Book 9, 84
However, that was easier said than done. Done with his war against the reapers, Richard had bolstered the Deepblue’s defences greatly. Even if the Far North sent ten full regiments, they wouldn’t return alive. This fleet had two to three regiments at best, at which scale they would simply be walking to their own graves.
“Let’s have a bet! How many hits do you think my baby will take to sink one of those metal shells?” Blackgold suddenly exclaimed.
“Won’t sink anything.” “I bet your baby will explode in three shots.” “I bet one.”
“YOU...”
“Blackie, you numberdumb! You’re still alive?” a clear voice resounded from the fleet, interrupting Blackgold’s rage. The grey dwarf’s expression warped strangely in response, but he ran to the edge of the platform and stared down at the bridge of the flagship to find a familiar face.
“Stormhammer! Why don’t you just sit in your cave and look for honest work forging metal? Are you sick of life?” Blackgold shouted at the face that resembled his own.
Stormhammer laughed, “I came to see you. I heard that you’re muddling along in the Deepblue, and you’re even a treasurer? To think you were the same kid that couldn’t tell the numbers apart, what hammer made you smart? Anyway, have you seen these babies under me? They’re my masterpieces, how are they? Leave the Deepblue and come back before your masters find out how many mistakes you make in your accounting, or they might just feed you to the sharks.”
Stormhammer spoke so quickly that Blackgold was left confounded, not knowing where to begin his response. However, the other grand mages took this as a sign of acquiescence instead. The treasurer of the Deepblue had been a failure at mathematics!
The gun maniac quickly recovered, but rage clouded his face as he jumped up and down, "I’ll show you my baby’s power! Prepare to fire, aim at... Left, right... whatever, aim at anything but the flagship!"
The moment Blackgold started screaming out orders, the others retreated to the other corner of the terrace. The fanatic had been trying to combine dwarven gunpowder with the reaper energy cores for a while now, and after initial successes be had immediately decided to go as big as he could. He called his new design the megacannon, but every test run had simply blown up his laboratory.
A hand suddenly patted Blackgold’s shoulder, deep voice rumbling out beside him, "If that baby of yours really sinks one of His Grace’s warships, I think you’ll have to work your entire life to repay him."
The grey dwarf turned around in shock, finding Ironshield standing behind him. This legendary warrior was almost as famous as Richard’s original followers now, and having proven his loyalty though the war with the reapers he had a position of trust that many envied. However, it wasn’t the man’s presence that shocked Blackgold, "This fleet is Richard’s? Then why is the Frozen Court’s flag flying there, and why are they in formation?"
Ironshield flashed a sinister smile, "Because some brats don’t know their places and want to stir things up. There aren’t any more idiots in the three empires, but the others might not be convinced just yet. Just leave this to me."
"No! I mean, Your Excellency... that one duergar there is my brother, Stormhammer. He doesn’t know anything but forging, he definitely isn’t the one commanding this fleet. Please..."
"Stormhammer, huh... Alright, I’ll see to it." Ironshield leapt off the platform and flew towards the ships, his aura frightening most of the duergar and orcish cannoneers into aiming right at him. However, he ignored them and called out, "Whoever is in charge here, get the hell out!"
A large orc walked out onto the deck and floated up, "My name is Bladefury."
Ironshield looked down at the sain and smiled, "His Grace ordered this fleet from the Shadow King, it isn’t a toy for you to play with. Do you think you could afford to even repair the damages to a single one? I could sell your entire tribe into slavery and make less!"
Bladefury immediately bared his fangs, "How dare you?!"
"How dare I? Did the Shadow King tell you to fly the Frozen Court’s flag all the way here? Did he tell you to approach in battle formation? Did he tell you to aim your cannons at the Deepblue? Or maybe it was you that did it."
The questions left Bladefury stunned for a moment, but the orc then puffed his chest out, "Does it make a difference?"
"Of course. His Grace mentioned that the transfer could be a little rocky, and he gave me full authority to kill whoever made trouble. If the Shadow King was the one who ordered it, then, His Grace will go destroy his life."
"HOW DARE YOU RIDICULE HIS MAJESTY?"
"Ridicule?" Ironshield burst into booming laughter that resounded through the bay, the force behind it shattering the orc’s eardrums, "Your king is only a legend, and he hasn’t fought a battle in decades. Even I can take care of him!"
Bladefury suddenly started swaying before crashing down onto the deck, his guards rushing over only to find he wasn’t breathing. Everyone on board froze up in shock.
Ironshield coldly surveyed the fear-stricken fleet below, "Proceed with the transfer, and don’t you dare damage His Grace’s battleships!"
Stormhammer stared at Bladefury’s corpse for a moment before turning to Ironshield and shouting, "You actually killed him! Aren’t you afraid of... war?"
The grey dwarf suddenly felt immense pressure on him as Ironshield stared him in the eye, feeling like he was being crushed by a mountain. He was nearly forced to the ground, but he gritted his teeth and pushed against his creaking bones to stay up.
The legendary warrior nodded, withdrawing his aura immediately, “Not bad. Courageous, not stupid, and much stronger than the stupid orc. Here’s some information, for your brother’s sake. His Grace has no time to deal with the Far North, but if your court wants to dig its own grave, he won’t mind disposing of your parliament building.”
“But... we have powerful legends...”
“Like the Shadow King? With his power, he would be ranked number ten if he wanted to follow His Grace. There are a total of nine legendary powerhouses in front of him already... Actually, no, it should be eleventh. There’s a saint he won’t be able to defeat.”
The grey dwarf was rendered speechless by this response.