After thousands of years, the Great Forge of Valaya's temple was relit, and the dwarven craftsmen began their work. The rhythmic sounds of hammering echoed across the flames and anvils.
The vast, deep tunnel network was thoroughly inspected. There were several routes leading from Valaya's temple: to the north was Karak Drazh (Black Crag), Karak Eight Peaks, to the east was Karak Iron Peak, and to the south was Karak Dragon Cliff, which had long since fallen under the control of the infamous Skullfang tribe.
Black Crag was now destroyed, Dragon Cliff was under Greenskin control, and Iron Peak remained the only southern dwarf stronghold still in dwarven hands. Belegar hesitated but ultimately decided against sending a messenger to Iron Peak for support. He preferred to wait for Iron Peak's Rune Master, Thorek Ironbrow, to arrive at the scheduled time rather than risk a premature request. The dangers of the tunnel network—possible ambushes by Greenskins or Skaven—made it too risky.
Additionally, the location of Valaya's temple was highly secretive. Now that they had a safe haven, Belegar did not want to expose it to their enemies. The army also needed time to rest and recover.
The knightly army was utterly exhausted. It took them two full days of rest before they could recover. Many humans found living in a place without sunlight or open skies uncomfortable, but unlike the elves, humans were adaptable. They were grateful to finally have a safe place to rest.
In a second-floor hall of Valaya's temple, Ryan, Belegar, Karad, Veronica, and the newly promoted dwarf Rune Master Slude were discussing their next steps.
"After our losses, we have only enough food for two months," Ryan said to Belegar. "My initial plan was to secure supply lines after taking Valaya's Sorrow, but now…"
The situation was dire. The tunnel network leading toward Valaya had collapsed, cutting off all supply lines. Not only were supplies severed, but even communication was impossible.
Originally, Veronica could use magic to communicate over long distances, but Valaya's temple was so powerfully enchanted that magic messages couldn't be sent. The rune gates leading to Karak Eight Peaks couldn't be easily opened, and the paths to Black Crag and Dragon Cliff were blocked. Dragon Cliff was in Greenskin hands, and while Black Crag was destroyed, dark creatures still dwelled there.
In short, they were completely isolated.
"There's another issue," Belegar grumbled. "We're out of ammunition. Arrows we can produce. Our forges can handle that. We could also try sending out small teams to chop wood. But bullets and cannonballs… there's no way."
"We used all our bullets and cannonballs at the Battle of Valaya's Gate," Ryan added. He wasn't too worried about communication. His psychic abilities were unaffected by Valaya's divine power, and after some rest, he could contact the Lady of the Lake or Angron. If necessary, Sulia or Morgiana could relay messages. His bigger concern was the lack of bullets and cannonballs.
No matter how advanced the ancient dwarven forge at Valaya's temple was, gunpowder weapons were invented over two thousand years after the city was built. During a siege of Karaz-a-Karak by a massive Greenskin army, dwarven engineers discovered the secret of gunpowder, and with new weapons, they were able to drive the Greenskins back.
Valaya's forge could produce arrows, crossbow bolts, catapults, and ballistae, but not bullets or cannonballs. They lacked both the raw materials and the necessary production lines.
And the expeditionary army had exhausted its ammunition during the previous battles, with only three magical crystal cannonballs left.
The group fell silent, unable to find a solution to this pressing problem.
"How long will it take to repair the equipment and re-equip the army?" Ryan asked, turning the discussion back to the dwarves.
"To do it perfectly? A year," Slude the Honest replied seriously.
"…We'd starve to death by then," Ryan quipped. "I meant the shortest time possible."
"At least three weeks," Slude said, unflinchingly. "The beardlings are still inexperienced. I can't accept anything less than three weeks of work. You know us dwarves don't produce substandard goods, Brother Ryan."
"Three weeks it is, then." Ryan didn't hesitate. "We'll camp here for three weeks."
"Three weeks… Brother Ryan, the dwarves won't have any issues, but for humans, will it be difficult to stay in these caves for that long?" Belegar asked with some concern. "Would you like us to offer any assistance?"
"That won't be necessary," Ryan replied with a wry smile. "What I'm worried about is where we'll get more bullets and cannonballs. Belegar, could we possibly get some supplies from Karak Iron Peak?"
"Heh," Belegar chuckled helplessly. "The King of Iron Peak is Kazador. You've met his nephew, Baernor Dragonhammer, the king of Helm's Deep, haven't you?"
"I have," Ryan said, puzzled.
"Between the two, I'd say Baernor is the more open-minded one." Belegar grumbled. "It took Kazador 500 years to accept the idea of guns and cannons. He only has one regiment of Thunderers and a single cannon crew. All their powder weapons are imported from Karaz-a-Karak or Blackfire Pass. To be honest, if it weren't for that whole debacle with the spirits breaching Iron Peak, it would have taken him a thousand years."
"I see," Ryan sighed, realizing that path was closed as well.
After a bit of casual conversation, the group agreed that three weeks later, they would leave Valaya's temple and head through the tunnel network to the Titan's Gate at Karak Eight Peaks. There, an ancient dwarf outpost called Streamwatch lay. The plan was to launch a surprise attack on the outpost and take control of it before preparing for a full assault on Eight Peaks.
Ryan had some reservations about Belegar's plan. It was unlikely that Skarsnik or Queek Headtaker would be unaware of Streamwatch's importance. But Belegar, after surveying the tunnel network, insisted that the path hadn't been discovered. Moreover, Belegar was an expert in siege warfare and knew Skarsnik well. According to Belegar, Skarsnik was likely consolidating his forces at the Titan's Gate, preparing for a counterattack.
The cunning warlord of Eight Peaks would not give the expeditionary army another chance to engage in open battle.
After exchanging a few more words, the meeting ended. Belegar planned to personally lead a group of dwarf rangers to scout the nearby tunnel exits, ensuring the hidden temple remained undiscovered. Meanwhile, the human forces were tasked with resting and recovering.
Leaving the temple, Ryan walked ahead, with Veronica following behind. Today, the Garland witch was dressed in a soft, pleated ebony silk dress with a collar, her long legs wrapped in black embroidered stockings, and her feet in striking red-soled heels. Her excitement was evident as she eagerly linked arms with Ryan. "Dear, we've made quite a haul this time."
"Yes, quite a haul," Ryan responded with a forced smile, his gaze drifting to the temple's walls, covered in intricate water pipes. Even after thousands of years, the water supply and filtration systems still worked perfectly. "It's an engineering marvel."
"Don't change the subject!" Veronica playfully poked Ryan's forehead with a gloved finger. "I know you're still upset about the losses in this war, aren't you?"
"No victory comes without sacrifice," Ryan glanced at her and sighed. "I know these sacrifices were necessary, but… some of them had followed me for over ten years. Now, all I can do is sign the death notifications and offer their families compensation."
"Without such intense warfare, how could so many have ascended to the Legendary rank? How could you and your army have truly been tempered?" Veronica tried to comfort Ryan in her own way. "For the knightly nobility, it's their duty to fight for the Lady, to protect and destroy evil. For the peasants, the greatest fear isn't dying in battle, but spending their entire lives as serfs. Dear, you didn't send them to their deaths. Even you personally fought on the front lines. What could they possibly complain about?"
"That's quite the argument." Ryan finally smiled, lifting the witch off her feet amidst her surprised squeals. He kissed her deeply. "But tell me, my dear Court Enchantress, how is it that your witch coven didn't suffer any casualties at Valaya's Gate?"
"Oh, don't be like that, dear. Let's talk this over," Veronica pleaded, embarrassed by the onlookers' whispers as she saw some of her apprentice witches and peasants pointing and giggling. Blushing, she softly struggled. "Not here, please."
Ryan set her down, and Veronica pouted, punching him lightly in the chest. "You're shameless!"
Just as Ryan had teased, the Battle of Valaya's Gate had been brutal, but not every part of the battlefield had been equally intense. Some units barely saw action.
Indeed, Veronica's coven and the Unicorn Guard sent by François had been assigned to guard a relatively quiet corner. As all enemy attention had been focused on the key choke points near the gate, the coven and their guards had faced little serious danger, with only a few minor injuries among the soldiers.
As for the heavy casualties among the serf infantry
compared to the knights and the Old Guard, the explanation was simple.
The knights and Old Guard were all heavily armored. The goblins, Skaven slaves, and skeleton warriors they faced lacked armor-piercing capabilities. Though these enemies could drive back the elite troops, they couldn't inflict significant damage.
Most of the serf infantry, however, were lightly armored at best. In battle, they were easily killed.
"The undead won't return, will they?" Veronica asked, still uneasy as she brushed Ryan's bandaged shoulder with concern.
"They won't." Ryan's expression lightened slightly at the mention.
If any faction had suffered the most in this war, it was undoubtedly Neferata and her Silver Peak army. Neferata had retreated with only a handful of Lamian vampires, having lost the elite troops she had amassed over millennia. Gjöll had also been defeated. Ryan wasn't sure how many undead forces remained at Silver Peak, but he was certain it wasn't much. For the foreseeable future, the Blood Queen would have no part in the Old World's affairs.
Ryan thought to himself that Neferata wasn't adept at commanding large-scale battles. She had been too focused on picking off the weaker factions like a bird of prey, failing to keep any reserves. When Kalida's army attacked from behind, Neferata's forces were nearly annihilated.
After a few more words, Ryan and Veronica returned to the king's quarters, where Olica had already instructed the servants to prepare everything, including hot water for a bath.
"Master, let me serve you during your bath," Olica, still pale from overusing her magic, was back in her black-and-white maid outfit. Her smooth legs were clad in sheer white tights, and she wore black stiletto heels. She licked her lips slightly, looking at Ryan with anticipation.
"Alright," Ryan said, pulling Veronica along. "Dear, shall we?"
"Hmph!" Veronica quickly swatted Ryan's hand away, blushing as she hurried off. "I've already bathed today! If you want that, we'll talk tonight!"
"Fine," Ryan chuckled.
...I'm the divider of baths...
After two more days of rest, Ryan's psychic energy had gradually recovered.
He decided to try contacting the Lady of the Lake. In the powerful anti-magic field of Valaya's temple, only Ryan's psychic abilities could reach beyond its confines.
"My Lady… I need your help," Ryan's psychic echo transmitted into the Warp, reaching the Lady of the Lake's divine realm.
"I have always been with you," came the goddess's swift reply, her gentle voice filling Ryan's mind within a minute of his message. "What do you need, my champion?"
"I need you to…"
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