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TWL Chapter 330: Old Grudges, New Threats
🕑 Added 2025-03-24 15:02:44 +0000 UTCAfter reading the letter from the Elder in Chief, the leader of the Zigrin clan gave a hearty laugh before speaking to Lann.
"Thank you, Duke Lannister. If not for your timely intervention, we would have lost several fine lads today. There would have been families grieving tonight—including some of Yarpen’s kin!"
"That was my purpose here," Lann replied humbly. "I only hope to help the Zigrin clan end this ordeal as soon as possible."
"I understand the Elder’s wishes. You need not worry. The Zigrin clan never forgets its friends," the chieftain said solemnly. "Back then, we shut our doors and found peace, but many among our kind still carry guilt over abandoning the elves. Turning our backs on those in need is not the dwarven way... Now, faced with a similar choice, we will not let history repeat itself."
Lann sincerely expressed his gratitude for the chieftain’s promise.
Since this monster-hunting campaign involved supporting both clans, they would need to finalize an action plan and coordinate their forces with the Fuchs clan the following day. While Lann’s team was better suited for slaying monsters, they still required local knowledge about the creatures’ habitats, distribution, and behaviors.
Besides, the dwarves might have some useful suggestions to make their task easier.
Night fell swiftly. Since the town’s structures were designed for dwarves, Lann and his company had to make do with tents.
The Cintrans soldiers, accustomed to military life, had no complaints—after all, they had endured far harsher conditions when their homeland fell. Gabor, however, was deeply apologetic, repeatedly expressing his regret. According to tradition, they should have been hosted in the capital, Mount Carbon, where lodgings for human dignitaries were available.
...
"I think there’s something very wrong with these two clans," Geralt remarked.
Lann’s tent was large—spacious enough to serve as a command tent for an entire regiment. At present, it housed all his close aides and trusted warriors. Even Blackwind had slipped inside, seeking warmth from the cold.
"They absolutely have issues," Lann confirmed, rubbing his temples. "I just hope we can finish dealing with these monsters quickly and avoid getting entangled in their feud."
Geralt frowned. "But if they send troops to Cintra, their clan rivalry will still affect you."
The White Wolf had a point, but Lann shook his head. "No, that’s a conflict I can mediate. This, however, is different. These two clans are blood enemies. If Brouver Hoog couldn’t settle their feud after centuries, I doubt I can do any better. My real fear is that our presence will become the spark that ignites an even greater disaster, shattering the fragile balance between them."
Geralt looked concerned at first, but after hearing Lann’s response, he let out a chuckle. "Lann, I think you've spent too much time worrying about northern politics. This is Mahakam. And they’re dwarves. What I mean is—no matter how much they hate each other, they’re still dwarves."
Lann shook his head again. "Geralt, turning on one’s own kind isn’t something only humans do. Not every dwarf is like Yarpen or Zoltan, loyal to their kin above all else."
Geralt frowned again, the expression deepening the weary, brooding look on his face.
"What is it? Something feels off to you?" Lann asked, curious.
The White Wolf nodded. "Yeah. If these two clans really despise each other that much, then why were they fighting the monsters together earlier? Dwarves are straightforward folk—if their hatred runs that deep, wouldn’t they just deal with things separately?"
…
"Because those hammer-brained Zigrins have their greedy eyes on our Fuchs mines! They’re just looking for another excuse to add to their long list of crimes!"
The next day, Lann, the Zigrin clan, and the Fuchs clan gathered by Davor's Pond.
The Zigrin clan had sworn to never allow the Fuchs clan to set foot on their own territory, while the Fuchs clan considered the people of the Zigrin clan to be filth. As a result, they ultimately chose a neutral area in the wilderness, equidistant from both clans' settlements, as the meeting ground.
At first glance, this meeting seemed more like a prelude to war than a negotiation—an unintentional yet fitting rehearsal for the conflicts that might arise in the future.
A large, millstone-sized rock served as a makeshift conference table. Not that it mattered much, because at the moment, it looked more like a dueling ring. The two clan leaders had already climbed onto it, teetering on the edge of an outright brawl.
From their heated argument, Lann finally understood why what was supposed to be a coordinated battle against the monsters had somehow devolved into a chaotic three-way skirmish.
"The Zigrin clan has always coveted our Davor's Abyss," the Fuchs clan leader spat out. "The moment they heard that the Great Cleansing’ hadn’t completely wiped out the creatures inside, they rushed over claiming they wanted to help us clear them out. But tell me—who brings building materials when they’re just here to exterminate monsters?"
His tone dripped with sarcasm. "They were just looking for an excuse to claim and set up a settlement in the mine, trying to take over the Fuchs clan's territory. But guess what? Turns out the mine was actually infested with monsters. Their little plan went down the drain! Ha! A bunch of mindless morons!"
The Davor Abyss was the very mine from which waves of Shaelmaars had emerged during the recent battle. It was a rare open-pit diamond mine in Mahakam, yielding an abundant supply of gems. Though all mined resources in Mahakam were officially turned over to Mount Carbon for communal use—never belonging to any individual clan—the right to exploit such a mine granted considerable influence in clan politics.
Zigrin's clan leader, his face twisted with anger, barked back, "Has your tongue been caught in a smith’s tongs, you damn Fuchs? The Davor Abyss was developed by both our clans together! When did it suddenly become yours alone?"
The Fuchs clan leader retorted with equal fervor: "When the Chief Elder assigned territories, we were given Davor's Abyss. In return, you gained additional access to Davor's Pond. It was a fair trade."
As he spoke, he stomped his foot hard on the ground, gesturing toward the vast artificial reservoir formed by a dam.
"Davor's Pond is enormous! What's the point of having more access?" sneered the Zigrin clan leader. "You've never fulfilled your agreed-upon allotment! You take all the water and fish you want!"
The tension reached its peak as the two clan leaders grabbed each other by the collars, fists clenched, ready to start swinging. Behind them, their warriors, bristling with hostility, looked poised to jump into the fight.
Lann let out a silent sigh. With a glance, he signaled to Gabor hoping he could step in before this turned into an all-out brawl.
This was definitely not a situation where Lann, an outsider, should speak up. It wasn’t that he lacked the ability, but he was wary of being dragged into the long-standing feud between the two clans, which would compromise his neutrality. If he got involved now, future negotiations—with both clans and even the Elder in chief—would become far more complicated.
Lann even suspected that the two chieftains were putting on a show in front of him, trying to bait him into taking a side. After spending time among the dwarves, he had learned one thing about them—they were nothing if not cunning.
Gabor couldn’t ignore Lann’s silent plea. In truth, ever since taking up his position at Mount Carbon, he had little desire to get involved in his clan’s disputes with the Fuchs. But duty was duty.
“Chieftain Zigrin, Chieftain Fuchs.” Gabor adjusted his vest and stepped forward. “Our guest is still here, and his time is limited.”
The leader of the Zigrin clan was immediately irritated. “Gabor, since when do you speak for outsiders?!”
The leader of the Fuchs clan, on the other hand, looked pleased with Gabor’s use of his proper title. With a mocking smile, he released the Zigrin clan leader's collar and took a step back.
“We Fuchs aren’t as stubborn or unreasonable as the Zigrin lot,” he said smugly. “What matters most right now is launching another Great Cleansing. Every second we waste arguing, the situation could be getting worse…”
“You must have had your tongue cut off with tongs—now you suddenly care about making sense?!” Exclaimed the leader of the Zigrin clan, almost jumping with rage.
Seeing that the conversation had finally shifted to the real issue, Lann stepped in.
“I trust both chiefs have read the letter from the Elder in Chief and have heard from your warriors about the recent battle.”
He was referring to the fight where he had killed the flying drake and reduced the Shaelmaars to ashes. Neither chieftain had witnessed his combat firsthand, and they still had doubts about his strength. But judging by their grim expressions, they understood the gravity of the situation.
“Previously, both of you requested reinforcements from the Elder due to a lack of manpower,” Lann continued. “Now that we’re here, that problem should be solved.”
“My warriors and I specialize in hunting monsters. But we’ll need both of you to tell us exactly what creatures lurk in these lands and where their nests are. This won’t just be another Great Cleansing—we’re going to wipe them out completely.”
He made his point clear. “That way, your warriors won’t have to worry about their families being attacked while they’re away.”
Behind him, the guards, in their standard lion armor, stood tall and in formation, emitting an intimidating aura.
The leaders of the Zigrin and Fuchs clans exchanged glances, then looked back at the warriors behind Lann. Their discipline and presence left no doubt: they were elite.
