Chapter 307: Pointing the Way Out of the Maze

"It has been years, Master, your bearing is even more impressive than before!" Belegar Ironhammer looked at Sinuoli, searching his memory for the "Little Beard" he once knew. These years of campaigning and wielding Authority had brought great changes to Sinuoli's temperament.

"Indeed, you have grown quite a bit as well. I heard about what happened to Domuga, my condolences." Sinuoli handed over a cup of ale, recalling the warm recruitment Prince Domuga had once extended to him.

"I have come to seek you out again regarding the matter of Eight Peaks." Belegar did not stand on ceremony. "Tell me, can I, can I succeed?"

"You can! The lost fortress will eventually be reclaimed, and the entries in the Book of Grudges will be struck out; this is the revelation of the Ancestor Gods!" Looking into Belegar's eyes, Sinuoli responded with resounding conviction.

"But I must say, if you continue to persist with your current approach, I fear success will be delayed until the day our entire race gives up drinking." Sinuoli shifted his tone.

"Hey!" Belegar exclaimed. "Then what do you mean?"

"You know better than anyone how large and difficult the Eight Peaks Fortress is to assault. A force of a thousand men pushing in would struggle just to hold the crossroads. Countless failures have already proven this. You need to build up your strength." Sinuoli offered his advice sincerely.

"I know." Belegar sighed.

"You know?" Sinuoli asked in return.

"The Angrund Clan has bled dry, but there has been some gain." Belegar took a hard drink of ale.

"But it is very difficult to put into practice. Don't look at the many men gathered around me now; if I do not march on Eight Peaks, they might disperse even faster."

Sinuoli narrowed his eyes, realizing his previous thoughts had been somewhat naive. Indeed, as the last bloodline of the Angrund Clan, Belegar had raised a decent enough force, but apart from a very few clansmen, the other participants all had their own pursuits.

Some wanted to share in the wealth of the once most prosperous citadel; some wanted to participate in a great expedition to gain fame; others hoped to strike out the lingering grudges of their ancestors; and of course, there was the heartfelt wish of clans displaced in foreign lands to return home.

"May I understand it as you being held hostage by the demands of your subordinates to launch one assault after another on Eight Peaks?" Sinuoli asked.

"If I do not go to reclaim Eight Peaks but instead find a place to recuperate, what difference would it make for those warriors to follow me compared to staying in their original fortresses or settlements?"

Belegar shrugged; he was too young and lacked sufficient experience to handle these issues. Sinuoli associated this with the negative faction effect of Belegar in the game—a fifty percent increase in unit upkeep until Eight Peaks is reclaimed; it seemed this rightful lord of Eight Peaks was relying on raising wages to cope.

"I think I understand. So, have you found a suitable place? Thunder Mountain is not a very good place to settle." Sinuoli nodded and refilled Belegar's cup.

"I must rely on you and the Ancestor Gods for guidance!" Belegar sat back down, looking at Sinuoli earnestly.

"Very well, I shall petition them now."

"Then, do I need to withdraw?"

"Not at all." Sinuoli stood up, taking this opportunity to let Belegar witness his abilities as well.

After performing two simple gestures, he activated the Grimnir rite; Belegar Ironhammer felt his strength surge so suddenly that he choked on his ale.

He had not expected the relationship between the Ancestor Chosen and the gods to have reached such a point that divine grace manifested directly without the need for offerings or prayers.

To avoid offending Sinuoli, who was communicating with the gods, Belegar tried hard to suppress his cough, turning red in the face. Sinuoli glanced up and took it all in, calculating in his mind where to suggest Belegar go. "Got it!"

"Cough, cough! Belegar of the Angrund Clan!" Sinuoli raised his voice.

"Here, here!" Belegar rolled off his chair onto the floor.

"Listen well! They support your reclamation of your ancestral lands, but believe you should accumulate strength before making further plans! The mountains between Tiefengbao and Red Cloud Mountain are rich in resources; you should find a lost Shanbao there to settle in, and King Kazador and I will support you."

Sinuoli's mind turned, applying the content he had just discussed with Thorek Ironbrow on the spot. Belegar wielded the Hammer of the Angrund Clan and the Shield of Resistance, and with the protection of the Ancestor spirits, his strength was commendable among Dwarf lords; he was more than capable of serving as a vanguard.

"Good! In the name of King Luen, I shall follow the guidance of the oracle." Belegar prostrated himself in promise; Sinuoli's few short sentences solidified his belief in a long-term struggle and pointed out the direction for his current stage of effort.

"Hmm, I will spread the oracle I just received. Do not let the Ancestor Gods down!" Sinuoli smiled. With the endorsement of the gods, Belegar temporarily changing his target should not bring too much loss; this was a win-win choice.

A few days later, Sinuoli called Ironbrow and Belegar together, and looking at the signed and sealed agreement, Sinuoli suddenly felt a strange sense of accomplishment. In the game of his past life, all the legendary Dwarf lords except the White Dwarf were now gathered at Everpeak; was this not a grand spectacle?

"Urgent report!"

Just as Sinuoli was still lingering in the prosperity of Everpeak, Rogov pulled him out of the banquet hall.

"What, what is going on?"

"Pirates, our fleet has been raided!"

"Goblin-spawned!" Sinuoli cursed, instantly sobering up. "Pass the word down, prepare to assemble!" The land route was still only on paper, and the sea route remained the lifeline of the Southlands; it could not afford any mistakes.

"The latest intelligence! It was the fleet from Bordeleaux transporting immigrants; according to the last message sent out by Priest Mannan'en, those who attacked them were an indescribable creation."

Sinuoli's troops marched quickly out of Everpeak, and on the road to Haimenguan, a messenger reported.

"The telegram is unclear, there are no survivors, but according to reliable intelligence, what those poor souls saw last was a base formed by a large amount of rotting shipwrecks, and upon it was a castle complete with its foundation and cliff."

"The Xuese Lueduozhe Hao? Count Noctilus, I have noted this debt; the scoundrel who desecrates the dead should be wiped from the world."

After reading the letter, Sinuoli slowly tore it to pieces. He sat on his Snuo, thinking of countermeasures. This time, unlike the city of Bordeleaux, he was the attacker, but solving the Undead who did not fear drowning at sea required careful planning.

"Perhaps, I could do this?" Suddenly, a brilliant idea appeared.

－－－－－－Author's Note－－－－－－

Thanks to the book friends for the monthly tickets. After a week's break, all the familiar names are still here; I'm touched, hahaha.