Alex's cold voice emanated from within the black robe, and the flames on the dwarf's body were extinguished. He immediately fell to his knees, begging Alex for mercy.
The reputation of dwarves as honest and straightforward seemed unfounded now. These dwarf nobles had become corrupt, proving that any intelligent being could succumb to the lure of power.
"I'll talk, I'll talk! Please, honorable mage leader, spare my life," the dwarf pleaded, his face contorted with pain, sweat pouring down his face. The agony of having his soul burned had left him weak.
"The city is called Grimstone, ruled by the youngest son of the Silverbeard Clan's chieftain. There are twenty thousand dwarf soldiers stationed there."
That didn't make sense. Alex had seen the city from afar, and it was quite large. How could it only have twenty thousand soldiers?
