After Being Sold Out By The Empire, I Decide To Assist The Demon King-Chapter 315 - 59: Dwarf, Beast, Teach

"Gwah! Molten Fire spins! One hundred thousand horses’ strength! It’s just mere cold! Watch me hammer it back!"

"Show the frost your might! Bronze hammer!"

"There will always be a way!"

"Using a hammer?!"

"Dwarves! Stand firm on the earth!"

"Am I weaker because I lack strong liquor?"

"I am the forge!"

"..."

This was an extremely absurd scene... How should I put it? The position of the Beastman Country was further north of both the Empire and the Duchy, at the very northern edge of this continent.

So, the impact of the cold here was even more severe.

If in Silver Moon Tree Court there were delicate snowflakes falling, then here it was a dreadful blizzard. By rights... the dwarves should have only been able to hide underground, waiting for the blizzard to pass.

As for the huge forges and anvil toolsets on the surface, which couldn’t be moved underground in time, they could only let them sink into the blizzard until one day the snow melted away.

*Is that how it should be?!*

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"

"Oooooooooooooooooooooh!!!"

"..."

A large crowd of dwarves roared, holding hammers of varying sizes in their hands, frantically hammering at empty air. Meanwhile, another group of dwarves was busily moving materials and devices underground.

"Hoo ho ho ho ho ho ho ho ahhhhhhhhh!"

"Retreat!"

"Retreat!!"

"Retreat!!!!"

"Retreat!!!!!!"

No, their roars indicated they weren’t hammering at air!

Visible to the naked eye, the omnipresent, biting snowstorm was indeed being driven back... This was highly uncalled for since snowflakes and cold winds had no physical form.

These short-statured dwarves, whether male or female, all with beards, persistently fought against the icy wind... One hammer, two hammers, three hammers, four hammers, five hammers—if it wasn’t enough, they just kept accelerating faster and faster!

Until they had pushed all the calamity away from their comrades!

...

Struggling against the cold calamity was a long process. After a long while, the dwarves responsible for moving began to push the enormous forge down into the ground.

"It’s done! Ahhhhhhh!!!"

"Oooooooooh!!!"

Amid cheers, the dwarf warriors on the outermost edge started their own celebrations but were soon swept off their feet by the storm, tumbling messily into the underground entrance.

Then, the dwarves who had already prepared for this, responsible for receiving, braced themselves against the huge snowstorm and began pushing the massive half-open iron doors shut... But the immense wind pressure made it hard to close the doors.

"Watch me! Molten Fire spins! Nine thousand nine hundred horses’ strength! Damn it, close!!!"

"Olive, you shit! Close it now!!!!!!"

"..."

"Boom!"

With the sound of the doors shutting, the dwarves hurriedly locked numerous bolts... and the surroundings finally quieted down, with the sound of the storm no longer in their ears.

"What an inexplicable blizzard!"

A dwarf spat these words, her voice sounding tough like a man’s as she twirled her beard, looking at another dwarf boy seated on the throne, lost in thought, and asked, "Emperor, what on earth has happened?!"

Then, other dwarves quickly echoed her sentiment, nodding as they voiced their questions: "Spring had already come! Summer is nearly here! What kind of madness is plaguing this damn weather?!"

"..."

The only dwarf without a beard, the Dwarf Emperor, shook his head helplessly and replied calmly, "I don’t know either. When the elf trade caravan arrives, we’ll ask them about the situation... Does anyone have specific information?"

This sounded very much like a scene from a port city comic culture, where the Dwarf Emperor was the most reasonable one. He glanced around at all the dwarves and said, "How are the other cities? Should we check through the passages?"

In response, the dwarves gave a scholarly yet amicable reply:

"How the hell should we know, Emperor! We follow your orders! Should we go support the other cities?!"

"..."

"Sigh..."

The Dwarf Emperor rubbed his temples helplessly, then nodded and said, "Alright then, go ahead... help everyone move their equipment underground."

The dwarves said, "Got it, Emperor! We understand your mighty will! We understand you..."

"..."

Unable to keep up with everyone’s pace, the Dwarf King nodded... he could only nod, or else he’d be overwhelmed.

He really regretted being born a dwarf.

——————————

"Hey! Don’t sleep! Wake up!"

A cat beastman dressed in thick winter clothing shook a sleeping snake beastman lying on the ground, already covered in a thin layer of snow, showing no signs of life.

In response, the cat beastman used Mana to warm the snake beastman’s body temperature while spotting many members of the Slippery Tribe asleep in this village. She loudly called for her rescue team partners, "Get over here! There are many people here!"

For the Beastman Country, the sudden cold was extremely lethal. Beastmen like the lizards, crocodiles, and snakes would fall into an irresistible slumber due to the abrupt cold.

If they hadn’t replenished their nourishment before sleeping, they might starve to death in their long sleep.

Thus, the beastmen of the Furry Tribe had to form rescue teams or suffer heavy losses... but even they feared the cold.

This was not easily overcome by mere willpower.

So, the rescue work would be very slow...

——————————

"Has it arrived? Destruction of the World Act Two."

Mille Milyan mumbled to himself, his handsome face blinking as he gazed at the chaotic stained-glass windows in the grand cathedral... In the pallid sunlight, the disordered reflections on the ground mirrored the confusion.

However, in Pope Milyan’s eyes, those chaotic patterns kept reshaping... forming scenes that revealed the future. In his vision, deep blue and pure white combined to create page after page of Chapters.

"What path shall we take... O divine being... I..."

As he spoke, Mille slapped himself, instantly regaining the firmness in his previously confused eyes. He admonished himself: "God is not to be trusted... God no longer exists..."

Strengthening this belief within himself, since the churchgoers who had gone out for aid hadn’t returned yet, Mille healed the red handprint on his face... He had to stay determined.

"May the next disaster reveal itself to me sooner... so I can... save everyone... I must..."

Mille struggled as he spoke, forcing his bloodshot eyes wide open, staring intensely at the patterns on the ground, focusing on the intricate color combinations.

*Hold on, let me! See! Again!!*

"Father, mother, grandfather, ancestors... watch over me... I want! To protect humanity!!!!"

...

"Ah!!!!"

The returning bishop heard Pope Mille’s scream, and as the two bishops who were quietly discussing glanced at each other, they immediately rushed into the cathedral, seeing Mille with his hand covering his left eye.

"Your Holiness! Are you alright?!"

To the anxious inquiry of one of the bishops, Mille said nothing. Covering his eye with his hand, blood oozing from between his fingers, he was relieved and carefree as he said, "Beware... the third calamity is... the sea..."

"..."

After Mille spoke, he immediately collapsed...

"Your Grace?!"

"Your Holiness! Someone, get help!"

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