After Al committed that act which was not exactly honorable—at least from the perspective of the Northerners—
For some unknown reason, the Greenskins seemed to actually believe the tribe's rhetoric without demanding any substantial guarantees.
Al, of course, would never let a trace of this negotiation remain to be spread later,
for fear it would shake his carefully crafted persona in the hearts of the Estalians.
The so-called "envoy" sent was actually a magical avatar Al had conjured from the knowledge treasury of the All-Knowing Mother.
After a long period of study and practice, he personally controlled this false puppet into the Greenskin grand tent.
There, he met that mysterious, special Orc Warlord and conducted the first—and perhaps only—King-to-King exchange.
Al could not be certain of the thoughts of that Warlord, who looked no different from an Orc but acted strangely familiar,
almost like someone he could get along with; but the Orc indeed followed through.
Less than half a month after that meeting, the Great Ocean was filled with pirate ships and Greenskin "trash-hulks" that somehow managed to float.
A "thousand-ship fleet" was claimed to have set sail.
On land, a grand army gathered, estimated at two hundred thousand, though they claimed to be six hundred thousand (he wondered who they learned that lie from).
The host marched north along the great roads, with enough momentum to throw their whips into a river to stem its flow and flatten the North.
Only a few tens of thousands were left behind to build a fortress on the ruins of Veling, intended to monitor the Piña Forest.
At the same time, members of the Scholar Council who had snuck into the south brought back intelligence from Magritta:
The Greenskins were forcibly conscripting human laborers to transport supplies to Magus and Veling while building forward bases.
Once the main army departed, some of these unlucky humans followed the host, and some were allowed to return.
However, a portion was kept for local training; the Greenskins gave them weapons and organized them into puppet armies to garrison various regions.
Now, the "Regular Traitor Army" had arrived...
Al had no intention of leaving the forest to poke the Greenskins' ass for the time being.
It was better to stay AFK [away from keyboard] in the forest and develop, letting the others fight to the death.
Nearly three months had passed since the negotiation and the Greenskins' northern march.
Every day, Al buried himself in administrative work.
The boy forced himself to reverse his old attitude of "getting fired up when things happen, but lying like mud when they don't."
He piled work upon himself—suffer a little now so he could have orgies later; slack off now, and someone else might be having an orgy with him later.
He managed every detail; even decisions on expanding hunting grounds, applying for tools, or reclaiming planting areas required his personal nod.
Misha was delighted by her Little Father's sudden diligence and high energy.
She arrived at Al's palace every day with her scribes and deputies to process affairs, thoroughly enjoying the process.
However, after the Triumphal Procession, Barbatos reverted to her thrill-seeker routine.
She was only slightly more reliable than before; her legion remained a happy-go-lucky group of fun-seekers with the best atmosphere and inclusivity.
The strategy of using scions as a core to assign soldiers and civilians for outward expansion was very successful.
Al simply lifted the restrictions on population movement between the main camp and the outposts.
He sent five hundred Beastmen and four thousand refugees to each of the four scions' legions for absorption.
Of course, if given the choice, most people preferred to stay in the crowded main camp.
Many remembered the famine crisis, where the further one was from Al—the harder it was for the tribe to exert influence—the worse the situation became.
The hustle and bustle of the capital was better than reclaiming the remote wilds.
As for the Beastmen, they naturally preferred to follow and serve the Everchosen directly under his jurisdiction rather than the scions.
In this regard, only Barbatos and Misha fared slightly better, using their unique charisma to attract followers.
A thick mist shrouded the entire Piña Forest, yet those within it could not feel it.
Only upon leaving the tribal activity zones and entering the deep woods could one intuitively feel the density of the fog.
Piña was now isolated from the world.
Without the guidance of the northern outposts and scouts, the four diplomatic missions sent by the Northerners would have all been lost in this miraculous mist.
Their purpose, of course, was to beg the tribe to deploy troops.
The news of the Greenskins' crushing defeat and the loss of fifty thousand vanguard troops in Piña had truly invigorated the Estalians.
They sent three missions in a row to celebrate and deliver gifts and supplies, which Al naturally accepted with a smile.
He even awarded medals and rewards to the men of the Vanguard Legion, but he didn't allow them to return north.
Half a month later, the Estalians were shocked again by the news that the Greenskin main force was ignoring the tribal threat on their flank.
Treating the Piña Forest as if it didn't exist, the Orcs marched straight north with ferocious momentum.
The pirate fleets never stopped harassing the northern coast, forcing the Estalians to again ban sea travel and evacuate the coast.
The direct consequence was a landing by pirates, Greenskins, and driven human slaves at a hidden bay.
After a week of building simple infrastructure, they were finally discovered by Demontrei outriders—by then, over twenty thousand Greenskins were already sharpening their blades there.
The Greenskin military strength terrified the Northerners!
Gorkamorka Wyvern was learning from human methods: Intimidation through overwhelming presence.
Before doing anything, scream loudly—it doesn't matter if you succeed, as long as you're loud.
They raised countless banners, parading through the streets with an army they claimed to be six hundred thousand strong.
He even intentionally let some slaves escape while spreading rumors through the pirate intelligence network.
"The Great Warlord of the South is coming north with six hundred thousand terrifying Orc Big 'Uns! They have conquered Magritta! The Pearl of the South has submitted!"
He spread panic to destroy morale.
Since even the Warlord himself didn't have an exact count of his troops, his own Greenskins believed they actually had six hundred thousand "Good Boyz."
Outsiders had no chance of figuring out the true numbers.
Of course, a force of six hundred thousand had never appeared in the Southern Kingdom; it was certainly an exaggeration.
But even if cut in half to three hundred thousand, it was a terrifying scale.
With the line at Magus-Veling, the remaining un-fallen Estalian territory—the "Northern Region"—had a population of about two million, including refugees.
Three hundred thousand Greenskins meant a ratio of nearly one to ten.
For the Estalians, who had just over one hundred thousand combat-ready troops (mostly militia) after constant mobilization, this was a nightmare.