But the boys prefer to call it the " Throne of Gluttony ".
It was a marching pot, over ten meters in diameter and made of several centimeters thick Adamantium, welded onto a heavy mech with four thick legs.
A pot of stew was bubbling away, the brown broth swirling and releasing a rich aroma of meat and spices.
A dozen nimble Gretchin climbed up and down the mecha, taking turns scooping up the stew with a huge copper ladle.
After it cools down, pour it into Ragnar's perpetually open mouth.
Ragnar sat right behind the large pot, forever guarding this pot that simmered the most delicious stew.
He was a veritable ball of flesh, four meters tall and roughly four meters wide, with thick layers of fat bulging his armor.
His shiny, bloated stomach dangled down to his knees; Toothy guessed he hadn't seen his feet in a long time.
He wore a Viking horned hat stained with grease, with small, fierce eyes under the brim, and a few drops of stew broth still clinging to his chin.
He eats from morning till night.
Toothy stood in the hall for a full half hour, while Ragnar's mouth never stopped.
Spoon after spoonful of braised meat was poured into his mouth, making even chewing seem superfluous.
Yet this seemingly gluttonous fat man exudes a suffocating sense of oppression.
It was the aura of a tyrant, forged through thousands of battles, the devouring of countless enemies, and the accumulation of mountains of corpses and seas of blood.
It was larger than Chandler piloting the Gargant Mech, and more ferocious than Sith surging with Psychic Power.
Toothy's legs trembled uncontrollably, and she almost collapsed to her knees.
The Hokage boys behind him were even more pathetic, each with their heads down, not daring to even breathe loudly.
" Goffs good!"
Ragnar finally swallowed a large spoonful of stew and let out a loud burp that shook the ceiling.
He raised his head, his small eyes sweeping over Toothy and his group, his voice echoing in the hall like muffled thunder:
"Tell me, which clan are you from? What exactly happened with Carl II?"
Toothy's heart skipped a beat.
wrong.
Why was the clan the first question?
Normally, shouldn't we first ask about the situation of Carl II?
A terrifying thought flashed through his mind in an instant.
Could it be that the other party knows about the Hokage Clan?
His back was instantly soaked with cold sweat. Toothy forced himself to remain calm, bowed deeply, and his voice trembled just the right amount:
"Boss... Boss! We are from the Blood Axe Clan."
"They were fighting on the edge of the space station when they overheard news of the Sith leader and Chandler's duel."
"I heard that the Sith leader suspects Chandler of plotting against you, so he formed his own faction."
"As a result, Chandler concluded that the Sith leader wanted to usurp the throne, so a war broke out, and many people died on both sides!"
"Finally, those despicable bastards seized the opportunity to launch a sneak attack on Carl II, and both the Sith leader and Chandler were killed!"
"We risked our lives to escape just to deliver this message to you: Carl II is gone."
A statement that is half true and half false is the easiest to believe.
Aside from concealing his true identity and sowing discord, everything else is true.
Toothy lowered her head, not daring to look Ragnar in the eye, her heart pounding like a drum.
"How did the Sith and Chandler die?" Ragnar asked after a while.
"I... I don't know either..." Toothy stammered in response.
The existence of Rena Great Dahan is indeed somewhat outrageous. Who would believe that two such powerful leaders of the Orks Warboss be killed by an insect of unknown origin?
Moreover, those events all occurred in the core area, which contradicts the self-positioning he had just established.
Therefore, it's reasonable that he was unaware of it.
The hall fell silent instantly.
All the noise disappeared, leaving only the bubbling sound of the stew in the big pot.
Ragnar stopped eating.
His small eyes narrowed into slits as he stared intently at Toothy.
The immense pressure felt like a mountain crushing down on Toothy, making it difficult for her to even breathe.
A full minute passed before Ragnar slowly spoke, his voice revealing neither joy nor anger:
"Knew."
"Someone, take them to eat and find them a place to settle down."
"Yes, boss!" a guy named Goffs replied, waving at Toothy.
"Come with me."
Toothy felt as if he had been granted a pardon and hurriedly led his men away from the hall as if fleeing.
Only after stepping out of the palace and breathing in the fresh air did his legs give way, and he collapsed to the ground, panting heavily.
Those ten minutes were more thrilling than any battle he had ever experienced in his life.
Toothy left, a shifty-eyed Gretchin quickly climbed onto the mech and whispered in Ragnar's ear:
"Boss, these guys are definitely up to something!"
" The Blood Axe Clan would never be so kind as to reveal important information without offering any benefit in return."
"And they smelled weird, not like Blood Axes at all!"
Ragnar picked up a whole roasted Squig, took a big bite, and oil dripped down his chin onto the floor.
He mumbled, "Nonsense, of course I know there's a problem."
"Their scent doesn't belong to any particular clan."
"Then why don't you arrest them and interrogate them?" the Gretchin asked suspiciously.
"Torture?" Ragnar grinned, revealing a set of gleaming yellow fangs.
"Torture is pointless, and he didn't lie to me much. Keeping them around might still be useful."
He scratched his enormous belly, a glint of shrewdness flashing in his eyes.
Considering the Psychic Power warning sent by the Sith some time ago, the fall of Carl II is undeniable.
" The Hokage Clan..." Ragnar murmured the name, "Interesting."
He slammed the Squig bone in his hand to the ground and roared outside:
"Pass on my order: all the able-bodied youngsters, assemble immediately!"
"We'll set off for Carl II first thing tomorrow morning!"
"I want to see for myself what's going on, then I'll chop all those shrimp into minced meat and boil them into a stew!"
"Waaaagh!!!"
The entire palace instantly erupted in excitement.
Countless Ork Boyz happily raised their weapons and roared with excitement.
The intense Waaagh! Field made the green of this planet even more profound.
The next day at dawn.
A Dorito Orks fleet has already amassed along Dorido's orbit, blotting out the sky.
Thousands of all kinds of scrap metal spaceships were densely packed together, including huge meteorites and small, agile fighter jets.
There are also various warships that Power of Belief.
Although every ship was dilapidated and billowing black smoke, their fearless spirit was enough to make any Imperial Fleet think twice.
At Ragnar's command, countless engines roared to life, spewing out thick black smoke.
The massive Orks fleet departed Dorito orbit and sailed majestically toward Carl II.