Deep within the Mountains, the City of Forged Fire.

The Supreme Hall is a grand dome crafted out of an entire black iron rock mountain, with walls embedded with ever-burning runes said to be eternal since the era of our ancestors.

At present, all four clan seats are occupied.

"Mycelium Fungus Castle?" The Firebeard clan chief stroked his fiery-red, bushy beard with contempt in his voice, "What a ridiculous name. Essentially, they’re just remnants of the Demon Race who escaped the northern cold snap, forming a band and setting up camp. Can they really be called a force? Is it even worth discussing here?"

His burly body leaned back, and the iron chair groaned.

The Zafa clan chief, the only female in the hall, bore such a densely and meticulously braided beard that any outsider couldn’t tell her gender until she spoke.

She seemed more interested in the Northern Territory’s Fungus Castle: "This time is different. Didn’t the mercenaries say that it’s not the Demon Race ruling that Fungus Castle, but instead a member of the Mushroom Race? Also, Marco’s personal letter makes it clear that there are indeed tangible ancient Combat Puppets there, along with some decipherable design remnants. Just this fact alone is worth sending people to make contact."

"A fortress ruled by a mushroom monster, isn’t that even more laughable?" Firebeard sneered, his beard trembling, "Besides, that place is undermining our smiths, what good could it be? As for Combat Puppets... even if they are given to you, can you afford to use them? What now? Are you going to dismantle your Magic Staff to drive a Combat Puppet?"

The Deep Furnace clan chief, Tolin’s father, nodded slowly, his stance clearly aligning with Firebeard’s: "It might just be another ploy by the Empire, secretly controlling these tribes, waiting for us to take the bait."

Among the four clan seats, only the Black Steel clan chief remained silent. He was entirely encased in ancient, heavy rune iron armor handed down from his ancestors, his breathing almost imperceptible.

To this, those present were long accustomed.

Finally, everyone turned their gaze toward the head seat.

In a brief moment of silence, all eyes naturally shifted to the leader.

The Dwarf King sat poised on a throne forged of dragon bones and fine gold, not in a rush to speak.

He slowly unfolded the new intelligence in his hand, displaying it to the clan chiefs, and tapped twice with his heavily iron-ringed fingers.

"These are the latest movements of the two Empire dukes to the north, Eugene and Dean. Not only have they deployed troops to the Northern Territory, but they’ve also recently sent reinforcements. Spies got close enough to observe that the battle is... quite intense."

The Zafa clan chief raised an eyebrow: "No wonder the Fungus Castle is in a rush to recruit blacksmiths, even picking up apprentices, lacking in weapons and armor, oppressed by two dukes, they must be struggling quite severely."

The Deep Furnace clan chief: "Could this also be a show staged by the Empire for us?"

Zafa turned her face, scoffing lightly: "Who would they show it to up in the Northern Territory? A spy would need to wrap in three layers of fur just to get near, and even when the show’s done, there may not be an audience. Aren’t you being overly suspicious?"

The Deep Furnace clan chief retorted: "Aren’t you being too carefree? That’s a faction with a majority of Demon Race; even if they have conflicts with the Empire, that doesn’t mean they can be our allies!"

"Enough."

The Dwarf King’s voice was not loud, yet it instantly silenced the hall.

He surveyed the four clan chiefs and made a decision: "Send a delegation to make contact. Ascertain the details of that Fungus Castle: military, resources, the ruler’s intentions. Whether it’s governed by the Demon Race or the Mushroom Race, or even a talking Goblin, it’s all irrelevant. What matters is whether they’re truly enemies of the Empire and can restrain the two dukes’ forces. If so, establishing ties and offering suitable aid and support are considerations, as the Empire is the Mountains’ sole enemy at present."

In other words, if the Fungus Castle lacks the ability to restrain the Empire, the Dwarf King would merely let it perish on its own.

Following the Dwarf King’s orders, a delegation was swiftly assembled.

Normally, for the first official contact with an unknown power, a delegation leader would typically be an adequately experienced, but not overly important, mid-level noble or senior diplomat.

That way, even in case of unexpected incidents, losses would remain acceptable. However, through subtle maneuvers and hints by the Deep Furnace clan chief, the final decision startled many.

The dwarf war hero—Bard Firebeard.

When the delegation list was put forth, Firebeard clan chief’s brow almost twisted into a red worm.

He mouthed silently, his coarse beard twitching, clearly dissatisfied that this "hero" from his own clan was assigned such a task.

Yet ultimately, he just grunted heavily through his nose, swallowing both his objection and some ale back down his throat.

The other three clan chiefs remained silent, as silence itself is a form of stance.

After all, among those present, including Bard’s own Firebeard clan chief, none have escaped public confrontation by this blustery man.

Bard’s popularity among the Mountain nobles was notoriously low; those who could claim brotherhood with Bard were mostly stationed at the front line contending against the Demon Race, rather than staying in the safe City of Forged Fire.

Therefore, when the Deep Furnace clan chief, citing the reason of "demonstrating the Mountains’ emphasis on this diplomacy," nonchalantly appointed Bard as the delegation leader, no one refuted.

As for Bard himself, he felt nothing particularly special about it, treating it just as another routine mission.

However, when the delegation reached the border, facing a not-so-spacious tunnel.

Bard glared at the deputy and questioned: "What’s this? Does our delegation need to crawl through tunnels? Isn’t this a disgrace to the Mountains? What kind of humiliating delegation is this!"

The deputy also seemed somewhat helpless: "But, Lord Bard, if we don’t detour through the tunnel, then we’d have to pass directly through the Empire’s domain. Even though it’s the border, if by chance..."

"What’s this ’by chance’ nonsense, meet the Imperial Army, slaughter them, and if we really can’t win, I’ll cover the retreat. You all can just run first, alright?!"

With Bard’s directive, the rest had no choice but to follow suit and traverse directly across the surface, albeit with heightened anxiety, not catching a decent sleep for three days.

Fortunately, Dean’s attention was wholly consumed by the Northern Territory’s Demon Core contest at this time, and with a bit of luck, Bard’s group managed to sneak across the border.

Having already received notice, Xing Huo, waiting near the tunnel’s exit to escort them, was somewhat surprised to see the dwarf delegation cross the border, but soon returned to normal and led his men to welcome them.

This marked the commencement of the Fungus Castle’s first true diplomatic venture since its establishment.