The morning sunlight filtered through the wooden window, spilling onto the stone table in the boss' room and illuminating the unfolded letter.
Kurzadh sat in the beast-hide chair, his fingers gripping the edge of the letter, his gaze fixed on the densely packed handwriting. He frowned slightly, sinking into contemplation.
This was the seventh letter Antonio had sent from Katushir Hold.
Three months ago, Kurzadh had dispatched night hobgoblins riding Death Crawlers to escort Antonio to the main city of Katushir—the bustling metropolis built beside the river valley.
Antonio, carrying two full chests of jewels and gold coins provided by Kurzadh, used less than half a month, relying on the aristocratic etiquette honed at the Earl of Coventry's mansion and a sharp intuition far surpassing that of an ordinary merchant, to establish himself within Katushir's noble circles and found the "Golden Rose Merchant Guild."
Today, the Golden Rose Merchant Guild had become a moderately famous trade caravan in Katushir, primarily dealing in silk, spices, and ore, but secretly carrying the heavy responsibility of relaying intelligence for Blackrock Province.
Homing pigeons became the bridge for communication between the two places. Every three days, a gray pigeon wearing a copper leg ring would take flight from the Golden Rose Merchant Guild in Katushir, cross the Forest of Gloom, and first land at the Stonewatch mine shaft vent—where Scarface kept a dedicated watch.
Scarface would first open the letter, quickly scanning the content using the few large greenskin characters and pictures he recognized. If he found an urgent marker or something he didn't understand, he would use charcoal to draw a circle on the edge of the letter, then write his questions (mostly "When is the iron ore being shipped?" and "What's the situation around here?") on a small note, tie it to the pigeon's leg, and send it flying onward to Blackrock Spire.
When the pigeon arrived at Blackrock Spire, Kurzadh would personally open the letter, carefully read the intelligence Antonio had written, and then use charcoal to write his reply—sometimes asking Antonio to inquire about the iron ore distribution in Prince Patton's Fiefdom, and sometimes instructing him to monitor the military movements in Katushir Hold. After writing, he would fold the letter, tie it back to the pigeon's leg, and send it back along the original route.
This pigeon route was extremely reliable, having never failed in three months.
With it, Kurzadh was no longer the greenskin chieftain who could only wander aimlessly within the Forest of Gloom—he could know immediately about any disturbance in the border fiefdoms; he could even understand the major events in distant nations like the Empire and Bretonnia clearly through Antonio's letters.
Before, he was completely in the dark, not knowing who was behind the human caravans he attacked; now, he could stand from a higher vantage point, watching the shifting tides on the continent and calculating how Blackrock Province should leverage these changes for development.
This feeling gave Kurzadh a great sense of security.
His gaze returned to the letter. Antonio's handwriting was neat and elegant, bearing the distinctive penmanship of a noble youth, detailing several major events that had occurred in the northern Empire this year—events significant enough to change the entire Old World's structure.
"Early this year, Emperor Dieter IV of the Empire secretly accepted a large sum of gold from the Marienburg City Council," Kurzadh murmured, tapping his finger on the words "Marienburg."
He knew Marienburg was the Empire's most prosperous port city, wealthy from sea trade, and had long wanted to declare independence from the Empire but had never dared to take action.
Yet Dieter IV had actually taken the money and directly agreed to Marienburg's independence!
If this had happened before, Kurzadh would definitely have thought the emperor was crazy—giving up such a rich port just for a bit of gold? What was next? Sell his country for a horse?
But on second thought, Dieter IV was already known as a notorious weakling, so such an action wasn't surprising.
Antonio wrote in detail: The Marienburg City Council had given Dieter IV a full five hundred thousand gold coins and promised to pay the Empire "protection fees" annually, on the condition that the Empire recognized Marienburg as a "Free City-State" no longer subject to Imperial law.
Dieter IV was short on cash at the time—the Waaagh! launched by the greenskin Warlord Grumlok last year had turned the northern Empire upside down, severely depleting the national treasury. He gritted his teeth and agreed, even signing a secret treaty.
However, the matter didn't stay hidden for long before it was exposed by Elector Count Wilhelm III of Reikland.
Wilhelm III already disliked Dieter IV, so he immediately copied the secret treaty and distributed it throughout the territories of all the Empire's Elector Counts.
The entire Empire erupted—the Elector Counts condemned Dieter IV for "Betraying Imperial interests," the nobles felt ashamed, and even ordinary commoners cursed him as a "tyrant" on the streets.
"Five months later, Dieter IV was forced to abdicate by the Elector Counts." Kurzadh couldn't help but laugh when he read this—this emperor's reign was truly pathetic; he lost his throne before the gold he received was even warm.
Antonio joked in the letter that on the day Dieter IV stepped down, even the palace guards couldn't be bothered to salute him. He slunk out the back door of the palace in Nuln, not even managing to take all his luggage.
The throne fell into the hands of Wilhelm III.
Wilhelm III was much tougher than Dieter IV. Immediately after ascending the throne, he did two major things: First, he directly announced the annulment of the agreement signed between Dieter IV and Marienburg, stating that "Marienburg will forever be Imperial territory." However, Marienburg had already raised its own army based on its port advantage and completely ignored him, leaving the matter deadlocked to this day. Second, he moved the Imperial capital from Nuln to Altdorf, the capital of Reikland.
"That Dieter IV is truly an oddball," Kurzadh said, putting down the letter and leaning back in the beast-hide chair, recalling the details Antonio had written—when the greenskin Warlord Grumlok first attacked, Dieter IV was so scared that he fled Nuln overnight to Altdorf, hiding in Wilhelm III's castle and refusing to come out, earning him the Empire-wide mockery of "The Fleeing Emperor."
Now, he had stepped down, and Nuln's status as the capital had truly been replaced by Altdorf, effectively engraving the word "Shameful" into Imperial history.
Antonio analyzed in the letter that Wilhelm III's move of the capital was ostensibly because "Altdorf is more strategically defensible, making it easier to resist greenskin and Chaos invasions," but secretly, he intended to firmly grasp power—Reikland was Wilhelm III's base, and Altdorf's nobles and army were loyal to him. By moving here, his position as Emperor would be secure.
However, this only made the Empire more chaotic. The other Elector Counts were already reluctant to submit to Wilhelm III, and now that he moved the capital to his own territory, they felt he was "too self-serving." They all began hoarding food and troops, outwardly obeying but secretly harboring their own ambitions.
Antonio noted that currently, the Empire's Elector Counts, except for Reikland and Ostland, were relatively obedient. The other fiefdoms were practically turning into "independent kingdoms," and the Imperial tax revenue couldn't even be collected.
Kurzadh lightly tapped the stone table with his finger, calculating in his mind.
The chaos in the Empire was both good and bad news for Blackrock Province.
The good news was that the Empire had no energy to manage the border fiefdoms, allowing him to seize the opportunity to expand his influence and subdue more greenskin tribes. The bad news was that if the Empire fell into disarray, Chaos forces from the north might take the chance to move south, and those unruly Elector Counts might send troops to the border to seize resources.
"I must accelerate the iron ore mining speed at Stonewatch, and Skarsnik's mushroom field production must also be increased quickly," Kurzadh muttered internally. Only with enough weapons and food could he defend Blackrock Province, regardless of the external turmoil.
He picked up the charcoal pencil and wrote his reply on the back of the letter: "Continue monitoring the conflict between Marienburg and the Empire; inquire more about the movements of the Earl of Coventry's mansion in Prince Patton's Fiefdom; find a way to procure a few human smithing artisans from Katushir Hold." After writing, he folded the letter and walked to the window, whistling—a gray pigeon fluttered down from the roof and landed on his shoulder.
Kurzadh tied the letter to the pigeon's leg ring and gently stroked its feathers: "Send it back." The pigeon cooed twice, spread its wings, and flew into the sky, quickly becoming a small black dot that vanished in the direction of the Forest of Gloom.
Sunlight flooded the room. Kurzadh walked to the doorway and watched the busy greenskins in the distance—Orc Boyz were carrying iron ore from the direction of Stonewatch, hobgoblins were picking mushrooms in the mushroom field, and Skarsnik was squatting on the edge of the field, holding a yellow mushroom, pondering something unknown.
The shifting situation in the Empire was like a distant storm, slowly approaching the border.
But Kurzadh knew that as long as Blackrock Province's foundation was solid, with enough weapons, food , and fighting power, no matter how fierce the storm, he could lead the greenskins to carve out a territory of their own in this chaotic era.
He took a deep breath; the air was filled with the fresh scent of earth and mushrooms, along with the 'clink-clink' of hammering iron coming from the Blacksmith Shop in the distance.
Suddenly, he vaguely spotted another piece of intelligence.