The humidity from the Forest of Gloom hadn't completely dissipated, but a wave of scorching heat was already rising from the forge deep inside the Stonewatch Mine.
A dozen torches were stuck into the cave walls. The orange-red light reflected off the iron slag scattered across the floor, giving it a metallic sheen. The clang of hammering echoed like thunder through the mine, shaking the water droplets loose from the cave ceiling.
Kurzadh leaned against a thick wooden pillar in the mine, holding Furball.
Furball was no longer the small lump of flesh he once was; he had grown into a giant, half-man-high Siege squig. Its dark greenskin had a tough, keratinous layer, and its round belly was covered in light brown markings. Currently, it was sprawled lazily in Kurzadh's arms, tongue lolling out, occasionally flicking its tail and scattering the iron slag all over the floor.
Kurzadh's gaze fell on the figure in the center of the forge—Guzhana Ironhide was holding a hammer in one hand and a clay bowl in the other, tilting her head back to gulp down a large mouthful of Black Mushroom Liquor.
The liquor streamed down her dark gray chin, soaking the leather armor on her chest, but she paid it no mind. Wiping her mouth, she slammed the hammer down onto the glowing red iron ingot.
"CLANG!"
Sparks flew everywhere, and the ingot warped under the impact. Guzhana twisted her wrist, and the hammer seemed to have eyes, landing precisely on the gaps in the ingot. Every strike was full of power, yet carried the unique rhythm of the Chaos dwarfs.
The bellows at her feet were being frantically pulled by two hobgoblin Boyz. The furnace roared, reflecting crimson light on her face, and her blood-red eyes were filled with concentration. She hadn't even noticed Kurzadh entering.
A dozen Orc Boyz surrounded the forge, all watching intently.
They held crude iron hammers, some clutching unfinished iron axes, their eyes filled with envy and fanaticism.
Among them, one tall orc was watching the most seriously—he was half a head taller than the other Orc Boyz, his muscles bulging, and his greenskin covered in scars from battle. This was Greln, Kurzadh's personal orc Guard.
Greln was famous in the tribe as a "forge fanatic."
In a fight, he wasn't as fierce as Bonetree; in a charge, he wasn't as swift as Scarface, but when it came to blacksmithing, no one in the entire Blackrock Clan could surpass him. After the last battle at Katushir, he had used captured orc armor to figure out how to forge an iron axe himself. Its blade was sharp enough to split rock, and even Bonetree praised it, saying, "It's better than what I make."
Right now, he was intently watching Guzhana's technique, his fingers unconsciously mimicking the swing of the hammer, his breathing barely audible.
"This Greln boy could take the lead role eventually," Kurzadh mused internally.
After the battle of Katushir, many Orc Boyz in the tribe had advanced to become orc Big 'Uns—with stronger muscles, greater strength, and richer combat experience. Greln was one of them.
As for Bonetree, a month ago, Kurzadh had used a system-unlocked Hero slot to promote him, granting him the Hero title "Big 'Un Lunatic" and officially making him a Hero unit of the Blackrock Clan.
Now, Bonetree not only had twice the strength he did before but also gained a "Frenzy" skill. When fighting, he acted like a maniac; even squigs dared not approach him.
"Clang! Clang! Clang!"
Guzhana struck another dozen times, then plunged the glowing red ingot into cold water.
With a loud "Sizzle," white steam billowed up, filling the air with the smell of hot iron.
She picked up the cooled iron axe and tapped the blade with a small hammer. It rang out with a clear "Ding-ding," and a satisfied smile appeared on her face.
Kurzadh stepped forward and picked up the iron axe.
The axe head gleamed with a cold metallic luster, the blade was sharp enough to reflect a person's image, and Chaos dwarf runes were carved into the handle. It felt heavy in the hand, yet perfectly balanced.
"This is excellent!" he couldn't help but exclaim. "This axe could cleave right through a Longhair's iron armor!"
Guzhana lifted her chin proudly and took another swig of mushroom liquor. "Of course! My family's forging techniques are top-notch! As long as I have enough iron ore and Warpstone, I can forge weapons even better than this!"
Kurzadh watched her unrestrained manner, feeling a bit speechless. This Chaos dwarf woman drank several jars of mushroom liquor every time she forged, claiming that "Drinking keeps the hand steady." She always ended up red-faced, yet she had never once ruined a piece of ironwork.
However, given the quality of the ironwork she produced, Kurzadh didn't bother commenting.
It was no exaggeration to say that Guzhana had the "Highest possible treatment" in the Blackrock Clan.
Mushroom liquor was supplied without limit; Zaggur delivered two jars of Black Mushroom Liquor to her every day. She got whatever she wanted to eat; Chik saved her roasted lamb legs daily and even used spices acquired from Katushir to make her roasted meat. Even the special Kurzadh beloved by dwarfs—a type of black-veined rock used for quenching iron—Kurzadh had Ferrolie transport from the dwarf trading post in the south, filling two wagons with it each time.
"Your drinking capacity is almost equal to what I sell in a week," Kurzadh said with a chuckle.
Since the mushroom liquor had opened up the market in Katushir, sales had steadily improved, especially among the dwarfs—both Mountain dwarfs and Chaos dwarfs were particularly fond of the spicy yet mellow drink.
Ferrolie said that almost half the drinks in the dwarf taverns in Katushir were now the Blackrock Clan's mushroom liquor, and every shipment was instantly snapped up.
Guzhana chuckled, didn't respond, and picked up another iron ingot, ready to place it in the furnace.
"Wait." Kurzadh stopped her, pushed aside the watching Orc Boyz, and pulled her out of the forge area.
Outside the mine opening, the sunlight was bright, and the outline of the Stonewatch was clearly visible in the distance.
"I have an idea I want to discuss with you." Kurzadh leaned against the stone wall. Furball jumped out of his arms and ran onto the open ground to roll around, making the weeds rustle.
Guzhana raised an eyebrow and folded her arms. "What idea? Do you want me to forge new weapons again?"
"Not weapons, a fortress." Kurzadh pointed toward the Stonewatch, his tone serious. "I want to turn the Stonewatch into a real fortress.
Do you remember? The Blackrock Clan's territory is surrounded by mountains—rolling peaks to the northeast and winding rivers to the southwest, forming a closed wilderness, with only a pass to the north.
And the Stonewatch is right next to the Howling Path, backed by the Rotting Swamp—this place is naturally perfect for building a fortress."
Guzhana looked in the direction he pointed and nodded.
She had traveled the Howling Path with the Chaos dwarf caravan before and knew the terrain here. The Howling Path was the only route connecting north and south; every human caravan and beastman tribe had to pass through it.
The Stonewatch was perfectly positioned right beside the path, backed by the miasma-filled Rotting Swamp, making it easy to defend and difficult to attack.
"Once we turn this into a fortress, the benefits are huge," Kurzadh continued, his eyes full of anticipation. "First, we can block the Howling Path. Anyone who wants to pass north or south has to get our permission—either they pay the toll, or they get our axes!
Second, it can serve as an outpost against the lizardmen tribes. There are quite a few lizardmen living in the Rotting Swamp to the south. They used to ambush our hobgoblin squads often. With a fortress, if they dare to come again, we'll trap them in the swamp and smash them!
Most importantly, massive iron veins have been discovered in the mine. A fortress will let us guard the iron ore, and we'll never have to worry about the tribe's iron tools and weapons again!"
Guzhana listened intently, a flicker of approval in her blood-red eyes.
Having traveled far and wide with the Chaos dwarf caravans, she knew the importance of a good fortress. The Chaos dwarfs were only able to establish themselves in the Blackrock Mountains by relying on their sturdy strongholds.
Stonewatch's geographical location was excellent, and with the iron ore, it certainly had the value to be developed into a strategic fortress.
"I agree," Guzhana nodded. "However, I have one concern—the construction materials."
She glanced at the hobgoblin Boyz nearby who were moving stones. The hobgoblins were carrying the rocks haphazardly, some even dropping them onto their own feet. She couldn't help but frown. "You know these greenskins... I honestly don't believe they can produce any qualified building materials.
For a fortress to be strong, you need granite walls, iron reinforcement bars, and a moat and drawbridge.
But look at them, they struggle just to move a rock. How are they going to manage these materials?"
The smile faded from Kurzadh's face, and he sighed. "That is my biggest worry."
He had long considered the issue of building materials. The greenskins in the tribe could fight, loot, and forge iron, but when it came to construction, they couldn't do anything beyond putting up a wooden shack.
The granite needs to be quarried from the mountains to the northeast, the iron bars forged from the mine's ore, the moat dug, and the drawbridge built. All of this requires specialized personnel and qualified materials, but the tribe doesn't even have a single hobgoblin who knows how to lay bricks right now.
"I asked Ferrolie, and he said there are human craftsmen in Katushir who know how to build fortresses, but those human craftsmen aren't willing to come to a green-skin tribe unless we give them huge amounts of gold and grain."
Kurzadh rubbed his temples. "We have quite a bit of gold now, but grain and iron goods are also tight. If we spend all the gold on hiring craftsmen, the tribe's development will slow down later."
Guzhana fell silent.
She knew that Chaos dwarfs could build fortresses, but her kin were all in the Blackrock Mountains; distant water couldn't quench a nearby fire. Moreover, Chaos dwarfs were notoriously greedy for profit. Even if they were invited, it would require a huge price—Warpstone, iron goods, and large quantities of mushroom liquor, all things the Blackrock Clan was currently short on.
The two stood in the open space, looking at the Stonewatch in the distance, neither speaking.
The sunlight shone on the stone walls, making the collapsed sections of the fortress particularly obvious, as if reminding them that the path to building a fortress was still very long.
Furball seemed to sense their low spirits. It ran over and rubbed against Kurzadh's leg, then Guzhana's leg, letting out soft whimpers.
Kurzadh bent down and patted Furball's head, his gaze hardening again. "No matter how difficult, this fortress must be built.
If we don't build it, when a major enemy invasion comes later, all we can do is issue an early warning, then watch them occupy the Stonewatch and proceed to corner and devour our tribe piece by piece.
We greenskins can't just live by fighting; we need a place to defend our home."
Guzhana looked at his determined eyes and nodded. "You are right.
We Chaos dwarfs also rely on fortresses to defend our homes.
Although materials and manpower are a problem, we can always find a solution.
I can try to teach the hobgoblins how to quarry granite, and teach the Orc Boyz how to forge the iron reinforcement bars—they may be a bit dull, but if I teach them enough times, they'll learn."
Kurzadh's eyes lit up. "Really? You're willing to teach them?"
"I am part of the Blackrock Clan now. The tribe's business is my business."
Guzhana grinned, showing her two small tusks. "However, I have one condition—I can teach them, but the mushroom liquor supply must be doubled. Teaching them is taxing on the mind, so I need more drink to replenish myself."
"No problem!" Kurzadh agreed instantly. "Forget double, if you can teach them, I'll send you four jars of liquor every day!"
The two exchanged a smile, and their previous worries seemed to dissipate considerably.
In the distant forge, the clang of hammering resumed, and the faint sounds of the Orc Boyz' laughter drifted over.
Furball rolled happily on the open ground, and the sunlight fell upon the two of them, warm and bright.