Blackrock Spire's giant fighting pit was temporarily converted into an upgrade plaza, with fresh animal hides covering the flat Kurzadh ground at the bottom of the pit, and Blackrock Clan's greenskin war banners planted all around the high platform at the pit's edge—the banners were painted with crooked Gork and Mork runes and flapped loudly in the howling mountain wind.
Kurzadh stood in the center of the high platform, holding a dozing Furball in his arms, surrounded by a dense crowd of greenskins , layered from the bottom of the pit to the edge, like a group of goblins waiting to be fed.
"Everyone quiet down!" Kurzadh's voice, amplified by shamanic magic, drowned out the greenskins' clamor. "You all did great in the last Katushir battle and in the fortress construction recently! Now, I'll let Gork and Mork make you stronger!"
"Gork and Mork! Gork and Mork!" The greenskins instantly erupted.
The Orc Boyz roared, raising their iron axes; the hobgoblins stood on tiptoes, waving their long spears; even the goblin squatting at the outermost layer waved their small wooden sticks, their eyes filled with fanaticism—they all knew that "Getting stronger" meant being able to fight harder, drink more beer, and grab more loot.
Kurzadh took a deep breath and silently thought, "System, start upgrade."
The next second, a virtual system panel unfolded before his eyes, densely listing the greenskins awaiting upgrade: 578 hobgoblin Boyz, 206 Orc Boyz, 839 regular goblin, 420 hobgoblins.
He didn't hesitate, quickly sliding his fingertip across the panel and giving the command: "Hobgoblin Boyz, advance to hobgoblin archers, advance to hobgoblin spearmen; Orc Boyz, all advance to orc nob; regular goblin, all transform into hobgoblins; hobgoblins, all transform into hobgoblin laborers!"
The moment the command was given, a faint green light suddenly flashed across the sky, like the gaze of Gork and Mork, enveloping the entire upgrade plaza.
Faint green light emanated from the greenskins , and their bodies began to change:
The hobgoblin Boyz grew half a head taller, their previously slender arms became thick, and the axes in their hands automatically transformed into sharp iron bows or long spears—hobgoblin archers' bowstrings were wrapped with animal sinew, and their quivers were filled with iron-tipped arrows; hobgoblin spearmen's spear tips were polished to a shine, and their spear shafts were carved with simple anti-slip patterns.
The Orc Boyz' changes were even more pronounced; their muscles swelled as if inflated, their green skin tightened, revealing bulging lines, their original leather armor ripped open at the seams, and the iron axes in their hands grew a size larger, their blades gleaming coldly—the orc nob all raised their new weapons and roared at the sky, their voices much deeper than before, full of power.
The regular goblin changed the least, only growing slightly taller, gaining a small hoe in their hands, and a bit less of the dullness in their eyes, replaced by a touch of obedience to commands—this was the mark of hobgoblins; while the original hobgoblins gained a coarse cloth vest, their tools were replaced with more refined small saws or hammers, and their movements became more agile, officially becoming hobgoblin laborers.
"WAAAGH!!" The moment the upgrade was complete, the greenskins erupted in deafening cheers.
The orc nob punched each other's chests, testing their newly acquired strength; the hobgoblin archers drew their bowstrings, making a "Buzzing" sound; the hobgoblin laborers gathered around their new tools, excitedly fiddling with them, and even Furball jumped out of stone's arms, whimpering at the sky, as if echoing the blessing of Gork and Mork.
Kurzadh, however, was not so excited; he stared at the rapidly decreasing WAAAGH! points on the system panel, his mouth twitching in pain.
Before the upgrade, he had accumulated a full 1250 WAAAGH! points, earned little by little from the Katushir campaign, clearing out beastmen remnants, and even daily training; but this wave of upgrades directly spent 1080 points, leaving only a pitiful 170 points on the panel, like a bone gnawed by a squig, bare and empty.
"This isn't spending money, it's a torrent!" Kurzadh wailed in his heart.
He remembered when he first transmigrated as a greenskin, he only had 10 WAAAGH! points, not even enough to advance one hobgoblin boy; later, by robbing humans, fighting greenskins , and beating small groups of beastmen, he accumulated points little by little to barely support the tribe.
Now, although the tribe was larger and the sources of WAAAGH! points were more numerous, the expenses also increased; this wave of upgrades spent almost half a year's accumulation, so how could he not feel the pain?
But he also knew that WAAAGH! points were more important to him and the tribe than gold coins.
For greenskins , WAAAGH! was the source of power, the confidence to fight, and the fundamental reason for them to grow from weak to strong; for Kurzadh, WAAAGH! points were even more a versatile "System currency"—able to upgrade greenskins , unlock buildings, exchange for weapons, and even release stronger shamanic magic with WAAAGH! energy at critical moments.
He owed his current position entirely to the accumulation of WAAAGH! points.
Three years ago, he was a weak goblin who couldn't even defeat a squig; relying on the system's novice reward of 10 WAAAGH! points, he barely transformed into a hobgoblin, then accumulated points through countless fights, advanced to a hobgoblin Shaman, and finally became the leader of the Blackrock Clan.
If it weren't for WAAAGH! points, he might have long since become a beastmen's snack, or been swallowed by other greenskin tribes.
After years of exploration, Kurzadh also figured out the system's rules for granting WAAAGH! points. In summary, there were two paths:
The first was to fight and win large-scale battles.
Whether it was against humans, dwarves, or other greenskin tribes, as long as both sides committed more than five hundred troops and the Blackrock Clan achieved victory, the system would reward corresponding WAAAGH! points based on the scale and outcome of the battle.
The last Katushir battle, where they defeated over three thousand beastmen, directly rewarded 579 points, the most he had ever received in a single instance.
The second, and most crucial, path was to wage war against the Chaos faction.
The system explicitly stated that only by killing creatures of the Chaos faction could WAAAGH! points be obtained, such as humans, beastmen, skaven, Chaos dwarf who worshipped Chaos, and even Chaos Daemons.
If he killed ordinary humans, dwarves, or neutral creatures, no matter how many, he wouldn't get a single WAAAGH! point.
"To put it bluntly, it's encouraging me to go all out against the servants of the Four Chaos Gods," Kurzadh muttered to himself, but he wasn't averse to it.
Before he transmigrated, he knew that Chaos was the greatest threat in this world, and whether humans, dwarves, or greenskins , all would eventually face the armies of Chaos.
If he wanted to survive, to make the Blackrock Clan grow strong, and even to "Save the world" (although that idea was a bit outlandish, killing more Chaos creatures was always right), going to war with Chaos was inevitable and unavoidable.
Moreover, this perfectly aligned with the greenskins' nature.
For greenskins , there was no concept of "over-militarization"—the Boyz in the tribe were eager to fight every day, feast every day, and didn't care who they fought, as long as there was a fight, and the more exciting the better.
During the last war with the beastmen, the orcs were so excited they didn't sleep for three days, and after the fight, they still felt they hadn't fought enough; after this upgrade, the orc nob surrounded Kurzadh every day, asking when they would fight again.
"What's the rush!" Kurzadh cursed with a smile, "Once our fortress is fully built, and Furball grows a bit stronger, I'll take you to have a good fight with those Chaos-worshipping beastmen! I promise you'll get your fill!"
"WAAAGH!!" The greenskins cheered again.
The Orc Boyz waved their great axes in the pit; the hobgoblin archers shot arrows at the sky, the arrows whizzing past and sticking into the distant stone wall; the hobgoblin laborers also jumped along, and although they couldn't fight, they looked forward to the celebratory feast after the battle—with roasted lamb to eat, beer to drink, and new tools to tinker with.
Kurzadh watched the fanatical greenskins before him, and the pain in his heart gradually dissipated.
Although a large amount of WAAAGH! points had been spent, seeing the greenskins in the tribe grow stronger one by one, seeing the fighting spirit in the Orc Boyz' eyes, and seeing the fine weapons in the hobgoblins' hands, he knew that the money was well spent.
He looked up at the sky above Blackrock Spire; the faint green light had dispersed, leaving only the clear blue sky and a few floating white clouds.
In the direction of the distant fortress, the clanging sound of blacksmithing could be heard; that was Guzhana forging better weapons for the newly advanced orc nob; at the entrance of the Khyprian road, the Spider Riders were patrolling, vigilantly watching the direction of the Grey Mountains, preventing any enemies from sneaking in.
"Four Chaos Gods, just you wait." Kurzadh silently thought, "One day, I will lead the Blackrock Clan to cut through your Chaos armies and make the name of Gork and Mork spread throughout the world!"
He raised his arm and shouted to the greenskins : "Upgrades are done! Now, Orc Boyz go to the training ground to practice axes! hobgoblin archers go to the firing range to practice arrows! hobgoblin laborers go help at the brick kiln! Once we're ready, we'll go fight the biggest, most exciting battle!"
"WAAAGH!!" The greenskins roared in agreement, turning and running towards their respective destinations.
The stomping of the orcs made the pit tremble slightly, the hobgoblins' laughter echoed in the corridors, and the goblin's short legs churned rapidly; the entire Blackrock Spire instantly filled with vitality.
Kurzadh stood on the high platform, watching the greenskins' retreating figures, a smile playing on his lips.
He stroked Furball in his arms; the little guy had woken up and was licking his finger with his tongue.
Kurzadh knew that even though the WAAAGH! points were spent, as long as there were fights to be fought and battles to be won, the WAAAGH! points would soon accumulate again.