Chương 179: 179：The Master Artisan's Discovery

Clatter! The burlap sacks untied, spilling over a dozen chunks of grayish-white ore onto the floorboards. Soren's gaze was instantly hooked. He crouched down and picked up a chunk the size of his fist. It was cool to the touch and incredibly dense. The unique, thread-like crystalline veins webbing across its surface screamed of its immense value.

"You actually mined it?" Soren took a deep, sharp breath.

"Yes, my Lord!" Luger practically danced on the spot, waving his hands wildly.

"Late last night, I led sixty of my best Goblin sappers and tunneled straight through that fissure in the back mountain.

"The geological zone you pointed out was not only dead accurate, but... by the Gods! Beneath it lies a virgin silver vein of terrifying scale! You could smash a hammer against any surface rock down there and chip off high-quality raw silver!" This sudden, monumental windfall didn't just represent bottomless wealth—it perfectly filled a critical gap in their strategic arsenal! Conventional steel was often useless against monsters steeped in necromancy and shadow magic.

But in the realm of alchemy, pure silver was the absolute, natural bane of all incorporeal fiends! Its inherent purifying properties could effortlessly shred through the defensive wards of shadow magic. Soren abruptly stood up. He shoved the high-purity silver ore hard into Luger's chest, issuing an absolute, ironclad mandate:"Listen to me closely, Luger! Before the sun sets tonight, I want every single ounce of raw ore in these sacks thrown into the volcanic blast furnace, smelted, and purified!"

Luger blinked, momentarily stunned.

"My Lord, are we casting standard silver coins to trade for grain at Lone Cliff?" Soren's face twisted into a mask of pure, murderous intent. He enunciated every word:"You will go find the sharpshooter, Ein. Requisition the triangular armor-piercing bodkins from the Second-Line Longbow Battalion! Take the purified liquid silver and coat every single one of those arrowheads evenly!

"I want all five hundred of those armor-piercing arrows transformed into [Silver-Plated Arrows]!" Soren was making this extravagantly wasteful arrangement specifically for the massive battle looming on the horizon. Based on current intelligence, Soren couldn't be absolutely certain if Zagar or the Sons of Titan would take the field.

But if he did encounter the Shadow Priest Zagar and those eight rock-shielded Sons of Titan, these silver-plated Imperial longbow arrows would become the god-tier weapons needed to instantly execute them on the spot!

"I understand! I'll fire up the furnaces immediately! Plating silver is tricky, but for a [Master Artisan] like myself, it's child's play!" Buzzing with frantic energy, the combat engineer hugged the sacks of ore and spun around, cackling wildly as he bolted out of the wooden cabin—nearly crashing straight into a group of people who had just arrived at the door.

"Is that Hobgoblin out of his mind?" Leona's red hair flared as she stepped sideways to avoid the soot-covered maniac, striding into the cabin with a deep frown. Following closely behind her was the military priestess, Elena, walking with a light, graceful step, and Commander Cedric, whose expression was even grimmer and more severe than the day before. Soren's escort, the silver-haired throwing-knife master Lyra, moved with the stealth of a phantom, silently taking up a guard position just outside the door.

After a brief, sparse morning greeting, they dispensed entirely with the pleasantries of serving tea. As a traditional, orthodox general, Cedric was used to speaking his mind. He clasped his hands behind his back, his sharp gaze locking onto Soren standing behind the map, and cut straight to the chase.

"Lord Soren," Cedric began, his voice booming.

"I must admit, going over my mental review last night kept me awake until dawn. Greywater Village's population base, that transcendent Macedonian Phalanx, those intimidating, towering defense lines, and even your miraculous coordination of different troop types..." Cedric paused, his tone abruptly sharpening.

"However! In the military code of our Ironpeak Duchy, there is an ironclad rule: No matter how beautiful a formation looks on the training ground, it is ultimately nothing but a meaningless performance until tested in live combat!

"Therefore, I insist on seeing it for myself! Words are wind; seeing is believing!" Cedric took a step forward.

"As a high-ranking officer here on an observational tour, I formally present my request: I wish to personally participate in—or at the very least, witness with my own eyes on the frontlines—a live combat operation by Greywater Village!" His words were overwhelmingly aggressive and demanding. Had he been speaking to a more volatile general, it would have instantly been perceived as a direct provocation against their dignity. Off to the side, Leona crossed her arms, a faint, highly amused smile playing on her lips.

She had no intention of defusing the situation for Soren. To be perfectly honest, the burning desire in her heart was exactly the same as Cedric's. She, too, desperately wanted to see if the troops trained by her nominal Vice-Commander were truly as invincible as the battle reports boasted. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it. Yet, Soren showed not a single ounce of offended anger.

Instead, he lowered his head and let out a low, deeply amused chuckle. It was the laugh of a mastermind holding all the cards, a sound brimming with such absolute confidence that it made Cedric frown slightly.

"Commander Cedric, you are well-versed in the art of war, fully understanding the folly of fighting battles merely on paper. That earns my utmost respect." Soren slowly straightened his back, the smile vanishing from his face.

"You have arrived at the perfect time. In truth, even if you hadn't asked, it would be impossible for Greywater Village to spend today in peace.

"Just moments ago, I received the latest reconnaissance intelligence." Soren's piercing gaze swept over the three people before him.

"Warchief Blackstone is mobilizing the main forces of his warband toward Boulder Fortress.

"At the same time, he is being forced to divert troops to protect a slow-moving inspection delegation from the Blood Province.

"Right now, the heart of the Misty Swamp might look like it's blotted out by an army of a hundred thousand, but in reality, their internal defensive lines are being dragged in too many directions. They are hemorrhaging fatal gaps on all sides!" Cedric's expression instantly shifted. As a master tactician himself, he only needed to follow Soren's finger to look at the hollowed-out defensive sectors in the rear for his heart rate to violently spike.

"Astounding defensive loopholes..." Cedric murmured to himself. Soren casually slung the [Windwhisper Bow] diagonally across his shoulder. Locking his gaze onto the three visibly stunned officers, he readily accepted their grand test.

"Commander Cedric! Commander Leona! Didn't the two of you want to see a truly brutal battlefield?

"Didn't you want to see exactly how high the killing efficiency of Greywater Village's army truly is?

"Ready your warhorses and sharpen your blades! I will lead you to the frontlines myself!

"I am not going to waste my time uprooting some petty outpost of a few hundred peons. If we are going to fight, we are going to concentrate our absolute core forces and launch a direct raid on their arrogant, high-ranking inspection delegation!

"We are going to slaughter one or two Orc Warlords with actual military authority, just to serve as a welcome gift for your arrival!

"I will make absolutely sure that all of you witness, with your own eyes, our true combat power as we utterly annihilate our enemies amidst an army of tens of thousands!" The moment Soren spat out the words "high-ranking inspection delegation," everyone's breathing ground to a halt. A torch crackled, spitting embers, and the dim, yellow light flickered violently, illuminating the vastly different expressions of the people gathered around the wooden table.

Although Leona, Elena, and Cedric had known absolutely nothing about the incoming Orc high command prior to this moment, Soren's few sentences of intelligence were enough. Relying on their battle-hardened military intuition, they instantly pieced together a horrifying picture in their minds. A staggering procession comprised of the Blood Province's top Warlords, High Priests, and elite nobility.

To protect these untouchable masters, Warchief Blackstone would inevitably draft thousands—perhaps even tens of thousands—of elite warriors to form a massive escort, guarding them in the center like stars orbiting the moon. And now, the border commander standing before them—a man who, even at full stretch, possessed barely a few hundred combat-ready troops—was pointing at a map, declaring his intention to raid this titanic, heavily armored, multi-layered defensive convoy!

"Lord Soren..." The perpetually gentle and dignified military priestess, Elena, took two steps forward, the veins on the back of her hands bulging clearly against her pale skin.

"You must be insane, or you have let the victory at the Lone Cliff highlands completely go to your head!" Elena spoke with uncharacteristic severity, her voice laced with agonizing concern as she warned him.

"The Greywater Village you showed us is indeed a miracle of this world. Your civilians live in peace and prosperity, and your army is superbly equipped!

"But precisely because of that, you absolutely cannot take such catastrophic risks! We are talking about thousands of heavily armored Orcs!" Elena cast a compassionate glance back toward the village visible in the morning mist.

"If your raiding force gets bogged down—if there is even the slightest, microscopic error in your command, or if Orc cavalry manages to flank your rear—this army you have poured your life's blood into building will be annihilated in an instant!

"And without the protection of your army, Greywater Village will be turned into an Orcish slaughterhouse overnight!"

"The Priestess is absolutely right!" Cedric, standing to the side, finally snapped out of his shock at the sheer absurdity of the plan. The traditional, high-ranking commander strode up to Soren. He slammed his palm heavily onto the wooden frame of the map, the force of the blow rattling the miniature flags until they violently shook.