Warhammer: Return of the Dragon.

"I feel something is wrong. There is an inexplicable voice calling me." Marcus looked at the Bretonnian plains which were somewhat different from the familiar environment. After a night of confusion, the first thing he did was to look for the eyes that were watching him.

He had never been to Bretonnia. When Judith traced the criminal record, he found that Marcus' ancestors fled from Bastogne to Uberek to settle down in order to avoid the religious war. After a hundred years of baptism, except for Marcus's strong physique which was slightly different from his friends who grew up with him, he had become a real imperial citizen.

This criminal record was ruthlessly erased by Judith. Except for the backup left in the palace, even if Marcus's eighteen generations of ancestors were dug out from the ground, they would still be genuine imperial citizens.

After entering Bretonnia, Marcus's reaction only made Victor want to laugh. The witch hunter grinned and ruthlessly ridiculed the soldier.

"Kruber, you should consider reducing your alcohol intake. A drunk hunter cannot survive in nature."

"The tough guy is right. Young people must understand what it means to do things within their capabilities. It is not a wise choice to show off one's strength." Bardin wiped the wine stains from his beard. The first thing the dwarf does every day is to praise Valaya, and then have a glass of beer to boost his energy.

But Lona didn't want the carriage to be left with only a few drops of dirt waiting to be licked by rats before reaching the destination, so he wanted Victor to strictly control the supply of Marcus and Bardeen.

Facts show that the effect is very mediocre. The witch hunters have no hope of getting away with it by selling alcohol, and the Bretonnians are not fools. How could they not see that it is just a team of five... improvised scouts.

"My dears, it's time for breakfast. Sister Sienna made these flatbreads herself. They're the old Tyrell style. I'm sure you'll like them."

Holding a bag of bread that smelled burnt, Sienna loved sharing the most, especially her cooking skills.

The Pyromancer can turn the battlefield into a kitchen, or in other words, the kitchen can also be turned into a battlefield.

Victor frowned and picked up a large piece of half-burnt bread. He remembered that when he checked the food yesterday, these wheat breads without any gravel or sawdust still exuded an enticing aroma, instead of the current... garbage smell.

"Ferganassus, you should learn to curb your...habits. We can't afford to waste them."

Sienna ate the bread expressionlessly and did not respond to Victor. She looked at the three middle-aged men, hoping that they would give the hard-working chef due praise.

Mages are not easy to deal with, especially fire mages. This is the truth that Marcus learned in Kislev. No matter whether it is the magic of pointy ears or the evil witchcraft of the northerners, they can always make the Tal believers suffer.

Marcus gave a thumbs up, stuffed the burnt bread into the wine jar, wiped off the burnt material on the surface with all his strength, and then stuffed it into the liquid.

A dripping simple stew was successfully completed under Marcus's operation.

The soldier praised Sienna's cooking skills in a slurred voice, "Sienna, you are the best cook I have ever seen. The taste of this bread... it's so fucking delicious that it can make people hungry to death."

Bardeen learned it very well. He was not a coward. He was just giving face to humans.

As for Victor, he refused the food and thought Sienna was wasting precious food and was suspected of colluding with Chaos elements.

The three of them and the short one were talking and laughing. Although their backgrounds and experiences were not very similar, at least they all had good personalities.

Marcus is a bit silly, but he always takes the initiative to take on the boring work of guarding the night. Sienna is as warm and enthusiastic as a flame, and has a humorous attitude towards life. She always ridicules herself as a three-faced man who is a Tyrell from her hometown and grew up in Altdorf, but learns elven magic. Bardin likes to sing. Unlike the stubborn long beard in his impression, Bardin, who changes into a ranger costume, likes all kinds of interesting things on the ground, and often shares various stories he has seen when camping at night.

Although Victor was a little tough on the outside, he was actually very... gentle, which was incredible for a witch hunter, especially one with a serious look and a sharp and sarcastic tone.

He taught Marcus about the taboos in some areas of the empire, told Sienna how to act in accordance with the standards of the church, and established a deep friendship with Bardin.

If there were only these four people, Victor wouldn't mind treating them as temporary companions, but there was only one more elf...

"Flying insects, your short lives are always wasted on trivial things. Now that we have arrived in Bretonnia... raise your vigilance to the lowest level."

The elf, with her face covered by a scarf, joined the morning chat without anyone noticing. She would never join in the boring discussions of the short-lived ghost, especially those fallacies about elves...

Although occasionally, those few human monkeys could tell some interesting stories about the elves, they were Asur, not Asrai.

"Kerillian? Come and try the bread I made, the old Tyrell taste." Sienna took out a piece of bread that looked better, thinking that the burnt object just now was just a prank with her companions.

Kerillian looked at the monkey's food with disdain. Only a monkey would cook the food so crudely.

Victor raised his only remaining eyebrow and challenged, "I have seen the Phoenix King eat a piece of bread produced by the mill in Rick County, and I have also seen the most arrogant knight in your empire eat Altdorf sausage. Perhaps you can explain the reason, elf woman?"

In terms of experience, Kerillian has witnessed more than Victor, but the more critical issues are that this witch hunter has really come into contact with the Phoenix King. With Asrai's experience, he can easily see that the elven sword worn on the monkey's waist is by no means a commodity that can be found casually.

The guard and hilt decorated with ancient dragon scales, and the dragon claw-shaped star iron used as a counterweight, fully demonstrated that this thing might be the sword of a Caledor noble.

Kerillian reluctantly took the bread and simply put Sienna's kindness into her bag without showing her true face to her companions.

"Then tell me, elf, what have you discovered? I hope it's not a group of Holy Grail grandpas carrying golden corn cobs riding tall horses to drive out those of us who don't pay taxes." Marcus, whose ancestral home is unknown, continued to make fun of the land under his feet by telling the imperial joke.

"Beastmen...if we move forward, we will enter a three-way battle zone. The best way is to avoid it."

Kerillian hesitated to speak, she wanted to return to her compatriots and protect Athel Loren, but that might bring more trouble.

Even though she searched through all the things hidden by Lona in the Red Moon Tavern, all she got in the end were various handles on the local nobles, and she never found any clues about the letter that she was so concerned about.

"A three-way melee?" Victor was a little confused. The witch hunters didn't know much about the southern lands. It was difficult for them to deal with the darkness of an empire, so who would care about the kingdom of the goddess in the south.

"Beastmen, Bretonnia, and..."

(End of this chapter)