Chapter 180: Bastogne

Snorri looked over the town along the way; compared to the previous Hemujiade Yaosai, it appeared somewhat disorganized, clearly lacking systematic planning during its construction.

The ground was not particularly level, and the buildings on both sides of the streets appeared somewhat uneven. Regardless, however, it was very popular.

"There seem to be quite a few outsiders here?" Snorri turned his head to ask Fatisi.

"Indeed, this is truly a popular place of pilgrimage! As the hometown of Shengjilesi, everyone who believes in the Lady wants to come here. Especially since the legendary sacred lake is located deep within the Chalons Forest and is shrouded in magical mist all year round, making it difficult to find."

It was clear that Fatisi had been here, and likely more than once; he knew the knightly tales of Shengjilesi like the back of his hand. Among all the knights of Bretonnia, who would not worship that first Knight King who unified Bretonnia after crushing the invading Greenskin tide through twelve great wars?

The Dwarf settlement here was in the deepest part of the town, right next to the castle, and just like the one in Hemujiade, it was a city within a city with its own walls.

Since the settlement had limited space and could not accommodate so many warriors, and with the risk being low at the foot of the Duke, Snorri dismissed his troops at the entrance of the settlement and let his clansmen find their own places to rest.

These clansmen, who had set out in a hurry without having a proper new year, could use this half-day to relax; once the army set out tomorrow morning, they would likely have to remain tense until the war ended.

Snorri himself, of course, did not go to spend time and relax with the ordinary warriors; he and Sitelinge entered the settlement surrounded by their guards. They were to have dinner with Duke Fengdaiyike that evening, so communicating with the local clansmen needed to be done during lunch.

The local Dwarf Elder showed endless enthusiasm toward Snorri and Sitelinge; although these two young men did not have long beards, neither was a person to be trifled with. One was the theoretical co-lord of the Dwarfs within Bretonnia, and the other was a favorite in front of the Ancestor Gods.

To be honest, Snorri did not get much useful information other than a good meal. The few managers here were loyal and diligent high-level craftsmen, and they were mainly concerned with the business of their own little plots.

Patting his stomach as he walked into his room, Snorri decided to adjust his state with a comfortable nap so he could be more spirited at the evening banquet.

That evening, Snorri and Sitelinge, having changed into formal attire, entered the interior of Bastogne under the guidance of several knights.

"There are plenty of sacred relics of Shengjilesi here; although some of them may be attributed to him by later generations, there are still taboos that must be observed. Stick close to those knights, and it is best not to wander around!" This was the advice the settlement elder gave his compatriots before entering the city.

Snorri secretly sized up this ancient city; he saw stone buildings that were clearly much older standing on both sides of the road. This part of the remaining ancient castle ruins was meticulously maintained, and some seemed to be guarded by pilgrims.

"Two respected Dwarf Princes, this is where the late King Shengjilesi practiced his swordplay! Back then, he shattered the mountainside with a single strike, and the sword mark remains to this day!" The leading knights noticed the Dwarfs looking around and acted as part-time tour guides with thick pride.

"However, these ancient and sacred ruins are forbidden to outsiders and peasants! If you wish to go in and pay your respects, you may apply to the Duke himself later!" another knight added.

"Is this an otherworld version of a sword-testing stone and 'no entry for locals and dogs'?" Snorri cursed inwardly. However, proving strength and bravery by hacking at certain hard objects was indeed a very common thing. If he were lucky, perhaps a classic attraction like "Storm Hammer Snorri's Hammer-Testing Spot" would appear in the future.

Bastogne itself was not very large; only the knightly nobles and their attendants lived here daily. Since many had gone to participate in the expedition, it seemed much quieter than the town below.

The group followed the mountain road and soon reached the Duke's own tower; although they had heard of it before, the Dwarfs in the group could not help but gasp when they saw the scene before them.

It was a huge, red dragon head; although more than a thousand years had passed, it was well-preserved enough to make one imagine its former might.

"The evil dragon Simiergusi; back then, it invaded Bretonnia, and most of the country wailed under its wicked dragon breath! It was a catastrophe! It could swallow a brave knight, horse and all, in one bite!"

"The late King Shengjilesi, single-handedly and braving the flames it spewed, drove his lance straight into the skull of this evil dragon! He then used the holy sword he carried to cut off the dragon's head and brought it back!"

The leading Bastogne knight introduced the story of the late King in the tone of a bard. Snorri knew that this world was not the Aizesilasi his skill template came from, and generally, dragon species were not distinguished by color.

And that might clearly would not be a Sun Dragon—the youngest giant dragons were called "Sun Dragons" by the Elves because they had fiery tempers and rich, warm-colored scales. Then it was likely that it had been corrupted by Chaos and changed color; perhaps it was even a Khorne giant dragon!

"Heh! Nothing more than that! In the Mountain Kingdom, we have plenty of these things!" Sitelinge smiled slightly; this time he did not show the contemplative expression Snorri had.

"Do the two of you know that during the War of the Beard, one of our ancestors from Kalake-Zifulin used a ballista personally crafted by the Venerable God Mogelimu to shoot and kill seventeen sharp-eared giant dragons in a row! Their burial place is now known as the Longmianzhidi!"

The two Kingdom Knights twitched their mouths upon hearing this; it was true, the total number of giant dragons killed by all races in this world probably did not exceed the number killed by the Dwarfs in that one battle of the War of the Beard.

This was not to say they lacked the ability to slay dragons, but mainly because the giant dragons had generally fallen into a deep sleep for various reasons, possibly including climate change. Now, even the pure-blooded Dragon Princes of Caledor only had a chance to awaken them through the ancient Kaleduolongge.

"Where is that place?" Snorri was startled and turned to ask.

"Where? In some forest in Aoka Shan, right? Why? Are you questioning the records of our fortress?" Sitelinge was a bit strange; logically, Snorri should not be undermining him now.

"I finally understand where the zombie dragons under the butts of those Vampire Lords come from!" Snorri muttered to himself. Back then, his ancestors were truly wealthy and imposing; they wouldn't even look at materials from ordinary giant dragons.