Warhammer: Return of the Dragon.

Holding the old woman's staff, Talarion came to the Island of Death under the escort of the great wizards...

Eltharion tugged at Talarion's collar, his emotions, which he rarely showed, becoming difficult to control at this moment.

"Phoenix King...Imrik knows your decision?! Asur is capable of fighting against all threats, instead of letting a...hero voluntarily sacrifice himself!"

Facing the maelstrom and the watchful eyes of the horned evil god, Talarion's eyes showed relief.

He expressed his respect for Eltharion. The War Lord's duty is to protect every Asur, and this sacred mission is fully demonstrated in Eltharion.

The watchmen would rather die with glory than submit in shame.

"Prince Eltharion, I appreciate your concern... but every Asur has made sacrifices to protect Ulthuan, and I am but a tiny speck of that sacrifice."

"You..." Eltharion tried to persuade him several times, but finally loosened his hands slowly and raised the White Tower of Hoeth in front of his chest as a gesture of blessing.

"Your will will be passed down forever in the White Tower of Hoeth... We will remember a magic swordsman named Talarion who performed great deeds with his meager body."

"It's my honor." Talarion slowly walked towards the whirlpool, carrying the prophecy that was about to be fulfilled, and in the hymns sung by the great wizards... he was torn into pieces by the violent wind of magic.

In the blur, the vortex began to vibrate violently, and the eternally rotating magical wind was like a bomb dropped in the center, disrupting the normal air flow movement.

All spellcasters on the Island of Death felt their spirits severely shocked and heard an extremely horrifying and evil curse.

"No... Skaven... curse you..."

At the same time, in the Platinum Flame Temple far away from the Island of Death, the Omen of Asuryan, at the command of its master, turned into a rainbow connecting the sky, tore apart the curse of the Horned Evil God with its clear and moving cry, and disappeared into the whirlpool together with Talarion.

The War Lord clenched the Spear of Carmen in his hand. He was not qualified to intervene in such a dispute... He only felt a sense of uneasiness.

With a look of sorrow and surprise on his face, Cavill slowly walked to the side of the War Lord and said in a deep voice: "Your Majesty... you should have prepared a countermeasure long ago. Asuryan will not..."

"Kavill!" Eltharion warned in a deep voice, his eyes full of calmness: "Don't speculate about the gods rashly."

"Now, collect the remains of the fallen...if any of them still exist."

…………

In the Dragon's Back Mountains, Imrik's face turned pale. The sign of Asuryan that emerged from the temple was nothing more than a projection of the divine power that he condensed with his strength and will.

Asuryan was too weak. Just drawing a portion of his strength to fight the Horned Rat caused the Platinum Holy Flame to sway violently... The giant snake proposed a quick recovery plan. Every elf was born in obedience to Asuryan's will, and the soul, spirit, and mind were the best supplements.

This was flatly rejected by Imrik. If I regard my people as the source of power, what kind of crappy monarch would I be?

Teclis cast a concerned look, confronting the Dark Gods head-on is no easy task.

He was about to ask if he needed help when Imrik interrupted him with a wave of his hand.

The Phoenix King panted heavily, slowly drawing strength from the land. He still had a trump card... the World Stone. But this trump card only had two choices: draw all the power, or sacrifice the Elf Empire to give the Chaos Gods a big blow.

Or... use the World Stone to seal the bipolar chaos portal and completely close off this world.

The Phoenix King has not made a decision yet, and no one can make an easy choice before the end comes.

"Tai... Teclis, report on the progress of the research on the bipolar portal."

"We need professionals to go deep into the Chaos Wasteland..." Tigris paused, thinking that the Phoenix King might be about to make a difficult decision.

"Even if it is Gorond, who is closest to the Chaos Wasteland, he still cannot correctly grasp the parameters of the bipolar portal just by observing from the safe area... We need time."

The influx of power temporarily relieved Imrik's poor physical condition. He was silent for a long time and then spoke slowly.

"I will arrange this matter... This is not just a matter for the elves. Be prepared to go to the Empire of Altdorf with me."

"Ah."

Imrik took a deep breath and tried to keep his body as normal and stable as possible. After absorbing the power of Asuryan, his form of existence became closer to that of a divine creature, which is usually referred to as... a demon prince.

The whirlpool not only repels the power of chaos, but also repels divine power. Even though there are multiple backdoors to deliberately reduce the pressure, the impact still exists.

His body gradually returned to normal, which made the Phoenix King force a smile. Especially when he heard the crisp cry of a baby in the temple, and... the echo of shadows caressing the ground, his face immediately turned pale.

Bilak?
Without time to consider the situation, the Phoenix King picked up the Sword of Creation on the table and rushed to the center of the temple.

On the other side, holding the baby in the cradle, Draconian's face showed infinite joy. He comforted his wife who was sweating and equally happy, then wiped his hand across Gladys' forehead and used magic to make her fall asleep slowly.

Draknir wrapped the child with one hand, his expression gradually became stern, and he turned his back to the endless shadows: "Bilak, Lord of Shadows... Your appearance here makes me feel bad."

"Poor child... When you were born, your father felt the same as you." The incorporeal shadow wanted to stroke the young boy's cheek with its hand, as if wanting to comfort him gently, but an equally invisible sword of eight winds had already nailed him to the wall.

Bilak chuckled, his terrifying eyes full of sarcasm: "Yes, I saw everything about your father... You know, he is not your father.

At least, he is not the Caledonian prince named Imrik, but..."

Draknir was not angry at all. He simply used countless Eight Wind Swords in the calmest way to pierce Bilak's mouth.

"Bilak, don't try to influence me with your words... You are just a traitor and a loser. What qualifications do you have to sow discord among the Caledor family? Do you think that with the protection of the dark gods, this world is your playground?"

"Of course not, my pitiful prince...but I should let you know the truth, the truth about your father."

Bilak's figure gradually disappeared, turning into wisps of barely discernible black shadows, flying towards Draknir... and the child in his arms.

"How pathetic." Draknir sighed and shook his head, and disappeared amid the crying of the child. Only a long sword burning with hot white flames emerged from the shadows... (End of this chapter)