Barash slowly turned around, his expression becoming unusually serious.
He didn't answer immediately, but stared at Helsen with his sharp eyes, as if trying to determine if there was a deeper intention behind the question.
After a moment, he slowly spoke, his voice low and firm:
"If the Stonemasons Clan only suffers defeats on the battlefield—assuming you humans can actually do that—then we will not interfere."
He paused, then his tone suddenly became more serious:
"But if you dare to trespass into the heart of the dwarves' territory, destroy our homes, and harm our people…" His gaze was as cold as a blade, "then you will not only be facing the Stonemasons' clan, but the wrath of all thirteen dwarven clans."
He spoke slowly and clearly, each word like the sound of a hammer striking an anvil:
"That is war! A war you cannot afford! Humans, I hope your lord will take my warning seriously!"
Having said that, he seemed unwilling to say anything more, turned and strode towards the depths of the hall.
Helsen gazed in the direction Barash had gone, knowing that those words had left a mark on his mind.
He immediately caught up with her and added sincerely:
"Mr. Barash, Marquis Gleyman does not wish to go to war with the dwarves. We hope to resolve the issue through communication as much as possible—provided that we can reach the leaders of the Stonemasons Clan."
Barash stopped and looked back at him. His expression was no longer as angry as before, but rather more thoughtful and cautious.
After a brief silence.
"I will… consider it," he finally said, "but not now."
After saying that, he gestured to the guard at the door: "Arrange a place for him to stay and let him rest first."
Helson nodded slightly and did not ask any further questions. He knew he had said what he needed to say, and the rest was up to the other party to make a decision.
Night had fallen outside the window. In a stone chamber deep within Fireforge, Barash summoned several elders of the clan.
The hall was dimly lit, with only the central brazier illuminating the serious faces of the attendees.
"He said they didn't want to fight," Barash began, "but they wanted to see the stonemason clan and wanted us to act as intermediaries."
An older dwarf frowned, his voice low and displeased: "To see the Stonemasons Clan? Why should we wade into this mess for the sake of humans?"
He paused, his tone clearly wary: "Who knows what other ulterior motives they might have?"
Another older dwarf spoke slowly, with a hint of contemplation:
"If, as he says, the Stonemasons' clan has indeed broken the principle of neutrality and helped the orcs invade humanity… then it's not unreasonable for them to want to enter Mount Loki."
He glanced at the other elders: "We cannot deny that the Stonemasons Clan did something they shouldn't have done first. If they really opened the passage, then they shouldn't blame others for coming to them."
This remark sparked a murmur of discussion in the hall. Another elderly man with white hair and beard snorted coldly, his tone full of disdain:
"That's just one side of the story from humans. How do you know they're not using this as a pretext to investigate the dwarf race?"
"Humans are never satisfied with the land they have. They've already taken over the three northern regions, and the forest orcs have submitted to them. Now, they say they want to go into the mountains—who knows what they'll want next?"
"But what if the stonemason clan really did such a thing?" the elder retorted, not to be outdone. "Would they just let them drag all the dwarves to the opposite side of humanity?"
The hall erupted into a debate.
Barash sat in the main seat, listening to the speeches of both sides without showing any emotion on his face. He knew this was not a simple decision.
...
While Helson was on his mission to the Ironhammer Clan, Abar's main orc force had already returned to the grasslands.
They carried the weariness of war and the anger of defeat. This army had once stirred up a storm in the Kingdom of Aldor, but was ultimately repelled by humans, and is now trying to regroup.
Meanwhile, Andrew's expeditionary force had seized control of five major water sources in the western part of the steppe.
These locations, scattered across vast grasslands, were the lifeline for the orc tribes. Since their capture, the expeditionary force has deployed troops at each point and established initial supply lines.
But intelligence soon arrived—a large number of orc cavalry were advancing rapidly from the east, large enough to threaten any isolated stronghold.
Faced with this situation, Andrew quickly made a decision: abandon four of the water sources and concentrate all his forces on Blackwater Lake at the westernmost point.
Blackwater Lake was the first stronghold captured by the expeditionary force and also the most heavily fortified. Fortresses and watchtowers built with bricks and stones were constructed on the lake shore. It was also the closest to the three northern locations, making it easy to obtain supplies and support from the rear.
When the order was given, many generals expressed their confusion. They believed that troops should be divided and held to prevent the orcs from easily regaining the initiative.
But Andrew did not convene a war council, nor did he offer much explanation; he simply issued orders and later briefly explained his judgment:
"This war will not end in a single battle. Our mission is not to occupy land, but to maintain our presence. We must let Abar know that whatever he wants to do, he will have to be distracted by us."
In the final days before the orcish army arrived, the garrisons at the four outposts withdrew in an orderly fashion, all movable supplies were salvaged, and facilities that could not be taken were burned or destroyed. When the orc cavalry arrived, they found only scorched earth and empty land.
At Blackwater Lake, the expeditionary force had completed its assembly and established a new defensive line relying on the lake and fortifications.
When the expeditionary force first entered the western steppes, many local tribes showed strong resistance.
These tribes have been nomadic here for generations, and apart from the royal tent of the White Wolf Clan, they have never been ruled by any other outsiders. They regard the expeditionary force as invaders and have even organized attacks of varying sizes.
But their resistance was quickly crushed. The Austrian army was well-equipped and well-organized, and faced almost no real threat from the scattered and uncoordinated primitive tribal forces.
At this time, the royal tent was still located south of the Rocky Mountains, and Abar had not yet returned. The power vacuum in the western steppe left these small tribes isolated and helpless. They had neither a unified leader nor sufficient strength to resist the advance of the expeditionary force.
In order to continue to survive on the grasslands, they had to accept the administration of the expeditionary force, especially after the water sources were controlled.
At first they thought it would be a heavy oppression, but they soon discovered that the way humans ruled was completely different from that of the Orcish King's Tent.