Chapter 80: Iron Wall
"Voss?"
The lead Dwarf, whose helmet was cracked from the worm attack, frowned. He looked at Damien, then at his subordinates, then back at Damien.
"Never heard of it."
Damien blinked.
In the Dragon Empire, the name Voss was enough to make babies stop crying and nobles wet themselves. It was synonymous with darkness, power, and fear. To hear someone say "Never heard of it" was... refreshing, but also problematic.
"It’s a human noble house," Damien explained smoothly, wiping worm blood from his sleeve. "My father is Theron Voss. He is an old friend of King Durin."
"Friend of the King?" The Dwarf scoffed, spitting on the sand. "Every human who comes to the border claims to be the King’s long-lost cousin. Listen, lad. You saved our lives, and for that, the Ironclan owes you a debt. But debt or no debt, the law is the law."
He gestured to his men. The surviving dwarves levelled their rifles, not at the worms, but at Damien.
"The border is sealed. No humans allowed. Especially not armed ones with... whatever that was," he eyed Leona and Isabelle warily.
"If you want to enter the Dwarf Empire, you do it as prisoners. We’ll take you in for questioning. If your story checks out, you drink ale with us. If it doesn’t, you rot."
He pulled out a pair of heavy, rune-inscribed iron shackles.
"Hands."