Boss, there's no rush.
Next time, could we avoid using the bone dragon for transporting horses? Right now, the horses are on the ground, both pulling and wretching.
Accompanying this message were several images depicting 10 horses all kneeling in disarray, surrounded by chaos.
A few farmers were attempting to soothe the distressed animals, suggesting it would take some time before they could resume normal activities.
Fongo had not anticipated such a strong reaction from the horses.
He was unsure whether it was the bone dragon that frightened them or if it was simply their first experience of loft.
In any case, next time if time permits, it would be wise to refrain from using the bone dragon for transporting horses.
All right, let the horses rest for a day.
Once they recover, we can resume work.
Fong Ho could only concede to allowing the horses a day of respit.
After a brief exchange, the skeletal merchant returned swiftly, bearing nine 800 war fire coins, and a reputation with the blood clan had also increased.
My lord, the blood clan is quite satisfied with the quality of the shipment.
In the future, they will place specific orders with us, and we must ensure the quality of goods, reported the skeletal merchant.
Excellent.
This is indeed good news.
Quality is assured with system production, eliminating any concerns over subpar or exceptional items.
All products adhere to a uniform standard.
Present satisfaction will naturally lead to future contentment.
Very well, my lord.
Having completed the order, Fonhao returned to his residence with 9 800 battle coins.
Meanwhile, in the Skull Crusher tribe, Warchief Thr sat upon his throne, panting heavily, his voice booming like a bellows being drawn.
Below him, a group of Orc leaders bowed their heads, anxiously awaiting the news.
"You mean Commander Amir's army of 300 has perished?" Not a single one returned.
Thrall's deep voice resonated, causing the temperature in the hall to plummet further.
Days had passed since the 300 work army had set out to vanquish the undead, and the lack of victorious tidings prompted him to dispatch scouts for reconnaissance.
The reports that returned today revealed a battlefield devoid of any surviving orc warriors after the fierce conflict.
What could possess the power to annihilate 300 000 valiant orcs, leaving no one to escape? My chieftain, one scout reported, "We discovered traces of battle.
The ground is stained crimson with blood.
Yet, curiously, not a single corpse of the fallen orcs, not even a severed limb could be found.
" The scouts swallowed hard, struggling to articulate the scene they encountered.
The entire landscape was a wash in blood, flowing through the crevices of the rocks, the earth and stones alike drenched in a deep red hue.
They had identified signs of the orc encampment, but nothing remained besides the traces.
No tents, no bodies, only the darkened earth and scattered flesh mingled with the soil to testify that this was indeed the sight of a great battle.
And what of the undead city? What has become of it? For all inquired further, to the west of the battlefield, we spotted a city under the control of the undead, fortified by a substantial army of the undead.
It seems they established this first line of defense upon discovering our intentions.
The scout replied, swallowing again.
We specifically checked Copper Bull's territory.
His market remains in operation, suggesting he did not participate in the battle.
With a thunderous crash, Fro slammed his fist down, shattering the stone table before him.
How dare he, Trick, my chieftain? Time is of the essence.
We must summon the shaman to resurrect Amiri so we can ascertain what truly transpired.
One of the orcs suggested indeed this was no time for anger.
The complete annihilation of 300 0000 troops indicated they faced an unprecedented foe.
Understanding the situation quickly was imperative for an appropriate response.
Thrall settled back into his seat, his chest heaving with intensity, and ordered the shaman to be summoned.
Yes, my chieftain.
Before long, a robed orc priest entered, leaning upon a wooden staff, his body slightly bowing in respectful greeting.
My chieftain, you summon me.
Priest, Amir has fallen in battle, and I require your assistance at the altar to bring him back to life.
Thrall addressed the priest.
His tone softened considerably.
Amir is dead.
How did this come to pass? The priest was equally takenback by the news.
Amiri led an army of 300,000 orcs in a battle.
Not only could the Frost Wind Mountains be conquered, but the entire region could be laid to waste.
Just a few days into the campaign, news of fatalities began to circulate, which was quite difficult to believe.
Our curiosity peaked.
We could only await Amir's resurrection to unveil the truth.
Sideth thr.
Regardless, the loss of 300,000 troops would undoubtedly deliver a significant blow to the Frost Wind Mountains.
Reassembling such a formidable force is no trivial task, and a defeat would tarnish one's prestige.
"Very well, let us proceed to the altar," the priest declared, stepping forward.
The group made their way to the altar, where the orc priest commenced the rituals.
However, as time elapsed, beads of sweat began to form on the priest's brow, and his demeanor grew increasingly peculiar.
After a lengthy interval, the orc priest descended once more, approaching thrall to relay.
Warchief Amiri is experiencing a fate akin to Kent.
His soul is imprisoned and cannot be resurrected through the altar.
Thrral's expression darkened further.
This revelation implied that Amir's demise was directly linked to the undead.
Awaken his spirit.
I have questions to pose.
Thall commanded.
Understood.
The priest returned to the altar and gradually Amir's visage began to materialize above it.
Amiri, how did you meet your end? For all inquired, Wararchief, the undead forces were overwhelming, bolstered by bone dragons and skeletal trolls, elite units against which the orc army stood no chance.
Pain etched across Amir's spirit as he spoke.
Upon hearing this, the assembly erupted into a cacophony of disbelief.
Bone dragons.
Such undead creatures were only rumored in tales.
How could they possibly manifest here? Thr too was takenback but quickly regained his composure.
Amiri, do you possess any additional intelligence? The undead army is vast and the orc tribes that pledged allegiance to us have already succumbed to their dominion.
Wararchief, the odds of victory in this conflict are slim, Amiri warned, his form beginning to wne until it ultimately vanished.
Silence enveloped the room, and every gaze fell upon Thr.
Once war is ignited, it seldom concludes easily.
Even if Thr were to withdraw, would the ascendant undead acquies? Taking a deep breath, Thrawl stroed down from the altar.
Dispatch, scouts, I require more comprehensive and detailed intelligence.
In the territory, Fong House stood before the Lord's stone tower, preparing for its upgrade.
The material for the level six Lord's Hall were plentiful.
Only the upgrade remained.
Upgrade.
In an instant, radiance enveloped the Lord's stone tower.
And as the light faded, the following appeared.
Level six Lord's stone tower.
Belonging Lord Fong Ho abilities production harvesting three unit mobility three.
All attributes to existing structures.
Level five underground tomb.
Level five stables.
Note core structure of the territory.
Materials required for upgrade.
Tough wood 5200, stone bricks 7,000, iron 700, metal parts 520.