637. Dwarf Envoy

Deep in The Mountains, Forgefire Capital.

The Supreme Council Hall was a domed grand hall carved straight through the entirety of Blackiron Mountain, its four walls inlaid with Runic Molten Fire that had burned since the age of the ancestors and was said never to go out.

At this moment, all four clan seats had been filled.

"Mycelium Puji Fortress?" The chief of the Firebeard Clan stroked that thick beard of his, red as flame, his tone full of contempt. "What kind of lousy name is that? When you get right down to it, aren't they just the remnants of the Demon Race in the Northern Territory who dodged the Cold Wave and huddled together to set up a camp? And that's worthy of being called a power? Worth us sitting here to discuss?"

His burly body leaned back, and the cast-iron chair gave a groan.

The staff-wielding chief of the Zafa Clan was the only woman in the council hall, but the thick, carefully braided beard on her face was enough to ensure that no outsider could tell her sex before she spoke.

She was clearly rather interested in the Fungal Fortress in the Northern Territory. "This time is different. Didn't those mercenaries say that the one ruling that Fungal Fortress is not of the Demon Race, but a member of the Mushroom Race? And Master Marco's handwritten letter stated it clearly: there really are physical examples of ancient Battle Puppets there, as well as some remaining design fragments that can still be analyzed. That alone makes it worth sending people to make contact."

"A stronghold ruled by a mushroom monster—isn't that even more ridiculous?" Firebeard sneered, his beard quivering with it. "Besides, that place is poaching our people from Blacksmith's Corner. How could it be anything good? As