First Light of a New Age

Chapter 101: Going On The Offensive

Iron Kingdom, Mount Meikneoir, The Iron Capital, The Iron Palace, The Iron Room, The Iron Throne.

1st Year of God, Friday, 3rd Week, Month Of Jonah.

Mount Meikneoir, a 7738 meter tall mountain that towered the rest of the kilometer-size mountain ranges. It is considered the tallest Mountain in the Third Civilization Zone, but not in the top 10 tallest in the world.

It is also where the capital city of the Iron Kingdom resides.

Built inside the mountain, with small metallic pipes on top of the hill to allow fresh air and light to seep through the city below.

In the middle of the city, a great waterfall dropped through a hole at the top of the mountain, forming into a pool in the central square where a massive statue of a dwarf was erected.

Beside the statue, there were many uniquely shaped infrastructures that ranged in sizes. However, though they were all different, the infrastructure brought anyone to feel a sense of awe upon looking at it.

From afar, they all looked like structural masterpieces as each infrastructure was built to the most delicate of details, showcasing the dwarves’ masterful craftsmanship.

Right now, the Iron Capital was excessively lively, as the streets were overflowing with numerous celebrations transpiring everywhere in the Iron Capital.

The recent news about the victories of the Iron Kingdom against the Tarxan Coalition and its allied nations was all singing through the ears of the citizens and had become the talk of every corner. But the same could not be said towards the inferiors, who were scapegoated as the root cause of the war.

It all happened because of some inferior cunt who dared to challenge the natural order by believing that they could be better than the magical superior, so it triggered a conflict that had consumed countless lives. As of now, these individuals faced harsher persecution than ever.

Meanwhile, the dwarves carried on their daily lives merrily happily, blissfully unaware of the news about reaching the Iron Palace, news so shocking that even the third civilization zone, sheltered from the chaos of the higher zones, would be left reeling. For while such phenomena were theoretically possible in the upper echelons of civilization, they were deemed impossible here, where magical knowledge reigned supreme and science remained a neglected curiosity. 

Moving on, the news of many victories of the Iron Kingdom had rejuvenated the spirits of every soldier who had an entirely negative outlook before the war even started, especially those stationed at the Iron Wall, a volatile border perpetually besieged by the Orc Warbands.

That place has always been in a constant time of warfare and so this morale boost was the one the soldiers of the Iron Kingdom needed the most, especially those who had long endured the endless grind of war.

At the heart of the capital, the dwarven king, or the Grandlord, hosted an extravagant feast for the kingdom's people. The halls of the palace echoed with laughter, clinking glasses, and the bustle of butlers and maids serving the people.

Dwarves, true to their reputation, reveled in their love of alcohol. However, they considered attempts to bribe them with alcohol a grave insult, a nuance outsiders often failed to grasp. 

“Ah, you dandies, prancin’ about with ya heads full of eyeballs!”

“Did you see what I did to that elf? He was like KA-BOOOOOM!”

“*Unintelligible Gibberish Drunk Noises*”

“Howfur wis yer day at wirk?” one dwarf asked, barely coherent.