Late at night in the village chief's wooden hut, the campfire gradually faded, leaving only the moonlight reflecting on Kurzadh's face.
He leaned on a wooden bed covered with a wool blanket, clutching a crude animal hide map—this was drawn with charcoal by a hobgoblin scout, marking the terrain around the Forest of Gloom, but his thoughts had already flown out of the Blackrock Clan, drifting towards the wider Warhammer world.
Kurzadh had some understanding of this world before he transmigrated, but only after experiencing it firsthand did he discover that the map of the Warhammer world was eighty to ninety percent similar to his previous world.
Take Katushir Hold, near where the Blackrock Clan is located, for example; this land is a pivotal area between Eurasia, much like the Middle East of his previous life—the climate is dry, the terrain is complex, with forests and grasslands, as well as desert and mountains. More importantly, at least in this universe, it is famously a "Land of Chaos," where humans, greenskins , skaven, and even occasional Chaos cultists vie for territory, with constant warfare, making it a truly strategic location.
He closed his eyes, and a grander continental layout appeared in his mind:
To the east were the towering World's Edge Mountains, which acted as a massive barrier separating Katushir Hold from the Eastern Continent.
The land east of the mountains was far more dangerous than the west—in the Dark Lands, Chaos dwarves built steel fortresses at the foot of volcanoes, enslaving countless slaves to mine ore and forge war machines imbued with destructive power.
In the Mountains of Mourn, Ogres formed nomadic tribes, living by plunder; their great axes could easily cleave through human armor, and they could swallow an entire sheep in one bite. Further east were the vast Eastern Steppes, where nomadic peoples rode warhorses with extreme mobility, often raiding southwards. At the end of the steppes lay the mysterious Grand Cathay and Nippon Kingdom—Grand Cathay had a long history and a powerful army, skilled in using gunpowder and intricate tactics.
The Nippon Kingdom, on the other hand, revered Bushido, with Ninjas and Samurai as their distinctive fighting forces.
These Eastern powers, collectively known as the "Eastern Continent," corresponded to Asia in his previous life, each possessing strength that could not be underestimated.
The scene to the south was completely different.
Beyond the southern border of Katushir Hold lay vast swamps, deserts, and rainforests.
The swamps were filled with poisonous miasma and fierce beasts, which even greenskins were reluctant to enter. In the desert, the ancient Egyptian-style Nehekharan kingdoms slept beneath the sands, and Tomb Kings led Undead legions, guarding millennia-old treasures. If anyone disturbed their eternal slumber, a bloody revenge would be unleashed.
The environment and powers of this land were strikingly similar to Africa in his previous life, full of mystery and danger.
To the west was the core of the Warhammer world—the Old World, like Europe in his previous life, composed of multiple human nations with diverse customs and varying strengths.
Kislev in the north was perennially covered in ice and snow; its people were fierce and skilled in cold weather combat, their Winged Lancers being renowned elites of the Old World.
Further south was Bretonnia, known as the "Knight Kingdom," where nobles revered chivalry and trained heavily armored cavalry with immense Impact power, their charges on the battlefield like a torrent of steel.
Even further south, coastal Estalia and Tilea were typical city-states, with both cooperation and conflict between them; their navy and Musketeers were formidable, and together with the Border Princes, they were known as the "Three Southern Kingdoms," jointly resisting threats from the southern desert and greenskin tribes.
Among the many nations of the Old World, the largest and strongest was undoubtedly the Empire, founded by "God-King" Sigmar.
The Empire possessed vast territories and a massive army, with numerous cities, and its technology and magic levels were at the pinnacle of the Old World.
For over two millennia, the Empire had endured countless Chaos invasions and attacks by other races; its towns were frequently destroyed by war, yet it always rebuilt grander cities from the ruins, like an unyielding giant, always standing at the center of the Old World.
The Empire's soldiers were well-equipped; Musketeers, Halberdiers, Steam Tanks, and even powerful Priests of Sigmar, together formed a solid defense line against Chaos.
Besides human forces, many powerful races also existed in this world: lizardmen lived in seclusion deep within the southern rainforests, ancient guardians of order, controlling magic and powerful dinosaur legions.
Vampire Counts operated in the shadows of the Old World, leading Vampire and Skeleton legions, attempting to establish Undead rule; Pirates rampaged along coastal areas, plundering passing ships, accumulating vast wealth and weapons.
Dark elves were entrenched in the Dark elf kingdoms to the north, skilled in dark magic and poisoned weapons, with cruel and bloodthirsty natures; Wood elves lived in ancient forests, guarding the balance of nature, their archers were incredibly precise, able to hit an enemy's eye from a hundred meters away, but their extreme green ideology was chilling.
These racial forces intertwined, making the entire Warhammer world full of conflict and unpredictability.
Kurzadh took a deep breath, his eyes growing serious.
He knew very well that if he were just an ordinary greenskin, he might only be able to expand his influence by burning, killing, and plundering, competing for territory with other greenskin tribes, eventually either being annihilated by a stronger force or becoming cannon fodder in some Chaos invasion.
But he was no ordinary greenskin; he was a human with memories from his previous life and a system, and he was unwilling to be confined to such primitive methods of expansion.
More importantly, he knew time was of the essence.
The ultimate threat to the Warhammer world—Chaos—was like a sword hanging over everyone's head, bound to unleash a continent-wide invasion sooner or later.
By then, whether human, greenskin, or other races, all would face the fate of being crushed by Chaos.
Although greenskins were born for war and possessed formidable fighting power, their scattered tribes were utterly incapable of resisting a united Chaos Army.
His ultimate goal was not simply to expand territory, but to resist the Chaos invasion and change the greenskins' fate of being crushed.
"I must find a faster way to expand my influence," Kurzadh muttered to himself.
Developing the Blackrock Clan alone was too slow and couldn't keep pace with the Chaos invasion.
He needed to unite more greenskin tribes, to integrate the dispersed greenskin power—greenskins naturally worshipped strength; as long as he could demonstrate sufficient power and defeat the greenskin Chieftains who defied him, he could bring their tribes under his command, forming a massive greenskin Army.
At the same time, he also needed to learn the technologies of other factions.
While the greenskins' tech tree was unique, it relied too heavily on "Gork and Mork's inspiration," making it unstable and unsystematic. The Empire's steam technology, the dwarves' forging craftsmanship, and even the skaven's engineering all had valuable lessons to offer.
If he could combine these technologies with the greenskins' advantages to create a powerful, complementary force of "technology + brute strength," then in a future Chaos invasion, he would have enough confidence to contend with it.
"I refuse to believe I can't defeat Chaos!" Kurzadh clenched his fist, a fierce glint in his eyes.
Greenskins were a race born for war, with belligerent blood flowing in their veins. With proper command and effective integration, they might just be able to hold their own against the Chaos Army. His system, his intelligence, and the hobgoblins and orcs under his command were all his capital against Chaos.
Just as he lay in bed, pondering how to unite greenskin tribes, learn technologies from other factions, and plan the future development of the Blackrock Clan, suddenly, an urgent shout came from the doorway: "Boss! boss! Are you awake? Urgent matter for you!"
Kurzadh abruptly opened his eyes and sat up in bed. It was the hobgoblin scout's voice, and from his tone, it seemed a genuinely urgent situation had arisen.
He frowned, got up, walked to the door, and pulled open the wooden door—in the moonlight, the hobgoblin scout was sweating profusely from running, clutching a crumpled note, his face full of panic.
"What happened? Speak slowly," Kurzadh asked in a deep voice, a faint unease stirring within him.