Warhammer: Return of the Dragon.

The snow has been falling, and the cold wind in the gray mountains is always more severe than that in the plains. The wind blowing from the mountains, the sky, and the ground seems to blow people away.

It was a rare occasion for Imrik to put on a fur coat. Although it was a bit bulky, it was also exceptionally solemn and gorgeous. Gilded lines wandered on the surface, and together with the cloak fluttering in the cold wind, it showed a pattern of a phoenix with its wings spread high.

This let many people know that the Phoenix King was restrained. In the past, even at the border of the coldest Naggaroth Wasteland, he was still wrapped in that thin robe.

"You have to change it! What if you get sick? There is no imperial doctor here."

Whether the guards' medical skills can compare with the royal doctors is not the point, but at least the princess, who is wrapped in the same bulky coat as the Phoenix King, fully demonstrates her aesthetic taste, a style that prioritizes pragmatism.

I'll take off my clothes in a moment...

After secretly swearing his anger, the Phoenix King nodded to Oliveira. As always, he trusted this warrior who had climbed up step by step from the bottom. In addition to listening to some key reports, the combat arrangements still continued with the previous plan.

In other words, this time the Phoenix King will obey Oliveira's command... and stay in the back, ready to put out fires with Lao Mi at any time.

"If you can't choose your wife, then it's better to choose a reliable boss..."

"What are you muttering about?"

Creon, who was looking for trouble, made Oliveira raise an eyebrow. Although he sympathized with the Phoenix King's plight, he naturally would not really show it.

"Nothing, I just felt sympathy for the tragic fate of the Flame Knight..."

"Shut up! Do not think that His Majesty's tacit approval this time is your capital to show off your power. When the arrangements in Ulthuan are over..."

"And you will still stay by His Majesty's side, and I will be invited by Lord Agathel to participate in an epic war."

While the captain of the guard looked extremely embarrassed and murderous, Oliveira laughed heartily, thinking that this was right.

Wearing the dark helmet, Oliveira's voice sounded very low underneath the helmet.

"Then I wish the Flame Knights good luck in their military careers. I hope to see you alive after this is over."

Minor grudges will not escalate to working together, this is the unspoken rule of Caledo.

Creon also nodded and responded with similar words: "Caldor still needs you, don't die for now, lucky boy."

"This is not where I belong... It's so far from the place of honor I imagined."

After saying goodbye to each other, Oliveira quickly traveled through the mountain trails with the Edge of Edred.

After the terrain underwent massive changes, many of the roads that were originally usable disappeared. The rangers tried their best to find a few roads that could be used, but they were still not enough to accommodate an army of tens of thousands of people marching at the same time.

This time, Oliveira will walk along the narrow mountain roads with Kadlin's butchers, acting as the vanguard to cover the main attack route of the Pious Legion.

Agrim, who had been waiting for a long time, stood on a rock on a towering cliff. This was a road that went around the mountain and could only accommodate three people walking side by side. If they were not careful, they would fall to a height of a thousand meters.

The Butcher King held the Dago Axe in one hand, his resolute body looking somewhat lonely from behind. The cold wind brought ice and snow to the crown of Balagu, and he could vaguely see the mountain fortress that had never fallen...

"Oliveira, if Howling Wind City is about to fall one day, what will you do?"

"Do nothing, save the people, and then wait for an opportunity to kill all those who captured Fengxiao City."

“Is this a comfort?”

"No, I'm just stating a reality... You should consider how to appease the large number of Dreadnought Fort dwarves who are ready to shave their heads and take an oath after the war, instead of being sentimental about the collapse of a mountain fortress. Mountain fortresses can be rebuilt, clans can be nurtured and multiplied, but butchers can only die..."

"Yes, butchers only have death..." Agrim turned around, his fiery eyes never disappeared.

"I suddenly admire you a little, Blade of Caledor."

"I should hope so, but I'm clearly not used to the kindness of dwarves...at all."

"Me too."

The elf and the dwarf smiled at the same time and held each other's hands, one was tough and heavy, the other was sharp and tenacious.

"Let's go, I hope those fanatics can be of some use." Agrim glanced at the dense crowd at the foot of the mountain road. Even from a long distance, he could still hear the noisy prayers.

"Questioning faith is not an appropriate statement, although most of the time, I also think that swords are far more useful than prayers."

The angry butcher and the silent duelist are walking side by side on the mountain road. They will face an unprecedented challenge. After clearing the greenskins on the left side of the passage, they will abandon their support for the Pious Legion and head straight for Karak Dreadnought.

…………

"Do you think it will succeed? I mean Oliveira and the others." Attila moved closer to her husband, trying to find some warmth in that fiery body.

The princess hated winter, as it reminded her of the ice and snow that never melted in Naggaroth and her father who died in battle in the wasteland.

Even after such a long time, she can still remember the pain...

"Perhaps, but they are not qualified to fail... If no one survives Karak Dreadnought, the dwarves will go from waiting for the golden age to the beginning of an age of revenge."

Imrick's calm tone made Adila even more curious. She hugged her husband from behind and buried her face in his broad back.

There are only the couple and Minasnir here, so there is no need to worry about dignity in front of Minasnir.

"From what you said, you intended to put Karak Dreadnought into this situation..."

Adila didn't say everything, because she knew her husband would understand.

"No, I have discussed this in detail with Mazdamuddi and Odu Harlan, and I believe that consuming the power of the Spiritual Vein Network to save Karak Dreadnought Fort is not worth the loss...

Given the racial characteristics of the dwarves, they would be grateful for the help of Slann and the grace of Valaya, and would vent their anger on the rats, but they would not be able to truly seek revenge at all costs. "

"I have a chance to save this hill fort, but I won't do it... I need them to do something crazy more than the dwarves who need the elves' help all the time."

"So you think?" Attila had a guess. If the dwarves attacked the rats with all their might, no matter where the Skaven fled to, the final result would not be very good.

"Yes, the actions of the Skaven are, in a sense, a good thing for us... So far, the dwarves are still focusing on the greenskins, the Lost Mountain Fortress, and the artifacts, but they don't know where the real threat comes from."

Imrik looked indifferent, as if he had no mercy on the lives of the dwarves in the towering castle in the distance, even if it meant tens of thousands or even hundreds of thousands of dwarf warriors, a powerful fortress to resist the end of darkness.

However, they have been staying in the castle, waiting for death like turtles, which is of no use to the world.

If sacrifice is needed to awaken the wrath of the Mountain Kingdom, Imrik does not mind being a driving force behind the scenes and dominating the fate of these ancient creations. (End of this chapter)