Chapter 145: Skaven Ambush

As the runes were triggered, the underground explosions and erupting flames shook the tight battle line that the Skaven Warlord had managed to maintain with such difficulty.

Those sturdy, black-furred giant rats were sent reeling, and the Dwarfs under Sinuoli's command seized this opportunity to cut them off, surround them, and slaughter them.

Having lost the extra courage brought by "strength in numbers," their resistance began to appear feeble.

"Leave one alive!" Sinuoli shouted, feeling a bit anxious as he watched his subordinates, who held a deep grudge against the Skaven, becoming more and more vigorous with every strike.

"You got it!"

Very quickly, two Stormvermin were brought before Sinuoli; one had its legs smashed by a Warhammer, while the other had an arm hacked off and was held down by two Battle Axes crossed over its neck.

"Confess honestly, which Clan do you belong to? And what is your boss's background? Tell me clearly and I'll grant you a quick death!" Sinuoli began the interrogation on the spot.

"The Great Horned Rat walks among us! Wait, wait until the Rat God descends upon the Mortal World, beard, beard-things will all die, die!" Before Sinuoli could finish speaking, the rat with the smashed legs began to shriek.

"Hah! You little rat are quite tough! Qiangsen, give it a taste of something!" Sinuoli mimicked the Skaven's tone as he ordered his Captain of the Anvil Guard.

Under the fearful gaze of the two Stormvermin, a malicious smile appeared beneath Qiangsen-Jian Dun's dusty beard. He fished a small bottle out from his armor and took a sniff under his nose.

"Hehe! Master, I have nine ways to make it talk, nine!" Qiangsen muttered as he approached the rat.

"Come here little one, this is good stuff from the southwest of the Cathay Empire, bright red, I cut it up, boiled it in Dwarf spirits, and finally cooled it down to fish out the dregs!"

Qiangsen-Jian Dun rambled on; in many situations, psychological pressure during an interrogation can be more effective than physical torture.

"This thing, hey, we call it Chili Wine; one gulp and even in the ice storms of Karak-Flag at the northernmost edge of the World's Edge Mountains, you'd feel like your chest was about to spew fire."

Sinuoli knew that was Desolate Keep, the northernmost fortress of the Mountain Kingdom; that place was close to the Chaos Wastes and served as a bridgehead for resisting the southward advance of Chaos. During the Great Holy War, it had once fallen into the hands of the previous Everchosen, the barbarian Anointed, Asavar Kul.

However, after the late King Aurek and Magnus the Pious crushed the Chaos invasion, it was rebuilt once again with the help of the Slayer King, Grimm Ironfist.

"It can even be used externally to treat arthritis and rheumatism. Ever since we restored contact with our kin in Dulongcheng, it has become my Clan's flagship product!" Qiangsen clearly enjoyed the feeling of being the center of attention; he even began promoting his own product.

"Come on, once you go to your evil god's blasphemous domain, don't forget to share this unforgettable experience with your kind!" The rat was already terrified by the bottle held in front of it, but Sinuoli and all the Dwarfs had no intention of giving it a chance to plead for mercy; usually, only blood-stained intelligence was trustworthy.

"Good man!" Sinuoli praised him silently in his heart as he saw Qiangsen pour the secret-recipe Chili Wine directly into the Skaven's nostrils; he had initially thought pouring it into its mouth would be enough. It seemed this Anvil Captain had no intention of getting information from this particular rat at all.

Just as Sinuoli expected, in an instant, this sturdy, black-furred rat that had been so tough began to spasm and convulse; it tried to struggle to escape, but clearly, its smashed legs did not allow it to do so.

As the escape turned into a painful rolling, the rat bled from its seven orifices, unable to speak complete words, only emitting vague wails of "Squeak!" and "Awooo!"

The Chili Wine had such a good effect partly because Skaven live underground for long periods; their vision has degenerated in the dark environment, and their highly developed sense of smell has partially replaced the role of sight.

Their noses are densely packed with blood vessels and nerves, so they are very afraid of external stimulation. The scents of incense, mint, and the like would make them feel uncomfortable, let alone having Chili Wine poured directly in.

The powerful potency of Dwarf spirits was also a factor; this stuff has such a high alcohol content that it can be lit directly as fuel. Dropping it into the enemy's water supply to make them drunk and unable to perform at full combat capacity is also one of the signature tactics of the Dwarf Rangers.

Such violent stimulation was simply too much for the Skaven; a minute or two later, the Stormvermin perhaps choked to death in agony.

"Beard-thing, no, Beard-Master, Master! I'll tell you everything!" Witnessing the miserable state of its kin completely destroyed the other Stormvermin's mental state; as soon as Sinuoli looked toward it, it began to cry out before he even spoke.

"We are, uh, strictly speaking not any Clan, Clan. We take orders from the Grey Seer Kodelu-Ruizhua! It received orders from the Grey Claw High Priest and hired and integrated a team!" The Skaven reported the lord's information cleanly and efficiently.

"Grey Seer?" Sinuoli muttered to himself, and those grey-furred, horned Skaven spellcasters appeared in his mind.

"What school is it? Ruin or Plague?" Sinuoli asked his second question; this involved whether he needed to prepare antidotes and gas masks.

"No, don't know! Please, don't pour that on me!" The Stormvermin, unable to give Sinuoli a satisfactory answer, struggled to kneel on the ground and kowtowed with its only remaining arm.

"What other troops did it hire?" Sinuoli stroked his beard, and looking at the rat's somewhat extreme reaction, he suddenly felt like he was a bit of a villain.

"I know of the Moulder Clan and the Eshin Clan, and, and us, a wandering Warlord Clan." The Skaven spilled everything it knew like beans from a bamboo tube.

After asking a few more questions and squeezing out all its value, Sinuoli made a simple gesture, and the Anvil Guard behind him cleanly and efficiently chopped off the fellow's rat head with a meteorite iron Battle Axe.

Sinuoli had no intention of cultivating Skaven forces; these filthy rats had no loyalty to speak of. Even toward the strongest of the Chaos lesser gods—the Great Horned Rat—they were guys who lacked true loyalty; Sinuoli didn't think he could conquer them with his own kingly charisma.

"Grey Seer, these guys are really rich!" Sinuoli muttered to himself; of the four Great Clans of the Skaven, two were present, excluding the Pestilens Clan which didn't get along with the Grey Seers.

Although the enemy might be powerful, Sinuoli still decided to fight them. On one hand, he had a grasp of the flow of history and knew this batch of rats wouldn't amount to much; on the other hand, he had reasons he had to fight.

Thanks to the book friend, I am not Kai, for the electronic fat sheep monthly ticket.