"Your Excellency, is military force always within your considerations?" Viscount Helson asked with some sadness.
While in Fireforge, he spoke at length with Barash about how he had come for peace, but in the blink of an eye, his own lord was plotting to seize the dwarves' lands.
Helson did not believe that the dwarves would give up their ancestral homeland so easily.
"We should fully consider all possibilities!" Paul did not deny it.
Helson was silent for a moment, then finally sighed.
"If you really want to do this," he said slowly, with a hint of helplessness in his voice, "then I suggest starting with their mountain creations."
He paused, his gaze fixed on the flickering candlelight on the wall, as if recalling the underground world of Firefortress.
"The dwarves' greatest advantage in their own territory is not their weapons or combat skills, but their crisscrossing tunnels and fortresses hidden deep in the mountains."
He continued, his tone growing increasingly serious: "Their tunnels were not only transportation routes, but also the core of their defenses. Some stretched from the foot of the mountain all the way to the top, while others connected multiple halls and mines, forming a complex web. And the fortresses were built inside the mountain, easy to defend and difficult to attack, almost indestructible."
He paused, as if preparing to say what he was about to say: "But it is precisely these creations that have become their weakness."
Everyone listened intently.
"When I was in Furnace Fortress," Helson continued, "I heard the locals proudly recount more than once that these tunnels and fortresses were dug, expanded, and reinforced by generations of dwarves, starting with their ancestors. Some of the passages are even over three thousand years old."
He looked up at Paul: "If these creations could be destroyed... it would be a heavy blow to the dwarves, not only militarily, but also spiritually."
He said in a somber tone, "That would be the destruction of their entire ethnic history and culture."
"Moreover, once these creations are destroyed, they cannot be restored in a short period of time. This is because they were not built by one generation, but by the accumulation of countless generations of dwarves. No one can rebuild a thousand-year-old fortress in a few years."
Helson said in a low voice, "Lord Grylls, I'm making this suggestion not because I want to, but because… if peace does fail, we should at least be prepared for the worst." There was a hint of weariness in his eyes. "Of course, I hope that day never comes."
The candlelight flickered gently, illuminating Paul's pensive face.
He asked, "If we really have to consider this path... could gunpowder come in handy?"
All eyes turned to Helson.
Helson paused for a moment, shook his head, and slowly said, "I've seen workers using gunpowder to blast mountains and quarry stone, but the tunnels and fortresses built by the dwarves... are not ordinary rock formations."
He seemed to be recalling a gunpowder explosion: "Gunpowder can indeed blast through rock walls, but its power is limited, at most creating a crater a few meters deep. The dwarves' tunnels, however, were carved using a meticulously crafted process, some even reinforced with metal. Moreover, their underground structure is intricate and complex, like a net. If one section collapses, they can simply bypass it through another passage, and even repair it quickly."
The hall fell silent. Old Ford frowned and said, "So you mean the gunpowder didn't work?"
Helson shook his head: "I can only say that I can't guarantee it. Perhaps we can increase the power by piling up the amount, but how much is enough? Too much gunpowder will increase the burden of transportation."
He turned his gaze to the window, as if he could see the distant Rocky Mountains. "But if we're going to study this problem, I suggest we do some experiments outside the Rocky Mountains first. There are some abandoned caves and old mine tunnels there, with structures similar to the Dwarf tunnels. We can try different amounts of gunpowder and different detonation methods to see if we can find a truly effective means of destruction. At least we need to figure out exactly what we're dealing with."
After listening, Paul nodded slightly, "Then arrange an experiment, but it must be conducted discreetly so that the dwarves don't find out."
His gaze swept over everyone present, finally landing on the mage Desen. "Desen, you will be in charge of this gunpowder experiment."
Derson, who had been sitting calmly in the corner, suddenly jolted when he heard his name called.
He looked up, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes, which was quickly replaced by a burning excitement.
"Me?" he asked in a low voice, his voice still carrying a hint of disbelief.
He was present at the banquet today because Paul needed him to assess the veracity of the dwarf messenger's words—if the exchange touched on any sensitive topics.
But Denson didn't expect that Reservation would personally assign him the task.
"Yes," Paul nodded. "This must be done discreetly."
Desen took a deep breath, slowly stood up, straightened his back, clenched his hands, and showed an almost devout excitement on his face.
"Lord Gleman!" he said firmly, his voice trembling slightly with emotion, "It is my greatest honor to have you entrust me with such an important task!"
He raised his right hand and slammed it heavily against his chest, as if making a vow, "I promise you, I will definitely complete it! I will!"
His eyes shone with a light, a light that was long lost, a light mingled with a sense of mission and belonging. Since he joined Paul, he had been waiting for an opportunity to prove his worth.
Now he has finally gotten what he's been waiting for, but it doesn't seem to have much to do with his magical specialization.
"Very good," Paul said. "You will begin preparations tomorrow. The selection of personnel, the location, the supplies—everything must be arranged carefully. No one can be alerted, especially the dwarves in the mountains. I permit you to use certain special methods!"
So that's how it is! All those so-called special methods are just magic to him! Haha, no wonder he was singled out.
Derson nodded solemnly: "Understood. Tomorrow I will personally go to the outskirts of the Rocky Mountains to select a suitable old mine tunnel for the experiment."
Paul breathed a sigh of relief: "If we don't have enough gunpowder, we'll have to come up with something more powerful."
Everyone was taken aback by these words. Hansel asked in confusion, "More powerful? More powerful gunpowder?"
"It might not be gunpowder," Paul smiled mysteriously. "It could be something else."
Desen's gaze flickered slightly. He didn't speak, but a strange light shone in his eyes.
Of all those present, he was probably the only one who truly understood the meaning behind the Marquis's words. He lowered his head, concealing the barely perceptible smile on his lips.
During that failed memory-stealing magic, he glimpsed fragments deep within Paul's consciousness—knowledge that didn't belong to this world, fragments about chemistry, explosions, and energy release. Although he didn't fully understand them, he knew that there were things in the world far more terrifying than gunpowder.