Chapter 779

Chapter 779: What a Warlock Can Offer

“Misunderstanding!” Jesse raised his hands and said, “Don’t shoot. I mean no harm. I came to—”

“Misunderstanding?!” the Dark Iron dwarf roared, shaking his gun. “You killed my pet and call it a misunderstanding? Can I blow your head off and say it’s a joke?!”

As the dwarf shouted, his trigger finger twitched. Jesse’s palm clenched, and a crimson thread instantly yanked the rifle from the dwarf’s grip!

*BANG!* The shot ricocheted down the narrow corridor, screeching sharply. Jesse frowned while gripping the gun—its barrel already bent by Gorefiend’s Grasp.

This worsened everything. “I’ll kill you!”

The Dark Iron dwarf drew a dagger and leaped forward. Jesse seized his wrist and pinned his head down. The dwarf kicked and flailed wildly with freakish strength, yet Jesse restrained him effortlessly.

“Truly a misunderstanding! I’m not here to kill—just visiting! A fire elemental charged at me out of nowhere! I defended myself!”

“So was I! Protecting my home!”

The dwarf snarled an incantation. Flames coiled around his dagger, licking Jesse’s sleeve. But Jesse held fast, letting the fire scorch his wrist. The fabric burned away, yet his skin merely reddened without blistering.

The Dark Iron dwarf gaped at Jesse’s fire resistance. “What in hell are you?!” he spat through gritted teeth.

“Jesse Seso,” Jesse replied. “From Stormwind…”

Hearing the name, the dwarf froze. “Jesse Seso? The Deathwing-slayer? Impossible! You? Fighting the father of black dragons? Either the Red Dragons went mad, or I did!”

Jesse tightened his grip. “Technically, I didn’t kill him. I just… damn, it’s complicated. Sheathe the dagger first!”

“Let go… let go!” The dwarf’s roar became a whimper. “You don’t look tough—why’s your grip like a vise? My wrist’s cracking!”

“No more attacks if I release you,” Jesse warned.

“I can’t beat you anyway!” the dwarf shouted.

Jesse stepped back. The dwarf eyed his bent rifle and shattered elemental bracers below. “Feddel spoke Common. Didn’t you understand him?”

“The noise here overwhelmed me,” Jesse apologized. “First time in Ironforge—still adjusting. I missed his words.”

The dwarf straightened his tunic and beard, glaring coldly. After a long pause, he asked, “You’re truly Jesse Seso?”

“Swear it.” Jesse extended a ring-embellished hand. “My name’s engraved here.”

The dwarf studied the rings. His jet-black skin contrasted with his rust-red beard, which flickered like flames as he spoke. When his gaze fixed on the rings, Jesse noticed his blood-red eyes.

*Pure Ragnaros-fire scarring? Or some Old God’s dark curse?*

“Stormwind court mage sigil. Lordaeron knight’s ring.” The dwarf grunted. “The mage emblem looks right—though I can’t verify it. But that Lordaeron piece seems genuine. Fine.”

“Name’s Rueg. Dark Iron, as you see. Might’ve been a misunderstanding. Why’re you here, Seso? Seeking the Thorium Brotherhood?”

Jesse exhaled in relief. “In Stormwind, I heard of Dark Iron dwarves—especially the Thorium Brotherhood’s fire mastery. Came to learn fire magic.”

At the praise, the dwarf’s chin lifted slightly.

“Fire *magic*? I don’t do ‘magic.’ Go to Dalaran for that.”

“Not magic,” Jesse corrected. “The art of communing with fire elementals.”

The dwarf scowled. “Want our forging secrets?”

Jesse shook his head. Rueg’s eyes widened. “A Pyromancer, then?!”

“Pyromancer?”

“Pyromancers—in Shadowforge City. Bunch who won’t use flames for craftsmanship. But you’re no Dark Iron! Can’t just *be* one. Element-talking’s a gift! Got the talent?” Rueg retrieved his ruined rifle, muttering, “First, settle this mess.”

“Seso, Turalyon, whoever—you killed my summon! Compensation! That fire elemental servant cost runestones, energy… a fortune! Took ages teaching him Common phrases too—all wrecked! Pay up before doing squat with the Thorium Brotherhood!”

“My apologies,” Jesse said. “I’ll admit—walked in biased against Dark Iron clans. Saw flames and panicked. Your elemental *was* powerfully charged…”

“I’m a Dark Iron dwarf—not Tribe-bound. Watch your tongue, human.” Rueg jabbed a finger. “No excuses. Thirty gold. Done.”

“Thirty?!” Jesse nearly popped his eyes out. “I haven’t got that!”

“Too much?” The dwarf scoffed. “Stormwind court mages swim in gold! That black-dragonhide cloak alone’s worth hundreds! Who struts in such pricey gear?!”

“This cloak isn’t bought with coin,” Jesse countered. “I’m coinless. Another way? You said summoning drained your energy—I’ve energy to spare. Let me summon a fire elemental as compensation.”

Rueg snorted. “Spent too much time with Bronzebeards? Think all dwarves are stone-brained fools? ‘Teach me summoning as payment’—clever scheme, human.”

He sized up the young intruder. “But you sparked an idea. Feddel died to Shadow Magic, yes?”

“Yes.”

“So you *are* a warlock.” Rueg smirked. “Warlocks know rare tricks. Give me something… special I need, and we’ll call it even.”

*Dark spells?*

*Even Tribe-deserters aren’t saints. And Dark Irons tolerate shadowcraft. Wouldn’t shock me.*

*Teaching spells for ‘fire control’ lessons? Fair trade.*

“What do you want?” Jesse asked.

“Demons,” Rueg said, shouldering his bent rifle as he collected the lifeless bracers. “I’ve questions about demons. Follow me, human. Stop dawdling.”