Warhammer: Return of the Dragon.

In a mine near Karak Dreadnought, the improvised team of four encountered some minor troubles...

"Victor, left hand!"

Gragrim pulled at the chains wrapped around his arms, his muscles bulging like rocks. After smashing a goblin's head with the axe in his right hand, he swung the chain axe into the dark and narrow tunnel.

Victor, holding a sharp sword, was trying hard to intercept the green-skinned guys pouring out of the flank tunnel. After hearing the dwarf's reminder, he didn't think much and moved sideways to the right.

Two poisonous blades, so sharp that they were difficult to see with the naked eye, seemed to be piercing the hem of Victor's chain mail. If the dwarf had not reminded him, the witch hunter would have been stabbed in the chest and abdomen by the surprise attack.

Gragrim, who was thrown out with a chain axe, broke the perfect balance between offense and defense, and a despicable lurker jumped out with a double blade.

Having witnessed the terrifying power of this rare goblin in the past few days, Victor did not dare to be careless at all. Seeing the double blades in front of him stabbing towards the ground, he still had some time to react.

The witch hunter made a prompt decision and turned around, pulling out the pistol from his belt with a skill that he had practiced countless times, and shot at the despicable lurker beside Gragrim from a distance.

A blessed bullet pierced the goblin's chest, and also made the union between dwarves and humans closer.

Gragrim began to like this tall and thin witch hunter a little, provided that he was not too sharp-tongued.

Victor roared and reprimanded the butcher: "Pay attention to your defensive position, butcher of Karak Kadrin. If you die at the hands of a goblin, you will never see Grimnir and the ancestors of your Dragonbeard clan!"

As he spoke, the witch hunter fired another bullet, killing the goblin archer who was aiming at the butcher's naked body.

"Salzpyre, you really should have been born an elf, so that I would have used these two axes to make love to you!" Gragrim roared as he retracted his chain axe, flexibly adjusting his steps and spinning, cutting through the flesh and will of the greenskins around him.

"In the name of Sigmar, watch your words!" Without hesitation, Victor retaliated against the greenskins in almost the same way. The witch hunter was very agile. Even in the narrow mine tunnel, he could still handle every monster that rushed out with ease.

The sharp blade cut across the throat and eye sockets, causing blood to spurt out. The precise and deadly attack was more skillful than before, leaving blood holes in the green-skinned orc's body.

Compared to the witch hunter's efficiency and lethality, the butcher is just like a boar attack. His body is much shorter than the green-skinned orcs, and he holds two one-handed axes in his hands, which are not double-edged axes suitable for splitting the heads of stupid guys.

They could only use a relatively cruel and inefficient method. While running and wandering, they swung their double axes to create an airtight attack net, cutting every greenskin they touched into residues of varying sizes.

Blood and flesh flew everywhere, roars were heard, and the witch hunters and butchers were gradually swallowed up by the surging sea of ​​greenskins... until a spark arrived.

A winding, flying fire python came out from the darkness at the bottom of the tunnel, carrying with it the high temperature of its surface that distorted the air. Any green skin it touched was instantly turned into charcoal, and the fresh aroma of mushrooms was emitted in its place.

The fire snake slid across Victor's shoulder, burning his right eyebrow and hair into a mass of terrible black hair. The burning pain did not scare the witch hunter, as it was only the slightest injury to the son of Sigmar, but what the witch hunter could not tolerate was the presence of some flame marks on the black gauntlet.

"Watch your fire, damned wizard! In the name of Ghaal Maraz, hammer of heroes, aim your fire at the enemy, not your own!"

The priest walked out holding a piece of strange colored ore. After hearing what Victor said, he pointed at the corpses lying on the ground and the retreating greenskins and said, "In the name of Sotek, if people like you were placed in the Withered Swamp, you would definitely be wiped out if attacked by ratmen!"

"Shut up, you two heretics. In the name of Grimnir, I will kill every greenskin in this mine... and every ratman! This is a new oath!"

It seems a bit ridiculous to expect them to carry out the butcher's oath seriously, but if it is an oath to kill, it will be very useful.

Gragrim's words, which were full of imperial flavor, also made the witch hunters and priests turn their heads and glare at him: "Before that, think about how to fulfill the oath you made before entering the mine. We are completely lost!"

Gragrim touched his nose awkwardly. He hadn't noticed it, and being young and bold, he volunteered to lead the way while Victor fiddled with the mine design, the priest sent out spirit snakes to scout, and the shadow walker looked for the enemy's traces.

Prince Kadrin's original words were: "I know the Grey Mountains very well. I can enter the mines as easily as I can enter a Squig's lair. I'm sure I'll find the path to the campfire."

The three people who had never been into the dwarf mine mistakenly believed that the dwarves had established excavation rules and that they could find their destination by simply following the clues.

But who knows that Gragrim really didn't know. Maybe the dwarves have ways to save themselves in the mines, but he is a butcher. He has been trained as a warrior since he was a child. At the age of thirty, he completed the hair-cutting ceremony under the watchful eyes of the ancestral gods and played with a group of butcher masters in the Kadrin shrine.

If you don't find the way, you're lost. After the greenskins' tossing and turning, the direction that was barely discernible before is now extremely vague.

Victor provided a simple and effective method, which was to kill the greenskins in the place with the most greenskins. There must be a passage connecting to the outside world there.

This proposal was affirmed by the team members, who believed that they should determine the location first before completing the task assigned by the Phoenix King.

But there were some minor incidents during this process, such as encountering a mutant monster whose skin was as strong as that of a blacksmith, the goblins' arrows could actually hit the target, and the boys seemed waaaghier, stronger and more violent, and only then did the Shadow Walker set out to look for traces.

The priest threw up the colored ore in his hand and weighed it in his hand. "The colored glaze ore is highly poisonous. Even the elves find it difficult to use it properly. A little finger-sized amount can make an elephant fall into a coma and pretend to be dead... But the greenskins actually use the colored glaze ore as a seasoning, thinking that throwing it into the pot and boiling it will gain mysterious power."

"This sounds absurd." Victor, who had finished inspecting the battlefield, was a little bit unconvinced by the priest's words. Colored glaze ore is generally regarded as a taboo in the empire, and only the Gold Academy is qualified to study it.

The reason is not complicated. Nurgle's followers can even infect minerals and spread their terrible plague.

"This is ridiculous, but does the greenskin race seem normal?" (End of this chapter)