Throne of Magical Arcana

A gloomy and dark castle stands by the lake with black ducks floating on it, and its spiers with strong ancient magic empire style are like javelins.

Harold Steel Hammer carried a bag of ore and walked towards the warehouse of the castle with heavy steps and slow movements.

As a minor dwarf, he is not like those muscular elders who wield a huge hammer like a toy. Such a bag of ore is indeed a bit too heavy for him.

However, Harold didn't have any complaints about the heavy physical labor, at least he could survive, at least he didn't have to be the food of the vampire master like those selected delicate dwarves.

This is the castle belonging to the "Great Blood Count" Vlad Cecil, who controls hundreds of dwarf villages around him, selects "pure blood and flesh" from them as food, and drives the remaining slaves to mine in the mines He worked with the castle to mine and smelt Needham Gold unique to the Night Plateau, as well as rare Karamo Refined Iron and Mithril for him.

From birth, the dwarves seem to have been doomed, either to become food, or to die early after the power in their bodies is squeezed, and the scenery of their lives is only the part that combines for the reproduction of offspring.

Although he never left the village where he was born and the castle of Earl Vlad, Harold "heard" that no matter whether it was the desolate south where he was now, or the north where the reputation of horror spread, the dwarves in other parts of the plateau, the survival The situation is always like this, and the pain continues numbly.

Thinking of this, Harold raised his head, looked up at the darkness that would always hang over the plateau, looked up at the bright and bright constellations, feeling a little dazed and sad:

"Could it be that my life is moving forward miserably along such a fixed track, without a shred of hope? Could it be that our dwarves will never be able to restore the glory of ancient times?"

Crack, sharp pain came from Harold's face, and a welt oozing blood suddenly appeared on his left face, and stretched across the dwarf's unique big nose to the right.

"Hurry up, why are you in a daze!" came the vicious voice, and the shadow of the whip was still echoing in front of his eyes.

Yes, the dwarves have more than two fates, they can also abandon their ancestors, please vampires like a dog, become their blood slaves, and take care of their companions in turn.

How can a vampire who claims to be elegant and noble manage dirty miners and coolies by himself? Naturally, servants are needed to do tedious tasks. However, each vampire's first embrace will consume the source of his own blood. If a weak vampire develops more descendants , itself will decay ahead of time, so even high-level vampires are unwilling to embrace and produce offspring at will.

Moreover, vampires think highly of themselves, and regard most of the lives of other races as dirty and lowly creatures. In a smaller area, there are a large number of blood servants who have been sucked by them but have not died, and obey orders like puppets.

As a blood servant, his strength is close to that of a formal knight, but he will never improve, his life span is only one-tenth of his master's, and he will never be able to resist his master, or even think of rebelling.

Harold glanced at the dwarf who was holding a whip and wearing gorgeous clothes, and lowered his eyes to prevent the hatred and anger in his eyes from being noticed by him: "Yes, butler Wells."

This abominable traitor, I don't know how many people of the same race have been reported and beaten to death, and he is obviously only a supervisor, but he likes to be called a butler. When the real vampire butler Galata appears, he can't wait to kneel on the ground and kiss each other's shoes tip.

The red-haired dwarf Wells shaved off his proud beard because his owner Vlad hated beards, revealing his bumpy face. Seeing Harold's "handsome" With a big brown beard, he couldn't help being bored in his heart, and with a wave of his right hand, he gave him a whip again:

"What were you thinking just now? Dwarves don't need to think! Do you understand? I ask you if you understand? You dirty, dirty bastard dwarves!"

He seems to have forgotten that he is also a dwarf, and completely regards himself as a noble blood servant who is only slightly worse than the orthodox blood.

"Understood, Butler Wells." Harold's hands holding the ore bag were bruised.

"Get out!" Wells didn't dare to delay the progress, lest he be scolded by the housekeeper, Mr. Galata.

As soon as Harold took a few steps, Wells' vicious and vicious voice became extremely obsequious: "Good afternoon, Mrs. Tess, Mr. Galata, please go this way, it's full of ore powder, it's very messy, and it smells foul. The dwarves will charge you."

Even without looking back, Harold could still imagine Wells bowing his head to please, and the meticulous style of the tall vampire butler Galata - he was always wearing a black suit and a neat bow tie.

And Mrs. Tess must still have that beautiful and enchanting appearance, with long blond hair, slender and moderately proportioned figure, and green eyes like lake water, she has not changed since she was first embraced by Earl Vlad as a vampire.

When Harold thinks of Mrs. Tess, Harold feels very heartbroken and sad. She is the most beautiful female dwarf in hundreds of nearby villages and the lover of his dreams. Unfortunately, she was favored by Earl Vlad and became his The Vampire Bride.

As the cool wind from the plateau blew, Harold lowered his head and slowly moved forward with the ore bag on his back. A clear and clear voice like birdsong came from behind: "Hurry up and smelt the ore, don't let them be lazy."

"Pay attention to the investigation. Some dwarves who sneaked away have formed a rebel army. We cannot let them destroy the mine."

…………

He was busy until the position of the constellation changed, and the evening came, which was no different from before. Harold ended his heavy labor and got a chance to breathe. Then he left the castle with the rations issued-two black bread, and went to the nearby village. return home.

As he was walking, Harold suddenly looked around vigilantly. Seeing no one around, his expression immediately became agitated, and he turned into a remote road, walking quickly with the darkness on his back and the starlight on his back.

After walking for about ten minutes, after passing through several sparse black "Wind Poplar" forests, Harold saw an ordinary boulder.

He looked around again, then cautiously, tiptoed to the back of the boulder, and tapped the stone surface lightly.

"Steam is supreme." The strange dwarven word came out of his mouth, like a spell but without any spiritual power.

Just as the sound disappeared, a gap suddenly appeared on the boulder, as if a door had opened. A gray-faced dwarf stuck his head out and looked around, then waved his hand: "Come in, Harold."

Harold sneaked in nimbly, watched the dwarf close and lock the stone door, and threw a piece of black bread at him: "Uncle Warren, I'm going down first."

"Go, the Great Elder is waiting for you, my children." Warren took the black bread, dipped in the water, biting his teeth very well, as if he had been hungry for a long time.

Harold understood that Uncle Warren and the dwarven rebels hiding underground had been short of food for a long time, which was why they were like this, so he shook his head sadly and inexplicably, and walked down the passage to the depths of the ground.

While drinking the clear water he carried with him and eating black bread, he lamented the grandeur and grandeur of the underground palace built by his ancestors, which made people deeply shocked:

"Why was such a great ancestor defeated by a vampire?"

"Could it be detested by the gods?"

There are many murals carved on the stone bricks on both sides, there are overwhelming airships, steamships sailing on the ocean, terrifying cannons bombarding giant dragons, and steam trains running on the plains... Although Harold has already seen These murals have been painted many times, but every time he sees them, he can’t help feeling overwhelmed, so he loves to listen to the great elder Augustus heartbrokenly telling about the steam age, thinking about the glorious civilization of his ancestors, it seems that just thinking about it, life is full Hope inherits the glory.

At the end of the passage, there is a hall that looks like a sacrificial hall. On both sides are rows of small rooms. The roar of steam can be heard continuously from inside. A number of strong dwarves are driving the steam sledgehammer to forge weapons.

"Harold, are you here?" A dwarf with a long white beard nodded slightly at Harold, then followed his gaze, and sighed softly: "It's a pity that our civilization has been lost. We can’t manufacture complex steam engines, cannons, and rifles at all, and we can only create sharper long swords and axes. But this can only deal with blood servants, and there is no way to deal with vampires, let alone the north where the terrifying vampires are.”

His tone was vicissitudes and desolation.

"Great Elder..." Several "senior officials" who were dressed simply but had a slightly higher status than other dwarves stopped them. How could they create an atmosphere of despair within the rebel army.

The Great Elder Augustus smiled calmly and calmly: "Mirna, Quiggins... We must let the people who follow us understand our situation. This is a road with no hope at all. It is a path of numb kneeling Live, or defend the glory of the ancestors with blood, die like a real dwarf, you must make your own choice."

"Steam is supreme!" A roar suddenly sounded from the small houses on both sides, "Anyway, they are destined to die in pain!"

Sharing the food, Augustus asked Harold about the castle's recent movements. They chose Earl Vlad's place to hide because they heard that he was traumatized by "magic magic" in a certain war in his early years and had never fully recovered. , needs to sleep frequently to keep itself from decaying.

"... Madam Tess is ordering the blood servants to look for you..." After Harold reported the only news he knew, he looked at Augustus expectantly: "Elder Elder, can you tell me about the ancient steam? A civilized thing?"

The pretty young dwarf Milna is also full of expectations. Listening to the story of the past told by the elder is a rare "light" in the difficult life of the rebels.

"...We dwarves once ruled the vast land. At the mouth of the endless ocean, on the banks of the Negnin River, and in countless prosperous places, there are huge cities we built...The chimneys made of steel are like forests Standing tall, spouting billowing black smoke, sometimes it can even block the sun, making the day dark..."

"... There are huge steam trains running between the cities, and it only takes a few hours from here to the north... Every dwarf can get enough food and use various mechanical products, such as lifting people to the top of the building Steam lifts, such as steam boilers that always have hot water for you to take a shower..."

"...the great dwarf warriors are carrying high-pressure steam packs, mechanical arms, and steam rifles, exploring the dangerous wilderness...steam engine ships are sailing on the vast ocean, and the huge barrels make the enemy surrender..."

Although they don't know much about daytime and sunshine, it doesn't prevent Harold, Milna, and the other dwarves from listening with gusto. It's the heaven they dreamed of.

Combined with the murals, the city of steam machinery came to their minds so vividly.

Harold clenched his fists tightly and vowed to rebuild such a dwarf city one day.

When telling these, Augustus's expression was full of pride and yearning, and the folded petals on his face seemed to be in full bloom.

"Okay, that's all for today. It's time for us to worship the god of steam, the great ruler of life and death." Augustus got up and walked to the center of the hall, where there was an altar with strange patterns painted on it.

"Great Elder, is it really useful?" Milna, a flaxen-haired girl, asked suspiciously.

Augustus glared at her and said sternly: "When we excavated this ruin, didn't we find the rituals of our ancestors to sacrifice to the gods? They are so powerful and smart, how could they do useless things? I If our civilization is destroyed, it must be because we have neglected the God of Steam and been abandoned by him, so we need to be more devout in order to regain his favor."

"Yes, Great Elder." In this desperate situation, any chance could make the dwarves ignite the torch of hope.

Therefore, all the dwarves, including Harold, gathered in front of the altar, following the elder, making strange gestures and movements, and dancing inexplicable dances.

"O great god of steam, your devout servant prays to you."

Thank you Goose Feather for pushing your friend to become the leader. You tipped me once at the end of last month, thank you very much~