Chapter 445.
Chapter 445 – Stimulating the General
“Bah!”
Imar spat heavily.
“How dare I, the titular Imar Stonecutter, be reduced to dealing with dirty, stupid orcs in person.”
His stomach bulged as if filled with resentment, and even the whisker dreadlocks on his chin twitched.
“Clan Stonemason, sooner or later your king will return to the throne and take back the power he was meant to hold, and when he does, all those betrayers will be duly punished.”
Imar kept betting and swearing, swearing by his family name, swearing by his hammer, and even swearing by his beloved beard.
He accompanied this state of affairs all the way to the cabin he had been told about by Barash, pushed the door open roughly, and said grumpily, “Gunther, you guys have …… another hmmm, who are you? Where’s Gunther?”
The house was rather simply furnished, a modest wooden table and four stools made of round wood were all the furnishings.
But there was no son of the chief of the Blood Bull tribe that he was looking for.
Sitting next to the wooden table was an unfamiliar old orc, as well as two equally unfamiliar young orcs standing behind him.
The old orc stared at him, seemingly scrutinizing him.
Imar was uncomfortable by his look, and he coughed and said, “Gentlemen, I seem to have entered the wrong room, sorry.”
After saying that, he was about to turn around and leave.
“No, you’re not in the wrong house. Young leader of the Stonemason Clan.”
The old orc’s words sent a jolt through Immael’s body.
“How do you know ……”
“Haha! You dwarves can’t seem to keep any secrets other than how to get into the mountains, especially after drinking.” The old orc revealed a wry smile.
Damn! Three more people in the world laughing at me, Imar thought darkly. No, maybe a whole bunch of green-skinned shaggy pups?
Orcs, those savages, are even less reliable than dwarves when it comes to keeping secrets, not to mention that they don’t keep other people’s secrets as secrets at all. They’re rude, uneducated, and like to make fun of other people’s pain.
Perhaps their stories have already been sung across the steppes?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” He was going to play dumb. Dwarves and orcs didn’t live together, so these barbarians could say whatever they wanted.
But it seemed a little late.
“Imar, you are the eldest son of the former patriarch of the Stonemason Clan. But because you disobeyed your own father, you were driven out of the Stonemason Clan and had to cross the mountains to join the Hammer Tribe near here, am I right?”
The old orc’s words stuck into Imar’s heart like a knife, and his beard along with the whisker braid on it almost swelled up. The muscles on his arms bulged high, and his fingers clenched into fists grated.
“Hell, now I’m sorry I didn’t bring a hammer or an axe in here to open up your bald old brain, which must hold something the size of a peach kernel of some unknown substance.”
The two young orcs looked at each other and smiled contemptuously, not moving their feet a step, which made Imar’s heart burn even brighter.
“Oh, poor Imar. You should learn to respect those older than you.” The old orc’s eyes held pity, “But I forgive you because I sympathize with you. I know that what you have suffered is not a simple banishment, you are forbidden to set foot in your clan’s territory for life. You have been disinherited, and when the one you honor as your father lives on, the one who will sit in the patriarch’s seat will be your brother.”
“That is not my brother!” Imar yelled, irritated. “It’s just a dirty lump of dirt that I picked up from some ravine I don’t know where.”
“Oh, poor Imar.” The old orc spoke cruelly in a compassionate tone, “No amount of shouting from you here will change the truth. What you are now is nothing more than a loser who lives off the backs of his relatives and spends his days mired in drink and false delusions of grandeur.”
“You!” Dwarf Imar glazed over.
Eugene gently clapped his hands, “The Hammer Tribe’s arrangement of waste is reasonable, haha! Look, weren’t you sent here to deal with their pesky Gunther? Barash is such a good cousin to you.”
“It’s none of Barash’s or Hammer’s business.”
“What a generous man you are, ‘Your Royal Highness’. If I may venture to ask, have they sent a single soldier to help you home so far? Have they sent a single soldier to help you reclaim your inheritance?”
Imar said impatiently, “Clans are not supposed to interfere with each other.”
“Oh, even if you are their blood relative. The lack of kinship among you dwarves is truly beyond the imagination of us crude orcs! Look ah, your own father treats you like this, and so do your uncles and cousins.” Eugene exclaimed in exaggerated amazement.
“Enough!”
Imar’s patience reached its limit, and his usual aggression, resentment, and anger abruptly bubbled up all at once, the negativity quickly clenching his entire heart tightly.
The dwarf surged towards the old orc like a maddened bull, and his speed was so fast that even the two young orcs standing behind Eugene could not react in time.
Imar clutched the orc’s fur clothing with both hands, the immense force of which allowed him to yank the other man out of his seat with just one hand.
Because of his height, at the moment Eugene was dragged across the floor with his legs curled up.
Eugene’s two guards angrily drew their respective weapons, one holding a dagger and the other brandishing a nailed hammer, yelling at the dwarf to let go of Eugene or let the unknowing dwarf walk out of the house.
“Stand down!”
Eugene waved his hand to dismiss his men, and the two young orcs dropped their hands and took a step back, but still stared at Imar with a look of indignation.
Eugene’s face was a little flushed, and his breath was a little disorganized, as if Imar’s sudden action also made it very unexpected. Was the son of a clan leader so impulsive?
Imar looked at Eugene with a gaze of anger that was as if substantial, “I know you are stirring up trouble, you bastards who are both nasty and disgusting, shaggy bastards who do not abstain from goats and horses, do you think that the great Imar can’t see your clumsy tricks?”
“Calm down! Young patriarch of the Stonemason Tribe.” Eugene had no doubt that if he irritated the other party any further, those large powerful hands would snap his neck without hesitation.
Although the dwarves were only up to the waist of the orcs, their strength was no less than that of the orcs, and Eugene didn’t dare to be careless.
“The reason I came to you is not to stir up trouble. What I want to say is ……”
Imar’s stared as if they were bronze bells.
“What the Stonehammer Tribe can’t give you, the King’s Tent of the Savannah can give you, and the Great Chief Abal can give you!”
(End of chapter)