Dragon of Frost.
Is it a native, gigantic Xenos creature? Or a creation of some kind of Warp Daemon?
Where exactly are the limits of its power? And how much control does Kerry Von have over it?
The wild man's memories only mention "divine punishment" and "overwhelming power," but the specific process is vague.
Is it the ability to manipulate weather over a large area? Or something even more bizarre?
This directly determines the threat level of the Xenos and also determines how he should deal with Kerry Von.
If it's just a giant creature native to the area, then the threat is limited.
And as long as Kerry remains on the side of humanity, it is not impossible to "temporarily utilize" him, just as we have done with the Plague Cleansing Cult.
But if it possessed stronger abilities, such as powerful Psychic Power, it might even be able to summon more of its kind...
That completely changes the nature of the matter.
Dominic had a premonition that the specific way the Dragon of Frost helped the Savages repel the Orks was the key to unlocking all the secrets.
"Lieutenant Karen."
He pressed the communicator, and his voice returned to its usual calm and steady tone.
"Have the reconnaissance team retrieve all satellite monitoring records of the Arctic ice sheet from the past year, focusing on temperature anomalies and energy fluctuations in the northern ice sheet before and after the Battle of the Great Forbidden Wall."
"In addition, send another small team under the guise of 'border surveying' to search along the edge of the ice sheet for traces of Orks, focusing on collecting samples of remaining Orks."
"Yes, Major General."
The adjutant on the other end of the communication line immediately accepted the order.
Dominic, however, knew that these alone were far from enough.
Satellite monitoring is inherently prone to errors in the harsh environment of the ice field, and after six months, the traces had long been covered by wind and snow.
Moreover, Brevis's orbital defenses were inadequate, and the information gathered was incomplete.
To truly understand the Dragon of Frost, we must start by infiltrating the Savages.
However, the scattered savage tribes were all peripheral figures and had no access to core information.
The strongholds of the Ice Fang Clan and Snow Claw Clan are the only two places where crucial information can be obtained.
But he couldn't just lead his troops in.
The interrogation made it very clear that they were the leaders of the two major clans.
Ice Fang Kuai and Snow Claw Rain have long recognized Kerry Feng as " Ice Lord," which means that the two are already Kerry Feng's nominal subordinates.
If he rashly led his troops to raid the tribe and capture people, it would be tantamount to directly breaking ties with Kerry.
The Tithe hasn't been fully collected yet, the plague in the Lower City hasn't completely subsided, and the resumption of farming in Dorito has only just begun.
The evidence is not complete enough, and there is no benefit in turning against them.
More importantly, Dominic didn't want to fall out with them.
He had seen too many Imperium nobles who held their positions without doing any work, and too many high-ranking officials who only knew how to shout slogans but were actually useless.
A young governor like Kerry, who is capable of getting things done and holding his territory, is extremely rare.
As long as the other party doesn't truly betray humanity or invite a major enemy into the country, he doesn't want to push things to the extreme.
If a direct approach doesn't work, then a roundabout one is the only option.
Dominic's lips curled into a slightly amused smile.
He has been collecting taxes for many years, and has traveled to at least eighty or a hundred planets, interacting with all sorts of indigenous societies.
When dealing with these semi-civilized clans and tribes, forcibly entering will only provoke their shared hatred and hostility. However, if you follow their rules, it is not difficult to get them to talk.
Of course, the most crucial point is that they are essentially outsiders, and these local natives are the most xenophobic.
But who says you have to contact them directly to get information?
Three days later, in the Midtown Brevis, at the Cinder Inn.
This is an old building hidden in the cracks of a freight pipeline, its exterior walls covered with rusty pipes, and the air is always filled with a strange smell of engine oil and alcohol.
The residents here are mostly scavengers, small merchants, and brokers traveling between Lower City; all sorts of people, a mixed bag.
After the outbreak of the plague, martial law was declared in Midtown, business plummeted, and most of the hotel rooms were empty.
The owner simply converted the first floor into a tavern, barely making a living by selling low-quality, adulterated liquor.
In a corner booth sat a man wearing a dark fur coat.
He was around forty years old, with a slightly chubby face, several good-quality gemstone rings on his fingers, and an exquisite Plasma Pistol hanging from his waist, exuding the air of a wealthy businessman.
His name was Villen, Tithe Fleet. At this moment, he was leisurely sipping his cheap liquor, his eyes casually sweeping across the tavern entrance.
He was waiting for someone.
A scavenger leader nicknamed " Dilong ".
According to Major General Dominic's plan, they could not directly contact the Ice Fang Clan, as that would be too conspicuous and easily attract the attention of the Governor's Office's spies.
Moreover, it's difficult to achieve the desired results.
The best way is to connect with the Ice Fang Clan through local trading brokers in the Hive City, posing as a noble merchant from the Uptown.
Dilong is the most suitable middleman.
This man has been working his way up in Lower City for over thirty years, holding several trade routes through the Icefield, and has a long-standing friendship with Ice Fang Kuai, the patriarch of the Ice Fang Clan.
He made a fortune every year by reselling the pelts of rare animals from the icy plains.
After the plague broke out, the Lower City was in chaos, trade routes were completely cut off, and the Dilong hid in the Midtown, struggling to make ends meet.
A penniless old broker and a group of resource-starved savages—that makes business much easier.
"Crunch~"
The hotel's wooden door was pushed open, and a wave of heat rushed in, prompting several scavengers drinking and cursing at the door.
A short, slightly hunched old man walked in, his neck hunched.
He was wrapped in a thick coat with several patches, his hat pulled low, revealing a pair of small, darting eyes that scanned the people in the tavern.
It was indeed Dilong, but its appearance was far less imposing than its nickname suggested.
Villen put down his wine glass and gently beckoned with his hand.
The Dilong paused, eyeing him suspiciously for a few seconds before rubbing his hands together and quickly walking over, a professional smile plastered on his face.
"Sir, you wanted to see me?"
"Sit."
Villen gestured with his chin towards the seat opposite him, then snapped his fingers, signaling the bartender to bring over a glass of ale.
Dilong sat down, flattered, holding the wine cup in both hands. He drank it down in one gulp to cool off and quench his thirst, but his heart was pounding.
The man before me was impeccably dressed and possessed an extraordinary air; he was clearly a high-ranking official from the Uptown. What could such a person possibly want from me?
"I heard you have business dealings with the Ice Fang Clan of the Ice Plains," Villen said bluntly, his tone flat.
"I have a batch of goods I want to sell, and I'd also like to buy a batch of high-quality Arctic fox pelts and snow bear bile. The price is negotiable."
The smile on the Dilong's face froze for a moment.
He put down his wine glass and gave an awkward laugh, "Sir, where did you hear that news? I stopped doing it a long time ago, I stopped doing it."
" The Lower City is plagued by disease, the roads are all blocked, and the Ice Plains are in chaos too. The Orks just left not long ago, who would dare to do business in that godforsaken place?"
He spoke flawlessly, but his eyes betrayed a hint of wariness.
These days, anyone suddenly appearing to do business on the ice plains is either a sting operation by the Imperium Inspection Team or a gangster double-crossing thieves; he can't afford to be careless.
Villen didn't expose him, but simply took out a heavy money bag from his pocket, placed it on the table, and gently pushed it.
The purse's opening revealed gleaming gold Throne Gelt, so bright they were almost blinding in the dim light.
There is also a grain card with a value exceeding 100 tons.