Chapter 78

The fragile peace rapidly degraded between goblins, dwarfs and druegars as many battles broke out for either food or strategically positioned caves.

Right now, the sides were at an impasse. The battles were mostly between 2nd-ranks soldiers from the Army of the Abyss and 2nd-tiers goblin troops, often led by 3rd-tiers and on the rare occasion, a 4th-tier. The battle seemed balanced, while goblins had large numbers, the dwarfs had better equipment and better skills.

The Myceliars had begun paying attention to the warring sides, directing their influence towards them, sensing the disruption in their territories. They gathered the left corpses with a new level of speed and efficiency that seemed to dwarf their usual habits.

The scorched corpses of his fellow dwarfs… This level of power was higher than anything a mere Myceliar could create and fire magic was unheard of and frankly nigh-impossible.

There was something odd about them too. He could feel it and from a quick look at his fellow captains, they could sense that something was extremely wrong as well.

And the aggrieved master Baelgin was in the middle of this mess.

He had long since returned from his bodged hunt and delivered a report to Forward Camp Site #25, where he exchanged Intel of the war's general status and the casualty count.

Needless to say, his first assignment was deemed a failure. He had lost too many soldiers under his command.

When Harkon Boomhammer himself yelled at him for this, he could only grind his teeth.

He was no goddamn soldier, but a pampered !

His uncle was fortunately in the outpost at the opposite side of the mountain range, fighting off the Lich Kastan, a former human king. Otherwise… A suicide mission… His uncle was draconic when it came to failure.

Not only had he found Dafur, who seemed to be… hairless. He shrugged, knowing it was the damn blight. He had a druegar appearance, but those three merged mana crystals with his chest… It was extremely jarring, but he also found it fascinating.

He knew that he would have to kill him, but maybe a few swift experiments. Though the Rockcarver clan would probably quarter him and throw the pieces to hogs as dinner if they knew about it.

Then he remembered. There was a fierce, bloody competition in the Rockcarver clan's line of inheritance.

Therdreag wanted his prized apprentice Tafur to acquire some worldly experience and live through a true battle of life and death. And to give him some reprieve from his family, Baelgin would be the right nut on it. Not necessarily his, though...

Baelgin smirked. Whatever would have happened, Dafur's death seemed inevitable. If not at his hands, Tafur would happily dispose of him by himself. He would just have to find an opportunity to set it up.

Therdreag would be more than happy to 'lend' him to Baelgin.

First for Tafur to gain some experience outside of a laboratory and second to show him how dangerous the world can be. Arn'Dul was a relatively safe city.

He shook his head and looked down.

He frowned at the map before him, showing the contested areas. They had underestimated the Goblin forces. Heavily. It was too dangerous to travel more than a few hours from the outpost even for him and his unit. His last encounter could attest to that.

That peculiar rock… He had sensed the refined mana. Greed swelled in him, but he had long since learned how to subdue these urges.

They brought the druegar shaman to the camp. He said he was a prisoner and he had to fight with them, otherwise they would kill his love, some Jarka. He knew who the pale-skinned shaman was referring to. He had seen her on Dafur's shoulder, alongside Do… No, Lucifer.

He still had to tell Therdreag about his children. He already had to kill Eriv or whatever was left of her and Dori was being possessed by an Ethereal…

Strangely, Therdreag trusted the druegar shaman and allowed him to return to his village.

General Boomhammer did not care much as he had different problems and said that a grateful 4th-rank shaman with a strong village behind him could be useful in the long run.

Baelgin could ask how a 4th-rank druegar shaman was caught by mere low-tiered goblins, but he did not.

He could tell the shaman was their agent.

"Captain Baelgin!" A soldier saluted with a raised fist.

"Soldier," Baelgin half-heartedly saluted back, "what do you want?"

"War was declared! Orders're issued!" He handed him a missive.

He opened it and groaned; he was supposed to go on the front-line in just an hour. Fortunately, as a support... not as a blitzkrieg 'suicide' squad. Though, assassins usually put supports on top of their kill-list…

"Uncle… Ya fuckin' bastard!" He roared, his mana flared as he tore the parchment asunder.

The other captains ignored him and were happily chatting and drinking their share of Khazad-Dum Beer.

The young soldier looked spooked so he beckoned him to leave. Needless to say, he scrambled out of the tent.

After he calmed, he frowned. He could either run into a self-imposed exile or risk his life in a clearly fake war.

Therdreag… it all came to him. The laboratory, sudden appearance of mana crystal deposit, missing Dafur, his sudden fall from grace, which was frankly too fast as if somebody prepared it.

Somebody was meddling. He could feel it in his bones. Assembly? But why? He wasn't too important. Church of Paragons? Maybe… It was not like he had a good standing with them…

Or gods? That would be… Fate.

And there was that… entity that could cast spells using refined mana. He wanted it. If he would present a curiosity like this to the Assembly… Plus it was accompanied by an Ethereal who could make use of the freaking Darkness. He had to use half of his stock of Holy Water to dispel it… So much gold…

Fortune favors the prepared.

He did not tell anyone about it and ordered his men to not say anything either. Not yet.

He would have to be careful.