The Dwarf King stood atop the gatehouse of the underground fortress, studying the distant map as his finger traced a line across it.
He had originally intended to send troops as soon as the worlds finished merging, but after learning of the orcs' movements, he hesitated and did not give the order.
"Three hundred million orcs. Our Dwarf Kingdom has only twenty million soldiers in total. If we clash with the orc army, we will not even be enough to fill the gaps between their teeth."
He turned to look at the general behind him.
"Pass down the order. Gather every vessel in the kingdom. Send some out to sea first to survey the coastline and see whether that other world's continent has any large islands or ports suitable for landing. Keep the remaining ships on standby, ready to invade by water at any time."
The general acknowledged the order and turned to run out.
The Dwarf King remained atop the gatehouse, staring silently in the direction of the long, narrow strip of land on the map in his hand.
Since the land route would not work, they would try the sea.
The Dwarf race's ironclad warships were renowned throughout the world. They were more than capable of crossing the sea and conquering that other world.
In the wilderness of the Northern Territory of the Source Realm, several scattered wild goblins crouched beside the entrance to their cave, looking up at the sky.
The sky had returned to its normal blue, and the reflection was nowhere to be seen.
Yet their ears could hear sounds coming from afar. The earth was trembling, as though many things were moving this way.
They did not know it was an orc army, nor did they know where that army was headed.
But they