Two 'Prince' Highnesses?

Two 'Prince' Highnesses?

The brutal battle at the Dwarf cave entrance had ended.

Some blood-soaked Dwarf Warriors braced themselves against the walls and staggered out of the cave. At last, they saw their saviors!

"Pure-Blood Elves? Elves from Blackleaf Forest?"

"Why are they here?" a Dwarf exclaimed.

"Elves from Border Town. You haven't gone out on patrol, so you don't know that an Elven Prince has arrived in Border Town..." A short but extravagantly dressed Dwarf Warrior raised his brows as he spoke.

"A Pure-Blood Elf prince? How could he have come to a place like this?"

"He's already at the edge of Blackleaf Forest. This Elven Prince is being far too careless. Isn't he afraid of being captured by evil people?" someone said worriedly.

"How would I know?" Odom explained, with a trace of envy in his voice, though he was not wrong.

Because in terms of bloodline—

William was indeed a prince among the Black Leaf Elves!

The royal bloodline of Blackleaf Forest was extremely scarce, and many had died on the battlefield. Elves were also a long-lived race with painfully low fertility, so they did not place much importance on generations. As long as the Elven King was alive, every descendant with royal blood would be granted the title of princess or prince!

And every princess and prince had the right to inherit the throne!

But the key lay in one's own influence, support, and the Elven King's decree.

Unfortunately, William's father was human...

By bloodline, he was a prince of the Black Leaf Elves. Even with his five hundred personal guards, he barely received the treatment of a minor prince.

Unfortunately—

He did not possess an official title!

The reason Odom had decided he was an Elven Prince was because he had secretly observed him before. He had seen the five hundred Elven guards treat William with extraordinary respect, which was enough to prove that William was an Elf prince!

Only the dignity of the Elven Royal Family could make other Elves bow their heads respectfully.

"Wait, what did you mean when you said it was too careless for him to come here?" Odom asked with an irritated expression, turning around with his hammer in hand.

The Dwarf Warrior who had spoken earlier immediately shut up. He pretended to study the cave wall, as though he wanted to scrape off some Mithril with his fingers...

Because Odom's bloodline was also royal. He was the final heir of the Lonely Mountain Royal Family!

The last king of Lonely Mountain, Odom Heavyhammer!

Perhaps humans of this era had long forgotten the surname Heavyhammer, but in the past, its brilliance had not paled in comparison to that of the Elves. It was far beyond the surnames of the seven Dwarf Kingdoms.

But after Audero Heavyhammer, the Emperor of Lonely Mountain, fell, a Dwarf civil war erupted.

The Dwarves truly loyal to the descendants of the Emperor of Lonely Mountain suffered grievous casualties and could only flee with the sole young prince.

As for the Dwarves who had started the war, they claimed that because they could not find the true royal heir, they had "regretfully" crowned themselves kings.

Who had started the civil war?

At least half of the current seven Dwarf Kingdoms had participated...

Elegant and proud as the Elves were, even with many fierce accomplishments in battle, they always gave Dwarves the feeling that they were too delicate and should not come to such dangerous places...

As for sturdy, thick-skinned Dwarves?

Of course they could go anywhere...

"Remember, don't reveal my surname. From now on, my surname is Ironhammer. Odom Ironhammer, Grandmaster Blacksmith!" Odom said decisively after seeing Lotner finally defeat the Pale Orc.

The other Dwarf Warriors nodded one after another. The situation was obvious.

This Elven Prince from Border Town had come to rescue them, so the price they would have to pay would certainly be more than just the Mithril Vein. Besides, Odom had plans of his own...

Yet while they were talking—

The one-on-one battle had also come to an end.

Lotner had fought with a ruthless strategy of trading injury for injury. In a burst of rage, he severed the Pale Orc's head with one stroke.

"The boss is dead?" The Orcs were stunned.

"Oh, shit!" A Berserker Orc saw the Elves closing in and decisively threw away his weapon. With practiced ease, he picked up an iron pickaxe from the ground, swung it a few times, found it fairly comfortable to use, then began pretending to dig at the ground.

When the other Orcs saw this, they immediately dropped their weapons and looked around, as though the Pale Orc from earlier had nothing to do with them.

William could not help wanting to laugh at the sight...

But the proud Elven guards would not allow him to laugh...

So he shut his mouth and slowly walked over to Lotner, who had his back to them.

Lotner's longsword rested against the ground, both hands lightly gripping its hilt. His cold gaze swept over every Orc, his bearing overwhelmingly domineering.

"Resist, or submit!" William said in a deep, expressionless voice, loud and clear!

"We submit!"

"We submit..." The Orcs all fell to their knees, declaring their surrender!

Based on their experience fighting Elves, they knew that Elves generally did not kill prisoners. They only killed enemies who fled or resisted. At worst, the other captives would become miners!

As for the best treatment?

Becoming the leader of the miners of their own race...

There was nothing bad about becoming a miner.

There was a certain chance of escaping.

They could even eat and drink well... That was probably impossible, but not dying immediately was already enough.

Most importantly—

Lotner put far too much pressure on them.

The Pale Orc they had once looked up to had been easily cut down by Lotner. His dead head, eyes still open, lay beneath Lotner's foot.

That sight alone was enough to put immense pressure on the Orcs.

Orcs especially liked submitting to the strong, just as they were willing to endure the constant threat of death in order to become a Dragon's clan.

Besides, even if they wanted to run, they needed the chance. This was a forest...

"Disarm all of them. Make them take off all their upper-body armor, then bring them to the Iron Ore Vein first!" William waved his hand, and Nock directed the Elven guards to lead the group away.

Afterward—

He turned toward the Dwarves at the cave entrance and grinned. "Friends of the Dwarves, I hope my rescue arrived in time!"

Odom Heavyhammer Favorability +188

Pete Boulderstone Favorability +230

Rona...

Seeing the series of favorability increases, William could not help raising his brows slightly, a pleased smile appearing on his face.

No matter what—

If he had not led the Elven forces here to rescue them, the Dwarves would surely have been trapped within the mine vein and brutally slaughtered by the Orcs.

The favorability gained from that went without saying.

Unfortunately—

The faction favorability William had been most looking forward to was nowhere to be seen!

William twitched the corner of his mouth. He carefully examined the refreshed information again, and there really was no faction favorability...

What did that mean?

The Elven Prince without an official title was still pondering when he suddenly noticed the first person whose favorability had increased...

Odom Heavyhammer had only given him 188 favorability points. For saving his life, he had only given him a mere 188 points??

Didn't he know that a normal NPC's friendship had a maximum value of 1,000?

"Heavyhammer???" William's eyes suddenly widened. He carefully checked the information, then glanced at the slightly taller figure among the short Dwarves.

Golden hair, a resolute and handsome face, a height of one meter fifty-five. He even held a familiar-looking hammer, faint currents of electricity curling around it...

"Gasp..." William sucked in a cold breath. He could not help admiring the creators of Gods. Weren't they afraid of receiving a lawyer's letter from Marvel?

Still, he walked over with a broad smile. He slowly lowered the hand that had been about to pat the man's head onto his shoulder and said, "May I ask which of you is the leader?"

Odom Heavyhammer glanced at the slender hand on his shoulder before looking up at him. "Odom Ironhammer. I am their leader!"

William pondered for two seconds. "William Blackleaf. Is there anything you need help with?"

"The Orc attack has caused us heavy losses. I have decided to lead all the Dwarves under my command to join Border Town and seek protection. Would Your Highness welcome us?"

"Of course. Welcome to join us, eternal friends of the Elves." William smiled with narrowed eyes.

Your Highness?

Just those four words—

He was taking this little brother in!