Dragon Genesis: I Can Create Dragons - Chapter 505: Velmourns will die.
Chapter 505: Velmourns will die.
A/N: Again, from here on out, I won’t write the translators repeating their words to avoid pointless word count, just know it is being done in the story. They do not suddenly know each other’s language.
…
“Fine, we’ll talk.”
Kael stared at the Stonefang Chief for a long time and finally, he heaved a sigh of relief and nodded.
Hearing those words, Gruumak rose slowly from his stone seat. The sound of his heavy boots shifting and the low growl of his Thunderspine Rauk echoed in the still valley.
He looked at Kael and nodded once, then motioned with his hand toward the back of the vale.
“Come,”
He said in a low voice.
At his words, Lavinia held Kael’s hand even more firmly, as if she was unwilling to let him go, and Kael—
“It’s just a talk, don’t worry.”
He placed his hand on top of hers and spoke in a calm tone.
“He won’t try anything.”
“And what if he does?”
This time, the one who asked the question was the Velmourn Matriarch. She didn’t look very convinced, especially after everything that had happened.
“He won’t.”
Kael repeated, though this time, his tone left no room for argument.
Gruumak noticed the tension and pointed again—this time toward the two translators, Zakaar and Freyal.
“Two come,”
He said simply.
“No others.”
The Stonefang warriors murmured among themselves with uneasy looks on their faces.
Their chief walking away with the Flying Man—the man who burned through their army and stood untouched—made them nervous.
If Kael wanted, he could kill Gruumak before they could even take a step forward, and this concerned them; they were worried about their chief’s safety.
On the Velmourn side, the reactions were even stronger.
“This is madness.
There is no reason for Kael to do this. If he wishes to talk, let him do it here.”
Kayden muttered under his breath, his hand tightly holding the hilt of his sword. Morvain, too, nodded at those words.
But Gruumak didn’t even look their way. His heavy steps echoed through the valley as he began walking down a narrow slope, expecting Kael to follow.
Kael gave Lavinia one last reassuring look, as if everything was under his control, then he turned to Freyal.
“Come,”
He ordered.
Freyal hesitated, looking toward Morvain. The Matriarch gave him a short nod, her eyes still full of worry, but in the end, she decided to trust Kael.
“Be careful.”
With a few last words, she let Kael go.
And so, Kael began to walk. Behind him, Freyal followed nervously, and on the other side, Zakaar walked with his chief.
Gruumak led them through a narrow passage cut into the cliffs. The air here was colder, thinner, and the sound of dripping water echoed from the frozen walls.
After walking for a few minutes, the four finally reached a flat platform surrounded by rocks. The mist here was thicker, swirling around their feet. Above them, icicles hung from the cliffs like blades.
Gruumak stopped, then turned to face Kael. Zakaar stood behind him, while Freyal remained beside Kael, clutching his cloak nervously.
“Now,”
And finally, Kael’s eyes met the Stonefang Chief again.
“Tell me. Why did you call me here?”
Gruumak didn’t answer right away. His gaze drifted to Freyal—the Velmourn translator. He frowned slightly, hesitating, as though wondering whether to speak at all.
But in the end, he took a slow breath and—
“Velmourns will die.”
He spoke in a flat, emotionless, but confident tone. As if what he stated was a sure fact, but a fact that did not bother him one bit.
And the instant Freyal heard and understood his words, he froze.
His mouth parted—but no words came out. His mind refused to believe what he’d just heard. He couldn’t even bring himself to translate.
Zakaar, standing behind Gruumak, saw his hesitation and, not wanting to waste time, he translated it for Kael instead.
And Kael’s expression changed.
He stared at Freyal, almost as if trying to make sure what Zakaar said was true. Freyal nodded slightly, still nervous.
Kael then turned toward Gruumak again and—
“Is it about the tribes coming together?”
He asked directly.
He and Lavinia already knew this in their heads, but having someone tell them directly was definitely… helpful.
Gruumak didn’t answer immediately. He looked down, as if weighing his words carefully. Then—
“Stormcallers,”
He began.
“They gather tribes. All tribes.”
His eyes lifted and looked right at Kael.
“They want war. Want take back land—land of ancestors Velmourn took. From one thousand… two hundred years.”
Freyal’s voice trembled as he translated the words to Kael, barely believing what he was saying himself.
Gruumak, however, did not stop.
“They say… push outsiders away.
Kill them all.
End Velmourns.”
Kael frowned deeply.
While Lavinia did say this was going to happen, something here did not make sense.
“Something’s wrong.”
Kael began. The weeks he had spent here in Heights weren’t in vain; he had done his research. This was the reason why he still couldn’t understand a few things.
Well, he did understand it, he just… needed a stronger confirmation, something only Gruumak could give him right now.
“The Velmourns have been staying in the Heights for twelve hundred years now, and before this, the tribes never came together simply because, as much as they hate the Velmourns, their hatred for each other is even stronger.
Every winter, all the tribes fight over land, food, and even water, and this battle isn’t just with the Velmourns, it is amongst each other too. And unlike the Velmourns, who never raid other tribes and only defend themselves, the tribes do raid each other and kill on sight.
There are even times when a few of these tribes fall to the brink of extinction because of these raids. Heck, more than eleven tribes have gone extinct in these past twelve hundred years because of these wars. So obviously, for most tribes, Velmourns—though outsiders—are considered much better than other tribes. Then…
Then how are these tribes together now?
It’s not just about the hatred either. Even if the tribes somehow ignore the deeply rooted hatred they hold for each other, the very operation of coming together to deal with the Velmourns shouldn’t be physically possible…”
The more Kael spoke, the bigger his frown became. His mind was thinking of more and more problems that the combined tribes’ troops would face.
“The tribes survive because they kill each other, lower their numbers so the resources can be distributed to the remaining people. If they gather together, that would mean not killing each other, more numbers and then…
Then they’ll have no food left for their numbers.
They’ll starve before they even reach the Velmourn Wall.
So… how do they plan on following through this?
Even if the Stormcallers are taking the lead, why are… the other tribes following them?”
Kael asked as he stared at Gruumak. Zakaar translated Kael’s words into his own language, and once Gruumak heard them, he turned back toward Kael and—
“Stormcallers,”
He repeated the name.
“They give food.”
“Food?”
Kael raised his eyebrow.
Gruumak nodded.
“Yes. Meat. Grains. Warm hides. They feed all who join. No tribe hungry now.”
He paused, his expression darkening.
“Stonefangs got offer too.”
Kael narrowed his eyes at those words, but the Stonefang Chief didn’t notice that. After Zakaar was done translating, he continued without letting Kael speak.
“They say—join them. Eat. Live.
Fight Velmourns, take back all.
No more hunger.
No more cold.
And they not lie.”
He turned toward Kael again with a grim look on his face and—
“Don’t know where they get food from. But they have much. Enough for all tribes. Enough to make tribes follow.”
When Zakaar translated those words—because Freyal was too shaken to say anything—Kael, for a moment, stayed silent. The frown on his face deepened, and his thoughts began to race.
Just as he expected.
The Stormcallers, the tribe that was barely surviving the previous winters, suddenly had enough food to feed all the tribes, give promises, and even plant spies within the Velmourns—
This obviously wasn’t something they could do alone.
They had help.
As for who could help them right now, Kael didn’t think Gruumak would know that. Of course, this didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.
He stared at the Stonefang Chief, wanting to probe more—
“Then why come to me?”
He asked quietly.
There was no point asking something else, since Gruumak already said he didn’t know where the food came from.
“Why not join them? The Velmourns aren’t strong enough to hold against the combined might of all tribes together. Joining them would give you victory for sure, but coming here and informing me…
It would put you and your people at risk, especially if the Stormcallers found out.
Then why do it?
Why take the risk?”
He asked in a calm tone, and Gruumak didn’t answer immediately.
“Flying Man let us live.”
He spoke after a good minute of silence.
“What?”
Kael blinked.
“Flying Man,”
Gruumak repeated, pressing his fist lightly against his chest.
“Let us live. When we fight… you could kill all. But you stop.”
His tone softened slightly.
“You let me, my warriors go.”
The words hung heavy in the air.
Freyal and Zakaar both stood silent—neither translating for a few moments, because both understood the meaning already.
Kael looked at Gruumak with a strange expression on his face.
Ever since he had come to this world, he had only paid the price for letting his enemies go, not killing them when he could, so much that mercy had started to lose meaning in his mind.
But this…
This was the first time it looked like… the kindness he showed would… give him something beneficial in return.
“I not forget,”
Gruumak said firmly.
“Stormcallers say kill Velmourns.
Kill Flying Man too.
I say no.
Because Flying Man… not like others.
He strong, but he see.”
Kael said nothing. He waited for Gruumak to complete.
And Gruumak added, in a quiet, heavy voice,
“So I come here.
To offer Flying Man… a place.”
“A place?”
Kael narrowed his eyes.
“Yes.”
Gruumak nodded.
“Leave Velmourns.
Come to us.
Join Stonefangs.
Live.”
Source: Webnovel.com, updated by novlove.com
