Chapter 448: Stirring Up the Winds and Clouds

Gotrek received the order and departed. Over these years, Snorri Thorsson had already established a systematic mobilization and conscription mechanism, developing a set of systematic Dwarf-coordinated combat protocols that initially met the requirements for field warfare.

The Southlands had not seen large-scale military operations in recent years, but the pace of military system reform had never ceased. After the Dark Age, the Dwarf influence gradually contracted, with their main battlefields being mountains and underground. Their combat style was primarily defensive, for which they specialized in units like Iron-drakes and Ironbreakers, while also abandoning many unit types and war machines they had once possessed.

Snorri's goal was not merely to rely on strongholds for defense, waiting for the rats and Chaos to come knocking. Military construction should serve military objectives; therefore, the Southlands began reorganizing a new army equipped with field warfare and offensive capabilities.

They developed an air force to contest air superiority, improved and lightened the artillery originally fixed to fortress walls to facilitate towing, and practiced tactics by rotating through the southern Nehekhara and the tomb legions east of Coffin Canyon.

The blueprints for the skull-crushing machine obtained from the Chaos Dwarfs also provided him with assistance. The Steam Tank designed by the Tilean genius inventor Leonardo five hundred years ago was already outdated and had exposed numerous flaws in actual combat. Snorri believed in the power of an iron torrent and hoped that one day he would possess one.

The reforms were highly effective, and with a top-tier combatant like Gotrek leading the team, the small clans of Bofeng were routed almost at the first touch. If it weren't for Snorri's prior instructions to let loose and charge, they would likely have fought all the way to the gates of Nagashizzar.

"Livestock, idiots! For, for thousands of years, can they not even evolve, evolve a brain? Must they wait until the bearded things deliver, deliver it to their nostrils before they realize the danger?"

In a secret office deep beneath Eight Peaks, the leader of Clan Mors hammered the table in anger, his grey-white beard bobbing with his own huffing. Several rats stood by with their necks hunched, not daring to speak.

"That, that is a damn, damn Demigod! Demigod, understand? It is something that must be, must be filled with the lives of elites, hard-filled!"

Genuoduoer ground his teeth, his lingering anger unspent. Although the Skaven had a racial cap and could not produce Demigods themselves, if there were enough sacrificial offerings, the Grey Seers could summon a Decaying Lord under the Great Horned Rat to assist. As a Councilor of the Council of Thirteen, he knew the terror of transcendent power.

The requests for aid from Bofeng and the urgings from the Council of Thirteen were becoming increasingly frequent; the first wave of reinforcements from Clan Rictus had been repelled. And the messenger he sent to communicate with the Evil Moon Tribe had brought back bad news once again.

After Grom the Paunch went missing, Iblit was recognized as the strongest Goblin in the world, but he lacked Grom's ambition and could only see the small patch of land beneath his own belly.

The old rat hadn't even dared to think about joining forces to curb the Dwarfs' northward advance, yet the Goblin warlord wouldn't even give him a chance to personally dismantle the mines. The Skaven envoy exhausted every argument, his tongue tying in knots, but he could not persuade Iblit to agree to a temporary ceasefire.

"Sigh, perhaps, perhaps I must make a trip to the Holy City. You, take your, your main force, and head south to support. Be, be careful, if you wipe yourselves out, handle it yourselves!"

After making the decision, Genuoduoer looked as if he had aged several years. A sturdy black-furred rat stepped out of the ranks to accept the order. Whenever he looked at it, the Councilor couldn't help but sigh; this was the most outstanding up-and-comer of Clan Mors, but compared to the Queek Headtaker of yesteryear, it was a packhorse compared to a Qilin.

Genuoduoer still clearly remembered that afternoon in the breeding pits when he saw Queek. It was as if he were a gift from the Horned Rat to help him completely control the City of Pillars. Unfortunately, not only did Queek die at the hands of the bearded things, but the Warpstone Fragment Armor passed down since the founding of the clan was also lost.

What the old rat did not know was that the Evil Moon Tribe had, or rather theoretically would have in the future, a leader with a brain who understood strategy. However, that fellow who had his head smashed at Fearless Fort had no future.

"The rats from Tuobeishan have sent another legion south? With Kratch Doomclaw leading the team personally, could it be that some treasure was discovered in the former territory of that Necromancer Archmage?"

In the Black Fortress, the young Drazhoath listened to his subordinates' reports, lost in thought. Nagash, this powerful being who had fathomed the mysteries of death, although not yet ascended to godhood, had already cast many weaker gods into the Twilight. His self-reliant and unyielding spirit of struggle made him a role model for ambitious youths on the dark path.

Tuobeishan was a spur extending eastward from the World's Edge Mountains and was also the Skaven's largest stronghold in the Dark Lands. Clan Rictus enjoyed the entire city to itself and occupied a seat on the Council of Thirteen by virtue of its powerful strength. Although it was also suspended outside the Old World, Clan Rictus was relatively more respectful of the Grey Seers' leadership.

This was an ancient clan that had already begun to stand out nearly three thousand years ago. At that time, the center of the Skaven Empire was still the giant Warpstone vein beneath Nagashizzar. After realizing the reserves were dwindling, the rats decided to enter the Dark Lands to seek more resources, and Clan Rictus, with the support of the Council of Thirteen, undertook this task and occupied Tuobeishan.

Successive leaders of Rictus honored that old favor and were relatively active in responding to the Council's calls. Moreover, in recent years, the Chaos Dwarfs had first been turned upside down by the Greenskins and then fallen into civil war, so the external pressure on Tuobeishan had suddenly eased.

"Clomp! Moo!"

No sooner said than done, Drazhoath walked out of the tower, and a terrifying beast had already been led to the entrance. It looked like a giant Daemon cow with wings; its flesh burned like a living forge, its hooves trod flames, and its body was wreathed in smoke.

"Let's go, Ash-breath, let us go see the fun!"

The Demon Smith stepped with his short legs and, with the help of the Beast Tamer, sat on the saddle. With a tug of the reins, the magic cow soared into the air. An experienced Beast Tamer could tell from the horns that this Ash-breath was still in its youth; given time, it might become the strongest magic cow in the Dark Lands.

"Dark Father above, what kind of, what kind of strength is this? This is only a general under Snorri Thorsson, so what must the master himself be like?"

Observing the battlefield while hidden in the clouds on the magic cow, the two armies touched, and the Dwarf line tore open a gap instantly as if opened by an electric drill. No matter how the Skaven Warlord squeaked and screamed, he could not stop the front line from retreating.

After thousands of years of fighting, the Chaos Dwarfs knew how troublesome this branch of Skaven was. Warpstone Preparations were like drugs to those who relied on forced breakthroughs to gain spellcasting abilities. Clan Rictus had thus obtained many forging techniques, and the heavy-armored Stormvermin they produced were very hard to crack.

Recalling how Astragoth Ironhand in the north had miraculously lifted his petrification to unleash his magic at will, and had even brought in Ogre mercenaries to help him push the new Master of the Conclave into a steady retreat, a terrifying thought suddenly popped into the Ash-lord's head.