Chapter 22 - Expedition

Gromril withdrew directly. This matter concerned his next phase of tasks, and he needed to go back and think it over carefully. Under the pretext of praying to the Ancestor Goddess, Gromril sat alone in his room, slowly pondering.

Karak-Eight-Peaks is a crucial pivot connecting the northern and southern sections of the World's Edge Mountains, and it contains vast mineral deposits and wealth. Recovering it is vital for the revival of the Mountain Kingdom.

However, Gromril did not trust Belegar Ironhammer's ability. This lord of Eight Peaks Mountain had failed at least three times in the original history, and even when Thorgrim Grudgebearer once led an army of ten thousand to help him, he only managed to establish a small outpost on the outskirts of the fortress.

Gromril did not believe that adding himself to an army of ten thousand would bring about much change. Even if they did conquer it with the blessing of the Ancestor Gods or some other means, how would they defend it when it couldn't sustain itself and was surrounded by enemies on three sides, save for Iron Peak Fortress to the south?

In Gromril's view, recovering Eight Peaks Mountain must be done step by step. The countless failures of the Angrund Clan over thousands of years had proven that reckless, gambling-like advances would not work.

Having figured this out, Gromril determined his attitude towards Belegar: no support, at least not for now. He also needed manpower for recovering the Mountain Stronghold and reforging the artifact. There are only so many dwarves in the world; if all the free ones went to Belegar, what would he do?

Two days later, the oracle of the Ancestor Goddess came down. She supported the last bloodline of the Angrund Clan in recovering their homeland, but hoped that Belegar would learn from the experiences and lessons of his predecessors, first find a place to rest and recuperate, accumulate strength, and then make further plans.

The Ancestor Goddess's stance caused many clansmen who were observing to temporarily abandon the idea of joining Belegar. However, many clans that once belonged to Karak-Eight-Peaks still flocked to Belegar from all directions.

Belegar Ironhammer is the last direct bloodline of the Eight Peaks Mountain royal family. If he were to die in battle before leaving an heir, no one would have the corresponding rallying power. At the same time, lacking information about the secret passages and treasuries held by the Angrund Clan, recovering Eight Peaks Mountain would be almost impossible.

Those clans who had lost their homeland were unwilling to miss this last chance, and the lingering heroic spirits of King Ruen in the mortal world were an even stronger call. Their response gave Belegar more power and influence.

Seeing this situation, Lord Lagos of Copper Mountain Hold decided to increase his stake. He was the biggest sponsor of Prince Domga's expedition, and thus suffered the greatest losses.

Before their departure, the two had agreed that if Domga succeeded, he would marry Lord Lagos's second daughter as his queen. Now that Domga was dead, Lagos simply betrothed his daughter directly to Belegar, completely tying him to his war chariot.

Thus, after Belegar's death, his child with the Copper Mountain Hold princess would have a strong claim to Karak-Eight-Peaks. With Everpeak showing little interest in his plan to recover his homeland due to Gromril's influence, Belegar had no other choice.

He took his remaining forces and sailed from Sea Gate to Copper Mountain Hold. There, relying on the wealth extracted from his clan's treasury, he recruited soldiers and horses, preparing to launch a new round of war.

Gromril continued to bide his time in the following days, learning to engrave new runes. This year, Karaz-A-Karak's year-end sacrifice was naturally entrusted to him to preside. Gromril took the opportunity to announce that he would, by the command of the Ancestor Goddess, go to recover Karak-Zorn, which is Highland Fortress.

When the dwarves were first created by the Old Ones, they were placed in the Southlands. Karak-Zorn was the first fortress built by the Ancestor Gods, where they bore their first child.

As the dwarves, led by the Ancestor Gods, moved north along the World's Edge Mountains, the center of the Mountain Kingdom also shifted. After the great earthquake of the Dark Ages, there was no more news of Highland Fortress, but almost all clansmen believed there were countless, unimaginable treasures there.

Over the years, Karak-Zorn had always been of interest to dwarf explorers, but they either went and never returned, or came back empty-handed, recounting the horrors of the Savage Orcs in the rainforests or the might of the Tomb Kings in the desert.

However, Gromril was different from his predecessors; he claimed that the Ancestor Goddess had told him the exact location of Highland Fortress, so this journey was less an exploration and more a treasure hunt with a map.

Gromril calculated his rune mastery progress and set the departure time for three years later. He planned to depart from Sea Gate by sea, which would allow him to bypass the Badlands and avoid engaging with large groups of greenskins.

Gromril issued a proclamation in his personal name to all clansmen willing to believe and support him: gather at Everpeak in three years, or those closer could go directly to Sea Gate to wait. Together, they would explore the ancestral homeland. He would share all acquired wealth with every participant.

Gromril's proclamation spread throughout the entire Mountain Kingdom and even the Old World via the rune telegraph system. With the Ancestor Goddess's endorsement, all clansmen believed he could find Highland Fortress, and his title of "The Generous" along with his multiple identities as High Prince and Rune Master further assured the clansmen of the expected profits.

Gromril was willing to accept every qualified dwarf warrior into his ranks, just like the leaders of his previous exploration teams.

But Gromril also allowed trustworthy friends from other Order races to submit applications, and after his personal approval, they could also join the team, enjoying the same treatment and obligations as the dwarves.

Such actions caused some dissatisfaction among the Longbeard Elders. However, Gromril's prestige was high enough, and many stubborn clansmen somewhat realized that introducing foreign aid could compensate for a lack of strength and reduce casualties among the clansmen. Ultimately, that bit of opposition did not make much of a splash.

In the following year, with the strong support of his clan, Gromril participated in the by-election for the Vice President of the Rune Smith Guild. With the widespread use of the rune telegraph machine, and Master Krag not offering much obstruction, Gromril's election was a matter of course.

However, he did not have time to participate in the internal power struggles of the Guild; apart from adding a golden border to the emblem on his chest and gaining a new title, there were no additional benefits.

As winter passed and spring arrived, Gromril suddenly realized a problem: he knew the exact location of Highland Fortress through the system's strategic map, but how to get there, and what else was along the path besides a few famous large strongholds, he did not know.

The real world is not like drawing a line between two points on a map with charcoal and going straight there. Gromril issued another proclamation for this, widely seeking information related to Highland Fortress.

While Gromril was busy mastering runic knowledge and improving his strength, his followers were not idle. Balin and Tomi each took responsibility for one side, promoting and seeking sponsorship for Gromril's expeditionary force.

Most dwarf Lords were willing to offer some support to the warriors searching for the lost Mountain Stronghold, which, of course, also meant sharing in the potential profits. The specific level of support naturally depended on the probability of success and the potential returns, and in their eyes, Gromril's probability of success was undoubtedly the highest.

A year before departure, they presented various agreements to Gromril. At Gromril's instruction, the official support from various Karaks mainly consisted of Ironbreakers.

Gromril considered that the Southlands held too many unknown threats and required more elite troops. Even clansmen who volunteered, despite having meteorite iron armor, lacked the discipline for group combat.

The various dwarf Lords assembled a force of one hundred and twenty Ironbreakers for Gromril. The standing army of the dwarves was not large, and it was even harder to spare such specialized soldiers.

Beyond practical assistance, this demonstrated a supportive attitude, ensuring that clansmen under these Lords could serve in reclaiming their homeland without worries.

Brockson was sent to Zhufbar to track the progress of Gromril's orders. To solve the problem of aerial reconnaissance and deal with large units, Gromril ordered two dwarf Gyrocopters, a batch of Trollhammer Torpedo launchers, and several ballistas engraved with Burning Runes.

Currently, Gromril's military funds came from his own savings, official support from the High King's Court, support from his own Drazklad Clan, routine support from various Karaks and guilds, and donations from individual clansmen who were enthusiastic about reclaiming ancestral lands but could not participate for various reasons.

Gromril was quite well-off now, but he also knew that this money had to show results. If this expedition failed, his reputation would utterly collapse. For this, he spent every gold coin wisely.

Besides orders for weapons of war, Gromril also sent orders for cement to Zhufbar. This was his professional field in his previous life; inorganic materials primarily included cement, glass, and ceramics.

The technological development in this world was a bit skewed, but glass and ceramics no longer needed Gromril to develop. Gromril also had no intention of doing anything fancy like coating armor with ceramic. If he had the energy to hand-craft those, why not do something else?

In human society, concrete made from a mixture of lime and volcanic ash to bind crushed stone had already appeared. After hardening, it not only had high strength but also resisted erosion from rain or saltwater.

Of course, humans had not yet developed suitable ratios and production methods, and were in a state of utilizing natural cement. Gromril directly brought out a set of common ratios and a "two-grind, one-burn" production process, handing it over to President Brokk to implement.

In fact, if he wanted to, Gromril could also develop fiber reinforcement, high-performance water reducers, and ultrafine powders to enhance cement performance. But first, there wasn't enough time, and second, Gromril felt that the current state was already sufficient, as the Southlands were relatively more backward.

Johnson Strongshield and Henrid-Dragonslayer organized necessary cooperative combat training for the early-arriving volunteers at Everpeak and Sea Gate, respectively. They also periodically went out to clear scattered enemies or undertake missions to earn some additional funds.

Six months before departure, Gromril completed the engraving of most common runes. He had drastically shortened the time normally required for decades, thanks to the effect of the Ritual of Toolni.

Now, in addition to his original Rune of Speed, Rune of Hearth and Home, and Rune of Fury and Destruction, the runes he had mastered were as follows:

Rune of Oath and Steel - can be used to increase the armor strength of clansmen.

Rune of Slowness - can reduce enemy movement speed and related charge bonuses.

Rune of Destruction - increases the weapon damage and armor-piercing capability of friendly units.

Rune of Negation - directly increases the damage resistance of friendly units.

The mastery of these new runes greatly increased Gromril's combat flexibility. He finally left the forge, preparing to take a break, but after two or three days, he suddenly realized that he still lacked manpower around him.

Currently, Gromril only had Rogov, who served as a guard. He was a true warrior, but had no outstanding abilities in other areas. Long-term solo activity in the wilderness also left him with little social ability or desire.

As Gromril pondered, an Iron Hammer Guard came in to report that someone claimed to have a map concerning Karak-Zorn. Gromril decisively invited the person in.

It had been quite some time since he issued the announcement, but no applicants had come forward. It was rare for someone to arrive, and the authenticity of the information in his hands was probably not bad.

dwarves are a race with a strong sense of honor. Half-truths and stories might be acceptable at a tavern, but leading the Ancestor Goddess's chosen and the expeditionary force assembled by divine oracle astray would mean becoming a butcher at Karak Kadrin.

A few minutes later, a young dwarf appeared in Gromril's room. His equipment was clearly in the adventurer style: heavy armor, but with a cloak over it.

"My name is Andumgar! Andumgar-Kazadson, I heard you are looking for information about Highland Fortress, and I happen to have an ancestral map here!"

The young dwarf stated his purpose directly. Hearing the name, Gromril suddenly recalled his experience at Helmgart Karak years ago while escorting a caravan.

"You, were you at Helmgart before?" Gromril did not directly ask about the map.

"Yes, I suffered misfortune in my youth, and the clansmen there took me in." The young man nodded.

"My condolences! Speaking of which, how is your mutual aid society doing now?" Gromril continued to ask. He had greatly admired this ambitious young man at the time.

"It's the Mutual Protection Society. Thanks to your runic telegraph, our work is now much easier to carry out." Although he found it strange that Gromril didn't ask about the map first, Andumgar was very enthusiastic when his work was mentioned.

"Recently, that pig Dieter IV has been looking for new ways to make money. I heard he even wants to grant Marienburg autonomy! Grungni above! You don't know what that means!"

"You know about this?" Gromril was surprised! In his three years at Everpeak, he had truly felt the dwarves' limited access to information. Almost all information was spread by word of mouth in taverns.

The dwarves of the World's Edge Mountains only cared about matters on their own doorstep; everything happening outside the Mountains was, one could say, unknown to anyone.

"Do you know?" Andumgar was surprised by Gromril's reaction; this news was extremely secret, and he couldn't even be sure of its authenticity.

"Hahaha, I have my sources!" Gromril covered it up with an awkward yet mysterious laugh. To the adventurous young dwarf, Gromril seemed even more unfathomable.

Counting it, the matters concerning Dieter IV and Marienburg should still be in the brewing stage. The fact that Andumgar was able to gather related information indicated that his intelligence network already possessed considerable strength.

"Let's talk about Highland Fortress!" Gromril changed the subject.

"I have a map here that I wish to present to you! My ancestor once collected information about that old place, and he himself explored along the Southern World's Edge Mountains. According to his diary, he reached a fertile valley in the Mountains, and was then driven out by something beyond his comprehension." Andumgar handed over a map and a diary.

"Something beyond his comprehension?" Gromril mumbled, taking and unfolding the map. It looked very old, a thing of considerable age.

"Whoosh! Whoosh!" Gromril quickly flipped through it, matching its contents with the strategic map in his mind's system. When he found that the prominent landmarks were largely consistent, Gromril could almost confirm its authenticity.

"This is very good!" Gromril directly affirmed the young man's contribution. "Tell me, what do you want?"

"I wish to join your expedition. Finding Highland Fortress is also my ancestor's long-cherished wish!"

"Ancestor Goddess above! My army welcomes every qualified warrior. If providing such high-value intelligence were the condition for joining, I'm afraid I wouldn't even be able to gather enough artillerymen." Gromril joked with a smile.

"Then, perhaps you could give me some opportunities to demonstrate my abilities? Our influence is still relatively weaker outside the Mountains." Andumgar conceded a step before stating his true request.

"Naturally! What should I appoint you as? A troop leader, or my staff adjutant?" Gromril had high expectations for Andumgar's abilities, but the young dwarf's reply surprised him.

"Uh, what I mean is, I hope you can recommend me to your father, His Majesty Thorgrim, after the matter is accomplished."

Gromril was momentarily stunned upon hearing this. Since his transmigration, it was the first time he had been rebuffed. Before this, he had always been comparable to the 'Timely Rain Song Jiang' of his previous life, with others bowing to him and calling him 'Chosen of the Goddess'.

Gromril couldn't argue about his small temple being despised, as it was indeed true. How could his makeshift team compare to the High King's Court?

"Ah, haha! Alright, alright, work hard, and I will recommend you to my father then!" Gromril had already laughed awkwardly for the second time in a short period. He secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

It was fortunate that Andumgar wished to be recommended after exploring Highland Fortress. If he demanded Gromril fulfill the reward now, it would be truly difficult. The dwarf population was limited, and the so-called High King's Court positions were also quite restricted.

With someone bringing a very valuable map to join, if Gromril only offered a low-level civil servant position, it would be impossible to explain. And there weren't many middle-level positions to begin with; under dwarf nepotism, most were already filled. Forcibly creating one would be troublesome, but more importantly, it would cause clansmen to gossip.

Gromril's growing prestige had already made his relationship with his elder brother somewhat delicate. His reclusive life in the forge for the past few years, avoiding the clansmen's rumors, was partly for this reason. In such a situation, directly interfering with his father's personnel appointments would be seen as overstepping.

In the time that followed, Gromril dispatched Tomi and Balin to purchase grain in the Imperium of Man during the autumn harvest. Considering that the conquered territories might need to be managed before they could be cultivated, and the first batch of troops were all combat units with no clansmen engaged in production, Gromril felt that being self-sufficient after two years would be good enough. Stockpiling more grain had no downside.

He himself, under the protection of the Anvil Guard, left the World's Edge Mountains, traveling by boat down the Skull River to Barak-Var, also known as Sea Gate.

Sea Gate is the only port city for the dwarves of the Old World. Goods from the World's Edge Mountains have always been transported from here to outside the dwarf world. She has thus become an extremely important trade center.

Many merchants from the Southlands, Ind, and even Cathay also choose to unload their goods at this dwarf fortress at the end of the Black Gulf.

Although this still required layers of exploitation and loss through land transport before goods could enter the Imperium of Man or Bretonnia, for sea merchants, it was undoubtedly much safer than braving the Vampire Pirates' ghost ships, Dark Elves' Black Arks, Norsca's longships, and other threats across the Great Ocean to Marienburg.

The route from Everpeak to Sea Gate is currently very safe. Sea Gate's ships clear enemies from the waterways, while Everpeak's land forces deal with small-time criminals on both banks.

Gromril traveled quickly downstream, but he did not take the boat all the way. Instead, he disembarked near the estuary. Sea Gate, as a fortress completed in the Golden Age, is very distinctive. Although it is also a port, she is very different from the city of Bordeleaux he had seen before.

Her main body was carved out of the cliffs on the northern coast of the Black Gulf. Below the cliff was a huge deep-water port and the dwarf navy's anchorage, and the Skull River was also channeled into a canal leading here.

In this situation, water transport and other regular operations were separated, with large elevators and tunnels connecting the lower port to the upper structures. This design was originally intended to cope with potential threats from the sea.

Gromril's visit this time was a formal one. He disembarked early and took the mountain path to visit Sea Gate through the main gate. Lord Panos also personally welcomed his arrival at the city gate.

This white-bearded dwarf Lord had previously supported the Angrund Clan's expedition, but he was not as deeply tied to this clan as the one from Copper Mountain Hold. After suffering losses, he did not continue to invest, instead switching to another project.

Gromril had previously negotiated the ship rental issue with him through rune telegraph and messengers, but before his departure, Gromril still decided to confirm it in person.

The group headed straight for the Lord's Hall at the highest point of the fortress. Gromril found this to be a sufficiently open dwarf fortress, similar to Breezehold and Hornburg. Humans from all over the world could be seen here, and the clansmen's attire was also relatively less traditional.

"Your plan is to take the waterway, go upstream from the Great River Mortis, then turn into the Ashen River, and finally reach the vicinity of Red Cloud Mountain directly, from there passing through Casket Canyon to enter the Southern World's Edge Mountains, right?" Lord Panos sketched Gromril's planned route on the map with charcoal.

"Precisely!"

There are generally three options to go to Karak-Zorn. Besides the route Gromril chose, one can also start from Karak-Azul, which is Iron Peak Fortress, the southernmost stronghold of the Mountain Kingdom, and proceed directly along the Mountains.

In the game, Thorek Ironbrow should have gone this way. But he himself is the Rune Master of Iron Peak Fortress, and for Gromril to do this, he would first have to cross the Badlands to Iron Peak Fortress.

Another option is to sail around the Southlands for most of a circle, disembarking at the location closest to Highland Fortress in legend. This would minimize ground combat, but the long voyage would require a large amount of food, making it only suitable for small expedition teams.

The path Gromril chose is relatively the safest. Many dwarf explorers had taken it before him, but none of them managed to reach Highland Fortress in the end. The Admiral of Sea Gate's fleet is also relatively familiar with this operation.

"Alright, but I must tell you, our ships cannot directly deliver your expeditionary force to the end of the Ashen River, at the foot of Red Cloud Mountain." Lord Panos tugged his long beard.

"Why? I read the notes of previous explorers, weren't they all able to be delivered to that location? Is it that the Land of the Dead is not peaceful again?" Gromril was a little puzzled.

"The closer to the upstream, the greater the drop in the river, the smaller the water volume, and the more turbulent the current. Your expeditionary force is much larger than those exploration teams. I have to dispatch the largest warships, but those ships can hardly go upstream!" Lord Panos explained.

"Then I'll have to walk a section in the Land of the Dead!" Gromril leaned over the map, scrutinizing it. What the dwarf Lord said was true, but it also meant he had a little more trouble.

"You might even have to establish a stronghold!" A young dwarf walked in. "Build a port at a suitable location, so that unloading and loading goods will be more convenient in the future."

"This is my son, Panosen. He is an excellent captain now, and he will command the fleet on this trip. I plan to deploy the Grimnir's Thunder Dreadnought, plus several armored ships." Lord Panos looked up and introduced him to Gromril.

"Pleased to meet you! Everything at sea will be in your hands!" Gromril shook hands with the young man who had entered.

"It is my honor to contribute to the recovery of our ancestors' homeland!" Panosen thumped his chest. He was wearing silk clothes, perhaps because Sea Gate is close to the ocean and the climate is relatively warm.

"Your ally, Duke Constantine of Bordeleaux, has delivered some of the promised sailing ships. He also provided a navigator, who is quite skilled." Lord Panos finished talking about warships and then moved on to transport ships.

The dwarf fleet of Barak-Var only has warships, no civilian ships. This is because the Sons of the Mountains initially built ships during the War of the Beard to attack the bases established by the High Elves at sea, and to deal with the High Elves' harassment.

The High Elves' Dragon Ships, carrying harassing troops, could easily land in most parts of the Old World, then directly seek out and attack the weak points between the various dwarf fortresses.

When facing the High Elves' giant dragons and flaming phoenixes, which could both fly and breathe fire, choosing to build ships out of wood was undoubtedly asking for trouble. Therefore, all dwarf warships were made of steel and driven by huge steam engines.

These warships could be described as steel fortresses at sea, equipped with rotating turrets, providing powerful firepower, and powered by steam engines and paddle wheels, without relying on unstable sea winds.

During the War of the Beard, the dwarf navy was sufficient to contend with the High Elves at sea, and in fact, suppressed the High Elf navy's fleet.

But after the War of the Beard, with no enemies, most dwarves also disliked drifting at sea, so the fleet's military strength rapidly contracted, and now they can only be seen at Sea Gate, the most important port for the dwarves.

If such ironclads were used for transport, not to mention there wouldn't be much space for goods, the cost of fuel alone would make the ship owner run at a loss.

Therefore, they were mainly used to maintain Sea Gate's status as a "safe harbor," to clear out any pirates daring to enter Black Gulf, and to provide artillery support to the Border Princes when necessary—billed by the number of shells.

Gromril gladly accepted the suggestion to visit the port. He and the Lord and his son quickly descended to the port below the cliff via the royal private elevator.

Here, Gromril saw a large number of human laborers unloading goods, and he also saw Ogres. These big guys could fill their equally large appetites with their immense strength.

Under the maintenance of successive Lords of Sea Gate, there were only two buildings in the port area—the Marine Engineers Guild and the customs office for collecting taxes.

Gromril saw a familiar figure next to the customs office—Ms. Schumann, the high-ranking manann priest who had fought alongside him in Bordeleaux. She was loudly proclaiming the doctrines of the Sea God.

Ms. Schumann's preaching received a good response. Many sailors gathered around her to pray, and there were also many dwarves among them. However, when they were reminded of Gromril's arrival, these clansmen found the nearest thing at hand as quickly as possible, covered their heads and faces, and ran away frantically.

"This, this is truly shameful! The ancestors of Barak-Var will not forgive this!" Lord Panos was very angry at the actions of his clansmen, but Gromril appeased him, saying that as long as they didn't believe in Chaos Evil Gods, believing in something else wouldn't have a big impact.

"What brings you here!" Gromril stepped forward and greeted her. This lady was an above-average spellcaster, far less unaggressive than she appeared.

"Respected dwarf Prince, my Duke said that there is a group of intelligent races living by the sea here who lack guidance, and sent me here to spread the faith of my God!" Ms. Schumann recognized Gromril. This dwarf noble could be said to be in the ascendant throughout the Old World.

"As far as I know, your noble house does not have any divine authority related to the ocean. I presume you wouldn't mind a small shrine here, protecting your clansmen who sail the seas, would you?" This priest had done some homework, which was also why her preaching was not directly suppressed by the Lord of Sea Gate.

"Of course, may manann protect all sailors! I will trouble you with my long voyage later!" Gromril smiled and granted her convenience.

After staying a few more days at Sea Gate and visiting the volunteer soldiers who had arrived early, Gromril returned to Everpeak to make his final preparations for the expedition.

Soon, he received a summons from Thorgrim Grudgebearer. The High King wanted to give his son a few words of advice before his departure.

It was still the same office as before, but Gromril was no longer just an ordinary dwarf Prince and Rune Smith. He was now an Avatar of the Gods of the Ancestor Goddess, the messenger of the God of War, the one acknowledged by Grimbrindal, and the Vice President of the Rune Smith Guild.

"How confident are you?!" After the father-son exchange of pleasantries, Thorgrim finally got to the point. He was Gromril's number one supporter and sponsor for this expedition, and the two could be said to share both glory and disgrace.

At present, Thorgrim did not yet have the strong prestige he would possess in the Mountain Kingdom a hundred years later. If Gromril failed this time, his entire faction's influence in the Dwarf Holds would diminish for several years to come.

"More than seventy percent!" Gromril had considered this issue. In a private conversation with his father, there was no need to speak with absolute certainty. News from the Southlands was severely outdated and distorted, and while he was confident in the forces he had assembled, the unknown always caused concern.

After repeated deductions, Gromril set his target on Highland Fortress. The Southlands were relatively undeveloped, with abundant resources that had not been extensively exploited. Furthermore, being far from the Dwarves' center of power, he would have greater freedom.

He had once considered perhaps reclaiming Gunbad Peak or Karak Ungor. These two fortresses were not far from the dwarf core territories, and the relative difficulty would be lower. But that way, he would not be able to take the next step unless he expanded into the Chaos Wastes or the Chaos Dwarf's Dark Lands.

Thorgrim nodded. He trusted his younger son's judgment and had given him his utmost support. Finally, he took a glove from his safe and handed it to Gromril.

This was a treasure of exquisite quality, engraved with a master-level power rune, literally increasing the wearer's strength. Thorgrim had specially prepared it for Gromril, considering his Flying Hammer technique.

With Uncle Iron Chisel delivering a breastplate and Stanley's Boots to Gromril's courtyard, his own preparations for the expedition were complete. The breastplate was engraved with a retractable rune and a rune of fortitude, commonly used on armor, both replicated by Uncle Iron Chisel.

The retractable rune had long been lost, and even in the Golden Age, it was very unpopular. All dwarf-ordered equipment was custom-made, and even if there were slight differences in the physique of descendants, adjustments could be made through weight loss, squeezing in, or adding inner linings, making it unnecessary to waste a precious rune slot.

Therefore, no information on how to harmonize this rune with other runes had been passed down. Even though Uncle Iron Chisel was an experienced Rune Master, he could only engrave the most conventional common runes alongside it.

Gromril's special need for this was in preparation for the Avatar of the Gods skill. He was now just a little short of reaching level five, and although the experience needed for each subsequent level increased, he felt that reaching level six after this trip seemed not to be a dream.

Ten days before the departure date, Gromril held a mobilization rally at Everpeak. Both the God of War and the Ancestor Goddess expressed their support for his expedition. Afterward, Gromril led his supporters and supplies gathered at Everpeak to Sea Gate.

The entire Barak-Var had long been ready to welcome Gromril's expeditionary force. This port city had been fully mobilized for Gromril's expedition. clansmen and foreign laborers were bustling everywhere, busily loading supplies into the holds.

Gromril sat in his temporary office on the upper level of the fortress, reading the newly compiled roster and rune telegrams with messages of blessing from all directions.

Gromril-az Thorson, Rune Master (anvil of doom)

Eighty Anvil Guard

Eighty Hammerer

Two hundred Ironbreaker

One hundred Longbeard Warriors

One hundred Longbeard Warriors (heavy weapons)

Two hundred dwarf warriors

One hundred dwarf warriors (heavy weapons)

One hundred Thunderer

One hundred Quarreler

Fifty dwarf Rangers

Twenty Iron Drake

Twenty Iron Drake (Trollhammer Torpedoes)

Three ballista (Burning Runes)

Three Cannons

Two Organ Gun

Two dwarf Gyrocopters (Brimstone Guns)

Thirty Monster Slayers

Fifty Common Slayers

Seven hundred dwarf Adventurers

Plus the official engineer Brockson, dwarf General Henrid-Dragonslayer, and Leviathan Slayer Rogov.

Gromril's dwarf forces had reached a scale of two thousand, which was definitely a large army for the Mountain Kingdom. Gromril was confident in eliminating any enemy daring to block his path in the early stages of the expedition.

However, he also knew that his front line would be very long, and it would be even more crucial whether he could achieve victory after victory while protecting previous gains as his forces were gradually diluted.

Many Slayers from Karak Kadrin joined Gromril's army. With Rogov's example, they also hoped for a chance to receive the forgiveness of the White Dwarf or even the Ancestor Gods.

Gromril simply divided them into two categories: those who had killed monsters of significant size like Trolls, Ogres, or Minotaurs were collectively called Monster Slayers; those who had only fought Greenskins, rats, or Chaos cultists were collectively called Common Slayers.

This effectively avoided "Stormvermin Slayers," "ork Big Boss Slayers," "Great Horned Beast Slayers," and so on, who would sit together all day arguing to prove who was superior, as boasting about past achievements was perfectly normal for Dwarves.

For the volunteers who came from various Mountain Strongholds, Gromril disbanded and reorganized those with formal military experience according to their unit types. However, there were still many clansmen from settlements outside the Mountains or young'un who had not yet served in the military.

These clansmen might not be poor in individual combat ability, but they lacked discipline and cooperation, and their equipment was mostly odd. A common setup included a one-handed weapon with a shield, a two-handed weapon on their back, and an extra short spear or crossbow bolts at their waist.

In essence, they were similar to Rangers, but without specialized training in scouting or stealth. In combat, they would first unleash a volley of chaotic shots from a distance, then charge forward in a swarm, brandishing their weapons.

Outside of the Dwarves, Gromril recruited two units from other factions. First were the renowned mercenaries from the mercenary kingdom of Tilea—Anagonda's Amazonians.

The Amazonians are a human variant created by the Old Ones. They are all female and reproduce using secret techniques passed down by the Old Ones.

There were five hundred of these Amazonians female warriors in total, from the leading priestess to various specialized troop types that outsiders found difficult to distinguish. The wealthy Gromril simply hired their entire mercenary group.

Among all the mercenary groups in Tilea, Anagonda's Amazonians were neither the strongest nor the most reputable. Gromril's representative had heard negative reviews about their professionalism during the observation period.

Gromril chose them mainly for two reasons: first, they originated from the deep rainforests of Lustria, making them skilled in jungle warfare, and the Southlands had plenty of such terrain.

Secondly, they had contact with the Lizardmen in Lustria, reportedly engaging in both war and alliances. What was certain was that they understood the Lizardmen language, and according to Gromril's past life experience and the notes of previous adventurers, Lizardmen were present in the Southlands.

Gromril certainly didn't want to oppose the Firstborn of the Old Ones; these warriors, even if they were more decadent than the Dwarf race, could not be easily insulted. More importantly, Gromril believed the Dwarf race were also creations of the Old Ones.

Although even the Second Generation Slann Mage-Priests found it difficult to comprehend what the Great Plan truly was, there was a significant possibility that the Dwarf race had a place in it, at least more so than most other races. Perhaps Gromril could reach some agreements with them, contributing to the clarification of the Great Plan.

Another contingent consisted of Knights and other troops from Bretonnia. In the previous two millennia, these positions would have been reserved for the Imperium of Man, but since Dieter IV's name was still inscribed in the great book of grudges, Gromril simply did not accept applications from the Imperium of Man.

The Knights came from various Duchies of Bretonnia, primarily those Gromril had visited. This included twenty Questing Knights and eighty Errant Knights. The Southlands, to these individuals seeking adventure to prove themselves, were undoubtedly a blue ocean.

Unlike the solitary Questing Knights, most Errant Knights brought more than one squire. The Dwarf race were not adept at, nor could they, attend to their purebred or half-elf warhorses. These two hundred squires, in addition to participating in battle themselves, also needed to care for the horses.

Besides assisting in coordinating the Knights and transporting them collectively by ship to Sea Gate, his old friend Constantine also personally prepared some forces for Gromril. He not only dispatched twenty Sea God Knights and Ms. Schumann but also sent three newly formed elite infantry squads under Gromril's command.

These men were called the Sons of the Ocean Legion by Constantine; they were a new elite infantry regiment he had selected and recruited from the original coastal guard, sailors, and Knight squires, and formed with good treatment.

Constantine hoped to use this to compensate for the deficiencies in the combat power of the original infantry regiments. After completing their training, he now wanted these men to undergo a test of actual combat.

Gromril also read another implication from the telegram - he had solidified his position in the transfer of power, and it was time to weaken the influence of some coastal nobles and the Sea Church who had originally strongly supported him.

The Sons of the Ocean Legion sent by Constantine consisted of two halberdier squads and one crossbowman squad, totaling one hundred and eighty men. In the end, Gromril's combat forces already numbered a full three thousand.

After reviewing the roster, Gromril let out a long breath. This was the largest force he commanded, and after their departure, the fate of these three thousand men could be said to be in his hands.

Suddenly, Gromril had a whim and gazed eastward from a window at Sea Gate. He knew that the Vaults Mountains were there, and Karak Izor stood at the edge of the glacier, where Belegar Ironhammer was recruiting troops.

Ever since Gromril declared his intention to campaign for Highland Fortress, these two Dwarf Kings seemed to be playing a counter-tune. Well, Belegar claimed to be the King of Karak-Eight-Peaks, but most of the Dwarf race still did not recognize him.

From the current results, the two were evenly matched this time. However, Gromril knew that his clansmen helped him because they believed he could succeed; while helping Belegar was because they believed that if they didn't help, there would be no more opportunities to do so in the future, as he was the last bloodline of the Angrund Clan.

On the day of the expedition, Gromril boarded the Dreadnought Grimnir's Hammer amidst the cheers of his clansmen at Sea Gate. Lord Panos personally came to see him off, having already opened a bottle of sparkling wine, usually reserved for triumphant returns, to show his support for Gromril's expedition.

Gromril felt secure standing on the bridge. This colossal ship was like a castle on the sea, fitted with numerous cannon turrets, using artillery of even larger caliber than those used by the army. In addition to the turrets and broadside batteries, this Dreadnought also had an aircraft deck for the take-off and landing of gyrocopters and airships.

Most people in the Old World believed that Dreadnoughts were the strongest ships at sea, but their enormous cost also meant that even the wealthy Dwarf race could not possess many.

The greatest Kings in Barak-Var's history all symbolized their achievements by building a Dreadnought, but currently, Sea Gate only had three still in operation.

"You needn't worry at all, no ship in the entire Black Gulf dares not make way when it sees us!" Panosen stood beside Gromril, looking at the sea in front of the ship with great pride.

What he said was true; with the Dwarf race navy's contraction, the Black Gulf was managed like an iron barrel. The entire Border Princes was influenced by Copper Mountain Hold on land and Sea Gate at sea. As long as the Dwarf race wished, they could easily prop up a Border Prince.

"That Leiren, he is your friend. When the Knights first entered the Border Princes, he was very influential due to his identity as a Sun Knight, and with the resources you supplied, he is now one of the most prominent figures in that chaotic land."

The Dwarf race of these two fortresses were both monitoring the situation in the Border Princes. They did not want it to be too chaotic, as that would affect their trade.

However, they also did not want the Knights to completely take over this area. If peace reigned, who would buy the Dwarf race's flagship products—weapons and armor? And who would need the Dwarf race to repair walls damaged in war?

After Knight King Charlemagne's chivalrous army slaughtered the greenskins, they did not continue their advance into the Badlands but instead settled there. When the Border Princes realized the Bretonnians' true intention—to occupy their land—these desperate men united.

Leiren, who had grown powerful by working for the Knights, now sided with his fellow Border Princes. With the Dwarf race's covert support, he fought against the remaining Bretonnian forces.

"He is also favored by a deity, perhaps this struggle is no longer merely mortal." Gromril connected the struggle between manann and the Lady of the Lake, which he had heard the Scholar speak of in Bordeleaux, with the current situation.

Seeing that there was nothing to worry about in the Black Gulf, Gromril simply returned to his room. He heard some of his clansmen, who were on a ship for the first time, grumbling, while others cheered.

This dreadnought, by his previous life's standards, was large enough. Sailing in the inner sea, he could barely feel the waves, but it didn't look as elegant as a human ship; instead, it resembled an iron turtle.

To counter the aerial power of the High Elves, the designers strengthened, or one could even say mutated, its defensive capabilities. This led to a series of side effects, including but not limited to high fuel consumption and cramped internal space.

After a few days of sailing out of the Black Gulf, the dwarf fleet entered the Brigand's Strait. This area, as its name suggests, was a very turbulent place. The sea routes of Tilea, the Border Princes, and Araby converged here, and many pirates also sought business in this area.

More importantly, this sea area was a buffer zone between the dwarf navy and the High Elves navy, without strong naval control. The High Elves' Dragon Ships and Eagle Ships patrolled various corners of the Great Ocean, but generally did not enter this sea area.

In contrast, the dwarf navy rarely came here either, so Admiral Panosen raised his guard. He changed the original single-file formation, led by Grimnir's Thunder, which they used in the Black Gulf, and instead switched to a diamond formation.

The most powerful dreadnought still led the way, but three armored ships were positioned at the three corners of the diamond, with these four warships protecting the transport sailboats in the middle. Panosen also dispatched the ship-borne airships, which were almost exclusive to the Sea Gate.

In this busy sea area, both merchant ships and pirates actively avoided the dwarf warships. However, the good times didn't last long, and a message came back from an airship at night.

"Altman says they've spotted a Black Ark and are now returning quickly!" Panosen said, relaying the latest situation in the command room. Rune telegraphs were also being used in the fleet.

"A Black Ark?" Gromril frowned. In the games of his previous life, these things were only considered troop transports to move Dark Elves' forces around the world, but in fact, their power was far more than that.

"You know, the Dark Elves, who call themselves Druchii, are the most bloodthirsty of the three types of Pointy-ears. Many of them directly worship the Chaos Gods, and the rest believe in their War God—Khaine the Bloody-Handed—but he's not much different from a Chaos God."

Panosen introduced the guys they were about to encounter to Gromril. The Dark Elves were Malekith's supporters during the High Elves' split. They believed that Elves must become a more martial race, not a bunch of pleasure-seeking cowards.

These guys were defeated in the final battle. The Witch King, with a 'rather both sides suffer' mentality, took a desperate gamble. He risked trying to destroy the Great Vortex, which Caledor the Dragon Tamer had built years ago to drain the Winds of Magic.

However, with the obstruction of the High Elves' Archmages at the time, Malekith did not succeed. The energy released by the Great Vortex after being attacked far exceeded anyone's imagination. Nearly half of the land of Ulthuan sank permanently into the sea, and Malekith's Kingdom of Naggaroth bore the brunt.

He and his mother, The Witch Queen Morathi, along with his other followers, used powerful dark magic to raise several Naggaroth fortresses, allowing them to float on the sea. These sea cities were later called Black Arks.

"What do you think? Should we go and drive away those inferior Pointy-ears?" Panosen asked next.

"Me? At sea, you are the true expert. This ship is also yours, so you decide." Gromril had never seen a Black Ark, but he thought Malekith couldn't possibly be there by chance, could he? As long as they didn't encounter a particularly powerful legendary Dark Elf or one with a stack of unique titles, they should be able to take it down.

"I swear in the name of the Ancestors, I am not cowardly, but I must be responsible for my crew." Panosen laid the groundwork, and Gromril gestured for him to continue.

"I suggest we defeat, or at least drive away, that Black Ark, otherwise there might be trouble when the fleet returns."

Gromril nodded. To free up as much space as possible in the hull, the Sea Gate's warships were not fully crewed, and they didn't carry many cannonballs. On the outbound journey, with three thousand regular soldiers on board, no one dared to touch them, but the return journey might be different.

"Alright, this is also a good opportunity for training! I believe they won't be too strong!" Gromril agreed to Panosen's suggestion. The Dark Elves' high-tier troops generally had armor-piercing capabilities, but even if there were any on this Black Ark, there wouldn't be many.

The Dark Elves have an extremely rigid class system: below the Witch King and The Witch Queen are the seven Dreadlords, then nobles, commoners, and slaves. A Black Ark captain is usually just a minor noble.

Malekith restricts the power of his subordinates; he sows seeds of distrust among the various nobles, who constantly fight each other to please the Witch King. This tactic is solely to prevent the nobles from accumulating enough power to threaten Malekith's authority.

A moment later, a young dwarf wearing a windproof hood and a leather jacket entered the command room. "This is Altman-Rockbrow. He is our ship's engineer and is also responsible for the take-off and landing of the ship-borne airships."

"Greetings, esteemed Chosen of the Goddess. My friend Brockson has been under your care!" Altman greeted him and immediately got down to business.

"I've discovered a Black Ark, currently plundering along the coast of the Duchy of Lyonesse." He pointed to the location of a town on the map.

"This isn't a major human city!" Panosen analyzed, looking at the map. "They've already landed? Plundering for slaves?"

"What else? My Prince, isn't that what those black-skinned Pointy-ears are good at?" Altman confirmed Panosen's words.

"Their homeland, which they call Naggaroth, is an extremely barren and desolate place. The Dark Elves' important economic lifelines rely on plundered spoils, and the most crucial resource among them is slaves."

Panosen's expression was very serious; clearly, the Sea Gate had, or at least once had, clansmen who suffered such misfortune. In the slave markets of Karond Kar, dwarf slaves were always priceless, both due to their scarcity and their practicality.

"Slaves are always in short supply for those black-skinned folk. They have to provide labor, sacrifices, and act as cannon fodder in wars. Everything their evil masters don't want to do, they have to do. When they can no longer work, or for whatever reason, they might be offered to the Chaos Gods!"

"I suspect that Khaine the Bloody-Handed might have something to do with the Blood God!" Altman added.

"Hahaha, if only those short-lived human friends thought the same way. I heard some of them are still greedy for the looks of the Dark Elf sorceresses and are scrambling to become slaves! They don't even consider if they're worthy!"

Panosen returned with a joke after notifying the fleet to adjust its course. He left one armored ship to protect the transport ships, while the remaining three warships accelerated towards the Black Ark's position.

Gromril burst out laughing, "They really dare! Those ancient hags, who knows how old they are, could probably suck a Minotaur dry. If these humans last three days, Sigmar's being generous!"

"Exactly! I don't know what's so good about those shameless, poorly-dressed Dark Elves!" Panosen echoed.

"Hahaha, that's not necessarily true. Sometimes Slaanesh can be harder to guard against than Khorne!" Gromril laughed heartily. It was hard for the Dwarves' aesthetics to understand, but he could still appreciate it.

"Are we just going to sail straight over there? Won't those Dark Elves run away?" Gromril asked, looking strangely at the dreadnought charging full speed in one direction without any concealment.

"They haven't spotted my airship. Our altitude is too high for those Harpies to reach with their flimsy wings!" Altman said proudly.

The Dwarven steam airship was a creation developed by the engineers of Sea Gate only in recent years. They only began developing aircraft after confirming that the dragons of Caledor Kingdom were generally in slumber. Otherwise, only Slayers would be willing to be pilots.

The steam airship consisted of an armored hull suspended beneath a giant hydrogen gas bag. The airship could ascend or descend by controlling the amount of gas in the bag and steer using rudders. It also had a steam engine installed on its hull for traveling against the wind.

Half an hour later, Gromril saw a huge shadow in the distance. The scale of the Black Ark was unimaginably vast. Its appearance was like a formidable city, with many black high towers erected on it.

Grimnir's Thunder was already huge enough, but it wasn't even as tall as the Black Ark's base.

"Click! Click!"

With a dense whirring of gears, the dreadnought's main guns began to rotate. Panosen waved a signal flag in the command room, and with two thundering roars, the twin-barreled main guns fired.

Gromril saw a tower directly blasted down, and some small black dots scurried into the air in disarray.

"Beautiful! Get the clansmen ready for battle!" Panosen slapped the table and shouted.

"Do we have an elevator?" Gromril tugged at his beard, looking at the Black Ark whose distance was rapidly shortening. How were they going to board with such a huge height difference? That was a good question.

"Do you mean to board by jumping? We can't use those human tactics! Get the warriors ready for a landing operation!" Panosen was stunned for a moment, then reacted.

"Once our clansmen's heavy armor falls into the water, there's no way to rescue them. Even if they don't wear iron armor and switch to leather, it won't work. The Sons of the Mountains never belonged to the sea; we can't float in the water even without any clothes on!"

Balin explained to Gromril from the side. Cousin Tomi was left by Gromril in the Old World to procure subsequent supplies, while this distant cousin got the chance to go on the expedition.

"It's just high density," Gromril mumbled. The clansmen of this world attributed physics knowledge to feudal superstition. However, even if they could float, the Dwarves would not abandon their armor, as the casualty rate would be unacceptable for a race with low fertility.

The Dwarven warships moved towards the shore while firing at the Black Ark. With several splashes, several wide pontoons were thrown into the water from Grimnir's Thunder.

The battle-ready clansmen quickly rushed ashore via the pontoons. Gromril did not take the anvil of doom. Although the Dark Elves' ranged firepower was not as good as that of their green and white kin, underestimating them would still come at a cost.

Before Gromril was a scene of Dark Elf chaos. In the previous battle, the Black Ark pirate captain had easily destroyed the town's fragile walls by sending out an Abyssal Siren.

Abyssal Sirens resembled War Hydras, except they lived in the unknown deep sea, their slimy bodies well-suited to resist the pressure of seawater. Many constantly swaying tentacles, armed with razor-sharp teeth, replaced the snake heads.

But the residents of this small city were not fools; as soon as they saw the giant beast, they knew the city walls were insufficient for defense. Some who could fight engaged in street combat with the Dark Elves within the buildings, while those who couldn't fight fled desperately through the back gate.

The pirates on the Black Ark simultaneously sent cavalry to capture the escapees and plundered resources within the city, slaughtering and capturing those who resisted. Just as they were happily burning, killing, and looting, the Dwarven artillery began to fire.

The leading Dark Elf noble immediately issued orders to rally his troops when he saw the situation was dire, but his selfish subordinates were too busy collecting spoils. Who would be willing to fight the Dwarves to the death?

Actively responding to the captain's orders would result in fewer spoils and an earlier death for them. These guys took forever to gather, and Gromril's troops had already formed ranks on the shore by the time they reluctantly assembled.

Gromril was enraged watching the pitiful humans tied together with ropes, dragged, whipped, and occasionally having parts bitten off by Cold Ones. This side had been industrialized for who knows how many years, yet the other side was still practicing slavery.

The formation painstakingly organized by the Dark Elf commander put the Dwarves at ease. He formed the front line with Dreadspears, behind whom were a bunch of Black Ark Corsairs, some carrying common one-handed swords, others equipped with hand crossbows.

"Indeed, there are no Naggarond Black Guard or Har Ganeth Executioners on this Black Ark! My kin! Attack! Crush those Pointy-ears!" Gromril commanded his clansmen to launch an offensive.

Dreadspears form the bulk of the Dark Elf army. Through the baptism of blood, they have learned the power of discipline and the might of a solid shield wall bristling with spear points. These merciless individuals are trained to be a military bulwark that every Dark Elf noble can rely on.

The spearmen formed dense lines, adopting a defensive posture against the Dwarven army's attack. The intense ranged firepower shook them so much they could barely hold their shields. The Black Ark Corsairs behind them also tried to retaliate, but their hand crossbows had no advantage in firepower or range.

Gromril noticed that the enemy commander had pulled some Cold One Knights and a few chariots to the flanks of the formation, likely preparing to charge the Dwarves' ranks from the side, but he was not worried, as his troops had an advantage in both numbers and quality.

Moments later, the dwarf vanguard collided with the Dark Elves' shield wall. Almost instantly, the enemy's shield wall buckled.

The Dreadspears were no match for the Ironbreakers, no matter how much the Chaos energy flowing through the northern continent had affected them.

Elves, due to their affinity for the Winds of Magic, were most influenced by the Chaos Gods. It stirred the seeds of arrogance within the Elven soul, causing their pride to swell continuously.

The Dark Elves further realized the power of indulgence and tried to harness it.

Driven by madness and the pursuit of sensation, they fought the High Elves to a standstill despite being at a disadvantage in population and resources.

But that was on a macro-level, between races. On the battlefield before them, the Dark Elves still couldn't compensate for their inferior equipment and physical talents.

The clumsy Black Leviathan was herded back from the city wall by the Beastmasters. Although the giant beast, accustomed to the ocean, could move on land, it was still subject to some limitations.

The dwarves' ranged firepower continuously targeted the sea monster, but its scaly skin effectively blocked damage from ranged weapons; many projectiles didn't hit squarely and simply slid off.

"Where are my rockets?" Gromril watched as the sea monster, its constantly writhing tentacles emitting soul-shattering wails, approached his warriors.

He roared, and soon a group of Iron Drakes, carrying modified weapons, moved to the front of the formation. This entirely new unit, assembled by Gromril at great expense, was about to engage in its first real combat.

They didn't need to aim, firing their rockets directly at the sea monster. Twenty missiles, trailing exhaust flames, streaked towards the giant beast.

Although the Dark Elf commander had never seen this latest weapon, he keenly realized its immense power.

Spiked whips and taming rods struck the Black Leviathan. The monster twisted reluctantly; the implements were imbued with unique Dark Magic that caused intense stimulation but only minimal physical damage.

It dodged a few rockets but was hit by the rest. For a moment, "Boom!" "Boom!" echoed incessantly. While the individual power of these might not match a cannon, they excelled in sheer numbers, and their specially designed conical warheads made them more likely to penetrate the giant beast's thick hide.

After the smoke cleared, seven or eight bloody holes were gouged into the sea monster's body, and several tentacles were severed. The creature, having sustained such massive damage in an instant, paused before breaking free of its restraints and fleeing towards the sea.

The dwarf naval ships started moving, accelerating to intercept it, while the Dark Elves were stunned in place.

Dozens of Cold One Knights, who had just circled around to the flank, witnessed this scene but did not retreat.

Cold One Knights were considered elite among the Dark Elves; they were the most excellent warriors. It was also not easy to obtain a Cold One mount, so they were all prominent, ambitious noble scions.

Cold Ones are ferocious, cold-blooded carnivores, much larger than horses. They identify enemies by scent, and to avoid being attacked by their mounts, Dark Elves must repeatedly smear themselves with the foul-smelling venom exuded by the Cold One, only then will the beast accept him.

Applying the venom came with many side effects, but the benefits were also immense. No matter how well-trained or meticulously cared for a warhorse was, it would be hard-pressed to last a single round against Naggaroth's brutal Cold Ones.

These Knights themselves and their mounts were clad in heavy armor forged by Elven smiths, and they charged towards the dwarves, wielding lances capable of piercing dragon hide.

They knew that such powerful weapons would require a long time to reload, and seizing this opportunity might offer a glimmer of victory.

"You want to charge? No way!" Gromril activated his Rune of Slowness. The Cold One Knights felt as if the air around them had solidified, their charge speed sharply decreased, and they were intercepted by the dwarf melee units that had moved into position.

The power of the rune also restricted their speed when trying to turn or retreat their mounts.

Gromril watched as the cavalry's speed was reduced to not much faster than his clansmen, and he was very satisfied with the effect of the Rune of Slowness. He had never even had a chance to test it in the heartland of the Mountains Kingdom before.

The eager Slayers rushed forward, wielding their axes to dismember the cold-blooded animals. The Dark Elves' frontal defensive line also collapsed after a brief, desperate struggle.

The Black Ark Corsairs had nothing to deal with heavy armor, as they often engaged in close combat between masts and on narrow decks.

These Corsairs typically used light weapons: cutlasses, punch daggers, barbed short swords, and so on. They were effective at cutting unarmored sailors, but against dwarves, they could only leave scratches.

Gromril saw the Black Ark captain retreating to his Black Ark, surrounded by a small squad of Dark Elves wielding halberds and noticeably different equipment.

Gromril believed those individuals were the Black Guard of Naggarond—elites trained by The Witch King Malekith.

This small group appearing here was clearly not to serve as the Black Ark captain's personal guard or assault force; they served more as a surveillance unit.

Just as Gromril wondered why the captain still wanted to run to the ship, a Manticore descending from the sky gave him the answer.

The creature most revered by the Dark Elves was the Manticore, as they believed it to be one of the thousand incarnations of Khaine, the Bloody-Handed God.

The Manticore swept aside the Black Guards near its master with a pounce. The Black Ark captain leaped onto its back, preparing to escape by air.

"Good idea!" Gromril muttered. True to a pirate who had made a living at sea for years, he had a good grasp of the situation; running to the Black Ark now would only lead to a desperate last stand.

Gromril weighed his hammer, aiming at the Manticore in mid-air. The monster's wings were membranous, primarily used for gliding in the Mountains; it couldn't truly fly too high or for too long.

Gromril activated the Rune of Power on his gauntlet and his Stormhammer skill, and the hammer shot out with even greater force.

The Black Ark captain was still immersed in the joy of escaping when suddenly his mount let out a wail, flapped twice, and then plunged straight down.

The dwarves swarmed the landing spot. The captain had fallen and was barely clinging to life, easily slain.

Seeing no hope of escape, the Black Guards shouted and launched a desperate charge at the dwarves.

Gromril did not want to risk the lives of his clansmen to test the armor-piercing effects of the Dark Elves' enchanted halberds. He directly signaled the ranged units to open fire, overwhelming this elite group that had no shields or low-tier meat shields for cover.

The dwarves showed no mercy to these heinous Dark Elf pirates, who harbored deep-seated racial hatred, and slaughtered them all. A large amount of blood stained the entire beach red.

"Their cloaks are pretty good! They'd be nice to wear after we capture them!" Panosen said, taking a piece of loot and shaking it out.

"Sea Dragon Cloak, right?" Gromril smiled as he looked at the item. He took the cloak and felt it.

"You know about this too? Usually, only us sailors have the chance to encounter it. This scale-leather comes from Sea Dragons; although they're called dragons, they can't fly. As armor material, it's very light yet incredibly strong," Panosen explained, clearly knowledgeable about the item.

Gromril naturally claimed the higher-quality cloak from the Black Ark commander, though it was clearly far too large for a dwarf. Gromril simply cut it in half, sharing it with Panosen.

After plundering the wealth from the Black Ark, the dwarves filled it with explosives and detonated it completely. Otherwise, the Dark Elves might have used some sorcery to raise it again.

Gromril gained a substantial profit. Pirates often spend years repeatedly raiding foreign coasts, only returning home when their holds are about to burst with slaves and loot.

A portion of the expedition's cost was recouped before even landing, and victory helped him gain the little bit of experience needed to level up to five. Gromril was very satisfied, feeling the new power surging from the depths of his body.

After releasing the captured humans and returning some of their plundered wealth, the dwarves returned to their warships via the pontoon bridge amidst a chorus of gratitude.

Gromril returning some wealth wasn't out of charity; he wanted to lay some groundwork for future endeavors.

Gromril could see the heart of the Skaven Under-Empire and the birthplace of the Skaven—Skavenblight—on the strategic map in the system. It was located near the northwestern city-states of Tilea, deep within the Withered Marshes.

There weren't many powerful dwarf strongholds around Skavenblight. To destroy it, Gromril would most likely need the help of the surrounding forces of Order, so building good relations with them beforehand and promoting his name might be helpful.

The Skaven destroyed the dwarf strongholds of the Grey Mountains and Black Mountains during the End Times. If these large rats weren't dealt with, Gromril wouldn't sleep soundly, even after defeating the Everchosen.

Once out of the inland sea of the Black Gulf, the ocean waves grew larger. Although Ms. Schumann appeased manann's wrath with her divine magic, even normal waves made many clansmen who had never set foot on the open sea uncomfortable.

Numerous reports of symptoms like dizziness, headaches, nausea, and vomiting were compiled and given to Gromril.

He knew, of course, that this was the result of seasickness, but even in his previous life, the exact cause was never fully determined, and the effectiveness of medication varied from person to person.

Ms. Schumann had some divine spells to suppress seasickness, but her power was not enough to cast them on the entire fleet.

Gromril himself experienced some symptoms, but he decided to share the hardships with his clansmen. On Panosen's advice, clansmen with symptoms took turns going to the deck for fresh air, eating small, frequent meals, which somewhat alleviated their seasickness.

A few days later, Gromril felt the waves gradually calm down. He knew he was close. The fleet would sail upstream from the mouth of the Great River Mortis. The area they were about to enter was called the Land of the Dead; before becoming the Land of the Dead, its name was Nehekhara.

More than two thousand years before Sigmar founded the Imperium of Man, many human city-states emerged along the Great River Mortis. They were eventually unified by a powerful individual named Settra.

Centuries later, a great demon—the Lord of the Undead, Nagash—appeared in Settra's city, Khemri, though at the time he was still a prince of Khemri.

In Nehekhara, the eldest son was to become a priest, and the second son inherited the city-state's throne. Nagash was displeased with this arrangement.

Coincidentally, a group of Dark Elves, blown off course by a storm, fled to Nehekhara and eventually fell into Nagash's hands. He imprisoned these Dark Elves, coercing and enticing them to reveal the secrets of Dark Magic.

This genius sorcerer combined Dark Magic with his existing skills, creating the rudimentary form of Necromancy. After gaining power, he usurped his brother's throne and dominated all of Nehekhara.

Like every overlord, he also desired immortality. To achieve this, he used the nation's resources to construct the Black Pyramid. Eventually, the other kings were so exploited and oppressed that they could barely survive, so they united to rebel against Nagash.

The Lord of the Undead was not yet powerful enough at that time. He was defeated but still escaped. In the centuries that followed, dynasties rose and fell, and every kingdom tried to rebuild their lands after Nagash's destruction. Nehekhara fell into disunity once again.

Centuries later, a hero known as Alcadizaar the Conqueror unified the land once more. But this good fortune was short-lived, as Nagash returned with an army of the dead, even more powerful than before.

However, Alcadizaar was prepared. He knew Nagash and his followers would not give up, so he devised many methods specifically against the undead. The living actually resisted the attacks of the dead!

In his impotent rage, Nagash even hired the Skaven to poison the Great River Mortis—he had befriended the Skaven during his period of accumulating power. The poison contaminated everything in the Great River Mortis basin. When Nagash arrived again two years later, Nehekhara had only a three-digit number of living people left.

Nagash specifically made Alcadizaar immune to the poison, capturing him alive to satisfy his cruel amusement. After consuming a large amount of warpstone, Nagash unleashed a massive awakening spell, attempting to raise and enslave all the dead from Nehekhara's history.

The Skaven were frightened; they had witnessed Nagash's power. For this, these creatures released the imprisoned Alcadizaar and gave him a sufficiently powerful weapon.

The last king of Nehekhara, while Nagash was halfway through his spell, rushed in and furiously hacked at him. The Lord of the Undead, his power exhausted, was this time directly sent to the underworld, and Alcadizaar also paid the price with his life.

The awakened dead were not enslaved but retained their original consciousness. These former kings began to wage war against each other once more.

As the warships collided with the numerous shipwrecks at the bottom of the river, the dwarves were ready. The Great River Mortis Delta was filled with the wrecks of adventurers seeking fortune and the remnants of Nehekhara's former navy.

Gromril saw a magnificent pyramid in the distance. "King Amenhotep's Pyramid! Zandri's most prominent landmark, we're almost there!" Balin's voice echoed in his ears.

After entering the Great River Mortis Delta, Gromril and his companions witnessed a sight they would never forget. Large numbers of Skeleton Warriors and constructs roamed among the yellow sand and rubble. The barren land held a strange desolation.

The silence of the Land of the Dead was broken by the roar of the outsiders and their warships. Soon, the dwarves noticed the shadows of some flying objects in the sky.

"Are there birds in the desert?" Gromril now intensely disliked flying things that didn't obey him.

"Carrion Vultures. They are also resurrected Undead. These large birds can smell blood and will flock to battlefields a thousand miles away like moths to a flame. They are the scouts of the Tomb Kings."

Panosen said, observing the river's direction and adjusting the position of the Dreadnought.

"Zandri was once the divine realm of Ula-Tyep, Nehekhara's Vulture God. The humans of this region once worshipped animal gods derived from the desert's fierce beasts. However, Nagash found and broke their channels for interfering in mortal affairs. Without worship, they should have already entered their twilight."

Balin said, looking at the dossiers. The dwarves and Nehekhara had interacted historically, during the golden age of the Mountains Kingdom.

"According to inscriptions brought out by adventurers, vultures were the sacred spokesmen of Ula-Tyep, carrying the souls of fallen warriors into the sky to wage endless war against dark demons."

After a while, the dwarves saw a legion of Undead emerge from the left side of the river. An unnamed Tomb King, seated on his Skeleton Chariot, approached from a distance. A sandstorm rising on the horizon heralded the arrival of the Undead, with the rhythmic clatter of skeletal horses and the whirring of chariot wheels echoing.

Through his spyglass, Gromril saw the mummified body of the Tomb King, the golden ornaments glittering on him, and the ornate carriage of the Skeleton Chariot. He suddenly understood why so many adventurers turned to grave robbing upon arriving in Nehekhara.

"Don't worry, they can't cross!" Panosen thought Gromril was concerned about the Undead army wading through the water to attack the dwarf fleet.

"The Tomb Kings have very few ships. After Nagash poisoned the land, all the ships were taken by those in power to escape. The limited trees were, of course, also cut down for shipbuilding. As for Nehekhara after they were awakened, it was already a wasteland. There were no raw materials to build ships."

Altman-Rockbrow added. He was the engineer of this ship and stayed in the command room when not busy.

The Tomb King silently watched the dwarf fleet leave his territory. During the subsequent journey, more Tomb Kings were awakened by the roaring sound, but they all maintained a watchful attitude.

The subordinates of these Lords of the Undead were their former sacrificial troops, difficult to replenish once lost in battle, and they did not wish for unnecessary losses.

A few days later, a magnificent city appeared within the dwarf fleet's line of sight. This was Khemri, once the most important and greatest city of the Nehekhara Empire, and the heart and capital of this empire.

"Are you really sure you want me to go ashore here to deliver a message to The Undying Emperor?" Balin asked for final confirmation, tidying his attire.

"Indeed, our previous Barak-Var fleets that brought exploration teams past here never went ashore to communicate. Perhaps…" Even though it had been agreed upon in advance, Panosen still tried to persuade him at the last minute.

"If they dare! Our Sons of the Mountains' axes and cannons will make them utterly dead!" Henrid was a warrior, unaware of the might of Emperor Settra and the Tomb Kings. He shouted, shaking his fists!

"If I had a choice, I wouldn't want to either. But we will constantly pass through this waterway in the future. Even if we can go back and forth this time while he is unprepared, what about next time? And the time after that?"

Gromril muttered, gazing at the majestic city in the distance. Khemri was no longer as glorious as it once was; the massive obelisks, temples, and palaces had lost their luster under the erosion of time. The marble pyramids had also decayed and fallen into disrepair.

However, one among them stood out: a dark pyramid, standing outside the city, taller than any other pyramid.

This was Nagash's Black Pyramid, a gigantic energy fortress built by the Lord of the Undead—who was once the master of this city—with the full might of the nation, specifically to collect magical energy. Ancient legends say Nagash's tomb also lies within it.

Even in the underworld, the great power of the Lord of the Undead still enveloped this structure. Every Tomb King feared his resurrection from within, but no one could destroy it.

Balin mustered his courage and, protected by ten Iron Hammer Guards, stepped onto the sand from the gangplank. He carried a formal diplomatic letter in which Gromril, in a remarkably humble tone, requested The Undying Emperor Settra to grant this fleet, and all future dwarf fleets, passage through the Nehekhara rivers.

The dwarves watched from the ships, ready to provide cover with their naval cannons at any moment. Many worried that those incommunicative skeletons would simply kill the young advisor on the spot.

Fortunately, however, the dwarf fleet's movements were quite significant, and it had been sailing in the Great River Mortis for several days, so even The Undying Emperor had been alerted. He dispatched a Tomb Prince from his retinue with troops to monitor them. This former Nehekhara noble had retained his consciousness and ability to think.

Unlike common sacrificial victims, the souls of nobles were bound to their esteemed bodies by the Lich Priests through numerous magical spells and rituals drawn on their wrappings. Thus, under Nagash's ritual to awaken all the dead, their souls also revived.

Gromril watched from afar as the Tomb Prince picked up the letter, then spurred his Skeleton Steed and galloped back into the city. After a while, he returned with a group of Ushabti, escorting several Skeleton Chariots.

"dwarves, the great Emperor of Nehekhara, King of Kings, Settra the Chosen of the Gods… demands your master to grant him an audience!" The Tomb Prince's skeletal mouth opened and closed, his hoarse voice transmitted through magical vibrations.

As the greatest emperor in Nehekhara's history, Settra had an countless number of titles. However, unlike most people with a head full of titles, most of Settra's titles were genuine.

Gromril saw the empty Skeleton Chariot and guessed what the last few words would be. While the Tomb Prince was reciting those titles, he busied himself changing clothes and packing the pre-prepared tribute.

Nearly two hours passed, and the sun in the sky had shifted from western decline to completely set before the Tomb Prince finished speaking. Gromril, Rogov, and the guards carrying gifts disembarked from the warship.

The Tomb Prince bowed slightly, and Gromril stepped onto the foremost skeleton chariot. Rogov and Balin rode with him. The other Iron Hammer Guards also boarded the chariots behind them in order.

Gromril advanced into the city along the main road, escorted by Ushabti on both sides of his chariot. The Ushabti were colossal stone guardian statues carved in the likeness of Nehekhara's ancient gods.

These over three-meter-tall figures were, in a sense, monuments to Nehekhara's former power. Lich Priests bound the spirits of ancient heroes within the constructs' bodies through powerful magic. Thus, their every movement was imbued with the temperament of the residing heroic soul in life and the power of the gods.

Standing on the chariot, Gromril leaned on the carriage and observed the historic city of Khemri. Some locations here were renowned throughout Nehekhara, from massive pyramids and towering temples to mysterious Sphinx statues.

The Tomb Prince was not a diligent guide; he rode silently on his war-steed, leading the way. However, Gromril still recognized two landmarks based on the literature he had read and his memories from his previous life:

The Great Khemri Obelisk, which chronicled The Undying Emperor's deeds in life, and the temple of Petra, Nehekhara's former chief deity, the Sun God.

The chariots moved swiftly along the empty streets. After about fifteen minutes, the dwarves saw a vast expanse of pyramids. Adventurers who had come here before called this the Khemri Necropolis.

This was a labyrinth composed of hundreds of smaller pyramids surrounding Settra's own Great Pyramid. As Nehekhara's most powerful city-state, the successive kings here had built the most numerous and largest pyramids for themselves.

After several twists and turns, the chariot stopped in front of the largest pyramid. Gromril looked up at the intricate creation, a testament to the wisdom and sweat of countless Nehekharan scholars and laborers.

Standing on either side of the entrance was a Bone Giant. These colossal figures were as tall as true giants, but they were not the skeletons of giants. They were still constructs, but due to the Nehekharans' obsession with death and eternal life, the colossi were directly sculpted to resemble giant skeletons.

The Bone Giants' bodies were covered with skulls, bones, and other common funerary decorations, and they wore ornate breastplates and crowns. Awakening such a behemoth required the combined magical power of twenty Lich Priests.

Gromril climbed down from the chariot and walked into the pyramid with his head slightly bowed, his guards following behind, carrying gifts. The grandeur of this building was commendable even by dwarf standards, though it lacked a bit in exquisite detail.

The tomb passages within the pyramid were very complex, with many forks and traps. Gromril thought it would be difficult for his entire force of three thousand to conquer this single pyramid, let alone with so many of Emperor Settra's descendants around.

Not to mention the other troops in the burial pits, just the Ushabti, appearing in pairs every few steps, and the two Bone Giants at the entrance would be enough to give the dwarf troops a hard time. These constructs were massive and powerful, and the damage they inflicted could not be absorbed by armor.

However, Gromril then considered that Settra probably hadn't anticipated awakening in this manner with his subordinates, so preparing some traps to deal with tomb raiders was reasonable.

Following the guiding Tomb Prince, they wound their way through the pyramid, delving deep into its interior. Suddenly, the space opened up, and they entered a grand hall.

Before Gromril's eyes was a flight of stairs. He looked up and saw a jewel-encrusted sarcophagus at the top of the stairs. Upon it sat a king, adorned with a magnificent ceremonial crown, his mummified body completely covered by golden armor inscribed with runes.

Compared to the somewhat diminutive mummy, the two enormous lion-shaped constructs beside him were undoubtedly more eye-catching. Gromril's subordinates involuntarily tightened their grip on their weapons. Perhaps out of confidence in their own strength, the dwarves had not been asked to surrender their weapons upon entering the hall.

Those were two Khemri War-Sphinxes. They lay at the king's feet, as peaceful as pet cats, yet everyone who witnessed them could clearly sense the power they contained.

In adventurers' records about the Tomb Kings, there was almost no mention of these creatures, because they were not exposed but guarded the entrance to the king's bedchamber.

Unlike the clumsy Bone Giants, they were not only incredibly destructive and almost invulnerable, but also incredibly fast, and possessed the ability to leap. It could be said that no intruder could escape their pursuit.

"Creature of the Mountains, why have you come to Nehekhara, my kingdom?" The figure on the steps spoke, his voice deep, revealing an intense aura of dominance.

"I offer you my most profound respect! Your Majesty Settra, Great Emperor of Nehekhara, King of Kings, Chosen of Petra, Champion of the Desert Gods, Watcher of the Eternal Necropolis!" Gromril took a deep breath, stepped forward, and, after a deep bow, began to speak.

As a visitor of appropriate status, Gromril did not recite all of Settra's titles like a servant or a slave. He selected a few of the more representative ones, titles that Settra had already earned in his lifetime, and presented them.

"Rise!" Settra's voice took about half a minute to respond. Gromril had maintained his bowed posture; this was the lowest he had ever humbled himself since his transmigration.

"I am the son of Thorgrim Grudgebearer, the current Lord of the Mountains, and the Chosen of Valaya, the Mother Goddess of my race. I am on a divine mission to reclaim our ancestral lands in the Southlands, and must pass through your territory. I offer a small gift, and I ask for your indulgence!"

Gromril straightened his back, clearly and concisely stating his identity and purpose.

"Has the once mighty Dwarf race also fallen into decline now? Your ancestors once contributed to the construction of my tomb." Settra looked at the group of dwarves before him, recalling something.

Gromril knew, of course, that Settra's rise predated Sigmar's establishment of the Imperium of Man by two thousand five hundred years. At that time, the War of the Beard had not yet broken out, and the Elves and dwarves were still in their honeymoon period.

The sky and sea belonged to the High Elves and their dragons, while the land belonged to the Dwarf Holds. The dwarves were exceptionally powerful, and the humans of Nehekhara at that time had received no small amount of help from the dwarves. This was also why Gromril dared to seek an audience.

"In consideration of your ancestors' goodwill, I permit your request without issue! However, your kinsmen have disturbed the slumber of my people and stolen their wealth! I hear you are fond of remembering grudges, so how should this be accounted for?"

Settra said as he stood up, placing his hand on the hilt of the sword at his waist. The two Sphinxes seemed to sense their master's anger and began to stir.

Feeling the might of Settra and the two War Sphinxes beside him, Gromril felt sweat trickle down his temples. He knew what Settra was talking about.

Two thousand years ago, a Holy Hammer War broke out between the dwarves of Karak-Azul and the Tomb Kings, caused by the dwarves' desire to reclaim the holy relic, the Hammer of Argrym, from the city of Maharak, east of Casket Canyon.

After winning the chaotic battle and reclaiming the Hammer of Argrym, the dwarves returned to Iron Peak Fortress, believing the matter concluded. However, the hammer contained a bronze disc belonging to King Akharad, and the Tomb King immediately raised an army to reclaim it.

In the years that followed, the Holy Hammer changed hands over thirty times. The names of the Tomb Kings were continuously added to and crossed out from the book of grudges.

"Your Majesty, please hear me out!" Gromril composed himself and spoke. He knew that Settra had invited him here not to settle a two-thousand-year-old score.

"You consider Maharak your territory, but King Fal there does not acknowledge you as his lord!"

King Fal was a king of Settra's era; he once ambushed Settra's army in Casket Canyon and repelled him. However, after his death, Settra quickly captured Maharak.

When King Fal awoke from his slumber, he was furious to find that his descendants had submitted to Khemri. He then dragged out and destroyed the mummies of all subsequent Kings of Maharak from their pyramids, then threw all his might against Settra.

"By my reckoning, my kinsmen and I are also fighting for you against the disloyal. As for those riches, after thousands of years, who can clearly account for their ownership? Why should The Undying Emperor dwell on them?"

Settra had only made a gesture; he sat back down, and the two War Sphinxes also quieted.

"Your Majesty, I know what you desire in your heart now, and I also know what troubles you!"

"Oh? Your ancestors were not as articulate as you. Speak then. My court has been silent for thousands of years. If you speak well, the King of Kings will bestow a reward!" Blue light flared from the eye sockets beneath Settra's mask.

"What you desire most is to regain your immortal golden body!"

Settra realized the brevity of life in his middle age. For this, he established the Mortuary Cult to unravel the mystery of eternal life for him. These priests found ways to extend The Emperor's lifespan beyond the normal human limit, but still could not achieve immortality.

For this, Settra had the priests bind his soul to his body through sorcery, to remain in the mortal world, to be awakened when technology advanced enough to perfectly revive him. All subsequent Kings of Nehekhara, in pursuit of eternal life, sponsored the Mortuary Cult, and the power and influence of these priests grew.

Nagash was a member of the Mortuary Cult. After he awakened the Tomb Kings, he was ambushed by Alcadizaar, and the Tomb Kings began to wage war against each other.

Imagine if, in Gromril's previous life, taking Zhu Yuanzhang as an example, how would he act? He would have to fight the Yuan Dynasty, who caused his family's ruin; he would have to fight the Aisin-Gioro family, who stole his Old Zhu family's foundation; he would have to fight Zhu Di, the fourth son, who seized the empire from his good grandson Emperor Jianwen; and he would have to fight Emperor Yingzong of Ming, who brought shame to the Old Zhu family.

Nehekhara was thus turned upside down, with the War of the Dead being orders of magnitude more intense than the wars of the living. The leader of the Mortuary Cult, High Priest Khatep, decided to resolve the problem. These priests were already between life and death and were unaffected by Nagash's magic.

His method was to awaken Settra. The Undying Emperor's pyramid was protected by powerful sorcery and was not directly awakened by Nagash. Settra was furious upon awakening; he was still just a skeleton, and even if it was inlaid with gold, it was not an "immortal golden body."

He exiled Khatep, defeated the other Tomb Kings, and brought Nehekhara back under his rule, but none of this made Settra happy. He was merely a skeleton, unable to enjoy fine food, wine, or women. What joy was there in that?

"And what troubles you most is the return of Nagash!" Gromril continued.

"I can defeat that unworthy descendant of Khemri once, and I can defeat him a second time!" Settra responded this time.

"Every time the Lord of the Undead returns, his power grows stronger! His servant, Black Arkhan, is constantly preparing for his resurrection!" Gromril hit the nail on the head.

"Arkhan, merely a stray dog! Unwise as a minister, untalented as a general!" Settra was very disdainful.

"That's just bragging!" Gromril muttered inwardly. The Grand Vizier, chief disciple, and general of the Lord of the Undead possessed immense power, killing many heroes in the process of resurrecting his master. Even after Settra defeated his army, he could not harm Arkhan himself.

"Nagash's Black Pyramid still stands outside Khemri, and the Lord of the Undead's magical shield is difficult to break!" Gromril continued to present facts. This time, Settra could not refute him. He had tried to destroy the Black Pyramid through physical and magical means, but all were in vain.

"Haha! I didn't realize there was such a nimble tongue among the dwarves, but I wonder if, a thousand years from now, when you've turned to dust in your tomb, this tongue will still remain!" Settra, whose thoughts Gromril had accurately described, was in an even better mood.

"Speak, the Breaker of the Dikaf's Bond allows you to offer your wisdom! If it is useful, there will be a place for you in the Desert Lord's court, and even being granted a fief and made a king is not impossible!"

Dikaf is the god of death in Nehekhara; the Breaker of His Bond refers to one who has transcended the boundary of life and death.

"Your Majesty, I cannot immediately resolve what you desire and what troubles you!" Before Gromril finished speaking, the soul fire in Settra's eye sockets flared.

"I currently have no way to achieve rebirth, but I can promise that once I find a method in the future, I will deliver it to you at the first opportunity! As for Nagash, I, and almost everyone in this world, do not wish to see him return to the mortal realm and desecrate the dead! I am willing to stand with you against him and his minions!"

Gromril had made two empty promises, but what he needed was not much either, merely military passage rights.

The soul fire in The Undying Emperor Settra's eye sockets flickered. During his long wait, he had long lost faith and patience in his Lich King priests, so perhaps having one more person to rely on was not bad.

"Present the gift to the Tamer of the Lich King!" Gromril decisively raised the stakes. His two Iron Hammer Guards opened a box, revealing a finely crafted golden armor set, and carried it to the foot of the steps.

"Enough! I shall grant your request!" Settra spoke, tapping on the lid of his sarcophagus. "My unworthy descendant compiled his blasphemous methods into nine dark scrolls, do you know of them?"

"Yes, we call them the Nine Books of Nagash."

"Good that you know!" Settra said, raising his hand to summon a mummy wearing a scorpion-shaped headdress. Gromril judged from its attire and form that it must be a Tomb Technician.

If it were a Tomb King or a Tomb Prince, it would be adorned with noble ornaments and receive more refined preservation. If it were a Lich Priest, it would not be in mummy form.

Tomb Technicians were not ordinary laborers, but ambitious master builders whose aspirations were so grand that an entire lifetime was not enough to realize them.

During their lives, Tomb Technicians supervised laborers in building cities and pyramids under the scorching sun, and after the pyramids were completed, to ensure the secrets of their mechanisms were not revealed, they too would be killed and interred as sacrifices.