Hyper-Dimensional Player-Chapter 451 - 67: Age of Strife, Slaughter, and Conquest (3)
When the group returned, they were warmly welcomed by the Hill Dwarves.
Hegel just used his brain for a bit and quickly put aside the fact that he almost wiped out the Hill Giants.
Barbarians are truly carefree.
He hoisted a barrel of wine and called Duncan over, eager to have another round with the dwarves, especially with Berserker Blu joining this time. He felt confident again.
In truth, he still wasn’t up to it.
Duncan sneaked away halfway through drinking, seeing that a bunch of barbarians were about to be taken down by the dwarves once more.
Before leaving, Duncan noticed the Love God Priest discreetly taking out a pink magic potion, eyes fixed on Hegel who was drinking heartily with the dwarves.
As for the rest, Crete was embracing a dwarf lady, dancing.
It was an unbearable sight!
These barbarians really aren’t picky; the dwarf lady had a waist as thick as a barrel, yet Crete was still enthusiastic.
"But with such a carefree attitude, even dying in battle someday would make this life worthwhile."
Duncan carried his grandfather on his shoulder, ready to return it to the dwarf craftsman.
He had only borrowed it.
A borrowed item must be returned.
The Oathkeeper couldn’t possibly covet someone’s family heirloom, although this axe was quite handy.
Quickly.
Duncan found the burly dwarf craftsman, a jeweler with a prosperous family. Seeing Duncan return his grandfather, he was instantly pleased, rising on his toes to pat Duncan’s shoulder, gesturing around him: "You are a true warrior and keep your promises."
"Look."
"I don’t go on adventures anymore."
Saying this, the dwarf lifted his thick finger, adorned with nine shining gem rings. He worshipped the Lady of Gems and was passionate about seeking treasures underground.
"Keeping this weapon here would just let it gather dust every day."
"It’s better for you to take it."
"Maybe one day, grandfather will become a legend in this world!"
"When the day comes that you no longer need it."
"If you are still alive."
"Return it back."
Most dwarves are quite straightforward; the City Lord Is an exception, being a politician and not a true dwarf.
The dwarf jeweler glanced at Duncan’s height and said in a deep voice, "It seems a bit short."
"Just right."
"My servant dug up some mithril; would you like to lengthen it? How about making it a long-handled battle axe?"
Long-handled battle axe?
It doesn’t have to be too long, but a little extension does make it more suitable.
Duncan looked at the dwarf in front of him, nodding, "Then I won’t be polite."
"If one day I no longer need it."
"I will return it."
"To you, or your descendants."
The dwarf laughed heartily at this message, pleased, "I trust your promise; this is a worthwhile investment."
"If I’m not around by then, hand it over to the Hammerstone Clan’s descendants."
"By that time, the Hammerstone Clan will have a legendary item."
This is merely a verbal agreement.
But if the dwarf will give, Duncan will take.
Under the dwarf jeweler’s instruction, the nearby dwarf blacksmiths got busy, creating a light golden extension grip for grandfather, about 1.3 meters in total length, then invited Duncan to drink. Though he’d escaped Hegel’s challenge, he couldn’t escape this one.
With the greatest enemy of the dwarves on this land now defeated, the entire mountain range would belong to them.
By the time Duncan extricated himself, he was already feeling a bit dizzy from drinking.
None of the barbarians were in sight.
Duncan didn’t want to seek them out, worried the scene would be too unsightly. No point going to the inn either; it wasn’t the right timing to return now.
So, he decided to find the witch.
Feeling excited, Duncan’s emblem trembled as only the witch had the antidote. Worth a try.
In front of the treehouse.
By the time Duncan reached the treehouse, though he had sobered up quite a bit in the breeze along the way.
After all, she was different.
The last time’s romantic fortune with the Oceanid of Dibite River was luck—a rare occurrence not to be expected often.
What was this business?
Showing up at the door and asking the witch Gleya if she wanted a showdown?
Telling her if not today, it would be too late by tomorrow?
Too crude.
But just as he considered backing out, a vine ladder dropped down from the treehouse, followed by Gleya’s eerie voice, "Come up."
Duncan grabbed the vine and lightly leapt up.
Inside the room.
The witch Gleya had already changed into a pale green long dress, her long hair falling to the floor. Before her was a bronze mirror where she was grooming herself. She glanced at the slightly nervous Duncan, her beautiful profile turned, assessing him with an amused, alluring smile: "I thought you were different from other barbarians."
"But it seems."
"You truly are a barbarian."
Drank too much, now seeking a woman.
And of all places, he came here!
He was simply brazen.
Seeing Gleya’s slightly charming smile, Duncan relaxed significantly, sitting down on his own, "I only came to thank you for your prior warning."
The alluring witch rose at this response, her enticing figure captivating the mind, her snowy peak gleaming like porcelain under the moonlight. Her expression playful as she said, "Oh?"
"Is that really all?"
"I live here alone, often bored. Since you’re daring enough to come, it’s not without opportunity."
"But now that you’re just here to thank me, you can leave now."
