"You caused me to lose a second-level ship, and now you give me a third-level ship?"
The witch said without any expression on her face.
"Don't get me wrong, this is not a return. You and the boat belong to me."
Eski's shrill whisper in his ear hit Orillon's heart like a whip.
Yes, Eski is right, she is a slave, a slave without even a soul.
Other slaves have the option of suicide, but she doesn't even have this option.
"Druqis, go to the sea and continue to plunder, plunder all the wealth and slaves for me."
The engineer warlock said to the surrounding elven slave pirates, and the elven Druzil hissed in the rat man's vocal cords.
After thinking about it, the white-haired rat said with some worry.
"Avoid your fleet and don't sink my ship."
The elves nodded expressionlessly, and the attitude shown deep in their eyes was naturally not good.
Of course they heard what the engineering warlock said just now.
The formerly aloof witches are also soulless slaves, and of course they have no hope of breaking free.
Although it is said that dark elves have unspoken rules of obeying the strong, this is for elves.
To the Druchi, all non-elven races are nothing more than beasts.
These feelings of self-loathing do not arouse the sympathy of the Warlock Engineer, who knows very well what elves are.
According to the Rat Man, he is not just a giggling brat.
Looking back, Eski observed the slave rats being whipped by the clan rats with whips made from the scaly tails of the wererats.
The brand on the back attracted the attention of the engineering warlock.
As if he had remembered something, the engineering warlock used his four claws at the same time and quickly climbed to the helm of the rear class A.
Here stands a large brass bell that was just moved to the ship.
Eski jumped on the big bell and used his own weight to shake it, and the piercing sound of the bell could be heard throughout the port.
This is the gathering signal that was just established in the past few hours.
Every rat who hears it will assemble on the deck within fifteen minutes.
Rats with greasy hair and tattered clothes scurried over quickly.
The rats who came over all looked at the rat swinging on the big clock in confusion. Obviously, now is not the time to eat.
The engineering warlock took in their expressions and his eyes fell on their clothes.
It was the same color, the color of the Scurvy clan, not the white of the Skryre clan.
The engineering warlock spoke.
"You are clan rats of the Scurvy clan and have never joined the Skryre clan."
Seeing that all the clan rats looked over, the engineer warlock climbed onto the bracket at the top of the big clock and took off a glass bottle from his waist so that everyone on the ship could see it.
Inside is a shimmering green potion, not the kind of green that rat people are accustomed to. Even without a mage's second vision, one can still feel the vigorous vitality in it.
"This is a medicine that can cure scurvy. I will sell them to the scurvy clan for twenty-dimensional coins a bottle."
"And the clan rats of my clan will get a quota of one bottle every year."
The rats below were in an uproar. Although the engineering warlocks like to exaggerate the prices of their products, as long as the real price reaches one-tenth of what the engineering warlocks say, then all the rats will receive a reward that is approximately several times their own worth.
And, it’s every year.
The limited supply of medicine can guarantee that a rat will not suffer from scurvy within a month.
Of course, this cannot guarantee that every rat will be cured of scurvy, but it can guarantee his competition and loyalty.
Rats must have a class, a strict class, in order to satisfy the desires of rat people. Every rat yearns for a slave who can let him vent at will.
There is a perfect class division between sick and non-sick rats. Eski looked at the rats with shining eyes below and smiled gloomily.
"Then, all slave rats will be promoted to clan rats, and you will be loyal to my slaves from now on."
As he spoke, Eski grabbed the chain around the witch's neck and pointed at the still-glowing runes on the collar.
This is a brand new collar, both in thickness and material, it is lighter than the previous one, and the runes on it give it the function of eternal cleansing.
There are no longer the runes of the Skryre clan on it, but the glowing letters "IE".
Letters emitting bright green light are engraved on the silver-white base, which is completely different from the green color of the Rat Man's Destruction Rune.
“Seeing this collar feels like I’m here in person.”
The engineer warlock said, pointing to the new creation.
"Okay, that's it, you will be incorporated into my command. Tomorrow, you will throw away this red clothes and put on the white clothes of my clan."
The rat people chatted with the engineer warlock for a while and then dispersed to complete their work.
Although Orilon couldn't understand the rat language, he understood the general meaning from Esky's disgusting actions just now.
"You want me to use them? None of them know Druzil."
The witch asked, her tone extremely resistant. These smelly beasts are not qualified to be with the noble witches of Grond.
Even Eski is just a lucky rat. One day...
"Use it as you wish. Just give this thing away. If I have enough dimension stones, none of them will survive."
Esky ignored the malice in the witch's mood and continued.
This is true. If he had enough warpstone, he would buy a group of slave rats for sailing instead of using the dangerous original scurvy.
Then, he continued to speak.
"I need a lot of harpies."
And was immediately refuted by the witch.
"That requires a beast tamer. They are actually a type of beastman. You don't know that."
The white-haired engineer warlock recalled the description of the harpy, and it was indeed as the elves said, they were the sons of chaos, a type of beastman.
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Thinking of this, Esky waved his hands and said.
"Let's not talk about the rumors that the harpy is an ally with you. If you need a beast tamer, go back to your compatriots and find a beast tamer for me."
"Give his soul to you again?"
The witch's tone was close to provocation.
Eski narrowed his eyes. It was not that he was unaware of the witch's malicious intent, but that the witch's profession was very precious.
It can be said that a hundred dark elves are not worth as much as this witch.
It is always easy to destroy, but always difficult to build.
But, should there be punishment?
Eski understood that when the witch built that altar today, in addition to remembering her past, she was also digging a hole for herself.
No race can accept the existence of an alien altar in its heartland.
"Do you think I would do this? Even if my soul is in your hands."
The witch continued as if she didn't notice.
It’s just that the engineering warlock’s good looks no longer exist.
"I know the style of you Grond bitches (Blessed by Slaanesh), and I know you will."
Esky tilted his head, approached the elf, and hissed out one word after another.
"Before my patience runs out and I burn your soul, bring me my trainer and the harpy. This is the master's order to the slave."
As he said that, Eskidu's hand lit up with a green light and he said again.
"This is the punishment for your disrespect just now, concept conception!"
A burst of green light flashed, and a rich emerald magical wind appeared under the elf's belly. It was the wind of Ji Lun, or the power of the wind of life.
The power of the spell does not disappear after the spell ends. The witch's second vision is very keen. On rare occasions, she can still see the future in Grond's chaotic storm.
Orilon immediately discovered that she seemed to have established a connection with all things in the world, and the energy of the wind of life poured into her lower abdomen continuously, but she did not feel the energy strengthening.
"What did you do?"
The witch asked, she could not guess that the dark elves also have similar spells, but...
The engineer's answer immediately shattered her luck.
"With the spell of the wind of life, any life that can be fertilized will be conceived under this spell and give birth to the child in a very short time compared to the normal pregnancy period."
The white rat's eyes showed a cold look.
This spell, recorded in the Nine Scrolls of Tzeentch, is a modification of the "Spring Warm Flowers Bloom" spell.
"Give birth to this child as proof of your loyalty, then I will not burn your soul within two years."
After saying that, Esky walked towards the second-level cage without looking back.
The former followers of Slaanesh are imprisoned underground.
They were all hung on chains in the cage, and Mobrier was particularly miserable.
Mobrier, whose legs were amputated, was hanging in the air. Even the amputation opening had been burned to death with a red-hot iron plate.
The palms of the two claws were also fixed on both sides by spiked iron chains.
If he hadn't been fed regularly every day, Esky would have suspected that this place was a dead Skaven.
"Mobrier, your master needs you again. He forgot to take out your soul last time. Is your soul still in his hands?"
The white rat spoke, but the former secretary didn't respond.
The engineer warlock immediately took action and began to extract the soul of this Slaanesh disciple.
Not long after, a complete rat-man soul that had mutated into the shape of Slaanesh appeared in the cage.
Eski raised his eyebrows and said.
"It's still there, so, my slave, please continue to control the wind of metal for me."
Eski said, regardless of whether Mobrier answered or not, he put his paw up and opened the cage.
Carrying the former secretary on his shoulders, Esky walked towards the new territory under the tunnel.
Not long after, Mobrier, who had retained one of his right paws, was carried on a sedan by the slave rats to view the goods in the warehouse - several piles of metal ore.
"Without your magic ability, I would need to build a temporary forging factory here."
The engineering warlock spoke and handed the scribe a stick inlaid with dimension stone on his intact and twisted purple right claw.
This is enough for the scribe to channel the dimensional energy in the air.
The white-haired engineer warlock thought.
"Dear master, of course, I will do it."
The former clerk's voice was indescribably charming. Eski turned his head and stopped staring at the rat face that had become neutral to avoid further stimulation.
Just listen, Mobrier continued.
"The wind of metal is the magic of change, logic, and creation. It omits the process of forging. In fact, any mage who understands the structure of metal can do it. It just takes a long time."
The charming voice seemed to be questioning his master.
Why don't you do it?
"I don't know anything about austenite, pearlite or the like. There is no such knowledge in Skaven Castle, and I haven't learned it systematically. If you can, that's fine."
Eski said.
The use of magical wind is a rigorous discipline, and metal magic will not transform non-existent substances out of thin air.
The metal method condenses arrows out of thin air and shoots them at the enemy. It does not really create something out of nothing, but rearranges and combines the atoms that originally existed around it.
The same goes for the cannon that was assembled before. Although the metal method cannot forge it out of thin air, it can turn existing metal into a cannon.
Of course, mages are precious resources, and using metal methods to produce these things is a luxury in any social system.
Because the engineering warlock has no knowledge of the properties of metal materials, and his metal skills have not received any bonus from the gods? Or not?
That's why we need relatively stable talents like Mobrier.
Smelting, smelting, the K ore on the ground is getting less and less, while the remaining ash and metal ingots in the cave are getting more and more.
At this time, several storm rats and their clan rats suddenly broke into the cave.
"We received a report that Eski Engineer Warlock violated the rules of the dungeon?"
The largest storm rat questioned the engineer warlock, and they received a "report" from a passing clan rat.
So I came to this place that can produce a lot of wealth - metal ingots to see if there is anything I can swallow.
"What is this, Engineer Warlock? Are you worshiping heretical gods?"
The leading Storm Rat asked again.
"It's the altar of the Horned Rat, no doubt about it."
After putting away the new metal that had just been released, Esky replied without raising his head.
"The Horned Rat?"
Just as they were questioning, Eski jumped up and quickly reached the top of the statue.
The engineering warlock stroked the sharp horns on Kane's helmet and said affectionately.
"Look, these two kidneys are strung together, are they going to be the horns of the great horned rat? The horned rat that I admire is responsible for the murderous side."
Hearing this, the Storm Rats looked at each other.
Does the Horned Rat have such a side?
Don't know.
Most of the Rats are just lay believers of the Horned Rat. Strictly speaking, only the Gray Seers can tell whether the Rats believe in the Horned Rat or not.
The Engineer Warlock was also happy to forcefully describe Kane as the Horned Rat.
"Yes, yes, this is the blood cauldron blessed by the Big Horned Rat. As long as we bathe in the boiling blood cauldron, we can extend our short life span."
"The cost of soaking it is two hundred..."
Before Eski could finish speaking, a reckless guy jumped in.
"Ahhhh——"
The clan rat screamed.
The glowing red monster runes can be seen in the second vision as mana threads connecting them together, just like the ones usually used by engineering warlocks.
There is no fuel to burn, but the blood in the pot is already boiling.