Warhammer: Return of the Dragon.

"Minathnir, what is Imrik doing?"

This most nagging voice in memory made the dragon, whose life course was enough to witness the history of the elves, lower his eyes helplessly...

It was difficult for Atila to be accepted by the dragon group, and many dragons did not think that she was an outsider who could be trusted. However, since the dragon group could not be dealt with, all problems would be solved as long as the leader could be dealt with.

Lao Mi had only one thought about her, and that was to get away as soon as possible, so as to avoid being nagged about forming a joint council of elves and dragons... and discussing how much money should be allocated to dragons as subsidies every year.

This is simply ridiculous. How can a dragon be self-reliant? Moreover, the old guys led by Yaoxing Dragon need to actively go out and decide the amount of funding for their relatives based on their recent performance.

Old Mi was on the distant mountains of Karak Dreadnought, with his wings spread out, as if to block the light of the evil moon, covering the weak beasts in the forest below who had not yet discovered the existence of the overlord of the food chain.

He responded to the communication from Terenlock with a somewhat helpless tone.

"As always, reckless."

"Is there any danger?"

How should I put this? Lao Mi looked at the two elves who were still killing wantonly in the canyon in the distance. Most likely... there should be no problem.

"I can't guarantee there's no danger, but I can guarantee that Imrik is alive."

This is the confidence of Minasnir, and Atira also firmly believes in the dragon's guarantee, but she still doubts the dream she had while snoring in her heart.

“But I’m still worried… He’s always so reckless, as if there’s no suitable opponent in the world, and he just wants to embellish the family history that can no longer be filled with honor.

And have you forgotten about the curse of the Caledor family..."

"That's a rumor. Three generations cannot fight side by side? That's ridiculous." Minasnil felt that as the elf girl got older, she had more and more things to worry about. She used to celebrate Imrik's great victory after the war.

My custom nowadays is to repeatedly tell my husband not to take risks.

When Atila wanted to continue speaking, Lao Mi was already impatient. He interrupted Atila's constant worry and said in a sonorous voice: "Release the palace's magic defense matrix. I will send you over and talk to Imrik in person."

…………

A familiar blue-white light flashed in front of Imrick. Judging from the aura, this should be Lao Mi's teleportation spell.

But why didn’t Lao Mi mention this? Did he think that I was old and needed help in the battle?
I had thought that no matter what the teleportation magic was, whoever came would handle it, and if anyone died, it would be considered a waste of time, as it would not disturb the Phoenix King's interest in fighting.

But when a beautiful figure appeared, Imrick couldn't hide his surprise: "Atila?"

The princess was dressed in military uniform, with the rarely used divine sword Sundown attached to her waist. The surface of the armor, which was mainly red and yellow, was covered with fine and invisible runes. The resolute face under the tasseled helmet showed that she was by no means a delicate woman who needed protection.

The blood-stained Phoenix King, coupled with his surprised expression, made the princess's originally somewhat worried expression gradually turn into a trace of contempt after she found that the blood was from the greenskins. "Imric, Imric, I always say that after you fight, there is a strange smell on your body that is hard to erase. Can you be more careful next time and not be covered in meat and blood stains?"

Ignoring his wife's teasing, Imrick immediately contacted Lao Mi, ready to ask what was going on and why he came to the Old World to eat the stench of greenskins instead of staying in Terenlock or being a grandmother and raising grandchildren in the Dragon Palace.

But Adila obviously knew what her husband would do next. She raised her eyebrows and said, "Your wife is in the middle of the battlefield. If you want me to think highly of you, it depends on whether you think faster than you act, or whether you think faster than you act..."

Damn...

Knowing that there was no way to send Etila away, Imrick could only sigh and took the Dragonfire Sword from his wife, his tone helpless but also a little excited:
"Then let's have a long-awaited couple cooperation. If you lose..."

"Just be responsible for handling the government affairs of the Phoenix Royal Court. That's a nice idea."

"how could be……"

As the negotiations were tense, Eltharion interrupted the couple's conversation with a slightly resentful tone: "You two, this is not the garden of the Dragon Palace... I am a war lord, not a jester serving to promote harmony between husband and wife."

"You are still as boring as ever, Eltharion."

Etila shook her head and finally chose to resolve her worries with action. She drew her sword and rushed towards the nearest green-skinned boy.

Although the princess seldom fought against greenskins, it did not mean that she was unable to deal with them. As a warrior who could wield a halberd even during pregnancy, she had fought many battles with masters of Ulthuan, among whom the largest number were mixed doubles Draknir played by husband and wife.

Atila was very fast. When the kid raised his machete and chopped him down with a bolt from the blue, he dodged sideways nimbly. The setting sun on the right side passed over the green-skinned kid's body as he ran, and he successfully took his life without getting any blood.

An elegant warrior, unlike the cold and furious Phoenix King, most of the enemies killed by Atila had suffered precise fatal wounds, with the eye sockets, throat, and heart being the worst hit. In the chaotic battlefield, she was like a constantly moving flower, her beautiful petals transformed into deadly weapons, ruthlessly erasing lives.

In sharp contrast to this is the Phoenix King's powerful attack. When one's martial arts skills reach a certain level, one will find that the so-called moves are nonsense. If one can cut the opponent in two with one sword, then there is no need to waste time looking for the vital points.

The couple's joint efforts were obviously much better than the tacit understanding between the king and his subjects just now, but as Eltharion gradually adapted to the rhythm, the situation turned into Imrik's main attack, killing more than a dozen of the nearby greenskin boys with one sword. Atila charged forward and used the characteristics of the Prince of Chariots to charge forward as a spearhead, while Eltharion was responsible for accurately sniping enemies that looked threatening.

The speed at which the three of them worked together was faster than before... But after dealing with the opponent in front of him, Isharion glanced at the Phoenix King and found that his old friend was obviously working harder than before, using both sword and spear to intentionally protect the swift Atila.

Although the attack was swift, Atila was obviously not satisfied with the progress. She just wanted to end the battle quickly and stop the source of worry immediately.

She stopped, raised her sword to her chest, took a defensive stance, and said solemnly: "Imric, use your special skills quickly. It is difficult to deal with tens of thousands of greenskins with a sword alone."

"I don't have any special skills, my princess..." He wanted to make an excuse. After all, it was a rare opportunity to kill, and the clash of swords and guns was the romance of a warrior.

Atila's unfriendly look made the Phoenix King helplessly lower his head. Who on earth sent Atila here? When this is over, I will make him pay! (End of this chapter)