Chapter 124 The Choice Before Dawn Because it was a mountainous area, even...
Because it was a mountainous area, even on a midsummer morning, there was a slight chill in the air. The dwarf mother, Blinda, pulled her thin linen clothes tighter around her, clutching a still-warm earthenware jar she had just received from the human camp outside the city. Inside the jar was a steaming pot of tomato fish soup; the sweet, sour, and savory aroma, even through the thick earthenware walls and the sealed iron lid, stubbornly seeped out, stirring spasms in her already empty stomach, tormented by hunger.
She walked hurriedly along the narrow cobblestone streets of the working-class district, head down, trying to avoid the mixed gazes of her neighbors.
"Brinda, you...you really went to collect things from humans?"
A neighbor, an older woman who was also pale and thin, poked her head out from the doorway of her low stone house, her voice filled with worry and a hint of barely perceptible disdain.
"Are you crazy? Didn't you hear the notice the city guards posted the day before yesterday? His Highness the Crown Prince said that those are human poisons, meant to corrupt the will of us dwarves and make us as weak as they are."
Brinda stopped abruptly, instinctively clutching the pottery jar even tighter.
“But…but my Batong…” She turned around, her bloodshot eyes brimming with tears, “He hasn’t eaten for two days…last night he had a high fever and didn’t even have the strength to cry…”
“But you can’t eat human food!” the neighbor auntie exclaimed anxiously. She stepped forward and whispered mysteriously, “Haven’t you heard? Old Hammer’s grandson from the blacksmith’s shop secretly went out and drank that soup the day before yesterday. He came back vomiting and having diarrhea, and he’s still lying in bed groaning. Everyone says it’s a human conspiracy; it’ll make you addicted, slowly hollowing you out until you’re just an empty shell without a soul.”
These malicious rumors instantly gripped Brinda's heart.
She looked down at the pottery jar in her arms, which exuded an enticing aroma, and thought of her child at home, who was barely breathing due to hunger and disease. She was caught in a fierce internal struggle.
Back home, pushing open the creaking wooden door, a stench of bitter herbs and the musty smell of poverty hit me. The small stone hut was dimly lit; only in the corner lay a skeletal dwarf child, thin as a skeleton, on a stone bed covered with worn animal hides. His eyes were tightly shut, his face flushed red, and his cracked lips parted slightly, emitting weak, painful groans.
Brinda's heart was instantly shattered.
Without further hesitation, she carefully pried open the iron lid of the earthenware jar with trembling hands using a small hammer.
"Pop!"
A richer aroma of tomato fish soup suddenly filled the entire stone house.
Brinda looked at the large chunks of snow-white fish and soft, cooked tomato pieces floating in the bright red broth, and could no longer resist. She dipped her finger in the broth and carefully put it into her mouth.
The next second, her eyes widened suddenly.
A pure, fresh flavor brimming with vitality instantly struck her taste buds, sliding down her throat into her stomach, transforming into a warm current that instantly dispelled the hunger of the past few days.
It's so...so delicious...
She greedily licked her fingers again, then quickly scooped up a spoonful of warm soup, blew on it, and gently brought it to her child's chapped lips.
Ba Tong, who was in a coma, seemed to be awakened by the strange aroma. He subconsciously opened his mouth very weakly and put the spoonful of soup in his mouth.
Then his long eyelashes fluttered slightly.
Brinda watched this scene, and tears welled up in her eyes.
Who cares if it's poison or a conspiracy? At least for now, her child can live one more day.
...
The Heart of the Deeprock, the power center of the Forge Court.
In a windowless, completely black volcanic rock-built chamber, the eldest prince, Thorek Ironbeard, paced back and forth restlessly.
The agent, cloaked in black, knelt on one knee and reported in a hoarse voice:
"...Your Highness, the situation...is worse than we imagined. This morning, according to our statistics, more than eight hundred civilians have gone outside the city to collect human food. And...and that number is still increasing."
"Even more frightening is that some of the young miners responsible for guarding the mines have even started using their hoarded high-quality raw ore to secretly exchange for extra canned food from the human soldiers distributing the rations... Some soldiers have already begun to secretly accept these deals..."
"Bang!"
Sorek slammed his fist on the stone table next to him, and the hard volcanic rock corner was immediately cracked.
"Damn it." His face was ashen, and his eyes burned with raging fury. "If this continues, before the humans even attack the city, the people of my Forge Royal Court will be completely bought off by their petty favors."
“Your Highness, forgive my bluntness,” a thin, middle-aged dwarf in a long robe, who had been standing in the corner like a shadow, slowly stepped out.
He was none other than Green, Thorek's most trusted advisor.
"This might not be as simple as just winning people over. There could be a far more sinister conspiracy hidden behind it..."
Sorek stared intently at him: "What do you mean?"
A sinister smile curled at the corner of Green's lips: "Your Highness, don't you find it strange? That human nobleman named Ryan traveled thousands of miles to our city walls, not to attack, not to threaten, but simply to distribute food. What kind of kind-hearted human is there in this world? What's his motive?"
"...What's the point?" Solek frowned.
"They're after all of us." Green's voice suddenly rose. "Your Highness, just imagine, once all our civilians and soldiers are used to receiving human food every day and can't live without their magical canned goods... all they need to do is, one day, at the most crucial moment, secretly add a colorless and odorless slow-acting poison to every can of food they distribute..."
He paused, letting the terrifying idea ferment in Thorek's mind.
"At that time, our entire Forge Court will become a dead city overnight!"
Thorek's face turned deathly pale instantly.
This possibility... is not nonexistent. Human beings have been proven treacherous and cunning countless times throughout history.
“But…” he gritted his teeth and said, “You’ve seen the situation in the city. The common people have started to rely on that food. If I forcibly ban it, it might trigger civil unrest…”
“Therefore, we cannot ban it.” A ruthless glint flashed in Green’s eyes. “What we need to do is let everyone see the true nature of human food.”
"You want to..."
“I’ll arrange for a few reliable people to pose as civilians who have fallen ill after eating human canned food, and spread the word throughout the city. Meanwhile…” Green lowered his voice, “we can have someone go outside the city to collect a batch of human canned food, and then… add some seasoning, and have someone accidentally eat it…”
Sorek was shocked: "Are you crazy? People will die!"
"A few deaths are better than the entire city dying, aren't they?" Green sneered. "Besides, Your Highness, have you forgotten? The moderates have been secretly supporting peace talks with humans. If we could make one of their important figures unfortunately fall ill from human canned food..."
He didn't finish speaking, but the meaning was already quite clear.
Sorek remained silent for a long, long time.
Finally, he closed his eyes, his voice seemingly squeezed from the depths of his throat: "...Do as you say. But remember, it can't be a lethal poison, and it can't leave any evidence."
“Yes, Your Highness.” Green’s smile grew increasingly sinister.
...
The atmosphere inside the council chamber was as oppressive as a volcano about to erupt.
All the pro-war nobles and generals, along with a small number of moderates, gathered here, their faces etched with anger and worry.
"Gentlemen!" Green slammed his hand on the table and stood up abruptly, his deep-set eyes gleaming with a sharp light. "Aren't you all curious? Why would those humans travel thousands of miles, risking war with us, to come to our city walls and distribute those seemingly delicious foods for free without asking for anything in return?"
"Because they are kind, they want to use love to reform us savage dwarves?" a young nobleman mocked in an extremely exaggerated aria, which drew a burst of laughter.
“Wrong!” Green’s finger slammed down on the map, right on the human camp. “Because they’re investing. They’re using these sweet, cheap baits to invest in the trust and dependence of all our people!”
His voice was inflammatory: "Just think about it, once all our civilians and soldiers get used to collecting human food every day and become dependent on their canned goods, they can, at some crucial moment, secretly smuggle a colorless and odorless slow-acting poison into all the cans that are distributed..."
"absurd!"
An elderly elder, with white hair and beard and highly respected among the moderates, finally couldn't hold back any longer and stood up. Leaning on his rune-inscribed staff, he retorted sharply:
“Green, your guess is baseless. If humans really wanted to poison people, why would they wait until now? They could have done it on day one.”
"Shut up!" Sorek roared, instantly silencing all other sounds.
He stared intently at Green, his eyes bloodshot: "Go on."
Green glanced smugly at the old elder, whose face was flushed from being reprimanded: "Because it's not the right time yet. They're waiting, waiting for us to completely lower our guard, for the internal divisions to arise over food, and for His Majesty the King and His Highness the First Prince to be forced by public pressure to step onto the so-called negotiating table they've already prepared for us. Only then will they truly bare their fangs."
The interconnected, absurd yet conspiracy-ridden logic successfully stirred up fear and xenophobia in the hearts of the pro-war nobles present.
“That’s right, Lord Green is right. Humans have always been this treacherous!”
"We must not sit idly by and wait to die; we must strike first before they do."
The council chamber was filled with the smell of gunpowder, and shouts of killing were deafening.
...
After the meeting ended, the crowd gradually dispersed.
Sorek remained alone in the empty council chamber. He stared at the small marker on the map representing the human camp, speechless for a long time. A painful memory he had buried deep within his mind uncontrollably surfaced.
It was a disastrous winter, colder and more hopeless than any time in his memory.
That year, the human kingdoms suddenly closed all trade routes with the dwarves, citing a plague outbreak at the border that required quarantine. But all the dwarves knew this was nothing more than a despicable tactic by the humans to force them to concede on ore prices.
That winter, however, the blizzard arrived unusually early and was exceptionally fierce. The Furnace Kingdom's grain reserves were already low before the blockade began, and coupled with the sudden extreme cold, the situation within the city deteriorated rapidly.
His father made a difficult decision—to take all of the royal grain reserves and distribute them to the common people who needed them most. All the nobles and members of the royal family began to tighten their belts, saving their own rations to help the people.
During that time, the entire palace was bustling with activity. Father had to handle countless relief matters every day, Mother led the noble ladies to distribute food to the common people, and even he, the twelve-year-old prince, had to help carry supplies.
Everyone thought that as long as they gritted their teeth and got through the winter, everything would be fine.
But they overlooked one person—his five-year-old younger brother.
The little boy was so sensible; seeing his parents and brother so busy, he never complained of being hungry. His personal maid assumed the prince had someone to take care of him, while the person in charge of the care assumed the maid was watching over him. And so, while everyone was busy saving hundreds of lives, a tiny life slowly weakened in a corner unnoticed by anyone.
By the time they discovered it, the younger brother had developed a severe cold due to long-term malnutrition. The palace had the best doctors and the most precious medicines—nothing was lacking—but it was too late. His frail body was so weak that he couldn't even take the medicine.
As his younger brother breathed his last in his arms, he was still saying, "Brother, I'm not hungry... I'm really not hungry..."
At that moment, Sorek understood that sometimes what kills a person is not a sword, but being ignored, in that unnoticed corner when everyone is busy doing the "right thing".
Ironically, three days later, the human kingdom announced the lifting of the blockade. Merchants arrived at the city gates with mountains of grain, wearing hypocritical smiles, saying, "The plague is over, we can resume trade."
But his brother would never come back.
From then on, Sorek understood a principle—human kindness is always conditional. There must be a deeper calculation hidden behind their charity.
He didn't want his people to experience that despair again.
But he was also afraid, afraid that what Green said was true, afraid that his momentary soft-heartedness would bring annihilation to the entire Forge Court.
"Rather than sitting here waiting to die, either poisoned or starved to death..."
He raised his head, the last trace of hesitation in his eyes replaced by overwhelming anger and the resolute determination befitting a crown prince.
"Why don't we take the initiative?"
...
In the darkness of night, a somber atmosphere pervaded the military camp of the Forge Kingdom.
Thousands of heavily armored dwarven warriors were silently gathering. The dull thuds of clashing weapons and the warriors' hushed conversations echoed in the night wind.
The young sentry, Balg Bronzebeard, was also in the ranks. As he inspected the battle axe in his hand, he subconsciously touched the small terracotta pot hidden inside his breastplate.
That was the last jar of honey and fruit he had secretly traded with human soldiers outside the city that afternoon, using half a month's worth of his military pay.
"...Let's go back and eat after this battle is over..." he muttered to himself.
What he didn't know was that after this war, he might never have the chance to go back.
As night deepened, the temperature began to drop again.
The torches on the city wall flickered in the wind like hopes about to be extinguished.
Meanwhile, in the human camp outside the city, the campfire still burned warmly, and a huge iron pot was still cooking food to be distributed the next day.
Two distinct lights confronted each other in the darkness, as if foreshadowing an impending, unavoidable conflict.
The darkest hour is always before dawn.
But will the sunrise after dawn be stained with blood, or will it be the glimmer of peace?
Nobody knows.
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Author's note: [I'm exhausted] I'm done with all the work, and there are only two days of holiday left. What's the difference between this and a weekend? (Actually, there is a difference, my wallet is thin o(╥﹏╥)o)
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