Chapter 157: Pursuit Unsuccessful

Snorri Thorsson remained in the temple to watch the Humans organize the aftermath and gave them some necessary advice. For instance, after stripping the Stormvermin of anything valuable, all the rats' corpses should be burned to avoid the outbreak of a plague, and so on.

Several mounted messengers set off overnight to Altdorf to report the latest situation to William III, and the provincial regiment, under the command of their Captain, also cleared out the remaining Skaven in the city.

By the time the Internal Affairs Officer of Helmgart began to tally the losses in property and personnel from the night raid, and temporarily conscripted militia to participate in the city's defense to make up for the lack of manpower, Snorri left Balin behind as his plenipotentiary diplomatic representative and returned to the Dwarf settlement.

Looking at the faint morning light in the sky, Snorri let out a big yawn. It was another night of bitter fighting; thinking of the people who were alive yesterday afternoon but had become corpses laid out in the temple today, he couldn't help but feel a sense of melancholy.

The fallen were not buried immediately; according to custom, they should wait for a newly arrived temple priest to preside over the final rites for them, to ensure that the souls of these brave fighters could successfully travel to the Divine Kingdom of Sigmar instead of being desecrated by the Chaos gods.

Snorri considered that it was already winter and the temperature was relatively cold, so the corpses should not rot too quickly and spread plague, so he did not stop it.

Of course, he knew that Sigmar was currently trapped by Tzeentch in the Azyr, the Wind of Heaven among the Eight Winds, but there was no need to tell his Human friends about such things; Snorri did not want to have a Witch Hunter knocking on his door.

To Snorri's surprise, the Skaven did not attempt to attack again; it seemed that the Grey Seer needed time to recover. Altdorf's reaction was very fast, and by the morning of the third day, the new Lord of Helmgart had arrived.

This was within Snorri's expectations; after all, besides the capital, Reikland only had two or three important towns, so a fast reaction was perfectly normal.

However, Snorri also received news from Balin that the new Lord wished to invite him to a banquet in a "private" capacity, and to express his gratitude to him and the Dwarfs.

Snorri stroked the beard on his chest, his mind spinning rapidly. Although he was a transmigrator who knew the course of history, he was not sure if William III had the heart to claim the throne yet.

In the original history, what truly forced Dieter IV to abdicate and step down was his acceptance of bribes to grant autonomy to Marienburg.

"Tell that new Lord that I am willing to accept the invitation, but I must be the one to choose the location; let's have it right here in this tavern!" Snorri tapped the table.

On one hand, this was to ensure the privacy of the exchange; the new Lord had just arrived, and his control over this place was visibly insufficient. Relatively speaking, the Sons of the Mountains were undoubtedly more trustworthy.

On the other hand, it was also to ensure safety; the assassination by the Death Runners was still fresh in his memory. At the very least, the Dwarf settlement was not so easily infiltrated by Skaven. Many of the mountain strongholds where Empire Dwarfs originally lived had fallen into their hands, so it was impossible not to take precautions when building new settlements on the plains.

This was no longer a question of whether or not to wear armor while dining; the Weeping Blade—a weapon made from Warpstone and the unique forging techniques of the eastern Cathay—had extremely strong armor-piercing effects. Previously, Viscount Thompson had died an untimely death due to carelessness.

The Anvil Guard responsible for delivering the message received his orders and left, and Snorri once again feigned sleep. He had to find a way to solve the problem of Dwarfs having short legs and always being unable to catch fleeing enemies. He couldn't always rely on setting ambushes in advance or counting on his own Storm Hammer.

The newly arrived Sir Meng-ke was said to be a nobleman who started as a Witch Hunter. He had accumulated merit during his long years of fighting against Chaos cultists, and when he finally grew tired of it all, he exchanged it for a knighthood.

At this juncture, this former Witch Hunter was temporarily reactivated to deal with the Skaven threat. When Snorri heard the news about Sir Meng-ke, which was of unknown veracity and hovered between heroic epic and horror story, he was somewhat skeptical.

As night fell, the twin sister of the Evil Moon Moersilibu, Mannasilibu, hung high in the night sky. A fellow wearing a fur coat, a dirty wide-brimmed hat on his head, and a bulging waist—presumably carrying weapons—pushed open the door to the largest Dwarf tavern in Helmgart.

"I have a reservation, in the name of the Ancestor Goddess!" This Human had a distinct northern accent and did not seem to be a local from Reikland.

"Karaz-a-Karak, the stairs are over there!" The tavern owner reported the room number without changing his expression.

Dwarfs living outside the mountains liked to use landmarks from the mountains in the Dwarf language or other things as names for their surroundings; this embodied the Empire Dwarfs' longing for their homeland.

With a series of "thump-thump" sounds of leather boots hitting the floor, the strange Human walked up the stairs. Judging from the sound of his footsteps, one of his legs seemed to be disabled; although he tried to conceal it, it showed a slight dragging sensation.

"Bang!"

Snorri, who was deep in thought, was startled by the sound of the door being pushed open. He saw a tall, slightly hunched Human kick the door open, a loaded short-barreled Firearm in his hand pointing forward.

"Man-cub, you are being disrespectful to the High Prince!" Captain Gelunsen hoisted his Warhammer and walked in front of him. Although he was much shorter in height, this elder Dwarf Warrior did not lose a single bit in terms of momentum.

"Hmph, have the Dwarfs in the mountains reached the point where a Little Beard calls the shots now?" The newcomer seemed to have seen many big scenes; he was noncommittal to Captain Gelunsen's threat and looked at Snorri sitting in the main seat.

"Indeed, I am the chosen one of the Mother Goddess Valaya, a Rune Master of the Drazkrad Clan, the Storm Hammer Snorri Thorsson!" Snorri said in a deep voice. Generally speaking, the nickname Generous One was not suitable for him to report himself.

"Human, I must remind you, staying vigilant is a good thing, but if it is excessive, hmph, that will make you lose friends!"

"On the road to eradicating Chaos, I have never trusted anyone but myself!" The Human spoke very arrogantly.

"Then why did you come here?" Snorri smiled upon hearing this. This Human talked tough, but didn't he still come over obediently?

The Human was speechless. He curled his lips, pulled out a chair, and sat down opposite Snorri. "Fine, I have to admit, relatively speaking, you Dwarfs are still trustworthy!"

"Please!" Snorri pushed a cup of Bugman's Brew toward the Human.

"Gulp, gulp!" The Human was not polite either, drinking down more than half the cup in one go. "Hahaha, Dwarf beer is still the most potent! All that grape juice I drank in Altdorf, I drank it for ages and felt nothing but the urge to pee!"

"What is it you wish to see me for?" After three rounds of drinks, Snorri got to the point; he didn't have much time left here.

Thanks for the monthly ticket, you bald traitor.