Chapter 477: Drazhoath the Ashen

"Who gave you permission to run wild at the Black Fortress? Adjust the elevation of the city defense cannons, prepare for a volley!"

"Clank! Clank!"

"I am Kazalan-Sindrazan, Inspector of the Tower of Zharr! I hold the warrant of Marshal Zhatan here; how dare a bunch of thieving soldiers act so presumptuously!"

Faced with the pitch-black cannon muzzles and the swaying Daemon souls behind them, the Chaos Dwarf rider was not yet affected, but the monster he sat upon grew timid first. The Lamassu is a variant of the Great Taurus, having gained higher intelligence and certain spellcasting abilities at the cost of physical prowess.

To complement their strengths, Chaos Dwarfs traditionally prefer the Great Taurus for Demon Smiths with spellcasting abilities, while powerful warriors tame the Lamassu to enhance their magical support.

"Hmph! If Zhatan the Black had arrived in person, I would show him some respect, but a lowly, nameless rat like you should just crawl down obediently!"

Delazhuosi-Huijin appeared on the balcony upon hearing this. Although young and yet to secure a seat in the Secret Society, he was naturally no pushover to have become the Legion Lord of the Azog Legion amidst brutal struggles.

"Ding!"

Seeing the Inspector on the back of the Lamassu still putting on airs, he struck the city parapet with the intricately carved scepter in his hand, and a cloud of fire containing powerful energy condensed in mid-air.

This iron scepter is a symbol of status and nobility, engraved with the Rune names of all the previous masters of the Black Fortress and their vicious prayers to Hashut; it is considered a formidable item even throughout the Dark Lands.

The position of "Inspector," similar to that of a patrolling censor, thus emerged. Outlying strongholds only have mid-level Legion Lords responsible for daily operations, while Inspector Lords hunt on behalf of Secret Society members, only dispatching lower-level personnel from the Tower of Zharr to preside over the situation when encountering ordinary circumstances.

A terrifying roar erupted from the fire cloud above, and upon seeing the real master, the Inspector grumbled and landed below the balcony.

Ghorth had no shortage of reasons to raise arms again, but his subordinates were not even sure if they should hope for victory or defeat. If they defected now, Drazhoath had reason to suspect his "High Commissioner" would become a high-level thug in the near future.

Inside the office, Huijin cursed at a warrior standing before him, whose muscles were almost overflowing from his armor, his face welded behind an evil iron mask. This person and the "Undying Legion" he commanded were famous outside the Old World, and it was precisely by securing his support that Huijin was able to take control of the Baise Yaosai.

Located at the southernmost tip of the Bone Plain, the Baise Yaosai is a place of exile; those who live there have either committed major mistakes or lost out in the political struggles of Zharr-Naggrund. They constantly yearn to return to the center of the Chaos Dwarf race.

"A superfluous act."

"Drazhoath, hear the order! The Marshal is magnanimous and, considering you a pillar of our race, cannot bear to see you waste your years in the borderlands. You are hereby summoned back to the Holy City. You are appointed to the position of 'High Commissioner' to preside over major projects. The warrant is here! Depart this day!"

"Heh, going there is like a bull entering a pen; there will be no more freedom!"

"The Marshal's warrant is here!"

Seeing the bull-head emblem held in the other hand of the visitor, Drazhoath muttered loudly. Who doesn't know that Zhatan the Black is the spokesperson for Ghorth, but that new head of the Secret Society insists on performing a play of stamping his own seal.

Hashut lacks the ability to improve the fertility of the Chaos Dwarfs, and our population base is much smaller than that of the Dwarfs; this, coupled with the harsh ecological environment of the Dark Lands, has given rise to unique methods of development.

"Can we speak now?"

"Heh heh! I represent the Secret Society; you should gather your generals to receive the decree!"

Building a giant Drill and imbuing it with enough Divinity to pierce the barriers of the God Realm is undoubtedly a daunting project. Even if it succeeds in the end, how many drops of God Blood can be obtained, and will there be a share for me?

Moreover, the predicament Ghorth faces is no secret among the Chaos Dwarf upper echelons—after suffering setbacks under his subordinates, he personally led troops to conquer Ironhand, but not only did he fail to achieve his strategic goals, he even ended up at a disadvantage.

"Understood, put it on the ground and then get lost quickly!"

"Allow me to refuse. I am very content staying at the Baise Yaosai. Zharr-Naggrund, hmph, I will go eventually, but not now!"

The petrification that was beyond cure miraculously recovered, the brave Ogre mercenaries who suddenly joined his ranks, the grain and ordnance that appeared from nowhere in the frozen wasteland—these all told the big shots of the Tower of Zharr that a pair of hands from outside the Dark Lands were manipulating all of this.

"Ghorth is taking his frustration out on me because he hit a wall with Ironhand! True enough, that traitor nicknamed Tiepi has crushed many old stones; counting them up, it should be my turn."

Before the Inspector finished speaking, the hall was filled with discussion. Drazhoath's face was a mix of many flavors; feeling the ambiguous gazes of his subordinates, he knew he needed to make a decision immediately.

"Oh?"

The Ash Lord extracted a few key words. Chaos Dwarfs do not know much about what lies outside their territory. But the Eight Peaks are close enough, and the heroic stories of the Dwarfs are wonderful dinner conversation for us; he understood what this meant.

"Don't think about slacking off; the Secret Society will track the progress in real-time."

Sandstorms that frequently blot out the sky, behemoths eroded by Chaos and prone to bloodthirsty violence, and oppressed Greenskin laborers who might rebel at any moment all threaten the lives of the Chaos Dwarfs in the stronghold.

Watching Drazhoath's face turn livid, no longer the defiant look from their first meeting, the Inspector stood up, satisfied, and didn't forget to leave behind a harsh threat.

The Inspector's expression changed fleetingly, hidden by his beard and dark face. The young Demon Smith before him being able to refuse such a high position so decisively made him think higher of him, but Ghorth, who had toppled Ironhand, would not just throw straight punches.

"The Eight Peaks? Assist the rats? Counterattack? How is that possible! Snorri, that Demigod! It must be him who made a move, right? Ghorth has lost his mind, hasn't he? How many cannons and how many guns do I even have?"

"Poor mountains and treacherous waters breed unruly people."

"High Commissioner? That's the third level of the industrial division!"

"Below the Secret Society, above ten thousand people!"

"This, this..."

"Heh! Since you think this place is better than Zharr-Naggrund, you clearly have grown wings and can take on this great responsibility. A reminder: among the false gods, the mother one has appeared at the Eight Peaks. Take her down, and even if the major project isn't fully filled, you'll have more than half!"

"Since that is the case, there is one more order. The rats of the Eight Peaks have been driven away by the believers of the false gods from the other side of the mountain. The Secret Society and the Tuobeishan have reached an agreement: you are to lead your main force and the bulls to assist them in a counterattack."

After the dull sound of the horn, the leaders of the Baise Yaosai gathered in a hall filled with the scent of Daemons and machine oil. They stared at the Inspector and the two things in his hands, not hiding the complex emotions of hatred and desire mixed in their eyes.

Zharr-Naggrund is the only major city in the entire kingdom, concentrating all resources. Other places only have small mines, factories, and outposts, and the elites born among them all hope to move into the capital—