Warhammer: Return of the Dragon.

The war was delayed a little longer than expected. When Imrik led his guards to Marienburg, the Norse fleet was still at the mouth of the Reik River and had not yet landed.

This attracted the Phoenix King's great attention. When the human nobles wanted to respond and flatter him, he waved his hand impatiently and asked the commissioner to deal with these troublesome matters.

"Latest information."

After searching around, North could only come up with a not-so-good situation.

"Your Majesty, the Norse fleet has blocked the waters from Orbion to Cologne, making it difficult to detect the latest movements. We don't know whether the main force is attacking Marienburg or Cologne."

Two locations...how to judge is a troublesome issue.

Imrik thought there were some troubles, but he vaguely felt that things were not as difficult as he had imagined. The Norse Yankees lacked a unified voice, and the fact that the two enemies, Sali and Skelling, could unite and march south must have been instructed by the Chaos Gods.

It is easy to guess Aegir's goal, it is nothing more than Khorne's style, killing, chopping and smashing.

Ulfric was a little vague. The Eternal Challenger must go out as an executioner, but who will be the target?

King Lauen Leoncornwall of Bretonnia, Emperor Karl Franz... or me?

This thought made Imrik smile, feeling it was a little unbelievable. No matter how arrogant the dark gods were, they would not think that a small character could defeat themselves, right?

However, just in case, especially when he was disgusted by Ulfric's world-famous foul mouth, the Phoenix King made a difficult decision.

"Contact the embassy and ask them to prepare a teleportation array that connects to the royal court and ask Tyrion to come over."

"Lord Tyrion..." North thought for a while and found that Tyrion seemed to have no important matters recently. Although he didn't know why His Majesty suddenly summoned him, more fighting power would also mean more protection.

It is a shameful thing for a monarch to go into battle personally, and with the prestige of the Phoenix King, he does not need to prove himself with military exploits.

Two days later, the elves stationed in Marienburg received powerful support.

When dragon armor and winged helmets first appeared in the Old World, the elves who were traveling and doing business in Marienburg felt even more at ease.

With the Phoenix King and the former War Lord appearing together, there is no opponent that cannot be defeated.

Tyrion was confused. He was assisting Eltharion in counting the professional armies of various countries and considering allowing a group of people to graduate and transfer to other positions to replenish fresh blood for rotation. This would ensure that in the event of an emergency, a group of manpower who could immediately rush to the battlefield could be mobilized from the civilian population.

He had also heard about the things in the old world, and thought they were all trivial matters. It was okay to fight a greenskin, so it must be Imrik who was just slacking off.

So when he saw the Phoenix King, he could only express.

"Is Teclis in trouble again?"

Holding a fruit plate in his hand, Imrik was still thinking about explaining. After all, it was a bit abrupt to call him over suddenly.

But emergencies always come unexpectedly.

The rapidly ringing alarm bell was louder than any musical instrument in the palace, and it caused the crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling to sway.

Imrik said with a smile in the face of Tyrion's pale face.

"Now you see, I am only a Phoenix King who can stamp. I dare not duel with the Norse Yankees. I can only leave it to you, my respected former captain of the guard."

"Damn it." Tyrion cursed and turned around without hesitation, thinking that the battle should be resolved as soon as possible to avoid delaying the work in Ulthuan.

"and many more."

Imrik's voice made Tyrion stop and wait for orders carefully. Although he was a little dissatisfied, he was definitely not resisting.

If the monarch acts at will, it would mean that the elves have no warriors left.

A flawless white sword fell in front of Tyrion, with delicate and vivid wings engraved on every part, and the sword guard soaring like wings showed its holiness. The Sword of Creation... Tyrion did not reach out, the power contained in the Sword of Asuryan was no less than that of the Sword of Khaine, and he did not understand Imrik's idea for a moment.

"A guarantee."

Tyrion raised his lips slightly: "What you mean is that I will be in danger."

"Most likely so."

"That would be interesting."

Tyrion refused to draw his sword and walked out of the narrow and simple human palace with his body straight. He was confident that he could defeat all enemies.

"Well, he's still so... respectable."

Imrik smiled, raised his finger slightly and let the Sword of Creation return to his side. He could feel the will of the Dark Gods getting closer, and it was not just Khorne.

This means... the Eternal Challenger, carrying with him the wrath, mockery, love and passion of the Chaos Gods, has arrived at his destined place.

A ship gliding in the sky attracted everyone's attention. Weird and ominous magical ripples floated from the bottom of the ship, like a foreshadowing of the coming darkness and death to the south.

"The Hague!!!"

The Imperial Guards who recognized the flag of the Eternal Wanderer were all filled with panic. The Norsca had brought countless troubles to the Empire, and the Salli Tribe led by Ulfric in recent years was the best among them.

"Quiet!"

Tyrion, who had just stepped onto the city wall, roared and scolded these lowly monkey soldiers. He really couldn't understand why they were waiting for the Norse fleet to land. There were so many cannons in the city. A round of salvos at the river mouth was guaranteed to sink many barbarian dragon boats.

Not only were humans afraid, but Imrik also condoned this behavior, which was like handing over the initiative to the barbarians.

"Tyrion."

"Bocacci."

The two acquaintances held each other's arms. The tacit understanding formed in the royal court over the past hundred years no longer required excessive greetings.

Boccachili gazed at the dragon boat floating above the sky, his expression slightly solemn.

"I should have handed over the command to you, but His Majesty has not given any instructions on this matter... This should be related to the Hague."

"Ulfric the Wanderer?" Tyrion asked. He had no interest in the old world, and he had only heard of the names of some Chaos warlords who had emerged in recent years.

"Yes, he is the executioner appointed by the Chaos Gods. This time he is probably coming for the Phoenix King. Lord Creon needs to protect His Majesty... The Flame Knights will provide support as needed to ensure that your battle with him is not disturbed.

But some unpredictable things..."

"No need to worry, the Flame Knights just need to do their job well. There is no need to worry about a barbarian warlord."

When the two were discussing some details of the city's defense, a burst of restless cursing came from the dragon boat in the sky. The humans did not feel too much about it, but the elves all looked as if they had eaten shit and were extremely embarrassed.

"Phoenix King, successor of Aenarion? Without dragons, you are nothing but shit. What is the honor of you Caledor? You are nothing but a dog licking the buttocks on the ground for the dragons to admire, waiting to be fucked. You are even more disgusting and despicable than the Dread Knight licking the buttocks of the cold lizards in Druzy.

So what if you got the dragon horn? You hide in a corrupt palace with layers of protection, and you and a bunch of slaves are busy giving birth to mixed-blood bastards. Are you a phoenix or a dragon? If you have the guts, come out and show me whether you are a hairy beast or a cold-blooded freak covered in sticky scales! "

Steam was already coming out of Boca Chiri's face under the dragon helmet. This was simply, simply...

"Don't get excited, he's irritating us." Tyrion held the Flame Knight's shoulder, and vaguely understood what Imrick meant. Hearing this disgusting face, he might not be able to eat for a few days. (End of this chapter)