Warhammer Divine Throne

The production and development in the northern kingdom were seriously affected. The newly appointed Duke of Leonais, Aldred, quickly discovered that he could only govern half the duchy. He had no choice but to seek aid from the royal court and the southern nobles. The southern nobles did not refuse and sent quite a bit of food supplies.

Two weeks passed, and autumn arrived.

The weather started to become cooler, and Laine’s wedding date was drawing nearer. The Lake Fairy’s birthday was scheduled for the late autumn. During this period, Laine lived a quiet life according to his own rhythm, arranging for his steward Kasenberg and tax officer Gaspardon to prepare for the wedding.

Occasionally, he would visit the Dawn Wizard Tower to see what Tygris was teaching Veronica and Teresa, though Laine mostly couldn’t understand it. The magic taught by Tygris was far too profound, and after listening a few times, Laine decisively gave up.

The warm early autumn breeze blew over Count Glamorgan’s domain, and unknowingly, it was the harvest season again. This year, the Glamorgan count’s domain had developed to twenty-eight villages, with a population approaching eighty thousand, possessing over a thousand standing army soldiers and more than a hundred knights, one dwarf musket team, and one squad of Novigrin Broken Iron Warriors.

The territory was abuzz with festive vibes. The peasants all knew that their beloved count was getting married. The lowly peasants were, of course, destined not to attend the count’s wedding ceremony, but they could still wish the count’s marriage well in their hearts.

What no one knew was that another noble guest planning to attend Laine’s wedding had arrived.

Several carriages loaded with dwarf cargo entered Count Glamorgan’s domain. Engineer Dugen the Ironman and King Belgar of Eight Peaks sat at the carriage’s front, gazing at the golden waves of wheat along the way, enjoying the pleasant breeze and drinking refreshing malt beer, feeling quite content. Behind the carriage followed dozens of Broken Iron Warriors and Iron Hammer Warriors. They were the Angland Oathsworn and Belgar’s most loyal subordinates.

”Cheers~” Dugen took out a mug, filled it with malt beer for Belgar, and then for himself, downing it in one gulp: ”Cheers to the Ancestor Glarni! Cheers to the first king of our Angland Clan, Ruan Iron Hammer!”

”Come on, Dugen! Malt beer!” Dugen the Ironman’s support greatly alleviated Belgar’s predicament, making him feel more at ease. After settling the remaining clansmen, the King of Eight Peaks took this opportunity to visit, explaining to Rorrek that he wanted to establish contact with the humans. With Dugen the Ironman’s guidance, Belgar followed him to Laine’s territory.

”Gulp gulp gulp~” Another mug of malt beer went down, and Belgar burped, thinking that it had been so long since he had enjoyed malt beer like this.

It was absolutely refreshing!

”The count is a very capable person. From the moment he welcomed us dwarves, I knew of his great ambitions and his exceptional ability to fight. I don’t need to say much more, but the heavy cavalry team led by the count himself is astonishingly powerful in battle.” Dugen the Ironman continued to introduce: ”Whenever we fight alongside the count’s army, we never have to worry about enemies outflanking us. We only need to fire our muskets with abandon.”

”Heavy cavalry...” Belgar’s eyes brightened, and he stroked his white beard: ”I’ve heard that the knights of Brittania are acclaimed as the best heavy cavalry in the Old World, even stronger than the Imperial Knight Order. I wonder if I will have the chance to see them this time.”

”There will definitely be an opportunity.” Dugen took out freshly baked whole-grain bread stuffed with vegetables and ham and ate it with relish: ”But I have an unpleasant thing to say first. Belgar, you are our king, noble in status. The count will surely meet you, but I hope you don’t...”

”I know, I know.” Belgar sighed softly: ”Dugen, I must thank you for this. If you hadn’t sent several wagons of supplies, we wouldn’t know how to get through this winter. I really can’t bring myself to open up to Rorrek again.”

”Belgar... I told you when you set out that decades of accumulation and an army of eight thousand would not be enough to reclaim Eight Peaks Mountain.” Dugen also sighed: ”The army is too small, and not to mention Evil Moon Clan’s Scasnik, there is even a black orc army under Scasnik’s command of over a thousand. And even if we did reclaim Eight Peaks Mountain from the Evil Moon Clan, we couldn’t hold it. Underneath the Earth Vein Network, there is still Quik and its ratman army.”

”Komanik also holds this opinion. Right now, we must first devise a way to capture a fortress, restore production, and then gather the scattered clansmen.” Belgar looked at the flourishing plains, somewhat lost in thought: ”Our opportunities are dwindling, and if it continues like this, the Angland Clan will be crushed by hatred.”

Dugen knew from Belgar’s words that the King of Eight Peaks would not give up the quest to reclaim Eight Peaks Mountain, no matter what. So, he refrained from trying to persuade further. The carriages moved along the road, the axles turning back and forth. The dwarves marveled at the tall windmills, mills, fertile lands, and workshops within the count’s domain.

”It’s the Sharp Ears!” Some stubborn long-bearded dwarves spotted the elf figures: ”There are Sharp Ears here! And lots of them!”

”That seems to be a High Elf?!”

”Oh! How unlucky, why are there so many elves here?”

”They annoy me just by looking at them!”

The Angland Oathsworn loudly complained, as it was common for dwarves to dislike elves.