In the dense woods midway along the Khyprian road, the air was thick with the scent of iron and the unique sweaty odor of greenskins .
A large number of greenskins , like lurking beasts, hid in the bushes and canopies on both sides of the road—Orc Boyz gripped polished crude iron axes, their blades wrapped in cloth strips to prevent reflections from revealing their positions; hobgoblin spearmen lay prone on the slope, iron spears pointing skyward, tips aimed at the center of the trail; night hobgoblins, riding Death Crawlers, perched on high pine branches, poisonous arrows nocked, their compound eyes scanning the distance vigilantly; even goblins held sharpened wooden spears, hiding behind the Orc Boyz, their small faces filled with expressions of both tension and excitement.
Kurzadh stood on the high slope to the west, holding a brass telescope.
He wore black iron armor trimmed with beast hide, a Bone Tree staff tucked into his waist. The Furball he held had already grown to half a man's height and was currently lying by his feet, its green fur dusted with pine needles. Its round body occasionally rubbed against his boots, as if urging, "Why aren't we fighting yet?"
"By all accounts, they should be here by now," Kurzadh frowned, sweeping the telescope back and forth across the dense woods at the northern end of the trail.
The Angor beast carcass Skarsnik brought back indicated that a beastmen tribe was heading south, likely targeting Katushir.
The Khyprian road was the only route from the northern forest to Katushir, narrow and flanked by dense woods, perfectly suited for a greenskin ambush—He had already instructed Keziaz to take the night hobgoblins and block all side paths at both ends of the trail, leaving only this central "Death Passage," just waiting for the beastmen to stumble in for a glorious WAAAGH!
But the sun was already directly overhead, and there wasn't even a shadow of a beastman on the trail.
Only occasional passing caravans, catching glimpses of greenskin figures faintly visible in the dense woods on either side, were scared witless, tossing down a few bags of "toll money" before fleeing quickly, not even bothering to smooth out their wheel tracks.
"Boss, my axe blade is getting thirsty!" Bone Tree's voice came from below the slope.
The orc, who was carrying a massive axe taller than himself, squatted in the bushes, occasionally chopping off nearby branches with the blade, his face full of impatience. "Are those beastmen too scared to show up? Should we go look for them in the forest?"
"What's the rush?" Kurzadh lowered the telescope and shouted down the slope. "Beastmen love to loot. Katushir has grain and iron; there's no way they'd take a detour!" Although he said this, he felt uneasy—Had Skarsnik been mistaken? Was that Angor beast just a lost lone wolf? Or did the beastmen never intend to use the Khyprian road at all?
He was about to call Skarsnik over to ask—that hobgoblin was most sensitive to movements in the forest and might be able to detect the beastmen's tracks.
But before he could speak, he heard "thump, thump, thump" footsteps behind him, accompanied by heavy panting.
"B-boss! This is bad! Something big has happened!"
Kurzadh looked back and saw Scarface, his face flushed red from running, his iron armor askew, clutching a rolled-up piece of parchment. Even the short knife he treasured most was hanging crookedly at his waist.
This goblin was not only among the first greenskins to follow him, but he was also taller than average hobgoblins, had learned some forging from Bone Tree, and had built up muscles tougher than hobgoblin Boyz. Not to mention he had the nickname "Loyal Hound," yet now he was running like a leaky bellows, unable to speak a complete sentence.
"Why are you panicking? Slow down and talk!" Kurzadh took the parchment and unfolded it—it was Antonio's handwriting, scribbled hastily and smudged with ink, clearly written in a rush.
"Fel-Antonio... Antonio just sent word!" Scarface leaned on his knees, taking a long time to catch his breath. "The beastmen... the beastmen didn't take the Khyprian road! They followed the skaven... they dug tunnels and bypassed it! Now... now Katushir is surrounded!"
"Dug tunnels?" Kurzadh froze, nearly dropping the telescope in his hand.
He looked down at the words on the parchment: "The Red Copper Slope Copper Mine skaven nest connects to an underground passage. The beastmen used this route to travel south and have reached Katushir. City Defense Forces are suffering heavy casualties, requesting support from the Blackrock Clan."
Kurzadh was completely dumbfounded.
He never imagined that the beastmen would employ "underground tactics"! No matter how meticulously the defenses on the Khyprian road were laid out, they couldn't stop enemies emerging from beneath the ground! Had half a month of preparation—digging traps, blocking side roads, practicing ambush formations—all been for nothing?
Did they know how much effort he had put in?
They just decided to dig tunnels? Did they have no respect for him?
"Damn it! They can play like that?" Kurzadh couldn't help but curse, feeling both angry and amused—greenskins liked to charge head-on, humans liked setting formations, but he never expected these chaotic beastmen barbarians to learn tunnel-digging detours from the skaven. It was truly eye-opening.
Furball seemed to sense his irritation, lifting its head and rubbing its small head against his hand, making a "woo woo" sound.
Kurzadh took a deep breath, suppressing his frustration—anger was useless; he needed to find a solution quickly.
If the beastmen besieged Katushir and it fell, the Blackrock Clan would be next; moreover, without the trade route through Katushir, the tribe's supply of iron ore and cloth would be cut off, not to mention the mushroom wine waiting to be sold to Antonio for money.
If Katushir had to fall, it couldn't be now.
"Wreelx! Blow the horn! Assemble!" Kurzadh spun around abruptly and yelled down the slope.
The horn Wreelx held was made from the horn of a horned ox, capable of carrying its sound three miles away.
"Woooo—Aooo—!"
The loud horn blast instantly shattered the silence of the dense woods.
The Orc Boyz hiding in the bushes sprang up, hoisting their iron axes and running toward the base of the high slope; Death Crawlers in the canopy leaped down, their eight spider legs shaking the leaves loose upon landing; hobgoblin spearmen and archers emerged from rock crevices and tree hollows, their weapons swishing loudly; even the goblins formed crooked lines and followed behind, their small faces full of confusion—Why were they assembling before the fighting had even begun?
Over eight hundred greenskins (not counting the goblins) quickly gathered in a dense, dark mass at the base of the high slope, like a huge green blotch.
Like a green plague.
The Orc Boyz noisily asked, "What's going on? Where are the beastmen?" The hobgoblins inquired among themselves, "Are we not fighting?" night hobgoblins, riding spiders, zipped back and forth through the ranks, trying to find Keziaz to get an answer.
Kurzadh jumped down from the high slope, landing in front of the greenskins .
He looked at the group of eager greenskins before him, and his frustration resurfaced—the ambush they had prepared had turned into an empty wait, which would annoy anyone.
"Fun's over, go home!" Kurzadh yelled at the greenskins .
At this, the greenskins instantly erupted.
"Go home? Why go home? My axe blade hasn't tasted blood yet!" Bone Tree was the first to shout, slamming his giant axe onto the ground, making dirt fly up.
"Exactly! We waited all morning, just to go back like this?" The Orc Boyz chimed in, some even starting to shove each other, clearly full of pent-up aggression.
The hobgoblins also complained, "Boss, are the beastmen too scared to come? We should go drag them out!"
Furball also made two "woo woo" sounds, bumping Kurzadh's leg with its head, as if protesting, "No going home."
Looking at the dissatisfied faces of the greenskins , Kurzadh suddenly smiled.
He raised a hand to quiet them down, and when the ranks settled, he slowly said, "What's the hurry? If the beastmen won't come to us, then we'll go find them!"
"Find them?" The greenskins paused for a moment, then realized—boss was going to lead them to actively fight the beastmen!
"Yes!" Kurzadh pointed in the direction of Katushir, his voice booming. "They are surrounding Katushir, stealing grain and iron. By what right? Those things should be stolen by our Blackrock Clan first! We set off now, head outside Katushir, and show those beastmen what's what! Let them know that the greenskins of the Forest of Gloom are not to be messed with!"
"WAAAGH!!"
The greenskins instantly erupted! The Orc Boyz raised their iron axes, waving them frantically, their shouts shaking the leaves loose; hobgoblin spearmen tossed their iron spears into the air and caught them, yelling, "Kill the beastmen! Steal loot!"; night hobgoblins, riding Death Crawlers, circled the ranks, the feathers on their poisoned arrows gleaming coldly; even the goblins waved wooden sticks and shouted "WAAAGH!", their small faces brimming with excitement.
Bone Tree rushed up to Kurzadh, his face flushed with excitement. "Boss! Are we leaving now? I'll go tell the Boyz to bring all their gear!"
"Not yet," Kurzadh patted his shoulder. "First, head back to Blackrock Spire. Tell Dragu to bring all the forged iron axes, and tell Zaggur to load ten barrels of mushroom wine—we need drinks after a victory!"
"I'm on it!" Bone Tree turned and ran toward Blackrock Spire, the Orc Boyz following him, the mighty procession kicking up a cloud of dust.
Keziaz, riding a Death Crawler, sped to Kurzadh's side and said with a smile, "Boss, you always find a way! The Boyz were getting restless, but this is much more satisfying!"
"That's right." Kurzadh picked up his telescope and glanced toward Katushir—although he couldn't see the city, he could imagine the chaos there.
With the beastmen surrounding Katushir, the Katushir City Defense Forces certainly couldn't hold out. Antonio would inevitably request aid again, and the Blackrock Clan could conveniently enter the city as "reinforcements," if they dared.
This way, they could loot spoils, gauge Katushir's weaknesses, and simultaneously fight a glorious WAAAGH!, gathering enough energy to upgrade the mushroom field. It was hitting three targets with one arrow.
"Let's go, back to Blackrock Spire!" Kurzadh swung onto Furball—the little fellow was now big enough to carry him, running quickly with its green fur flying, and he didn't have to worry about falling off.
Furball seemed to know they were going to war, excitedly making "woo woo" sounds and running full speed toward Blackrock Spire.
The greenskins followed behind, the mighty procession moving like a green torrent, heading back along the Khyprian road.
The Orc Boyz sang war songs, the hobgoblins wrestled with each other, night hobgoblins rode spiders leaping through the canopy, and even the goblins ran quickly, afraid of being left behind.
Axes hungry for beast bones! Tusks itchin' to rip 'n' tear! Greenskin eyes ablaze with fury— Just waitin' to chop beast hair!
WAAAGH! WAAAGH! Kill da lot! Drink their blood while it's still hot! Smash their totems, crack their skulls— WAAAGH! WAAAGH! We ain't done yet, boyz!
Orc horns make the best drinkin' cups! Beast blood mixed with stolen wine! Ironclad wagons crush their dens— Fists flatten skulls, workin' fine!
WAAAGH! WAAAGH! Kill da lot! Drink their blood while it's still hot! Smash their totems, crack their skulls— WAAAGH! WAAAGH! We ain't done yet, boyz!
Don't stop choppin', don't stop bashin'! Steal their meat, burn their holes! War cries shake da very ground— Da greenskin WAAAGH can't be controlled!
Beast hooves crushed to rotted paste! Not a single bit gone to waste! FUN! FUN! FUN! is all we need— WAAAGH! WAAAGH! WE NEVAH STOP DA FEED!
Sunlight filtered through the leaves, shining on the greenskins , coating their black leather armor and greenskin with a layer of golden light.
Kurzadh sat on Furball's back, fiddling with the telescope, a smile curving his lips—He had thought the wait was for nothing, but unexpectedly, a better opportunity had arisen.
The beastmen want to loot Katushir? They'll have to ask the greenskins of the Blackrock Clan if they agree first!
"Boss, when we get to Katushir, who should we chop first?" Scarface ran up, leaning close to Furball, asking eagerly.
"Chop the strongest one first!" Kurzadh said with a laugh. "Whoever chops the strongest beastman gets two extra bowls of mushroom wine at noon!"
"I'll definitely chop the strongest one!" Scarface shouted excitedly, running even faster.
The laughter and war songs of the greenskins echoed along the Khyprian road.
The frustration of the empty wait had long vanished, replaced by anticipation for the fight and hunger for spoils.
For greenskins , fighting never needed a reason—if the enemy wouldn't come, they would actively seek the enemy out. Where they fought wasn't important; what mattered was whether they could chop enough and loot satisfyingly.
In the direction of Blackrock Spire, the smoke rising from Stonewatch was already visible.
Kurzadh knew that soon, this fully armed greenskin Army would march toward Katushir, delivering a "surprise" to the beastmen besieging the city.