Spirit Game

Chapter 185 The Emperor of the Wasteland

Golly smirked, satisfied with the answer. "Good. Don't worry about your territory anymore. With us there, we'll turn it into a high-tech fortress — defenses, machinery, whatever you need. Leave it to me."

Before Rain could respond, another voice interrupted, gruff and serious.

"Master Rain . . ."

Rain turned, and his eyes met a stern-looking dwarf who had the perpetual scowl of someone who had seen too much of the world.

For a moment, Rain thought he could have been Druger's long-lost brother.

"W-what is it?" Rain asked, unsure of what to expect.

"My name is Drake, of Scorched Peak — the northernmost region of the Barren Wasteland, where the world itself seems to end."

"Ah, so that's what's up there," Rain mused.

Drake nodded solemnly. "It's also where Balaur, the god of war, resided. For generations, we lived in constant fear and torment under his shadow. But now, thanks to you . . . we are free."

Rain's face flushed, a wave of humility washing over him. "I didn't really do anything . . ."

Helliana leaned over and whispered in his ear, "They saw you command the shadow that defeated Balaur. They believe it was your doing."

Rain swallowed hard. He didn't know how to explain that it wasn't him, not entirely. But before he could find the words, Drake continued.

"For freeing us, we wish to serve you, Master Rain."

Rain blinked in surprise. He looked at the weary faces of the dwarves who had once been slaves to a monstrous dragon. "But don't you want your freedom? After all these years of captivity, don't you want to live for yourselves?"

Drake nodded, his voice softening. "We do . . . but where would we go? Scorched Peak is a wasteland, a harsh and unforgiving place. It's not a home — it's a prison."

Rain chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Well, if it's a home you want, you're welcome in my territory. But you won't be servants — you'll be citizens. You'll help build the town, earn wages, and live freely like everyone else. You'll be part of something, and I promise you won't have to worry about survival anymore as long as you stay in my fief."

Drake's eyes shimmered, his stern façade cracking as tears welled up.

This was only the beginning.

=======

By morning, everyone was preparing to leave for the Silverstone Oasis.

Despite everything that had happened, a sense of hope lingered in the air. Rain had reignited that hope, sparking belief in a better future for all.

#4 shuffled over to Rain and tugged on his clothes, its small eyes gleaming with purpose.

Rain smiled down at the little creature. "Oh, #4, you did an incredible job opening the gates for us. We couldn't have done it without you."

The small figure nodded shyly before chirping up at Golly.

Golly let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his beard. "I'm afraid the Clockwork Dragon is beyond repair." Your next chapter awaits on empire

#4's face fell, its shoulders slumping in disappointment.

"You see," Golly continued, "the Clockwork Dragon was always meant to be a one-time use. Once its energy core was activated and depleted, it was bound to crack and break. It'd be easier to build a whole new one than to fix it."

For a moment, #4 looked heartbroken, its tiny wings twitching in dismay. But then, with a determined chirp, it shook its head, pushing aside the sadness. This was a time of celebration, not sorrow. The sacrifices they made were for this very moment, and he refused to dampen the spirit of the day.

Rain felt a pang of sympathy for #4 but knew better than to offer empty words of comfort. Instead, he decided to shift the mood. "By the way, #4 . . . where did you hide my statue?"

The little creature's eyes lit up with a mischievous glint, and without a word, it tugged at Rain's hand, leading him outside. They passed through the remnants of the city until #4 stopped in front of an unexpected mound — one made entirely of Rakling dung.

Rain raised an eyebrow, trying to piece together what was happening.

With a proud little strut, #4 inserted its tiny finger into the heap of filth and pulled out the statue, completely coated in the foul substance.

Rain stood there, utterly speechless, torn between laughter and despair. He looked down at the dung-covered statue in disbelief. No wonder no one could find it. #4 had hidden it in the last place anyone would ever think to look.

With a nervous chuckle, Rain scratched his head. "Well . . . I guess that's one way to keep it safe."