Warhammer: Return of the Dragon.

In the center of a remote and dilapidated village, a tall, thin man holding a torch was recounting the sins of innocent people one by one with harsh and sharp words.

"One! You did not stop the resistance when the Necromancer arrived, and allowed this heretic to wander in the cemetery, turning the corpses that had not been buried into puppets of the evil one, thereby corrupting the holy empire and church!"

"Second! When Sigmar's servants and his attendants were investigating the situation, they intentionally concealed the whereabouts of the necromancer and committed the crime of harboring heresy!"

"Three! The militia did not start tracking the necromancer, misleading the Inquisitor into thinking wrongly and trying to evade responsibility!"

The tall and thin man in a black leather jacket drew the light sword from his waist with his empty right hand. The milky white light flashing on the narrow steel blade proved his identity: an inquisitor who hunted down heretics under the instructions of the Church of Sigmar and protected innocent civilians from evil persecution.

Under his forehead covered by a tall bowler hat, Victor's gray right eye looked around at the group of villagers. There was fear, helplessness, confusion, and anger, but no reflection.

They were contaminated by the evil aura of the necromancer and turned into heretics carrying impure aura.

Only the trial of the double-tailed comet can prove whether these people are truly innocent.

The men and women tied to the woodpile listened to the charges stated by the judge word for word, and wanted to struggle to explain their difficulties, but the black cloth covering their mouths made their desire to survive particularly weak.

The militiamen added new burning materials to the woodpile with a look of pity. When they passed in front of the judge, they only dared to lower their heads and crouch forward, trying to avoid the attention of this blind bastard.

Seeing that the woodpile used for trial was enough to prove whether the eight sinners were pure, Victor retracted his rapier and threw away the torch in his left hand in the terrified eyes of the villagers.

The torch, wrapped in a cloth strip soaked in animal fat, swayed in the breeze brought by the night, leaving a half-meter-long tail flame in the air.

When the grease collided with the woodpile, some of it splattered on the feet of the defendant. The hot liquid made the defendant's throat moan uncontrollably, and the fact that he was about to suffer the most painful death made them forget how to pray to the gods in their hearts.

When everyone was in despair, a young man wearing an old chain mail half-body armor came running over at a speed faster than the goblins could run, holding a walnut-sized object in his hand, and shouted to Victor who was presiding over the ceremony in the center.

"Your Excellency the Inquisitor, Your Excellency the Inquisitor, I have found the trace of the Necromancer! The militiamen were right, that damned heretic did run to the west."

The servant's words made Victor's frown relax a little, but he had no intention of canceling the ceremony.

This made the servant who hurried to the judge and pretended to be breathing heavily think to himself, "Oh no!" Could it be that this old bastard discovered that the thing in his hand was a fake dug out from the ravine, and was going to burn me too?

Fortunately, Victor was not too wary of the new servant. He took out a glove from the inner lining of his leather jacket and handed it to the weak man who was exhausted from a little investigation.

"Senior, remember how to deal with heretical objects. We must never touch any suspicious objects easily. As long as our minds are a little lax, endless blasphemies will fill your brain and turn pure Sigmar believers into sinners who follow evil ways!" "Yes, yes, you are right. As long as heresy is not eradicated, our purity will always be in danger." Senior, who was already familiar with the temperament of the Inquisitor, immediately touched the expensive leather gloves and stuffed them into the leather bag around his waist, and presented the skull in his hand to Victor.

"I found this evil thing following the direction pointed out by the militia. There is no grass growing within a hundred meters around it. There are some strange phosphorescent lights floating around, which makes people feel uneasy. But as your servant, I will not be afraid of a heretic. I took my long sword and dispersed the phosphorescent lights that were filled with resentment.

Who knew that these phosphorescent flames were traps set by the necromancer? After the silent night disappeared, a group of skeletons crawled out from the ground, holding halberds and battle axes and started fighting with your servants. The leading skeleton had a strong breath of death and must have been infused with a lot of evil magic.

I was not afraid of this horrifying sight. I grasped the long sword tightly with both hands and launched a leap towards the big skeleton, but the big skeleton did not follow the moral principles of martial arts and let the skeleton body that was supposed to be watching the battle sneak attack me..."

Senior emphasized in a vivid way how critical the situation was. If there was only a slight mistake in the details, they would definitely become one of the skeletons.

But his eyes kept wandering to the still burning fire. He needed to make Victor believe that he was telling the truth, so that the innocent villagers could escape the accountability of the Inquisitor.

It couldn't be that the necromancer didn't harm any living people, but just picked up some well-preserved remains and ran away. As a well-educated person, he couldn't bear to see such a thing happen.

Senior's words made Victor half-believing and half-doubting. He kept asking for specific details, from the shape of the phosphorescent fire, the specific style of the weapons used by the skeleton soldiers, and after the soul fire in the eye sockets dissipated, whether the head would fall to the ground first or the thighs would fall apart first. Every word was full of the rigor of an inquisitor.

After he was sure that the details were correct, Victor suppressed his disgust and pinched the walnut-sized skull in Senior's palm with his thumb and index finger. He looked at it hurriedly for a few seconds, and put it down immediately after confirming that there was indeed a breath of death.

The Inquisitor walked to the fire in the center and picked up a still burning stick. He seemed unaware of the miserable cries of the eight men and women whimpering and wailing. Perhaps in his ears, the sound was as faint as the rustling of leaves in the night wind.

He turned around and stared at Senior with his right eye, which could still see. "Take me to the place where this heresy was found. As long as the necromancer wanders around for one more day, the crisis of the empire will be aggravated."

Senior nodded, but did not move to follow immediately. Looking at the fire behind Victor, he said with an embarrassed look, "Look at these people. I don't think they have any heretical aura. Maybe the necromancer was sleeping in the house while performing evil magic in the cemetery.

The direction pointed by the militia is also correct. It is better to release them. Next year, Viscount Gracie Amos will be able to pay more wheat to the church, right..."

Victor didn't say anything, but signaled with his eyes that Senior should lead the way quickly. The Inquisitor was extremely anxious to catch the trace of the necromancer. A few days of messing around with the villagers was enough to make the heretic carrying forbidden items pose a greater threat.

Senior breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that it was not in vain that he had spent two days in the ravine just to find an item that might be related to the necromancer.

As he trotted after Victor, who was already walking towards the woods outside the village, Senior turned around and blinked at the elderly village chief, telling him to put out the fire quickly, otherwise he would be ruined if he continued to be burned by the flames. (End of this chapter)