Warhammer: Return of the Dragon.

The mines of Karak Dreadnought Fort, which Shadow Walker and Ouroboros believed to be the most likely shortcut to reach the bonfire after careful reconnaissance.

As for the map that Victor found in the Aldorf military database, he just regarded it as a tissue for dealing with jet lag when climbing the snowy mountains. It was bullshit and none of the routes were accurate.

Climbing the towering mountains is a very difficult task. Even though the average height of the Grey Mountains is not as steep as the World's Edge Mountains, it is definitely not something that can be easily climbed by human power.

The mine is located at the top of a mountain. Usually, the dwarves would use cable cars to transport supplies. However, after discovering that it was difficult to resist the greenskins' offensive, Karak Dreadnought chose the tactic of clearing the countryside and resolutely preventing the greenskins from finding the primary mineral processing plant.

Facts have proved that this choice was the right one. If the goblin boys were allowed to get the dwarves' treasure, they would definitely have a great time using catapults to throw shit on the dwarves' city walls carved with the faces of their ancestors.

But this brought a lot of trouble to Victor and his crew. The cableway had been blown down by the rangers, and there were green-skinned patrols on the mountain paths. It was obviously not an easy task to find a way into the mine.

"If Sigma gives us guidance and lets a few griffins take us to the top of the mountain, all problems will be solved." Victor, curled up in a leeward cave, spoke excitedly while sniffling.

Compared with the other three team members, his physique seemed a little weak. The thin oxygen did not have any impact on him, but the extremely cold temperature was indeed a big problem.

The Shadow Walker said nothing, staring at Victor, who was wrapped in a fur coat, with a questioning look. This kind of weather in Naggaroth was like a children's outing. Compared to the eternal glacier permafrost north of Naggaroth, at least there were some trees around.

His Majesty's orders... are they reliable? This is the first time that Shadow Walker feels confused about the current Phoenix King. If he just finds a dragon prince to take the lead in executing them, he will surely get better results than Victor.

"Fly..." the priest murmured to himself, and suddenly rolled up his sleeves, revealing several brass bracelets inlaid with obsidian on his wrists. His right hand carefully stroked the slight wrinkles on the surface of the last one.

"Fly, I mean fly. Don't you Pointy Ears each have a dragon? Hurry up and pull a few over here and take me to the top of the mountain." Gragrim gnawed on the steak carelessly. He obviously inherited his father's rough temperament and faced every battle with a smile.

Shadow Walker analyzed meticulously: "According to the public data of the Phoenix Court 116 years after His Majesty Imrik was crowned, there are a total of 1,039 dragons in Caledor, including 14 Shining Star Dragons, 232 Silver Moon Dragons, and 793 Blazing Sun Dragons.

According to the census of the Elven Empire four years ago, the number of people under the rule of the Phoenix King was 800..."

"Stop, stop, stop." Gragrim held his ears. What he hated most was the Shadow Walker speaking all kinds of information in an emotionless tone, such as the latest feedback sound box developed by Rapids Pass, which moved when the spring was pressed and could not be stopped forcibly.

Shadow Walker maintained an analytical attitude, and after revealing the public data about the Elf Empire, he told the dwarf a conclusion: "The difference in the number of dragons and elves is 1.25 to 1, so your claim that no elf has a dragon is a fallacy.

From the logic of the conversation, I am the only elf here, so you want me to find some dragons, but dragons will only look for Caledor elves as allies... This proposal is not feasible."

"You, you..." If he hadn't vaguely known that Shadow Walker looked like this, Gragrim would really have made a note of it in the elf's notebook, considering it a serious insult to him.

"Well, my Lords, the elves and dwarves, your dispute will be settled by the gods. Only Sotek can decide our fate."

The dwarf snorted coldly at the priest's rhetoric, and continued to gnaw on the half-cooked meat in his hand in a depressed mood.

"Is there any way..." Victor stretched out his hand, intending to get closer to the campfire to keep warm. He felt that his bones were about to turn into ice. If he had not found a cave that suddenly appeared due to an avalanche, the son of Sigmar would have died in the natural power of the mountains and would have been ridiculed by others. The priest, who really couldn't stand the witch hunter's cowardice, threw a red bracelet to Victor: "Take it, the flame crystal stone produced in Lustria... If you don't want to use heretical items, the venom of the viper in the southern endless desert can effectively raise your body temperature."

Victor tightly grasped the scarlet bracelet. From the shape, the surface was rubbed very smooth, like a string of snake eggs.

Although he was somewhat reluctant, the witch hunter reluctantly put it around his wrist after thinking of the priest's constant reminders along the way.

But when he put it on, something went wrong.

The crystal stone was like butter encountering high temperature. It instantly turned into a sticky solid liquid, spreading from Victor's wrist to his elbow. Layers of scales covered the witch hunter's skin and gradually extended to the inside of his forearm...

"Ah! Ah! Damn, what kind of witchcraft did you use!" Victor restrained himself from drawing his gun and shooting the priest.

The priest was obviously a little surprised at the melting of the flame crystal. While keeping a distance, he carefully looked at Victor's wrist.

After a long silence, the priest slowly asked: "Did the God... speak to you?"

"You mean Sotek? When I was in Lauren Loren, he often asked me to say some inexplicable things."

"How much did the Lord say? I mean how much did the Lord say to you?"

"Do you remember how much bread you have eaten?" Victor pressed his burning and painful left hand. He felt a pain like a maggot on the tarsal bone seeping from the surface of his skin to the inside of his body. If it continued, this hand would probably be crippled.

"Well, lucky imperial boy, I don't know whether this truth is good or bad for you." The priest sat down on the ground and took off the mask he always wore for the first time, revealing an exceptionally resolute face.

The priest's face had obvious Kislev regional characteristics, with thin lips, low palate, long and thin eyebrows and a high nose bridge, but his eyeballs were different.

There is a seemingly transparent film on his left eye. When he opens and closes his eyelids, the eyelids are first pulled up and down, and then a layer of slightly wrinkled nictitating membrane is pulled, revealing the real eyeball.

Just like a crocodile...

The priest pointed to his left eye and said, “There is a saying among the elves that those who stare into the abyss will eventually become the abyss, and those who slay dragons will eventually become dragons.

When I was young, I was fortunate enough to receive a response from the God in my prayers. This eye is the blessing bestowed upon me by the God, which enables me to clearly see the flow of chaotic energy... Every member of the High Priests Group has heard the voice of the God to a greater or lesser extent. My blessing is my eyesight, but the blessings of my colleagues are different.

The only thing we can agree on is that those who have heard the words of the Lord God will inevitably change. What appeared on your forearm is an ancient sacred text, which means..." (End of this chapter)