"Karak Ungol is not easy to fight."
Snorri stroked his beard and muttered. In his opinion, the difficulty there was not much different from that of Bafeng Mountain, but the difficulty was different. One was tactical and the other was strategic.
"Since the ancestor gods have revived, and you and Belegar have made great achievements in the Southland, I personally think that now is a good opportunity to settle the hatred."
Agrim's attitude was very low and he carefully planned his words. Snorri made his fortune by relying on the banner of the ancestors' co-election. He could not dismantle himself and could only nod silently.
"How does Zhaoming plan to restart the Longtooth Road? Will he personally lead the troops to clear the thorns along the way?"
"Probably not. He supported the new tyrant named Gresu of the ogre Golden Tooth Tribe."
"Do you remember that ogre, the one who drove you?"
Agrim took a problem-solving attitude and started talking about restarting the road of tusks. He knew that if he wanted to fulfill his wish, he would first have to satisfy the main goal of Snorri's special trip.
"Which one? Oh, Iron-headed Ahetanmu, you told me about the Hatred Conference. How is it doing now?"
"Oh, it has really done something good with your reputation. It has gathered the remaining defeated soldiers of the original tribe, and then absorbed and integrated the small tribes who came from the west to make a living and some of Kislev's original mercenaries. Naobula Regardless, it only has five hundred fat-bellied men under its command."
"Five hundred ogres? That's really a lot."
Snorri raised his eyebrows. Ogres are monster infantry, and they have not bad intelligence and the ability to use equipment. A dozen of them are enough to serve as a mercenary team. If the number of five hundred is worthy of a battle, Beasts and miscellaneous soldiers are enough to bring disaster to small and medium-sized towns.
"Indeed, it has gained quite a reputation in the Ostermark Territory and the southern states below the mountain, and has also gained some resounding nicknames. Cathay uses ogres as agents. Maybe you can do the same, Karak - Kaderin is willing to provide them with the necessary support."
"It's somewhat feasible. Where is it now? I'll go take a look and investigate."
"Hahaha! That fat guy won't let you down. His mercenary group is famous in the Northern World Edge Mountains!"
Agrim's suggestion is indeed reasonable. As the ultimate creation of the Old Saint, ogres have strong war potential, especially when combined with the forging technology of the dwarves. It can be said that as long as Snorri wants to, he can turn Ahetanmu's subordinates into elite iron stomachs.
After getting the address, Snorri stood up and said goodbye, leading the guards straight to the outskirts of the fortress. After passing through the corridors, he came to a strange foyer - standard dwarf style, but much enlarged in size.
"You're right? This sculpture seems to be the Mother Goddess and me."
While muttering as they walked inside, several groups of naughty bulls in the hall were cooking around pots much larger than themselves, cooking bubbling meat. A tall ogre supervised them.
"Hey! This guy is the Wind Chaser mercenary group! Who are you, and who are you looking for?"
This ogre's strong body was covered in blood. He was not wearing a plastron but a loose leather apron, which was covered with knives of different functions, large and small. The unique attire tells everyone that it is a butcher - a priest of the stomach god. They believe that their god can protect the fragile belly.
"I am the King of the South, Snorri the Stormhammer. Call Ahetanmu to come out to me."
"What? I, I'm going to report it right now!"
It was rare for Snorri not to report to his ancestors first. The butcher was stunned when he heard this. After realizing the extraordinaryness of these dwarves, he abandoned the flesh and blood on the chopping board and trotted towards the back hall dragging his left leg with a prosthetic leg.
"Wow haha! Could it be that I prayed to the Mother Goddess day and night and finally got the chance to listen to your teachings again!"
A moment later, with a dull sound of footsteps, Ahetanmu rushed out from behind. It ran in front of Snorri and leaned down with a bang.
"It's been many years since I left Fort Fearless, and you're doing pretty well now. I remember at that time you said you wanted to be a big man, but it seems like you're not going to stop now."
Trying to find the shadow of the first encounter in the big guy in front of him who had become much stronger, and the well-equipped parts of his body were still shining with the luster of runes, Snorri also felt a few ripples in his heart.
Time flies so fast! He is no longer the dwarf prince who worked so hard to solve Skarsnik. Now he only needs to fire the Storm Hammer to call the Eight Peaks Mountain War General to see Brother Mao!
"It's all protected by you and the ancestors and gods!"
Aihetanmu squeezed out more smiles. The mercenaries who came out to work as mercenaries were all young and middle-aged males. With 500 capable soldiers under his command, he could indeed be called a tyrant or tribal leader.
"It's indeed a smart demon. I saw you right!" Snorri chuckled at the naivety it pretended to do, ignoring the disdainful looks from some of the ogres following him. This guy can be said to be able to pick up and put down. .
After parting ways in the Fearless Fortress, Ahtanmu led his men around the human empire. As Snorri's reputation grew, he heard many stories but paid them no mind. After saving up enough money, he went west and found a large tribe to join, hoping to find a wife and live a good life.
Unexpectedly, the tribe provoked the Butcher's Fort, and a large group of dwarves wearing orange-haired crowns came to the door and killed them until they were defeated. Because of its strength, it was promoted to a guard and witnessed Agrim defeat the tyrant of the tribe - the first ax cut off the war blade; the second ax cut off the arm; the third ax broke the belly armor.
The butchers traded wounds for wounds and life for lives, which shattered its courage, and Ahetanmu kept retreating. The tribe's master slaughterer chose to kill his fellow tribesmen and sacrifice them to the God of the Stomach after using up all the nubula, but it still didn't help. When the meat hook searching for sacrifices passed by, its faith also collapsed.
Enemies from both sides were at stake, but Ahetanmu still wanted to live - continue to conquer and continue to work. For this reason, it made a smart decision - to kill the seriously injured tyrant and beg for surrender from Agrim.
Its behavior made the warriors who valued honor extremely despised, but for the sake of Snorri, it still let Ahetanmu go. Iron Head suddenly had an idea - since the Big Stomach God doesn't bless me, why not change a batch of letters? Not only does it create a sense of friendship, but it also provides ample room for development.
"Do you believe it yourself? What will your men do?"
"How is it possible? Everyone who hangs out with me has to believe it. We pray together before every meal. Anyone who dares to urinate will be stewed! Little ones, give it to the king!"
"Praise to the great Mother Goddess ~ Valaya ~ Praise to the great Father God..."
Although not very neat, the ogres really stumbled and sang the god's trumpet. Seeing this scene, every Anvil Guard involuntarily straightened their backs. There was no such scene in the golden age!
(End of chapter)
