With a truce established and the disabled young chieftain dragged away, both parties relaxed and lowered their weapons. With both groups pacified, the Elder suggested that as a good show of faith that the dwarven leader could come have a chat at his house. Naturally, Urist went forth and accepted under the condition that Ubel and Vlad were allowed to come as well.

The Elder mulled over it for a bit before agreeing to the terms. As they went to talk Urist left Ubel in charge to watch over everyone and make sure they didn't do anything that could cause needless bloodshed.

Unicy sent a death glare towards Urist’s fading back as she began ordering the troops to make camp and rest. On the other side, the elderly fox-kin ordered a young female fox-kin with white hair and a cold stare to corral the youngsters to keep them in line while he and Urist’s group talked.

As the two groups had an uneasy staring contest, the four men Urist, Vlad, Ubel, and the elderly fox-kin headed behind closed doors, sat down, and began their discussion.

The air was tense. Although fighting hadn’t broken out, with the exception of Sage getting manhandled, it was hard for a peaceful air to invade. The group sat in silence for a moment before Ubel began speaking, “Hello, elder…”

Coughing, the old man interrupted, “Old Crimson will do fine. I’m sorry about how our young chieftain has acted against you, visitors. With you appearing so suddenly and with the bone people having just left yesterday, we’ve all been on edge.”

“Bone people?” Asked the confused Vlad.

“Ah, you don’t know? The bone people are those that twist and taint the dead for their own gain.”

“Okay, but why did they come?”

“Because if you haven’t noticed, Vlad, all the adults are gone. Let me take a guess, the ‘bone people’ took them all.” Stated Ubel.

At the mention of the adults being taken the old man flinched and his eyes burned with anger.

“It is as you say young man… The adults of our village have been taken in exchange for the lives of the children and the elderly. If I was in my prime, I could’ve toyed with those oversized corpses.”The old grayed fox-kin said, his face filled with pain and frustration.

Pushing up his glasses, Ubel's face suddenly became grim, “Large corpses? Don’t tell me they are...”

“Yes, it is as you fear young man. Large bone men controlled by those monsters that stink of decay.”

“Is that the only powerful force?”

“No, they have legions of undead wielding powerful armaments that make loud noises before some metal object is fired. Thanks to such a weapon, Sage's father, our strongest warrior in the village died, and...”

Urist, Ubel, and Vlads' faces became grim as the elder described the enemy's forces, from weakest to strongest. Tens of thousands of undead infantry wielding strange sticks, controller skeletons, necromancy initiates, necromancers, core necromancers, are bone men, and finally the head necromancer, Malous.

“That isn’t all. That sick bastard Malous has taken all the men and women of our village between 16 and 40 to use for his ritual to become a lich and escape mortality.” old man Crimson growled with a shadow over his face, his hands clenched in fury.

Having heard old man Crimson's detailed list of the enemy forces and Malous’s plans the three dwarfs had different reactions.

Urist leaned back into his chair, wanting to scream at the absurd difficulty of this event. Vlad was disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to collect much blood thanks to all the undead, and Ubel was massaging his forehead, muttering under his breath before abruptly looking at the elder.

“Why did they only want the adults? Why not also the elderly and children? How will Malous use your people to achieve lichdom? How long before the ritual is completed? Where is the main base?”

Old Crimson forced each word out from between gritted teeth, “If they had the ability to do so they would’ve taken us all. But if you hadn’t noticed, Sage showed you one of our tribe’s two innate abilities, the blessing of the void. It allows those blessed with it to move within the void, and unless the one using it is held in place by another being, they are free to go wherever they wish.”

“And what of the other ability?” Ubel asked casually.

“The blessing of a strong physique. If only I was in my prime, I could’ve...”

Old Crimson paused to point in a certain direction. The three dwarfs looked over to see a large rock embedded in the ground. It had to weigh at least ten tons.

“I’d be able to lift that rock easily and throw it at least a hundred meters. If I had the power of my youth, I could’ve prevented all of this.”

His voice filled with regret as he kept pouring out his soul.

“Although those blessed with the void could’ve escaped easily, our lady chieftain, my daughter, struck an accord despite her grief and rage. She signed an oath of blood, tied with powerful magic, that the adults would sacrifice themselves as long as the children and us old farts were not harmed, captured, or touched in any way. Oh, my poor daughter...”

The old man, who had been keeping together well enough, finally cracked as tears began to slide down his cheeks.

Suddenly he grabbed Urist’s hand, “We weren’t strong enough to save our people. But you, travelers, no, young heroes, must have the power to save our people from the fate of death! If Malous isn’t stopped soon then my daughter and our people will have their life forces stolen to achieve his goal!”

Feeling the man's trembling hands and looking at his snot-nosed expression, Urist was about to accept this old man's plea-

“Wait.” Ubel’s hand shot out in front of Urist, turning his attention to him.

“What is it, Ubel? We should help them. After all, it is part of the reason we’re here.” Urist questioned.

“As you placed me in command here, I wanna ask a few more things before deciding.”

With an eye twitch, Urist gritted his teeth, “Fine.”

Pulling his hand back, Ubel rested his elbows on the table and his chin on his hands.

“Tell me, Old Crimson. What’s in it for us? Do you have gold?”

“No.”

“Do you have any treasure you can give us?”

“We… we do not.”

“Do you have some powerful magic you could teach us?”

Old Crimson gashed his teeth, “I’m sorry, all our magic is innate.”

“Then… the only thing you can offer is your life. If we help you, you must swear that all fox-kin in this village will become citizens of our Dwarven Kingdom. You will work when we tell you, hunt when we tell you, and you will fight and die when we tell you.”

“Y-you want us to be slaves?! I would rather die than subject my people to those conditions!” Full of anger the old man slammed the table, making deep imprints in the wood.

“Yes Ubel, you go too far with those demands.” Urist somberly scowled.

Ubel just stared at them with his classic dead fish eyes before giving a faint chuckle.

“Too far? What do they have to offer us other than their lives? No gold, no treasure, no secrets? We’re not doing charity work here Urist, this is war. And with what we’re up against we need all the manpower we can get. Giant moving bone mechas, guns, and legions of undead against our group of 300 combatants? On top of being on a time limit, it’s nearly impossible for anyone here other than me to give us a sliver of a chance for even a pyrrhic victory.”

“That might be true but you can’t make them slaves. You can’t treat them in such regard.”

“Slaves? No, they won’t be slaves. They will be part of the kingdom as citizens. What gave you the impression that they will be slaves?”

Before Urist could open his mouth to retort he felt some kick him in the leg. Turning towards the direction, Vlad gave him a look to be silent. Bewildered at why Vlad was acting in such a way, he almost didn’t pay attention to what Old Crimson was saying.

“Not slaves, but citizens under your kingdom… Are you telling the truth, general?”

The old man, once a proud warrior that had the respect of his village, was now at his wit's end and hung his head low in defeat. Seeing such an expression, Ubel knew that his silver tongue had made this old Froggie submit.

With an oily gin that freaked out even Urist, Ubel held out his hand, “If you agree to become citizens under our kingdom, I assure you we’ll do our best to rescue those captured.”

“E-even... M-my daughter?” The old man dry heaved the response as his trembling hand reached out to the devil.

“Even your daughter,” Ubel replied with a voice filled with poison honey.

“Then… we will submit to you if you help us.” In defeat, the old man grasped Ubel’s hand. The deal was struck.

With the agreement made Ubel sneered inwardly. Hook, line, and sinker. This old man is too easy. To give up their worth as just mere citizens and not demand anything. Asking too much before asking something sensible really does wonders.

Keeping his sickening grin on his face, Ubel kept talking, “Then, let’s talk about our war.”