After giving a few instructions, the Tomb Technician turned and left, quickly returning with a golden tray. Gromril saw that there seemed to be two items placed on it.
"Little dwarf, step forward!" Emperor Settra beckoned. Gromril responded by walking up the steps.
"Do you recognize these two items?" The Tomb Technician, following his master's command, presented the tray to Gromril. On it were an exquisite pendant and the head of a mining pickaxe.
The artifact repository in Gromril's mind reacted; both of these items were extraordinary. The former was a component of Gazul's bestowed token. This item was originally a token given by Gazul, the dwarf God of Death—whose power was second only to the three main gods and the strongest among the ancestral lesser gods—to his chosen one.
The warrior who received the token went missing on his journey to eradicate undead villains from the world, and the token was lost with him. If it could be reforged, it could be used as a token to summon a hero from the Ancestor Halls managed by Gazul.
And the latter was the head of Grungni's Divine Pickaxe. As the name suggests, it was once an artifact belonging to Grungni, the dwarf Father God. The Father God used it to mine ore and carve out the dwarves' first fortresses in the Mountains.
This artifact itself was incredibly sharp, splitting Mountains and rocks with ease. More importantly, once it was combined with the pickaxe handle, the ancestral Grungni runes inscribed upon it would be restored.
That rune contained boundless power, capable of protecting dwarves within its effective range from all harm for a limited time, while also enhancing their strength and morale. This was also a necessary condition for Gromril to perform the Ultimate Grungni Rite.
"Gulp!" Gromril couldn't help but swallow. He almost lost control of his hands reaching for those two items.
"Answer, answer His Majesty!" the Tomb Technician urged.
"They should both be, both be ancestral treasures." Gromril, of course, wouldn't tell the truth, but he also didn't dare to lie completely. These two components were different from the three divine artifacts he had previously collected, which had hidden their true nature; their extraordinary qualities were quite obvious.
Emperor Settra himself had seen countless rare treasures and possessed extraordinary spellcasting abilities—yes, he was not just a warrior on a chariot, but also a Priest King, and even knew some spells of the Lich Priests.
Settra and his subordinates would certainly have the ability to identify magical items, and since they had already picked them out, trying to bluff his way through would undoubtedly be self-humiliation.
Upon hearing this, Settra's soul-fire flickered strangely. This supreme ruler, who served no one but commanded all, perhaps saw that Gromril's words were not entirely true, but he did not expose him. After all, he knew that these two items could only be utilized by dwarves, so as long as they had value, that was enough; what specific value they held was not important to him.
"One of these two items was presented as tribute by King Paimon, whom I enfeoffed to Vulture Mountain, and the other was captured when I suppressed the rebels of Lahmia!"
Settra fell into a recollection of his achievements. In his lifetime, he historically unified Nehekhara for the first time, and after reawakening, he defeated the later kings to unify it again. To describe him as unprecedented and unparalleled would be most fitting.
"For each of the Nine Books of Nagash you find and present to me, you may take one item!" Settra retrieved the tray, handed Gromril a scroll of papyrus, and signaled that he could leave.
Gromril said no more; bargaining with a Tomb King would likely not yield good results. He and his subordinates walked out of the pyramid and once again boarded the skeletal chariot to return to the riverbank. Along the way, Gromril remained silent, deep in thought.
"Where can I get the Nine Books of Nagash?" The only thing Gromril was certain of was that Black Arkhan had them, but he didn't want to challenge the Lich King to experience the power of his Tomb Blade and Staff of Nagash.
It should be noted that his current body was cut down by Grumm the Great Belly King with an axe, and Grumm, after his Waaagh! on Ulthuan, was in turn defeated by Prince Yrellian, Aesarion the Ruthless. But during the End Times, Arkhan turned the High Elf Prince into dust with a single Age Curse.
These dark tomes also didn't possess the "divine self-concealment" quality, giving Gromril no chance for a lucky find. Any creature, intelligent or not, could feel the dense dark power within them.
"Perhaps the Cult of Sigmar might have some? Or maybe the original Vampires?" Gromril reluctantly thought of two possibilities. His system was not the Tomb King's model and couldn't provide information about the Nine Books, so he could only investigate them himself.
Walking out of Khemri, Gromril looked at the special transit permit stamped by Emperor Settra in his hand, very satisfied. With this, his future shipping and transportation would be guaranteed.
The dwarf fleet set sail again. The Great River Mortis, with Khemri as its boundary, changed its name to the Ashen River further east. Gromril's next stop was Quata, which guarded the entrance to Casket Canyon.
Because not every king of Nehekhara could afford the cost of building a pyramid, many Priest Kings carved tomb chambers into the cliffs of Casket Canyon to house their noble remains.
Over time, a magnificent necropolis formed there, along with many huge colonnades and temples for rituals. Quata was therefore also known as the Palace of Corpses or the Eternal Passage.
The flow of the Ashen River was much faster than the Great River Mortis. Panosen tied the sailing ship behind the dwarf ironclad to tow it upstream. Although their speed was limited, the steam engine would not rest at night. They covered the five-hundred-kilometer journey in just two days.
As a white stone city appeared in their sight, Gromril knew that Quata had arrived. In front of Quata's main gate stood two Sacred Titans, as tall as giants. These constructs were first activated in Quata, used to guard the kings buried in Casket Canyon.
Their faces were carved in the image of the Nehekhara God of Death. These statues exuded an evil magical aura, and it was said that those who stood in their shadow could hear the cruel laughter of ancient gods. It was believed that they would serve as guides for the souls of fallen emperors, leading the souls of mortal emperors to the realm of souls.
Balin was once again sent as a messenger to meet Tutankhamun III, the Tomb King who now ruled Quata. This young dwarf advisor knew he couldn't achieve much on the battlefield, so he was willing to risk diplomatic dangers for honor.
After awakening, Settra defeated other Tomb Kings and re-allocated territories. For the skeletons, conditions like water sources or habitability for living beings were no longer important. Thus, each King received a piece of land.
The papyrus sealed by The Undying Emperor had an immediate effect, and the dwarves quickly received authorization to build a small port. Most dwarves were skilled craftsmen, and they completed the work almost overnight.
A large amount of supplies was unloaded from the sailing ships. After Gromril offered some gifts, Tutankhamun III generously dispatched his skeleton chariots to transport the supplies for the dwarves.
After all the supplies were loaded, Panosen was preparing to return. Gromril had been thinking for several days, hesitating to speak, unsure if the Sea Gate Prince in front of him was trustworthy. But in the end, the desire for the artifact components overcame his vague worries.
Gromril asked Panosen to take a secret letter back to Cousin Tomi, the content of which was to gather intelligence for him in the Old World about the Nine Books of Nagash. Collecting such blasphemous books was taboo everywhere.
Grimnir's Thunder roared and departed, but Altman-Rockbrow stayed behind, recruited by Brockson. Gromril had purchased two dwarf helicopters, but he didn't have experienced pilots.
This wasn't due to a lack of charisma; even in the most open Zhufbar, clansmen willing to leave the earth and embrace the sky were among the most adventurous. It was simply that King Serenthin of Zhufbar refused to release them.
Training a qualified pilot required learning a large amount of theoretical knowledge and then undergoing hundreds of hours of actual flight training. The resources consumed were arguably the most of all combat units.
Even when Gromril used Revival Points to apply an 'Energetic' effect to King Serenthin, he would only provide apprentices who hadn't completed all their training. These dwarves could only fly; they had no experience in reconnaissance or combat missions.
Altman's inclusion greatly remedied this deficiency; he was an experienced aircraft pilot and engineer.
Guided by a Tomb Prince serving as a guide, the dwarf army chose to march through the desert at night when temperatures were lower. But even avoiding the torment of the scorching sun during the day, the march was not smooth.
The dwarves were too heavy and easily sank into sand pits, while the skeletons were extremely light. The guide ahead ignored obstacles and took the shortest direct route, but many places were impassable for Gromril's subordinates.
Stopping and starting, they only advanced a dozen kilometers overnight. When the sun came out, the troops rested on the shaded side of a dune. The erosion of sand and wind tormented the three-thousand-strong force; neither dwarves, humans, nor Amazonians had experience marching in the desert.
Fortunately, this was the beginning of the expedition, the troops' morale was high, and supplies were plentiful. They endured until dusk and then set off again. Such a force also attracted many undead creatures from the desert.
Jackals, sand lizards, scorpions, and other creatures lurked in the shadows, plotting against Gromril's subordinates. These creatures were only skeletons now; they had lost their biological fear but still retained their bloodthirsty instincts.
The dwarves and knights wore their armor constantly, so they were not harmed by these reanimated beasts, but the warhorses and Amazonians suffered some losses. Gromril also noticed a bear, which was Andumgar's mount, but this ranger also had no experience marching in the desert and had not yet shown any exceptional abilities.
After another night of marching, a grand canyon finally appeared before them. The army entered under the scorching sun and found a cool mountain hollow to rest.
"Bah! Prince, when we take Highland Fortress, we have to come back and fix this broken road!" Henrid spat and plopped down on the ground. This strong man had eaten a lot of sand along the way.
"Yes, to get rich, first build roads!" Gromril himself was unaffected; the master-grade Passage Rune on his Stalli Boots made him walk as if on level ground. But seeing his subordinates' hard work, he felt anxious, pondering countermeasures while also thanking Krag the Grim's generosity.
"Send out the helicopters! Check the situation at Karag-Red Cloud Mountain!" Gromril looked at the red sky and gave the order. Red Cloud Mountain was an active volcano, named for the lava that erupted from its crater, staining half the sky red.
Karag-Red Cloud Mountain was the southern gateway of the central World's Edge Mountains; beyond Casket Canyon lay the Southern World's Edge Mountains. It was a fortress carved into the mountain, with Red Cloud Mountain existing first, and then the royal tombs in Casket Canyon.
Gromril wanted to further explore the Southern World's Edge Mountains and had to control Red Cloud Mountain first. It was foreseeable that for a long time in the future, he would have to communicate with the outside world via Casket Canyon to Quata by water. This fortress guarding the canyon could not be lost.
The helicopter pilots wiped away the dust, performed simple maintenance, and then took off. Half an hour later, they returned.
Watching the approaching helicopters, Gromril couldn't help but sigh slightly. The Rune Transceiver he developed made the already scarce Rune Smith even more sought after, as without someone to charge it, a Rune Transceiver could only transmit simple messages at a time.
This directly led to Gromril, the Vice President, being a figurehead in the association; he had no apprentices of his own, and hiring other Rune Smiths was not smooth either. Everyone knew that Gromril would take the lion's share of the profits from this expedition, especially for unique items like Runes and treasures.
So, if it was all about making money, why not accept employment closer to the core dwarf regions? Compared to assisting Gromril in unknown lands, it was a higher and safer position.
"What's in the fortress now?" Gromril asked Altman, who had disembarked from the helicopter.
"Greenskins! A Greenskin warband."
"Greenskins? No rats?" Gromril muttered.
"Rats? I'm not sure. If those skaven were there, wouldn't they be underground? Do you want to…" Altman was stunned by the question; for a moment, he didn't know if the presence of rats was a warning from an ancestral god.
"It's fine!" Gromril stood up. According to his memories from his previous life, Karag-Red Cloud Mountain should have had a fellow in red plate armor—Queek Headtaker—but it seemed it wasn't his time to appear yet. If possible, Gromril wouldn't mind not giving him a chance to appear at all.
"Sons of the Mountains! The ones occupying Karag-Red Cloud Mountain are a group of shameless greenskins. Are there any warriors willing to scout their strength?" Gromril roared. His expedition had truly begun now.
To be honest, Gromril breathed a sigh of relief when he heard it was a greenskin warband. He vaguely remembered that Karag-Red Cloud Mountain also had a landmark called the "Clan Mors Headquarters." He had repeatedly confirmed with human and dwarf adventurer predecessors that there were no traces of rats before choosing this path.
Otherwise, if he had to fight the first clan under the four Great clans of the Skaven Empire right from the start, Gromril's expedition would certainly not have a bright future.
"Kohn of clan Moyir is willing to go!"
"It is my duty to serve in the restoration of our homeland!"
Having left the desert, the dwarves were once again invigorated. Every clansmen smelled the scent of wealth and glory. Historically, among all the expedition teams that tried to find Karak-Zorn, reaching the Southern World's Edge Mountains had already overcome a small portion of the challenges.
Gromril was unwilling to dampen his clansmen's enthusiasm at this point, and on the other hand, he also wanted to select some qualified leaders. Currently, the only one around him who could fully handle things on his own was Henrid. His previous position as a gatekeeper did not mean a guard, but rather a city defense commander.
Many dwarves were sent out in small teams. They either came from a single dwarf, a single clan, or had originally ventured together. There were also those who simply got along well on the journey and formed temporary teams.
The greenskins occupying the Red Cloud Mountain fortress had not yet realized the danger approaching. They had no vigilance whatsoever. By evening, the scouting dwarves returned one after another, having thoroughly investigated the situation of this greenskin warband.
This greenskin group was not native to the area but had migrated from the Badlands. The dwarves speculated that they must have discovered the geomantic network in the middle section of the World's Edge Mountains. Greenskins are one of the few races capable of digging tunnels.
This particular greenskin group had not gained the upper hand in their territorial struggles in the Badlands and was forced to retreat here, so their strength was not particularly great. Gromril decided to attack directly under the cover of night.
When his forces had an advantage, Gromril's tactics were relatively simple: a portion of his clansmen would launch a surprise attack from underground, while he would lead the rest in a frontal assault from above, supported by artillery. The two foreign contingents would each be responsible for one flank to prevent the greenskins from escaping, and the knights would be concentrated as a mobile force.
Some disputes arose over the command of the underground forces. Johnson Strongshield's resume was not particularly outstanding, and several clansmen volunteered to compete with him for the leadership position.
Gromril was happy to see healthy competition, especially when it did not threaten his overall command. However, this time, for the sake of a quick victory, he still appointed captain Johnson as the main person in charge. Of course, he also promised that those who volunteered would be observed closely during the battle.
When the benevolent moon Manslibu reached its zenith, Gromril's Rune Anvil lit up. Johnson signaled that the underground forces were in position. Casket Canyon had been riddled with tunnels by the former kings of Nehekhara over a thousand years, and the dwarves easily carved a tunnel directly into the interior of the Karag-Red Cloud Mountain fortress.
Gromril pointed his warhammer, and large groups of troops poured out of the mountain hollow. The greenskins of Red Cloud Mountain had not noticed anything yet, and this was not surprising. After such a long time with only skeletons on both sides of the canyon, who would still remain vigilant?
With a few cannon shots, the dwarves charged forward, shouting battle cries. The goblins in the greenskin camp were startled. They screamed and ran everywhere, waking up the sleeping orks.
Soon, a group of Black Orcs rushed out of the camp. Black Orcs get their name from their dark green or black skin, their black-painted armor, and their notorious reputation.
These strong orks possessed something other greenskins lacked—a high degree of discipline and organization. Coupled with their sturdy armor and heavy blades, they were practically born for war.
Gromril licked his lips as he watched those fellows. To be honest, he was quite envious of these Black Orcs. It was said that they were secretly cultivated by the Chaos Dwarfs of the Dark Lands. Under dark magic and selective breeding, Black Orcs overcame their disadvantages and magnified their strengths.
A Black Orc Boss, even more robust than his peers, roared, urging the ordinary orks still sleeping in their shacks and burrows to get up. Black Orcs were few in number, so despite their disdain for the sloppiness of common orks, they were forced to associate with those fellows.
Brockson personally operated a ballista, aiming at the Black Orc Boss who was constantly yelling and swinging his large choppa. A flaming spear, accompanied by a heart-stopping whoosh, flew straight towards the Black Orc Boss.
A scene that startled the dwarves occurred: the Black Orc first parried with his battle-axe, then blocked with his left-hand shield, and the ballista bolt was directly nullified.
"Waaagh!"
The Black Orc Boss let out a war cry to the sky. Ever since leaving the Badlands, he had been chopping skeletons every day. These things didn't bleed, didn't scream, and it wasn't satisfying to chop them.
The ork battle line had not yet stabilized when Henrid led the dwarf vanguard to attack. The Black Orc Boss immediately spotted the dwarf who was also larger than his kin, wielding a two-handed battle-axe with one hand. The two strong men clashed.
The dwarves and orks also began to hack at each other. On one side, there was height and strength; on the other, excellent equipment. It was originally a fairly even match. But soon, the greenskin side showed signs of decline. Their ranged firepower was simply too poor.
Goblin archers and ork archer boys either had low armor-piercing capabilities or poor shooting accuracy, not on the same level as the dwarves' Thunderers and ballista bolts. The Black Orc Boss quickly noticed that his subordinates were constantly being hit in vital spots by several projectiles and falling down.
"Gutless dwarf! Only daring to sneak attack from afar with shots!" Seeing the unfavorable situation, the Black Orc Boss swung his great axe, knocking Henrid aside, and tried to retreat. The orks still fighting around him also prepared to flee.
Just then, captain Johnson led his subordinates out from behind the greenskins.
"Boom!" "Boom!"
The dwarves first threw a round of detonators they carried. The sudden explosions startled the greenskin ranged units in the back, causing them to rush forward and collide with the retreating front lines. Amidst the smoke and dust raised by the explosions, it was unclear who had arrived from behind, only shouts of battle could be heard.
The ballistas and cannons then launched another volley. The morale of the greenskins, excluding the Black Orcs, collapsed. They dragged their weapons and scattered to the sides of the battlefield. The Black Orc Boss shouted and yelled but couldn't control the rout. Cutting down two or three deserters only made the greenskins move further away from him.
At Gromril's instruction, the dwarf battle formation's flanks opened up some gaps for a portion of the Greenskins to escape. They thought they could find another place to continue plundering and Waaaghing, unaware that the Humans and Amazonians were sharpening their blades.
Gromril did this to break their fighting spirit. If he forced them to make a last stand around the Black Orc Boss, it would still cause some losses to his subordinates.
After the other troops collapsed, the Black Orc's breakout became powerless. Henrid commanded the dwarves not to clash head-on with these desperate individuals, but to focus on defense, slowing them down and leaving the damage to be dealt by ranged units.
"That Black Orc Boss, I love him!" Gromril stood on the anvil of doom, shading his eyes with his hand, watching him charge left and right through the dwarf formation. He was quite moved by his heroic 姿態, where dwarves had to give way when his great axe swung.
"Don't hit the upper body! Aim for his legs, I want him alive!" Gromril instructed the ranged units. If given the chance, he really wanted to try to subdue this disciplined group of Greenskins. The dwarves naturally had no objections, and with focused attention, the Black Orc Boss was shot down to the ground.
"If those disrespectful, grey-skinned, red-eyed, horned Chaos mutants from the north can be enslaved, then why can't I, Gromril-az Thorson, a dignified Transmigrator, enslave this Black Orc?"
During the heyday of the Mountains Kingdom, the dwarves explored north along the World's Edge Mountains. Far beyond the already fallen Red Eye Mountain, they discovered a cursed land, but due to its rich mineral deposits, many clansmen insisted on staying.
With the Chaos invasion and the Great Earthquake, these clansmen lost contact with the dwarves of the Old World. Under the pressure of survival, they no longer worshipped the distant Ancestor Gods, but instead worshipped Hashut, the Father of Darkness—a lesser Chaos god in the form of a flaming bull.
They learned daemon forging and gained the ability to cast spells—at the cost of their bodies gradually turning to stone. With these new technologies, they opened up vast territories. To manage them effectively, their small population enslaved many races, but ultimately they were severely weakened by slave uprisings led by the Black Orcs.
Seeing that the battle was decided, Gromril's Anvil Guard carried his anvil from the back ranks to the front of the battlefield. Gromril weighed his hammer in his hand, pondering.
"Big black fellow! What's your name?" Gromril spoke.
"Pah!" The Black Orc raised his upper body and spat at Gromril, but Gromril was seated high and was not hit by the spittle.
"Still quite stubborn!" Gromril smiled, "Ah, I am..." Having witnessed the many titles of Emperor Settra, Gromril also wanted to list his own from beginning to end.
"Hornless dwarf, don't spout nonsense in front of me!" The Black Orc Boss interrupted Gromril's announcement of his titles.
"You refuse a toast only to drink a forfeit!" Gromril also got angry. It seemed this Black Orc was very uncooperative! "Either submit to me, or die!" he said in a deep voice.
"Waaagh! Black Orcs will never be slaves!" The Black Orc Boss roared even louder.
"You're seeking death!" Gromril flung the warhammer in his hand, shattering the Black Orc's head, which counted as a kill for him.
"How could this be? Or was it always like this?" Gromril thought as he wiped the red and white from his hammer. He vaguely remembered that The Witch King Malekith had once supported ork Warlords. Was it the work of his magic?
He had no relevant information or resources at hand, and no energy for seven captures and seven releases or prolonged persuasion at the moment, so Gromril directly delivered the killing blow. Anyway, there were plenty of Greenskins in this world, and it wouldn't be too late to try again when he had time.
Gromril then used the Valaya Ritual to wash away the various erosions in the Karag-Red Cloud Mountain fortress over thousands of years, saving the clansmen time in cleaning.
However, over a long period, this fortress changed hands between the Tomb King, Vampires, and Greenskins. It now urgently needed repairs to restore its basic defensive capabilities.
One item among the Black Orc Boss's personal belongings attracted Gromril's system: a gem glowing with a warm blue light. This Spark Gem could be combined with the dwarf collar previously confiscated from Captain Salazar to form Latton's Beast Taming Collar.
Gromril, of course, did not hesitate. He took out the collar from his private storage box. With a tap from the system and a quick assembly, a treasure combining runic power, engineering technology, and enough luck was restored.
After putting away the collar, Gromril arranged the follow-up work. He decided to station and rest here for a short period, first thoroughly investigating the surrounding environment, resource points, potential enemy forces, and other information before entering the Mountains.
Combining the experience of his predecessors and optimistically estimating based on the map, it would be almost impossible for such a large army to reach Highland Fortress in less than a month, so a secure rear base was essential.
Under Gromril's command, the three-thousand-strong army all sprang into action. Two helicopters conducted aerial reconnaissance without stopping, while Knights and Rangers were sent out to investigate on the ground. Those with underground combat experience were responsible for exploring the abandoned parts of the fortress, while other clansmen used cement to repair and reinforce the utilized sections of the fortress.
North of Red Cloud Mountain is the Misty Mountain, an important Greenskin stronghold in the World's Edge Mountains. It once belonged to Gollum the Great Belly, and although no new, powerful Greenskin Warlord has emerged yet, Gromril decided to seal off the underground network to the north first.
Not long after he finished carving the runes for sealing and warning, the clansmen exploring downwards brought him good news. Protected by guards, Gromril descended along the newly opened, yet-to-be-cleaned stairs.
After passing several derelict halls, he saw a large hall sealed by runes. Looking at the crossed forging hammer and tongs symbol on the door, and the somewhat damaged statues of Grungni and Stadhammer on either side of the door, the dwarves confirmed that this was the Blacksmiths' Guild Hall of Red Cloud Mountain.
The master-level protection runes used to seal the door had gradually become ineffective over time due to lack of maintenance. Gromril easily opened the door. After a brief ventilation allowed the stale air inside to dissipate, everyone eagerly rushed in.
First to catch their eye was a massive forging apparatus, the hallmark of the Red Cloud Mountain Blacksmiths' Guild, renowned in the Golden Age. This apparatus directly channeled magma from an active volcano, capable of rapidly smelting meteorite iron or other materials at high temperatures.
In front of the forging apparatus was a set of chests. With Gromril's permission, the dwarves opened them. Inside were one hundred sets of brand-new meteorite iron equipment, ten of which had standard runes carved on them.
Experienced adventurers judged these to be goods produced by the Blacksmiths' Guild. They had taken other valuables when evacuating, but weapons and equipment were both heavy and already possessed by everyone, so there was no need to carry them. Therefore, they were all sealed away.
This was the first gain of the expedition. Gromril registered them in front of everyone and then moved them to the warehouse for temporary storage.
For this expedition, Gromril borrowed management methods such as attendance, performance, and KPI (Key Performance Indicators) from certain units in his previous life, and initially drafted a system for profit distribution.
Simply put, various gains would not be distributed immediately. Everyone could earn contribution points by performing daily tasks and making individual contributions. During the expedition, Gromril's rewards were also primarily in points.
Gromril announced a constantly updated floating exchange rate between points and gold coins. Holders of points could freely exchange them for treasures or cash them out for gold coins.
This was actually a prototype of a substitute currency, but Gromril had no plans to expand it. Currently, the Mountains Kingdom did not lack metal currency, and there was also oath gold as a supplement for large transactions.
As for fiat currency, Gromril had not yet thoroughly researched whether it should or could be promoted. Dwarves had always been plagued by gold sickness, so promoting fiat currency would face significant resistance, but it might also allow more wealth to circulate rather than being locked in treasuries.
Of course, this point system was limited to Dwarves and Knights. Ordinary humans and Amazonians were directly employed, and their income was not tied to the final gains of the expedition.
After spending a week simply reorganizing the Red Cloud Mountain fortress, Gromril was ready to pass through Casket Canyon and enter the Southern World's Edge Mountains. Cities in the real world would not automatically have defenders appear after being captured, so Gromril could only divide his troops to garrison them.
This was also what he worried about most before the expedition began; the closer he got to Highland Fortress, the fewer forces he would have. Gromril entrusted the task of guarding the rear to Johnson Strongshield, his initial follower, which was the best choice at the moment.
This Ironbreaker veteran and Anvil Guard captain finally gained importance. Gromril left him a force of five hundred men. He had to rely on these men to defend Red Cloud Mountain against potential attacks from Tomb Kings, greenskins, and Skaven who did not obey Settra's command.
The remaining troops advanced under Gromril's command. According to the map, their next stop was Spiderweb Mountain. While traversing Casket Canyon, the Dwarves were harassed by ownerless undead.
It could be said that none of the Nehekhara kings buried here rested in peace. Here, the kings' chosen tomb locations were close to each other, unlike in the past when they were dispersed, with the aim of facilitating concentrated guarding. However, this also conveniently provided an opportunity for tomb robbers.
Before Nagash unleashed the Great Spell, various bandit gangs gathered around the canyon. They either operated secretly or openly, even colluding with the local Quata people and guardians to engage in frantic tomb raiding.
Some mausoleums were plundered within just ten years of burial, forcing later kings to constantly rebury their ancestors. After Nagash awakened the dead, the pyramids along the Great River Mortis had tireless guardians, making them harder to rob. All tomb robbers turned their attention here.
The ancient kings who carved their tombs into the Mountains did not have as many sacrificial troops. A large number of tomb robbers, masquerading as adventurers, plundered their tombs, leaving them in disarray. As Gromril knew, many Dwarves were also among them.
Therefore, revived undead, having lost their masters, wandered through the canyon, attacking any living beings they encountered. As Gromril marched, a group of giant serpentine constructs burst out of the sand.
The leading one straightened its body and shot like an arrow directly towards Gromril, who was sitting on the anvil of doom. He deflected the serpent's head with a Stormhammer, and a well-equipped skeleton warrior standing on it then thrust his spear at Gromril.
Gromril had accumulated rich combat experience during his previous escort of merchant caravans. He twisted his waist to dodge the spearhead, grabbing the spear shaft with his gloved right hand. The skeleton warrior's strength was insufficient to contend with a dwarf, and Gromril pulled it over, then smashed its skull with the returning warhammer.
"Don't panic! Fight!" Gromril roared, somewhat irritated, but knowing he shouldn't blame his clansmen. These serpentine constructs moved mercilessly underground and then suddenly burst out of the surface, accompanied by yellow sand. The scouts ahead had no specific way to detect them!
These serpentine monsters attacked like real giant snakes. They swung their stone tails and tried to pierce the Dwarves' armor with their scimitar-shaped fangs.
Gromril noticed that the one that first attacked him did not stop even after its driver was killed, still tirelessly attacking his subordinates. The Anvil Guard around Gromril suffered some losses, but their achievements were not significant.
These clansmen used one-handed weapons to equip shields, and their blows on the several-meter-long constructs only chipped off a few pieces of rubble. This situation only improved when the Iron Hammer Guards and clansmen equipped with heavy weapons arrived.
With the help of Gromril's rune of slowing, the Dwarves controlled and killed several Tomb Knights, but many more burrowed into the sand and vanished without a trace.
Gromril frowned, but there was nothing he could do. After all, most of the guys who had seen these things before had become part of the dry bones in Casket Canyon, and he himself lacked understanding of the Tomb Kings and had no additional knowledge.
To cope with other potential threats, the Dwarves adjusted their formation, changing from a column to a circular array. Gromril himself led some elites at the front, while Rogov and the sufficiently powerful clansmen were in the middle, protecting supplies and ready to support whenever enemies appeared.
After another hour of marching, dealing with a few sporadic threats along the way, the Dwarves finally caught sight of the Mountains in the distance. Everyone's suspended hearts slowly relaxed; the Mountains were the home ground of the Sons of the Mountains.
Just then, Gromril felt his heart pound violently. He now had two traits: "Trickery Unveiled," obtained from killing Skarsnik, which increased ambush success rate and ambush detection rate.
And "Crow Hunter," obtained with the White Dwarf's help by defeating Malagor, the Dark Omen—which increased attack power and leadership against Beastmen.
It was clearly the "Trickery Unveiled" trait at work. Gromril looked at the sand in front of him and raised his warhammer, signaling the troops to halt.
"What's wrong, Master Gromril?" The scouts who were ahead returned when they saw this. They were blaming themselves for not being thorough enough in their work.
"I feel something under the sand!" Gromril said, sounding both like a command and a murmur. The Dwarves retreated at his words, and Brockson came to Gromril's side.
"Let's give it a try!" Brockson loaded high-explosive rounds into his double-barreled shotgun and fired them into the sand, but nothing appeared except for two craters.
"I'll do it!"
Seeing that Brockson's probing had little effect, Gromril stood up from his seat. He struck his Rune of Fury and Destruction, and a burst of flames and smoke erupted from beneath the sand.
A colossal scorpion-like creature, with a massive stinger on its tail and a pair of pincers as large as warhorses, burst forth from the ground. Amidst a sky full of rising sand, it lunged towards Gromril.
The Dwarf King, already prepared, once again threw the warhammer in his hand. The massive construct, struck, stiffened slightly in mid-air, and a barrage of projectiles rained down upon it.
It was cobbled together from a heap of stones, metal, painted wood, and bound bones. Compared to the stone-carved Bone Giants and Necrosphinxes, it was relatively fragile.
These Tomb Scorpions are said to have been created to protect the realm of souls from the depredations of dark powers. Nehekhara mythology records them guarding the entrance to the underworld here.
The dwarves' ranged fire briefly halted it, but this construct, fearless of death and pain, still charged rapidly towards the dwarves on its eight segmented legs, its tail hook swaying, eager to strike.
Gromril once again struck his Rune of Slowness. The power of the anvil of doom had shortened both the charging time and the cooldown of his runes. But Gromril was surprised to find that the rune's effect was not obvious on the Giant Scorpion; the enchantments on its body seemed to provide some magical resistance.
In fact, Tomb Scorpions are the mobile tombs of the Mortuary Cult Liche Priests. The spellcaster's soul provides vitality to the construct, as well as some magical resistance, capable of weakening or even directly nullifying magic.
Looking at those massive pincers, even the bravest dwarf felt a chill. No one wanted to test if their armor was strong enough. In a hurry, a dwarf stepped forward, charging directly at the Giant Scorpion. The clansmen all thought this reckless fellow was a Slayer.
Before they could cheer or lament for this warrior, the dwarf suddenly lay down on the ground. The surrounding warriors only thought he had been overcome with a rush of blood, charged out, and then got scared, muttering as they formed a shield wall, ready to brace for impact.
Suddenly, the enchantments on the Giant Scorpion flickered, then "poof!" they extinguished. Gromril seized the opportunity with a Thunder Strike, and the Giant Scorpion's charging speed sharply decreased, failing to break through the dwarves' shield wall.
What awaited it next were hammers and ranged weapons striking from all directions. Its menacing tail stinger was chopped off by Rogov's axe, and then it was crippled on the ground by several rocket-propelled grenades.
The dwarves cheered, and the warrior who had charged out also returned. Gromril looked down and saw it was Andumgar, who had presented the map earlier.
"Well done, lad! How did you do it?" Gromril praised.
"My ancestor's notes recorded that this scorpion-shaped construct has a mummified corpse in its abdominal cavity. If it can be destroyed, it will greatly weaken its power!" Andumgar demonstrated. After lying down, he raised his battle axe and accurately cut open the Giant Scorpion's belly.
Gromril made a note in the ledger of merits for the young Ranger. This Tomb Scorpion was indeed inlaid with many gold, silver, and jewels, which the dwarves naturally pried off. Then they flipped it over, emptied out the jars containing the Liche Priest's important organs, and took the other grave goods.
Afterward, the company continued its journey. Before nightfall, they finally entered the Southern World's Edge Mountains. After setting up sentries, they rested for a night, and the dwarves pressed on. After another five days, the reconnaissance helicopter brought back new information.
"Spiderweb Mountain is only twenty kilometers ahead. That place truly lives up to its name!" Altman-Rockbrow climbed out of the cockpit. He looked somewhat worried, clearly not about his own mission but about the army's path ahead.
"Speak slowly!" Balin handed him a mug of beer. By this point, the company's supplies were becoming a bit strained. Rations and meat were fine; the dwarves' main marching food, stone bread, was easy to carry, preserved well, and very filling;
Meat was replenished by the Amazonian warriors hunting in the jungles along the way, which was their true calling compared to being mercenaries. Their skill in jungle warfare was also one of the reasons Gromril hired them.
Only beer had become the most tightly controlled commodity. Balin was now Gromril's chief civil servant. He and his subordinates were responsible for managing military supplies, the ledger of merits, and mapping and compiling maps, among other tasks. And every time Balin tallied the remaining supplies, he would find that the beer had inexplicably decreased, and there was no place to replenish it.
"Gulp!" Altman took a swig. "Mogrim above! That fortress, Grungni's beard, from the sky, you wouldn't even think it was still a fortress!"
Gromril, who had read the previous adventure notes, knew what he meant. Spiderweb Mountain wasn't originally called that; it was named by later adventurers after seeing its completely new appearance.
After the dwarves abandoned the fortress complex in the Southern World's Edge Mountains, an Arachnarok Queen Spider, named, or perhaps self-proclaimed, Ungoliant, usurped the original Spiderweb Mountain fortress. She wove webs and bore young there, and her descendants continued this process.
A millennium later, when the first dwarf adventurers attempting to reclaim their homeland returned there, they were stunned by the sight that met their eyes: the entire exposed part of the fortress and the surrounding mountains were covered in dense white spiderwebs.
From then on, this fortress earned the name Spiderweb Mountain. But as time passed, the original Queen Spider seemed to undergo strange changes. She was immortal, and each time she was sighted, she seemed to grow larger, and her spiderlings and descendants also multiplied.
Another thousand years passed, and the Queen Spider, due to her immense power, reached certain agreements with the surrounding Savage Orcs. The Savage Orcs and Forest Goblins worshipped her as a minor deity, and she, in turn, allowed the Greenskins to command her offspring on the battlefield.
As the Greenskin warbands campaigned far and wide, her offspring gradually spread to various parts of the world. The Black Pit in the Drakwald Forest of the Imperium of Man is now the territory of her descendants, who, along with the Forest Goblins there, plague the Empire's inhabitants.
As Gromril looked at the information about Ungoliant, he increasingly found it familiar. He thought of the Norsca legendary lord, the champion of the Chaos Gods – Wulfrik the Wanderer's monster hunts.
The Brood Queen of Karak-Iron Peak Fortress was likely the same Queen Spider now entrenched in Spiderweb Mountain. The journey from Iron Peak Fortress to here is not far; past Red Cloud Mountain and then north. She was fully capable of wandering there.
Previous adventurers before Gromril had always quietly skirted around the mountain ridge, but Gromril's army was much larger than those expeditions of dozens or hundreds of people.
The range of the webs had been expanding, gradually leaving no room for a detour, so he decided to fight.
Gromril stroked his beard, recalling that this Arachnarok Queen Spider should be powerful enough to be mentioned in the same breath as the ancient Forest Dragon, known as the "World Root Serpent," the Flame Phoenix, "Mother of Flames," who had delved deep into the Chaos Wastes and burned eternally, the mighty giant Brogar, known as the "Mad Titan," and the "Ancient One's Behemoth," the supreme Tyrannosaurus Gargantuar, and the immortal multi-headed snake, the "Lymar Beast."
But wasn't his own army strong enough? Gromril had prepared well for passing through Spiderweb Mountain.
Considering that spiders and their webs feared fire, Gromril equipped Iron Drakes, Trollhammer Torpedoes, cannons, ballistas engraved with burning runes, and helicopters armed with sulfur guns.
These were all the latest technologies from the dwarf engineers over the years, which members of previous expeditions might not have even seen.
They would surely make the Brood Queen and her offspring pay a heavy price.
If possible, Gromril clutched the Beast Collar in his arms, thinking that having such a giant Queen Spider as a mount wasn't entirely out of the question; while not the most satisfactory choice, it would at least increase immediate combat power.
"Master, Master! How do we fight? Or do we still go around?" The surrounding managers looked at Gromril, who was touching something in his arms and spacing out, and couldn't help but remind him.
"Fight, we definitely have to fight!" Gromril shook his head; taking Spiderweb Mountain had been planned from the beginning.
In his contingency plan, the minimum acceptable outcome for this expedition was to capture Spiderweb Mountain and kill the Brood Queen, then temporarily halt progress due to heavy losses.
That way, at least the route to the Land of the Dead would be opened, and two lost fortresses would be recovered, allowing for resource development and accumulation of strength before making further plans.
"Old rules, we must first gather intelligence!" Gromril gathered his subordinates, pointing at the map. "Air and ground reconnaissance! If necessary and conditions allow, we must also survey the geomantic network! Johnson, you go…"
Gromril subconsciously called out Johnson's name; over the years, this reliable subordinate had earned his trust, but now he also needed to select new people.
"Andumgar! Are you willing to try?" Gromril pondered for a moment and decided to give the opportunity to the bear-riding Ranger.
Although he felt his temple was too small, Gromril decided to promote based on merit.
"Good!" The young man replied decisively.
"Then it's settled, Anagonda, your people will be responsible for the forest!" Gromril instructed.
He couldn't tell if these fierce women, whose bodies were covered in leather and woven grass, with exposed parts covered in tattoos and strange hairstyles adorned with colorful feathers, were female hunters, totem guardians, or warriors serving some animal god.
However, it was clear that these Amazonians had good morale, especially knowing that their opponent would be a potential spider demigod.
Two days later, information about the enemy was compiled and handed to Gromril.
The observed spiders were divided into four categories: three Arachnarok Spiders the size of houses were found; about forty large spiders the size of an Ogre lying on the ground; hundreds the size of Cave Squigs; and countless spiderlings slightly larger than normal spiders.
As for the Brood Queen, she had remained hidden in the fortress and had not shown herself.
The number of spiders was slightly less than Gromril had initially estimated, perhaps because the area could only support a limited number, or perhaps many had already been taken by the greenskins to various parts of the world.
Scouts also found traces of Savage Orcs and Forest Goblins.
Forest Goblins are another common variant of the highly adaptable Goblin species, besides Night Goblins, having adapted to deep forest environments.
Their choice of mounts also differs from wolf-riding Goblins and Cave Squigs-riding Night Goblins; they associate with spiders.
Spiders can traverse the narrowest terrain in the forest and also conceal themselves within it.
These greenskins tended to stay further south, but it could be estimated that if the dwarves launched an attack, they would certainly rush back as reinforcements.
Their exact numbers were not clear from the air, but they should not be too numerous to handle.
"Will they fight us to the death?" At the pre-battle meeting, Henrid-Dragonslayer was the first to speak.
"I think so," Anagonda's voice had a unique cadence. "They spent untold years and effort weaving such a massive amount of webs; they won't give up easily.
By the Old Ones, I feel even the Lizardmen's Ripperdactyls would struggle to fly over it!"
"I think it's the greenskins' tribute that allows these web-spinning pests to maintain such large numbers!" Andumgar stated his opinion.
"Indeed, Boss. Besides spiders, my people saw no other living creatures in the forest; they've all been eaten clean.
I imagine that with the spiderwebs in this area reaching such an extent, no creature would willingly walk into the trap anymore!"
Anagonda continued, stating that the ecology of Spiderweb Mountain amazed even the Amazonians, who had lived in forests for years.
Such a situation could only be maintained with external intervention.
Out of consideration for protecting their tribute-givers, the spiders would also fight the dwarves to the death.
"This is actually good news!" Gromril concluded. "We not only need to reclaim the Spiderweb Mountain fortress, but also continue our advance while possessing it.
Being able to eliminate them all at once will save us a lot of trouble later."
"In Grimnir's name! Just tell us how to fight!" Rogov sharpened his battle-axe; he saw those giant spiders and was already eager to earn another title for himself.
"Two steps! First, a feint attack to lure them out and eliminate some of their forces, reducing some pressure.
Then, a full assault to thoroughly solve the problem," Gromril decided.
"May I lead men to undertake the luring mission?" Andumgar volunteered.
"No, Anagonda will go. Those eight-legged beasts are too fast, and while you have your bear, your other clansmen might not be able to outrun them.
Our female warriors are the experts in jungle warfare."
Gromril decisively assigned the task to the professionals; they were hired at a hefty price not for hunting along the way to supplement nutrition.
Anagonda accepted it calmly.
"Then for the ambush force, we must annihilate the pursuers as quickly as possible, then press the attack!" Gromril looked at Henrid and continued to instruct.
"Respected Chosen of the Goddess, perhaps we can make it a little more, a little more complicated!" Just as Gromril was about to arrange the ambush troops, a voice came from outside the circle.
Gromril looked closely and saw that the speaker was Gorat of the Baruk clan. Although his clan once held a good position in the Mountains Kingdom, it no longer had its former prestige.
The Baruk clan once ruled Karak-Draz, which is Black Rock Fortress. After the fortress fell, they retreated to Karak-Dorn, a fortress in Thunder Mountain, to continue living while preparing to retake their homeland.
They had fought the greenskins for countless years, but now the mines of Thunder Mountain were about to be exhausted. After receiving Gromril's notice, the Baruk clan decided to abandon that place and gather entirely under his banner.
These stubborn dwarves refused to be split into different teams based on their unit type; they insisted on fighting as a clan. Gromril was not pleased with this; his experience in his previous life told him that having small factions within a team was not a good thing.
For this reason, Gromril gave up the idea of making this collectively joined clan a benchmark, and instead limited the position of clan Leader Gorat within the team. But with his rich combat experience, sufficient loyalty, and bravery, he still stood out.
"How so?" Gromril did not refuse him permission to speak.
"I suggest we don't directly eliminate them, but instead surround them. Other spiders will surely crawl out to save their kin, and then the results of the battle will be even greater!" Gorat analyzed, stroking his gray beard.
"Excellent! Even if the Brood Queen comes out with all her might, it's not a bad thing. That way, she abandons her spider nest that she's managed for a thousand years!" Gromril became happy.
He now had some qualified captain-level commanders around him. These individuals could execute combat missions with quality and quantity but lacked organizational skills and necessary tactics and schemes.
Of course, he knew this was normal. dwarves had such a small population, and the lords of smaller fortresses only had a thousand troops. Junior commanders only had the ability to command a hundred men; they generally inspired and guided their subordinates by directly participating in battle.
For Gromril, this was not enough. He didn't want to do everything himself, at least not always. However, he couldn't ask for more and could only discover talent from his existing subordinates.
War and expansion brought many opportunities, which was also why many clansmen gave up their stable lives to join his team.
"You will be responsible for commanding the closing troops!" Gromril gave this task, which combined danger and honor, to clan Leader Gorat, who had proposed it.
He needed to ensure that the first batch of spiders lured out could not escape back, and at the same time, he had to hold the line between the time the second batch of spiders rushed out and the first batch was annihilated.
During these two days of reconnaissance, Gromril's subordinates found that these large spiders were active day and night, but seemed to be more frequent and active at night. Therefore, the dwarves still scheduled the battle for the morning.
After breakfast, the Amazonians began to move. They had to go ahead and set up some traps and other facilities; otherwise, how could two-legged people ever outrun eight-legged beasts?
At the appointed time, the previously silent forest suddenly stirred. The dwarves could feel the ground trembling and see the trees constantly swaying.
A moment later, Anagonda sprang out of the woods like a leopard, "They're here! A giant spider!"
The dwarves quickly made way for the Amazonians to pass. As soon as the line closed, several Ogre-sized spiders darted out. Beneath their segmented legs were densely packed, smaller versions of their kind.
"Fight slowly! No rush!" Gromril shouted from the anvil of doom. Although the large spiders' natural segmented legs and mouthparts were sharp, they were still difficult to penetrate iron armor. The damage they inflicted on the dwarves mainly came from their added monstrous strength.
Gromril applied a Rune of Warding to the foremost Ironbreaker. This rune was said to have been created by Mother Goddess Valaya and could reduce the impact of all misfortunes on everything.
"Bang!"
It was another collision of flesh and steel. The dwarves, bolstered by runes and shield walls, withstood this impact. They began to grapple with the spiders. To avoid killing too quickly and making the beasts behind them afraid to come out, Gromril did not arrange powerful units like Slayers or Iron Hammer Guards to participate in the battle.
The single-handed weapons of the front-line clansmen were quite effective at cutting adult squig-sized spiders, but when they struck the large spiders, they barely cut through the bristles; cutting off a segmented leg would take considerable effort.
After a brief contact, a low, heart-pounding "hiss!" sound came from the forest. This sound did not come from the spider's mouth, but from the friction between other parts of its body.
As trees fell, an Arachnarok Spider emerged. Although mentally prepared, seeing this colorful creature still made Gromril feel a wave of revulsion. The discomfort caused by insects was much greater than that caused by constructs.
"Retreat slowly! Try not to make direct contact with it!" Gromril roared from the anvil of doom.
The dwarf troops were not foolish, of course. They slowly retreated, luring the giant spider away from the forest.
"Kill those Forest Goblins!" Gromril turned and commanded Brockson. The giant spider carried an ugly, huge saddle on its back, which by human standards was two stories high. Dozens of Forest Goblin archers were jumping on it.
Gromril wasn't worried about how much damage their poisoned but still inferior arrows would cause the dwarves, but rather because these cunning fellows might see through the dwarves' tactics.
A lone giant beast was a true disaster for adventurers with fewer numbers and no heavy weapons. Their resistance was like scratching an itch through a boot; they could only offer their necks to be slaughtered.
But for regular armies with a large number of firearms, these instinct-driven beasts were not so terrible. They only caused trouble when commanded by intelligent beings, advancing and retreating with discipline.
"Boom!"
"Bang bang bang bang!"
The Organ Gun and cannon fired simultaneously. The palanquin, like a living target, was instantly blown to pieces. This was not the fault of the Forest Goblins; having lived in the Southlands, they had never seen such things!
The Arachnarok Spider shook its eight pillar-like legs, flinging off the fragments of the palanquin. This thing made it uncomfortable, and those green little things were even more noisy. If its old grandmother hadn't demanded it, it would never have allowed any of this to happen!
The liberated giant spider charged towards the dwarves. It was somewhat puzzled as to why the tall, monkey-like creatures that had originally disturbed it had now turned into this group of short, earthy-smelling creatures.
But none of that mattered now. What mattered was that they were abundant, fresh meat, and it happened to need a good meal.
The dwarves retreated while fighting, luring the Arachnarok Spider over a hundred meters away from the forest, where they had prepared a trap for it.
Freed from the Forest Goblins on its back, the Arachnarok Spider was completely controlled by its bloodthirsty desires. It charged straight in and then fell into a large pit that had been dug beforehand.
The dwarves around Gromril stood at the edge of the pit, attacking downwards, while Gorat also led his clansmen to kill their way out from both sides, blocking the escape route for the other spiders in this wave. However, a few eight-legged creatures still managed to escape back into the forest due to the intentional gaps.
Gromril's subordinates focused on killing the large spiders that hadn't fallen into the trap, while primarily protecting themselves. For the Arachnarok Spider in the pit, they continuously attacked its protruding limbs to prevent it from climbing out.
In the dwarves' view, only this creature was worth rescuing by the forest dwellers; the other spiders and their offspring were easy to replace.
After a moment, movement was heard from the forest again. Gromril was secretly delighted; the spiders really would fall for it! The dwarves continued to slowly torment the surrounded creatures, but the spiders in the forest didn't charge out immediately.
"By Gork and Mork! Have arthropods developed intelligence too?" Gromril muttered, looking at the shadowy but unmoving crawling creatures in the forest. Logically, they should only have ganglia, but this was, after all, a fantasy world where dragons could fly, so it seemed reasonable that biology didn't fully apply.
"Add some more spice to the one in the pit!" Gromril decided to provoke them further.
The Iron Drakes came forward at his words; they had been itching to get at that huge target for a long time. To avoid killing it outright, the dwarves adjusted their firepower. The Arachnarok Spider had nowhere to hide in the pit and writhed in agony from the flames.
The strange "hissing!" sound made the dwarves uncomfortable, but it undoubtedly stimulated the spiders in the forest even more. Hearing the wails of their kin, the rustling sounds in the forest became more pronounced.
"Increase the intensity!" Gromril stood up from his seat and shouted through gritted teeth.
Just then, the communication rune on his anvil of doom lit up. It was a message from Altman in the sky; he had seen another giant spider, which had come out as reinforcement, retreat!
Perhaps the Mother of Reproduction in the stronghold had seen through the dwarves' plan, or perhaps their own information had been exposed while gathering intelligence on the spiders. After all, this was still their home turf; spiders could be everywhere under the roots and in the canopies, watching the scouts' movements with their compound eyes without being detected by the scouts.
"Things don't always go as planned!" Gromril shook his head. He gestured for the Anvil Guards to carry him over. "Make way, make way!" The Guards pushed aside the clansmen gathered around the Arachnarok Spider and squeezed to the front of the large pit.
"Come, everyone, gather 'round! I will offer this Arachnarok Spider as a sacrifice in a Valaya Ritual to the Ancestor Goddess! The merciful Mother Goddess always watches over and protects us!" Gromril knew a fierce battle lay ahead, and he wanted to use his ritual system to boost the combat power and confidence of his clansmen.
Without prior preparations, Gromril asked his clansmen to gather their personal idols and other symbols of faith. For this expeditionary force, assembled by divine oracle, this was not difficult.
Facing the gathered items, Gromril, without a prepared speech, simply performed a pantomime. He stood on the anvil of doom's base, closing his eyes, gesticulating wildly, and shaking his head for a long time. Then, he suddenly opened his eyes and unleashed a Stormhammer, sending the half-roasted Arachnarok Spider to its demise.
After openly stealing the kill, Gromril was very satisfied with the noticeably increased experience bar. He then chose the poison immunity effect in the Valaya Ritual, temporarily applying it to the entire army.
Maintaining this ritual over a large area was very costly, and Gromril was unsure if it would be effective against the Skaven's biochemical poisons. After all, the Ancestor Gods had already departed by the time the Skaven appeared. But it should certainly be effective against the spiders' biological toxins.
As the aura spread outwards from Gromril, everyone's desire to fight reached its peak, spurred by the divine grace.
"Iron Drakes, lead the way! Don't spare the ammunition! Everyone else, prepare torches and other incendiary materials, we attack! Reclaim the Mountain Stronghold, this is the battle!" Gromril raised his warhammer and pointed forward, and the dwarves charged in under the sun.
At this point, environmental protection was no longer a concern for the dwarves. Strongmen wielding heavy two-handed axes cleared a path with the help of flames, and the dwarves quickly passed through the forest area surrounding the stronghold.
Ten minutes later, a vast expanse of white spiderwebs appeared before them. The flames spewed from the Iron Drake Handcannons ignited them directly. Spider silk is made of flammable protein, and the spiders themselves secrete a layer of oil on their bodies and feet to avoid getting stuck in their own webs.
The flames from the Iron Drake Handcannons were so hot that even iron armor couldn't withstand them; the Iron Drakes had to wear meteorite iron armor to ensure their safety. With such intense flames, supplemented by torches and lamp oil, Spiderweb Mountain was engulfed in a sea of fire within a short time.
"They're here!" The dwarves felt the ground beneath their feet constantly trembling. With a continuous "hissing!" sound, everyone knew that the decisive battle was about to begin.
The first to rush out were overwhelming numbers of adult spiders, the size of squigs. They were faster and smaller, and not very resistant to fire. Fortunately, though numerous, their impact was insufficient.
The dwarves placed Ironbreakers at the front, with shield-bearing Longbeard veterans and regular Warriors guarding the flanks. The other troops provided ranged firepower from the arch-shaped front line's bridge-like openings.
Just as the dwarves were grumbling and scoffing at the spiders' suicidal behavior, they heard the war cries of the Greenskins. Scattered Forest Goblins began to appear on the backs of the spiders charging out from behind.
These cunning creatures, just like their ordinary counterparts, saw that they couldn't breach the front line and immediately prepared to launch an attack from the flanks. The Bretonnian Knights mounted their warhorses and charged before the spider riders could stabilize their formation.
The quality of the warhorses and Knights was far superior to that of the spiders and Goblins. Two or three hundred spider riders were routed by the much smaller number of Knights in a single charge. Forget the thrusts of the Knights' lances; the trampling of the warhorses alone could smash them into green pulp on the ground.
But no one relaxed; they knew the real challenge was yet to come. "Crackle! Crackle!" Large burning trees were toppled as two Arachnarok Spiders burst out, followed by a large number of big spiders.
These creatures also had Savage Orcs riding on their backs. Gromril had seen these guys before—unarmored, wielding crude weapons, and adorned with colorful war paint. Compared to the Grey Mountains, this was where they truly belonged.
"Fire! Hit them hard!" Gromril roared, and his subordinates, no longer holding back as they did with the previous one, unleashed various ranged weapons simultaneously.
"Boom!"
"Crack!"
"Whoosh!"
A barrage of projectiles brought the two giant spiders, who had just emerged from the sea of fire, to a screeching halt. Compared to their smaller counterparts, which barely reached their bellies, these two behemoths bore the brunt of the firepower.
Even worse off were the Savage Orcs and Forest Goblins on their backs. The palanquins, built from wood and stone, adorned with totem poles, and painted with roaring monstrous faces of the Savage Gods using primitive pigments, offered little protection.
Gromril looked at the wailing scene and suddenly thought of the tank cavalry of the Soviet Union from his previous life. Having archers on the backs of giant beasts would undoubtedly increase the beasts' killing efficiency, but this wasn't a game where modules couldn't be damaged no matter how much they were hit.
The giant spiders, over their long lives, had developed some intelligence. They could sense that the weapons in the hands of the Dwarves before them posed a greater threat than the sea of fire behind them. These two giant spiders wavered slightly; with their strength, where in this world couldn't they roam freely?
But things weren't as simple as the Dwarves thought. A creature covered in yellow-green stripes, one and a half times larger than the two giant spiders, appeared.
In height alone, it was comparable to a Bone Giant, but this thing moved on eight segmented legs. By volume, it was almost twice the size of the corrupted Leviathan seen earlier in Bordeleaux.
"Brood Queen!"
The word popped into the Dwarves' minds simultaneously. They had long been aware of its existence, so they didn't panic.
On the back of this Queen Spider was not a messy saddle but something like a shrine. Although crudely made, a spider's silhouette could still be discerned within it.
Gromril could feel an alien, unprecedented divine power emanating from this shrine. This power was a mix of divinity and wildness, relatively impure and less refined than anything he had encountered before.
In terms of quantity, Gromril's intuitive feeling was that it was comparable to the power of The Lady of the Lake and the power of Gork and Mork found on the directly chosen champions, The Fay Enchantress Morgiana and Urzag - Green Prophet, perhaps even slightly weaker.
However, this divine power was different from that bestowed by a higher being, which could be withdrawn at any time. This power originated entirely from within itself. Because its root was here, this power could continuously grow, not to mention that bestowed divine power could not be actively strengthened.
Calculated this way, the Queen Spider before him could already be called a demigod. Combining information from this life and his previous one, Gromril understood that two things were essential to achieve godhood in this world: divinity – the function a god represents; and sufficiently strong power.
A demigod was simply a strong individual who only met one of these two conditions. However, generally, a demigod is considered someone with sufficiently strong power but who has not yet condensed a divine essence. Grimbrindal, the White Dwarf, is an example.
His power was strong enough, but the scarce population of Dwarves had already had their pool of faith completely divided by his parents and elder brothers.
Father God, Mother Goddess, God of War, God of Death, God of Rune Smiths, God of engineers, Stone Shaper.
Their authority already covered most of the Dwarves' daily lives, and the remaining fragmented parts were not enough for Gromril - Whitebeard to condense his own divinity.
The Lord of the Undead Nagash was similar, but in the End Times, his power grew even greater, directly devouring the human God of Death, Morr, and the gods of Nehekhara, allowing him to acquire a larger, broader divinity.
The Queen Spider before him took a different path, first condensing the divinity of a Spider God. However, because its followers—the spiders—almost entirely lacked intelligence, their so-called faith was more a reverence for the strong, and thus its divine power never grew significantly.
Yes, it was still very powerful, but this power came more from its natural strength as a Brood Queen than from its supernatural power as a Spider God.
All of this only improved after the Greenskins in the Southlands discovered it. Although the Greenskins still had their chief gods—Gork and Mork—to worship, they were at least intelligent races and could provide it with more faith. The Greenskins' campaigns with its offspring also contributed to the spread of its faith.
A divine aura spread from the shrine, and the Dwarves noticed a strange change in all the spiders on the battlefield. Their compound eyes glowed red; they no longer seemed to fear death; their fangs also appeared longer and sharper.
"They, they are faster too!" the Dwarves exclaimed, some already darting or leaping over the front-line shield wall. The spiders were strengthened in every aspect; they were fighting for their god!
"Attack! What are you staring at?! Shoot at that shrine!" Gromril roared. This was the problem with Dwarves, or perhaps all intelligent races might face the same issue: they would freeze when encountering something beyond their comprehension.
Gromril's command was carried out. The clansmen recovered and fired, but the shrine was enveloped by a solidified divine power shield, and the projectiles only stirred up ripples.
Gromril, not believing it, added his remaining five skill points to Stormhammer, maxing out this most frequently used skill before unleashing it. The warhammer, empowered by both runes and skills, made the shrine's shield tremble, but that was all.
"Compatriots! The Ancestor Goddess protects us! Fight, kill these beasts! Reclaim the fortresses of the Golden Age!"
Gromril stood before the anvil, boosting morale. He knew that if the single-target skill Stormhammer was ineffective, there was no need to try Thunder Strike and the Rune of Fury and Destruction. If they couldn't destroy that shrine, what remained was a close-quarters deathmatch.
The spider swarm pushed forward against the dense firepower. They fell in droves, but more surged out from the burning spiderwebs. A smell of charring permeated the battlefield, but no one had time to feel nauseated.
Gromril, while striking runes to amplify his clansmen, sent out the knights. They, of course, also had good armor, but using it to hold the line would undoubtedly be a waste.
These men, riding warhorses, detoured along the ridge, carrying incendiary bottles to throw into the core areas that the flames had not previously covered.
The Ironbreakers on the front line were tough. Although the charge of the giant spiders and large spiders caused significant losses, they maintained the battle line with the help of Gromril's Rune of Negation and the Rune of Oath and Steel.
The ranged units continuously reaped the lives of the spiders, and the cannons occasionally knocked down a large spider or left a constantly oozing, foul-smelling hole in a giant spider.
These were all its descendants and sources of faith, after all. The Brood Queen slowly raised its forelegs.
The Queen Spider with the shrine on its back slammed its raised forelegs heavily on the ground. Under the effect of extraordinary power, a fan-shaped area of land with a radius of over ten meters in front of it was torn up, with the point of impact as the apex.
The frontline troops of the dwarves were either thrown into the air or knocked down in a heap by the shockwave. The Brood Queen, with two giant spiders and a group of large and small spiders, charged in.
During its brief wind-up, Gromril tried to activate the anvil of doom to gather the Winds of Magic to interfere with it. But unfortunately, this skill was activated by divine power and was not related to the Winds of Magic.
"In the name of Grimnir! Those who dare to stand before the Sons of the Mountains shall be crushed!" Seeing the front line breached, Gromril, ignoring the difficulty of the spider demigod, released the Winds of Magic that the Anvil had gathered along the way.
With the Winds of Magic attached, the ordinary weapons of his surrounding subordinates gained magical damage, which could also cause a certain amount of harm to large creatures.
At the same time, the clansmen and humans wielding two-handed weapons rushed towards the giant spiders that had broken through the defense line. To avoid multiple individuals being knocked down by a single blow, they did not form a dense formation but instead delayed in a skirmish line, buying time for the artillery to reload.
Gromril quickly activated several more runes, and seeing the Anvil enter a red-hot state, Gromril jumped down directly. He did not join the encirclement of the giant beasts but instead made a half-circle to reach the front line, which was struggling to reorganize.
As a commander with considerable experience, Gromril had learned to read the battlefield situation. He was not a lord with powerful individual combat strength like the Slayer King or the White Dwarf, at least not yet. Staying to fight the giant spiders was not a good choice.
Those two strongest among the dwarves cut down giant beasts like slicing melons and dicing vegetables by relying on their legendary quality two-handed battle axes, coupled with extremely rich combat experience to dodge the giant beasts' attacks, which had a large range but relatively low frequency. Even if they made a mistake and were hit once, their high-quality armor could give them more chances.
Gromril had none of these three things. His one-handed warhammer was not very effective against large units, and his body armor and combat experience were incomparable to those two. The most he had was the ability to heal himself with a ritual, but that was only a single opportunity.
Compared to that, encouraging the frontline troops to quickly reorganize and prevent more spiders and greenskins from rushing through was the real priority. Facing giant spiders and large spiders, having a shield and meteorite iron armor made little difference; their attacks' immense impact could injure internal organs even through armor.
But fighting against Savage Orcs and adult spiders was different. They might, with their madness and bloodlust, harm the less protected clansmen behind, but their fangs, stone spears, and stone axes were not enough to pierce through finely crafted heavy armor.
"Form ranks! The Ancestor Gods are with us!" Gromril roared. He and Henrid together helped up the fallen clansmen, contracted the defense line on both sides of the breach to reform the shield wall, and also attended to evacuating the seriously wounded.
"Die for me!" Gromril held up his shield with his left hand, blocking a lunging spider whose fangs were constantly twitching. With his right hand, his warhammer smashed down a screaming Savage Orc boy, then he stomped on its head.
"Hold on, my kinsmen! These poor, mushroom-eating savages are no match for us!"
"Bang!"
Another two-handed greatsword made of flint struck Gromril's shield, but he only swayed slightly. Upgrades had boosted all his attributes; Gromril had now changed from the standard dwarf thinness to strength.
"Trash! The ore I dig is much harder than you!" Gromril pushed upwards, deflecting the greatsword, then hammered the big guy's knee. The Savage Orc cried out in pain and knelt down, and Gromril then smashed its head.
"I refuse to believe these beasts can't be wiped out!"
Gromril roared, using his shield to knock away a spider that was pressing down on a clansmen. After delivering another hammer blow to the enemy in mid-air, he used his shield to block the splashing bodily fluids with one hand and pulled up the fallen clansmen with the other.
"Clang! Clang!"
Two Forest Goblins seized the opportunity to stab their long spears into Gromril's helmet and shoulder armor, but after two crisp sounds, they slid off. He swept his warhammer, breaking the long spears, then directly used the lower edge of his shield to smash their pointed heads.
"Hoo!"
Gromril took a breath and observed the battle. The dwarves had overcome their initial panic, and now the battlefield was divided into two areas by the front line where he was located.
Behind him were the Brood Queen and its screaming offspring, who were desperately trying to break through the second line of defense led by Rogov, hoping to attack the dwarf ranged units.
In front of him were the gradually burning forest and Spiderweb Mountain, from which greenskins and spiders continuously emerged from behind the sea of fire. Fighting on the front line, he vaguely felt that the number of enemies emerging from the sea of fire had decreased, which should be the credit of the arson squad.
Intelligent creatures, with the exception of a very few that could breathe fire, were all afraid of flames. Asking the greenskins to cross the sea of fire to fight for the spiders might be asking too much. As for the spiders, those with eight legs that moved slowly should have already been roasted.
"A fierce battle indeed!" Gromril spat. The burning trees and Spiderweb Mountain produced a lot of smoke and dust. He had been shouting commands with his mouth open, and now his throat was not feeling well.
"I am the one acknowledged by Grimbrindal!" Rogov's roar suddenly came from behind him. He plunged his two-handed heavy axe into the skull of a giant spider that had already been riddled with bullets, its compound eyes shattered, and poisonous blood flowed.
Another giant spider was also tottering under the siege of Andumgar, Anagonda, and others riding bears. The Brood Queen, seeing its offspring dwindling, and the divine power shield covering the shrine gradually thinning, finally became anxious.
The pressure on Gromril's defense line from the forest also began to decrease. The greenskins had all seen the giant spiders' decline and the dwarf defense line's resilience, and gradually began to slack off.
The Brood Queen trembled, conveying some signal to its offspring, and in an instant, they turned around and charged towards Gromril's position. The aura emanating from the shrine also seemed to shift its focus to speed amplification.
"These beasts are escaping!"
"Don't let that Queen Spider get away!"
Everyone shouted in unison. They had won half of this great battle, but the remaining half was equally crucial. If that spider demigod escaped, it wouldn't take long for it to breed another group of offspring and return.
At that time, the tables would turn; it would be in the shadows, and the dwarves in the open. With its combat power, it could wantonly kill small dwarf units, and large forces would find it difficult to trap. In that scenario, Spiderweb Mountain would never know peace.
"Follow me! Block it!" Gromril roared, and the Queen Spider seemed to cooperate with him by sticking its rear end up.
The Dwarves around Gromril, having learned their lesson, immediately broke their dense formation when they saw the Brood Queen acting strangely, preparing to act only after its skill was unleashed.
The imagined earth-shattering event didn't occur; instead, the Queen Spider let out a "Pfft!" and produced a large cluster of spider eggs, which rolled a couple of times to the front of the dwarf formation.
"Hahaha! This spider is so scared its legs went soft!"
"Did someone smash its butt so hard it can't clench anymore?"
"Who's that? Always aiming for the low blows!"
The Dwarves burst into laughter at the sight. Gromril also didn't understand. Could it be that this Queen Spider, knowing its doom was inevitable, wanted to leave behind an heir? He certainly wouldn't let this spider have its way.
Before the Dwarves could react, a power from the shrine augmented the spider eggs, which began to hatch almost in the blink of an eye. The resulting spiderlings then grew rapidly.
In an instant, a squad of adult spiders formed. They didn't need to charge or brave a hail of arrows; they appeared directly at the Dwarves' feet. Such an extraordinary event undoubtedly plunged Gromril's defense line into chaos once more.
"Close ranks!" Gromril shouted, slamming his warhammer into the ground, unleashing a Thunder Strike. The spiders were sent sprawling, and the Dwarves quickly reformed their shield wall.
"Watch out!"
"No!"
Gromril didn't stand up immediately after using his skill. He had fought one battle after another, and the continuous smoke, fire, and the cacophony of human shouts and spider hisses had left him somewhat fatigued.
He was still dazed when he heard his clansmen's shouts. As his blood rushed back to his brain, he looked up and saw an indescribable milky-white substance shooting straight at him.
"Splat!"
Gromril's muscles reacted faster; he raised his shield with his left hand, blocking the strange ranged attack.
"Cough!"
The impact of the blow made him grunt. Gromril wanted to take a step back to dissipate the force but was horrified to find himself unable to move!
Milky-white spider silk had glued him and his shield to the ground. Before Gromril could figure out how to break free, a fishy wind swept down from above.
Two massive chelicerae appeared above his head. The Brood Queen's lower jaw scooped down, directly engulfing Gromril, man and shield, into its mouth!
"I can't die here!"
Gromril roared, his subjective initiative erupting at the critical moment. Ever since he transmigrated, he had been toiling tirelessly, with the End Times hanging over him like the Sword of Damocles. As a transmigrator, he couldn't accept dying in a spider's mouth without having enjoyed the popular activities of his previous life.
Gromril strained with both hands, holding up his shield to brace against the constantly pressing, venom-dripping chelicerae. These two massive appendages were almost as large as Gromril himself.
At the same time, he pushed with his feet. Runes glowed on his legendary quality battle boots, preventing the Queen Spider from closing its jaws. Gromril was slightly surprised, finding that the Queen Spider's biting force wasn't as strong as he had imagined.
This was because spiders have small mouthparts and cannot ingest food by chewing or swallowing. So, after capturing prey, spiders first inject a digestive enzyme to break the prey down into a nutrient-rich soup, which they then suck up through their mouthparts.
However, the so-called weak biting force was only relative to similarly sized behemoths. Gromril's strength was vastly inferior to its, and within a few breaths, Gromril was struggling to hold on.
He certainly wasn't going to sit idly by. He poured Revival Points as if they were free into the option that increased his strength in the Grimnir ritual.
The Dwarves' mouths hung open. They saw a red light emanating from the Chosen of the Goddess, who was about to suffer misfortune, and with a burst of strength, he slowly pried open the Queen Spider's mouth.
"Ancestor Gods above!"
"Attack! Save him!"
The members of the expeditionary force finally didn't need Gromril's command. They swarmed the Queen Spider, assailing it with all hands. The Queen Spider, not to be outdone, lashed out with its eight legs while fiercely clenching its jaws.
"Sizzle!"
The tug-of-war gradually turned in his favor, but before Gromril could rejoice, he realized that the shield protecting him was being corroded by digestive fluid. Although this shield, crafted by a Rune Master from Breezehold, was a fine piece of craftsmanship, it still couldn't withstand the venom of a demigod giant spider.
"What should I do?" Gromril fell into a frantic thought. He dared not test the venom that could corrode a shield with his own flesh.
Suddenly, his gaze focused on the hand holding the shield. The iron chisel ring on his left middle finger gleamed in the Queen Spider's dark mouth. Since Stormhammer's level had gradually increased, he rarely used that master-level flying rune he had first obtained.
This rune could generate a large fireball, but compared to Stormhammer, it had no other advantage except for a longer range. The fireball, designed to cover both single targets and areas, wasn't concentrated enough, had a long wind-up, unsatisfying power, and couldn't lock onto targets, making its accuracy poor.
Against groups of enemies, its effect was not as good as the Rune of Fury and Destruction, which directly caused explosions from underground. Not to mention, it lacked the accompanying slowing and formation-disrupting effects and would be blocked by enemies in the front row.
Thus, this rune was gradually excluded from Gromril's commonly used skills, but he suddenly realized that the current situation was perfect for it.
"Hmph!"
Gromril tensed all his muscles, shifting his strength to his left hand to free his right, then lightly flicked his wrist to activate the throwing rune and recall his warhammer. He then held the hammer in his right hand, using its face to brace the shield before swapping his left hand.
These two hand changes gave his left hand more room to maneuver for aiming. Gromril struggled, twisting his body to slightly adjust his direction, and finally, with a gentle shake, a massive fireball appeared in the Queen Spider's mouth.
Feeling the sudden rise in temperature in its mouth, the Brood Queen also realized something was wrong. It tried to spit Gromril out, but the Dwarf King would not let it have its way! To eat when it pleased, to spit when it pleased—what did it take him for?
"Boom!"
The fireball shot deep into the Queen Spider's mouth and exploded there. A spider's body is divided into two parts, the cephalothorax and the abdomen, connected by a relatively slender waist. This internal explosion almost severed the Queen Spider's waist!
Gromril now felt like he was on a roller coaster, as the giant spider thrashed and rolled madly. In the dark confines of its mouth, he couldn't perceive what was happening outside. All he could do was try to stabilize himself and protect his unarmored head and face.
After two turns, his shield was flung somewhere unknown. Unable to defend himself, Gromril could only take the offensive. He couldn't aim, so he fired a Stormhammer blindly.
"Pfft!"
His warhammer seemed to have ruptured a venom sac, and a large amount of green venom shot directly towards his face!