For now, among the dwarf commanders, although Snorri is still relatively young and has no foundation of his own, with his status as the God of Choice, in terms of leadership, it can be said that he is in the second echelon, comparable to the masters of large fortresses.
Quite. Second only to High King Thorgrim - The Grudge Bearer and Butcher King Agrim - Iron Fist.
The former is the co-owner of the Mountain Kingdom. When he stands on the throne of power and reads out the provisions of the Book of Great Hatred, the battle ax in his hand will face the wrath of all dwarves.
The latter is an unparalleled warrior in his prime. The haters under Dago's Ax range from the chaotic powers favored by the gods to the ancient dragon demons who control the storm to the giant lords as tall as mountains.
Every dwarf believes that Agrim can cut down everything in the world. Even when facing those races that have not been killed before, there is no need to worry, because this will only make the Butcher King who kills his enemies even more eager to fight.
foot.
However, the combined ability of these three to inspire allies may not be a match for the White Dwarf. He is a true legend, an ancestor, a hero, and a god.
The white dwarf waved the battle ax in his palm. No matter it was a big horned beast or a minotaur, his body was dismembered with one blow. He left a path of flesh and blood behind him, and two of the four-armed bull demons leaned against the mountain.
The broken body looked like a Weng Zhong by the roadside.
Behind him, the dwarves were pursuing violently, and the beastmen collapsed immediately when they saw this. The fierce man who split the giant beast with an ax came towards him, and those who didn't want to die had to run away with their tails between their legs.
Malagor-Dark Omen has existed in this world for many years. It has heard of the reputation of the white dwarf, and naturally does not dare to face his sharp edge. However, the dwarves have wings for this small and very flexible spellcaster.
There is nothing that can be done.
When Snorri came back from his daze, he realized that he had become alone. Only a few humans who had escaped the beast transformation were still guarding the carriage. They and Prince Snorri, who stood stunned, looked at each other.
After a while, intermittent praises began. "Praise for your willingness to stay and protect us!" "You are really a gentleman who is willing to protect women!"
"Female! Where is my sister-in-law?" Snorri looked around and found that the female dwarves had also rushed out. They had also received some fighting training and had their own self-defense guys.
Snorri was sitting with the humans guarding the convoy's belongings while paying attention to his experience bar in the system. He was relieved when he found that the experience value continued to increase and finally stopped when he was approaching level five.
After a while, the pursuing dwarves surrounded the white dwarf and turned back. Snorri opened the commercial wine carried by the caravan on the spot for the tribesmen to drink.
The leaders of the motorcade gathered around the white dwarf without hesitation. The strongest of the dwarves took off the silver helmet on his head, and Bloxen respectfully took the artifact with both hands.
A resolute face covered with wrinkles was revealed under the helmet. Although the hood was half-hidden at the time, the dwarves recognized him at a glance as the down-and-out traveler that day. The tribesmen who had laughed at him all bowed their heads in shame.
Headed.
"Snorri, the young man has little experience, but you have done quite well, and you are worthy of this name!" The white dwarf sat on a wine barrel, and after a fight, Cousin Tommy filled a glass for him.
"Great Grim Brindel, forgive me for being stupid. Why didn't you just ask me to turn around and go back?" Snorri couldn't wait to ask the doubts in his mind.
If the white dwarf had directly revealed his identity before and asked the convoy to turn back, even if Snorri insisted on moving forward, no tribesmen would follow him. How can the importance of a messenger be compared with that of his own son?
"It's coming for you!" The white dwarf drank the wine in his glass in one gulp. "Those brats' things are still so bad!"
Snorri knew in his heart that even if he retreated, he would still have to take this road, and detouring from human territory would not have much effect. Humans who are more susceptible to corruption will not be able to supplement the enemy's magic in the face of Malago.
It's more than the reinforcements given to oneself.
The riddle that the white dwarf played before was to allow Snorri to lead the convoy to a narrow terrain where he could kill easily. The dwarves are slow and difficult to chase. Even the most legendary white dwarf cannot change it. If it is in the wilderness
The beastmen only need to avoid his ax blade.
After a night of carnival and drinking, the White Dwarf, just like countless legends, picked up his package and disappeared into the mountains. But Snorri knew that there would be a chance to meet again in the future.
Several years later, Stringer Trailblazer, the rune lord of Karak Zfulim, held his grandson in his arms and told the stories of his ancestors to the reliefs on the stone wall in the lord's office.
This man who was said to be as strong as the ancestors of the Golden Age became more and more enthusiastic as he talked about it. From the first generation of granite hands carving out the prototype of a mountain fortress in the Gray Mountains on the order of the Supreme King, to the Battle of Longbeard surrounding the breeze.
Epic battles took place in Fort, the most important stronghold in the west of the mountain kingdom.
"Grandpa, why is this about your deeds?" The young child asked, looking at the brand-new stone sculpture. He had also awakened the power of runes and would soon be sent to the Eternal Peak for instruction. Sterling
Ge felt that he could not be strict with his beloved grandson.
"Hahaha, little Snorri, what do you think grandpa should engrave?"
"Of course you wore the Mountain Breaker and broke the neck of the Orc Warmaster Gor-Bloody Fang and regained the Gint Mines again!" Little Snorri shouted, but he then added:
"Or wouldn't it be great if you led the Breeze Castle army north to the Chaos Wasteland? Why, why are you speaking outside?"
"Hahaha!" Stringer stroked his white beard and looked at the stone sculpture - a young dwarf standing in front of a fire in the wind and snow and saying something, while a large number of tribesmen sat and listened.
It also focused on portraying two of the audience members through special techniques.
"What matters is who is listening to me! This," he pointed at the hooded man sitting on an armor pack, "is Grim Brindel!"
"This!" He pointed to another tribesman with a warhammer beside him, who looked just as young. "It's Snorri, Snorri Thorson!" Stringer smiled heartily.
"Snorri the savior and the ancestors with white beards! They, they are sitting and listening to you, grandpa?" Little Snorri looked at his grandfather with eyes filled with admiration. He didn't often hear this story told.
"That's natural. Every word in your mouth and my grandfather's mouth is like rock crystals in the deepest part of the earth! They, at that time, could only nod!"
