Chapter 778

Chapter 778: It’s All a Misunderstanding

“Perhaps we should collaborate with the Explorer Association,” Sarbaan suggested as he conferred with Hazzik. Jesse stuffed the gold coins into his bag and said, “That’s no longer my problem. You figure out how to proceed. I’ve shared everything I know with you. Good luck.”

“Of course,” Hazzik replied. “I really appreciate you, Mr. Seso, for providing such important information. Terramok… it’s almost been forgotten by the hunters of Ironforge. Hearing about that crocodile again excited us all. Is there anything else we can assist you with?”

Jesse was about to say no but suddenly remembered the main purpose of his trip to Ironforge. “I heard there are members of the Thorium Brotherhood in Ironforge. I want to meet them.”

“If you ask me, there’s no need to deal with those eccentric Dark Iron dwarves. The Great Anvil has plenty of skilled Bronzebeard blacksmiths, Mr. Seso,” Hazzik said with an awkward smile. “If you want to craft armor or weapons for yourself or a friend, you can easily do so at the Great Anvil, even magical items.”

“I’m here to investigate some matters,” Jesse responded.

“Related to Black Magic?” Sarbaan asked, putting down his scroll and raising his head. “I can’t disclose that,” Jesse replied.

“I see. Well, they live on the other side,” Hazzik glanced at Sarbaan. “I’m not mistaken, am I?”

“I remember that too,” Sarbaan said. “It’s not an easy walk over there, Mr. Seso.”

The two dwarves chatted in Language Dwarven for a bit, and Sarbaan said, “We have someone here who knows where the Thorium Brotherhood is. I’ll call him and let him take you there.”

Jesse stood up, grabbed his cloak, and said, “Thank you very much.”

“By the way,” Hazzik said, “is that cloak… really made of black dragon skin?”

“Of course,” Jesse confirmed.

Hazzik stared at Jesse’s hood, swallowing hard.

Previously, he’d heard from Greed that the Thorium Brotherhood was under surveillance in Ironforge. Jesse thought he would need to contact Ironforge’s officials to meet them and hadn’t expected it to be this convenient.

Jesse didn’t want to disturb the king here again. He didn’t want more ceremonies or standing before dwarven kings and nobles endlessly. Over the last six months—from Stormwind Keep, to Menethil’s palace, to the Farstriders’ abode—he’d endured repetitive awards, banquets, and hollow pleasantries until exhaustion set in.

Traveling to Grim Batol was meant to resolve problems, but troubles kept piling up.

Leaving the hunters’ guild and the cluster of inns behind, he followed the hunter across the circular area, gradually entering a zone thick with smoke and heat.

In Stormwind or Lordaeron’s royal city, such an environment would be labeled a slum. Yet calling this area a slum felt unfair since many homes appeared well-built, even finer than the walls near the inns. Jesse couldn’t decipher who lived here.

Residents looked older, sturdy, and stern—likely blacksmiths, laborers, or retired soldiers.

As an outsider, Jesse knew he wouldn’t grasp Ironforge’s residential layout in a day or two.

The hunter led him to a secluded corner and pointed to an iron door atop a staircase. “Here we are, Mr. Seso—the Thorium Brotherhood. Talk to them yourself!”

“Thank you, sir.”

Jesse nodded, bid farewell, and studied the ancient-looking door.

Dwarven runes carved into a nearby pillar seemed stern, but Jesse couldn’t read them. He wished he’d asked the hunter to translate, but the man had already left.

Would Dark Iron dwarves advertise their presence on the door?

The heat was unbearable. Waves of scorching air pulsed from stone walls, rumbling lowly as they washed over him.

Climbing the steps intensified the heat.

He knocked on the jail-like metal door, peered through a small hole, then knocked harder when it seemed empty. The door creaked open slightly.

Unlocked?

Jesse pushed it open. Inside felt like an oven—even his Red Dragon-blessed body struggled.

“Is anyone here?” he called in Common. No one answered.

He leaned in. A small fire pit hung from the ceiling for light, but it couldn’t possibly heat the stone room this much.

The space resembled an empty warehouse except for an open doorway. After hesitating, Jesse approached and peered down a corridor lit by fire pits. Flickering lights and muffled noises suggested activity below.

“Hello!” Jesse wiped his brow and shouted in Language Dwarven, but his voice drowned in the walls’ deep roar.

Perhaps the noise inside prevented anyone from hearing him. Logically, someone should’ve secured the door if the place were empty.

Jesse descended the stairs as the glowing bottom neared. The air grew hotter, the mood eerie. Just before he reached the bottom, the light wavered.

“Hello?” he paused and repeated in Language Dwarven.

Instantly, the fire flared brighter. Heat spiked. A mass of flames surged upward!

What the hell?!

He spun and fled. The inferno climbed the stairs, whispering indistinctly as it pursued him. Jesse glanced back: fiery arms swung toward him, adorned with gleaming elemental wristbands!

Those bands bound elementals to this plane. This was a summoned fire element!

As it closed in, Jesse felt his clothes smoldering. He whirled and chanted at the creature. Shadows gathered in his palm, swelling until they eclipsed the blinding fire.

He roared and hurled a Shadow Bolt. Dark energy speared the flames’ core, dimming them instantly. The fire element writhed and died. Shattered wristbands clattered to the floor as the corridor echoed the elemental’s hollow voice:

“Welcome to… the Thorium Brotherhood’s outpost… Human, here to craft… or learn… stranger… welcome… uh… I’m free…”

Jesse froze. It had spoken Common.

The air cooled. Sweat turned icy. Shadow’s metallic tang lingered—not from evil Dark Iron dwarves, but his own dark magic.

“Everything’s fucked up now!” a voice bellowed behind him.

Jesse turned. A Dark Iron dwarf glared down with crimson eyes, aiming a dark gun barrel.

“I stepped out for bread, and my Feddel got blasted back to his realm! I barely summoned him! What’s your game, warlock? I don’t know you—got a grudge?!”