Heart of the Mountain

Because of their yearning for the Dwarf King, because of the reverence for the Dwarf King passed down through their souls and bloodlines, the dwarves of Heavenly Armament Valley had spent several centuries carving a magnificent palace into a mountain tens of thousands of meters tall at the end of the valley.

For over a thousand years, the dwarves had carved out and expanded this palace, while exhausting every means at their disposal to decorate it.

An entire cliff a thousand meters high and several thousand meters wide had been carved into the palace entrance. From left to right stood twelve statues of the most famous Dwarf Kings from dwarven mythology. Clad in armor and gripping warhammers, they sat majestically upon their thrones, lightning and thunder coiling around them, flames and dragons circling them, looking down from on high upon the countless living beings in the vast square.

The square before the palace was ten thousand meters long and wide. Earth-yellow boulders had been polished as smooth as mirrors and laid out in neat rows to form the immense plaza. The dwarves' seemingly heaven-gifted craftsmanship was displayed here at its finest—the seams between the massive stones were so seamless that not even a thin sheet of paper could be slipped inside.

Guarded by the six Dwarf King statues on each side was the palace's formal entrance.

The gate, over a hundred meters tall and twenty meters wide, was incomparably majestic—such an enormous gate had been built expressly to allow the Dwarf King to pass through. After all, ordinary dwarves who awakened the Dwarf King bloodline stood seven or eight meters tall, and once they awakened the bloodline of the ancient giants, a Dwarf King might reach dozens of meters in height. Such a massive Dwarf King naturally required a massive