ice crystals around the campfire.
Finally, his fingertips, as if carrying a tremendous force, pointed towards the direction from which the deepest, dark blue starlight was flowing from behind the cave.
"The 'Deephearth' branch of the Graybeard clan..." Torge's voice sounded like an ancient bronze bell ringing in a tomb, carrying a heaviness that pierced through endless time. "These people before you are all there is. And I, Torge Graybeard, am the current leader of Deephearth."
Mark's heart sank slightly when he heard Torge's words.
He looked around and saw only thirty or forty people!
This number can no longer be considered a clan.
Mark is not a person who likes to meddle in other people's affairs, but as Enzo's teammate, he hopes that the tribe that Enzo returns to is in better condition.
At least it shouldn't be in the current state of near extinction.
It seemed that he saw the pity in Mark’s expression.
Torge smiled calmly.
A trace of resolute determination surged in his gray-blue eyes. He poked his finger heavily into the invisible air and added:
“Young human, you don’t have to feel sorry for us… The Graybeard Dwarves are both miners and forgers.
"Since I seek the treasure of the Star Remains, it is my fate to become its prisoner."
The old patriarch's Adam's apple rolled, as if he wanted to take a breath:
"I don't know how you managed to avoid the erosion of the Star Relic Heart. Young man, if your strength recovers, I advise you to leave here as soon as possible, otherwise you will also be at risk of alienation."
Torge's hoarse exhortation seemed frozen in the stagnant air of the ice cave.
Mark slowly rubbed the blood scabs on his knuckles, his eyes piercing through the jumping blue flames of the campfire, looking at the star debris barrier deep in the cave that was flowing with dim light.
"My mission is not yet complete, I cannot leave." Mark's low voice echoed between the ice walls, "I am traveling with a dwarf named Enzo Graybeard.
"He fell asleep in a lake formed by a fallen meteorite over two hundred years ago. When he woke up, much had changed. He now came to the Arctic Icefields, hoping to return to his people."
Mark paused for a moment and continued, "Although the meteorite fall could have created such a large meteorite lake, we haven't found any record of it in the scriptures or history of the Holy Light Church.
"Is this also a secret belonging to you, Graybeard, or the dwarves? The falling meteorite at that time not only contained starlight but also dark magic."
Torge's bronze face, which had not been corroded by ice crystals, suddenly froze. For the first time, the shock of a living person surged in the depths of his old pupils.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
