Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

Telankar walked with heavy steps, and the sound of his boots hitting the ground echoed clearly in the gradually quiet street. His body leaned forward slightly, as if an unspeakable weight was pressing on his shoulders. In his mind, the fragments of his experience in the past 24 days kept emerging, like an endless dream, scene after scene.

He remembered every fierce battle in the arena, the roars and sweat of the contestants as they swung their wooden weapons, the cheers and boos of the audience. The moment when the war dancer captain fell, and his own hysterical cheers for victory, seemed to be still clearly audible.

He remembered the excitement brought by the chariot race. The chariots sped across the field, and the dust raised by the wheels mixed with the screams of the audience, forming a feast of speed and power. Every sharp turn and collision of wheels made his heart rise to his throat, and he almost jumped up on the spot. When the champion chariot crossed the finish line, the enthusiasm on the field and the excitement in his heart intertwined, and he could not calm down for a long time.

He remembered the exciting competitions of archery on horseback, archery on foot and horse racing, and every scene seemed to be engraved deep in his memory.

During the horse archery competition, the horses neighed and the sound of their hooves hitting the ground echoed like thunder. Each contestant wore simple light armor and held the designated bow and arrow. The horses galloped across the field. When they crossed the obstacles, the contestants opened their bows left and right, and the arrows shot towards the targets in the air like meteors. The explosion sound of an arrow hitting the target echoed in the field, and the audience exclaimed and cheered.

He was particularly impressed by the action of one contestant. The knight pulled away at the moment when the horse turned sharply, almost sticking his body to the horse's back, drawing the bow in his right hand, turning around, and shooting three arrows in three directions: in front, on the left, and in the sky. The three arrows hit the bull's eye at the same time, smoke rose from the bull's eye, and the referee's horn sounded immediately, and the whole audience cheered.

The rifle shooting competition was even more intense, with contestants moving through complex venues, climbing over low walls, climbing ropes, and crossing narrow wooden bridges. Their movements were as smooth as flowing water, and the sound of the bowstrings being plucked when shooting was like drumbeats on the battlefield. The targets were no longer simple static targets, but were suspended on swinging ropes or hidden behind obstacles.

The performance of a contestant wearing a brown and green cloak drew warm applause from the audience. When she jumped onto a vertical rope, she not only stabilized her body, but also shot an arrow at the moment of jumping into the air, hitting the target accurately. Then she climbed over the high wall at lightning speed, turned around, drew the bow, and hit another target again.

Horse racing is more like a stage play, with contestants riding on tall war horses, and the horses galloping in the ingeniously designed venues, jumping over high wooden fences, and wading through shallow pools. The difference is that this is not only a test for the horses, but also requires the riders to participate in the obstacles themselves.

A rider wearing a black cape performed particularly well in the competition. When the horse was running at high speed, he quickly jumped off, deftly passed through a narrow arc iron ring, held the ring with both hands, swung his body over the wooden frame at the other end, and then jumped back on the horse. Then, the horse jumped over the last obstacle and rushed to the finish line, winning cheers from the audience.

He remembered the tense atmosphere of Blood Bowl, where players rushed around the field like wild animals, roaring and knocking their opponents to the ground. The commentary of the Witch King's Hand echoed in his ears like a war drum, and the sharp and accurate commentary portrayed the thrill and excitement of each game vividly. He clearly remembered the cheers that broke out when the last ball was dunked into the opponent's scoring area, like a mountain torrent, shaking people's hearts, although he still didn't quite understand the rules.

He still remembers the wild postures of the noble ladies when they played polo, which completely subverted his traditional impression of the rich and powerful. They wore gorgeous riding clothes and swung the horse hammers mercilessly, with swift and precise movements. When a contestant made a stunning comeback, the whole stadium was boiling, and her figure became a symbol of victory and beauty.

What he remembers most vividly is the boxing match. The feeling of each punch hitting his flesh is like fighting on the battlefield. Every punch seemed to hit his heartbeat. The contestants gritted their teeth, their faces covered with sweat and blood, and their eyes were burning with unyielding fighting spirit. At the end of each round, the contestants stood shakily on the ring, accepting the enthusiastic cheers from the audience. That moment seemed to be the coronation ceremony of a hero.

These images flashed through his mind like lightning, and every detail and every excitement carried the afterglow of the festival, which slowed his steps involuntarily. He took a deep breath, as if he could still smell the air mixed with sweat, dust and cheers in the arena. These memories, both fleeting and eternal, were deeply engraved in the depths of his soul.

He remembered the different performances every day. Those carefully arranged programs were the soul of this grand festival, like a vivid reproduction of the history and myths of the elves.

When the actor playing the role of Aenarion stepped into the blazing sacred fire, the burning flames were as dazzling as the sun. The audience held their breath and watched him struggle in the flames and finally walk out with sacred glory.

At that moment, Telankar's heartbeat seemed to stop, and he could feel the awe and emotion in the eyes of countless people around him. Aenarion's sacrifice transcended the boundaries of race and faith, and deeply engraved the elves' reverence for heroes in everyone's soul.

He still remembered the oath of the Hellsbane family. When the torches were raised high and the swords crossed, the solemnity of that moment shook everyone's heart. He recalled the cry of "Hellsbane's oath, unswerving until death!" This oath was not only a family's commitment, but more like a collective oath to the fate of the elves. No wonder the Hellsbane family has been able to stand firm for thousands of years.

All of this was like a spiritual baptism, depicting the glory, sacrifice, faith and unity of the elves. Those performances made him feel that his life had a new meaning, and made him understand that the fate of the elves was never just their own, but the common glory and responsibility of the entire race.

He remembered the crowds surging around the market, and how the aroma of the skewers made him struggle for a long time, his steps wavering between temptation and thrift. In the end, he restrained his desire, but couldn't help staring at the skewers holding the skewers, watching them enviously feasting on them. He also remembered the funny and short transaction, the moment when the skin lizard handed over the fried insects, with a bit of weird generosity. Although the transaction was short, it revealed a funny tacit understanding, which became an unforgettable scene in his memory.

He remembered the bustling crowds gathered under the silver flag, some full of joy, some with frustrated faces. The scene of Duruchi who tried to cheat for a second serving of food being caught by the soldiers was still in front of him. He was dragged away mercilessly and became the "first guest" in the cage. At that moment, the laughter and whispers of the onlookers made him clearly feel the strictness of the rules and the power of order under the festive appearance.

He remembered an even more bizarre scene: a giant toad sitting on a palanquin, surrounded by exquisite ornaments and gorgeous fabrics, served by skinks. In front and behind him were lizardmen guards holding spears and wearing armor, marching majestically on the street. The toad's majesty was like a walking god. Wherever he went, skinks bowed their heads in respect, and the Druki also gave way. The whole scene was both exotic and sacred.

When the temple area was opened, he visited every sacred place with awe. He remembered the towering statues, the relief murals symbolizing the ocean and storms, and the figures of believers kneeling devoutly. His eyes wandered between the magnificent dome and the four spires, and the mysterious and majestic atmosphere almost suffocated him.

But his most profound memory is the final carnival.

He stood in the crowd, looking at the grand ceremony in front of the Great Temple of Maserlan, his heart surged. When the Son of the Sea raised the Trident of the Sea, the blue-green light reflected everything around him, as if the will of the sea and the storm had descended upon the world.

The prayers flowed into his ears from all directions like the rising and falling tides, and every word struck the depths of his soul. As a follower of Matheran, he, like everyone else, performed the unique rituals of Matheran followers, prayed devoutly, and completely entrusted his inner faith to the god who dominated the deep sea and storms.

At that moment, he felt not only the joy of carnival, but also a deep sense of belonging and mission. The meaning of this festival quietly sublimated in his heart. It was no longer just a celebration and relaxation, but an endless respect for the gods and recognition of the new order. He felt that his connection with Matheran was closer, just like the waves of the sea surging in his blood.

After that, he came to the Heilan Hub and exchanged most of the Sovereigns in his hands for an amulet symbolizing Matheran.

It was an exquisite ornament, shaped like a drop of crystal clear water, carved from azure crystal. There seemed to be waves flowing slowly inside the drop, as if a real ocean was sealed inside. The bottom of the drop was inlaid with a circle of delicate silver ornaments, engraved with the wave pattern symbolizing Matheran, and the top was a small rune, representing the eternal connection between the ocean and the storm.

The ornament is a magic item, his first magic item. The priest told him that the amulet can help him resist three fatal attacks. If he falls into the sea, pressing the amulet will bring him back to the surface of the sea.

He carefully hung the amulet around his neck, and the cool touch brought a sense of peace to his heart. He stroked the amulet and could feel the power and blessing of Matheran flowing.

Everything seemed to have happened just yesterday, but it also seemed like a long time ago. He sighed softly and looked up ahead. After the festival, the streets of Chapeuto were less noisy and more silent. There were still soldiers patrolling around, but the crowds had dispersed, leaving behind memories and the inevitable reality.

“What will the future look like?”

Telankar asked himself in a low voice, looking up at the nearby Maserlan Great Temple. The dome looked extremely mysterious under the sun. His steps became slower, his eyes complex and deep. No matter what the future holds, everything that happened in the past 24 days has become an indelible part of his life, imprinted deep in his soul.

However, as the time of departure approached, he felt a deep sense of uneasiness and anxiety. What awaited him in the future was the familiar yet disgusting place, the Black Ark. The chaotic environment, the malice that followed him everywhere, and the hostility hidden in every corner made him never relax for a moment. On the Ark, he slept not to rest, but to stay awake to a minimum to deal with the dagger that might attack from the darkness at any time.

During this time, he felt the beauty of order, security and trust in Chapeiuto. Although there are countless Duruchi here, there are also rules and bottom lines. Whether it is the noisy market on the street or the life-and-death duel in the arena, everything is running in a seemingly simple but extremely powerful order. Even the Lizardmen can live in harmony with the Duruchi, and this kind of harmony is absolutely impossible on the Black Ark.

"I don't want to go back..."

He silently chanted in his heart, and his fists clenched involuntarily. The oppression, cruelty and chaos of the Black Ark made him feel suffocated. Every night, he had to be careful and dared not relax for even a moment. But here, for the first time, he could sleep peacefully and feel relaxed physically and mentally.

"But can I escape?"

He asked himself in a low voice, but he could not answer. As a member of the Tower of Oblivion, he had no choice. The Ark was his home, but also his shackles. He had to go back, but the disgust in his heart was like a thorn that pierced deep into his soul, making him feel painful.

He stopped and looked up at the dome of the Great Temple of Maserlan. The dome, which symbolized order and protection, made him even more miserable. He sighed, slowly raised his hand and touched the amulet hanging on his chest, as if he wanted to draw some comfort from it.

"Matheran...bless me."

His voice was barely audible, but full of pleading and longing. Unconsciously, tears slowly flowed down his face, but he did not wipe them away. He knew that he had tasted the sweetness of order, and returning to chaos would become even more unbearable.

A deep sense of loneliness surrounded him. His steps were heavy and slow, and every step was like dragging a heavy yoke. He walked through the familiar streets, and these scenes seemed to be waving goodbye to him. He knew that the road under his feet led to the dock, to the familiar and malicious black ark, and he was powerless to change all this.

When the outline of the dock came into view, his mood became even heavier. The ships anchored on the water in the distance gave off a suffocating sense of oppression. His steps became slower and slower, and he almost wanted to stop, but in the end he was pushed forward by an invisible force.

On the surrounding docks, the Duruchi were busy moving goods and loading and unloading supplies, and occasional laughter and shouting echoed in the air, but these sounds seemed so far away to Telankar. His eyes stayed on the faces of those Duruchi, trying to find a hint of familiarity or warmth in their expressions, but he saw nothing.

When he finally reached the side of the ship, he stopped. The familiar deck, those malicious eyes, and the chaotic environment were right in front of him.

"At least, I still have you."

He murmured to himself, holding the amulet against his chest, as if this could bring him some comfort. The days of the Black Ark would begin again, and the beautiful memories of order and safety had become the only light in his heart.

"I have to hold on."

He looked up at the distant sea, silently reciting his oath in his heart, promising that no matter how difficult the future would be, he would be as firm as the waves and contribute everything to the will of Matheran.
-
Time passed day by day, and the day of returning north was getting closer.

After the festival and ceremony, Dacus first sent off Siglin, who was worried, and Finarfin, who was confused about the future. The way he sent them off was also very special. He did not send them off with weapons, nor did he send them off at the dock. Instead, he came to the Western Star Pyramid with the help of Master Xia.

He felt that sometimes Asur, or the entire elves, were... hard to say.

The two did not come directly from Twilight Fortress, but came from a lone ship under the pretext of going to Dawn Fortress, and it was natural for them to return to the ship. As for Dawn Fortress, there was no need to go there, as the misunderstanding about the Sunfire Amulet had long been resolved. As for how to explain to the crew, it had nothing to do with him. Siglin returned to Twilight Fortress to continue her lazy work, just like before, while defending the Anureil Peninsula, she monitored Chapeyuto's actions. As for Finarfin, things were a bit noisy. He planned to go back to the Kingdom of Yvresse once after the delegation returned to Ulthuan. There were some things that everyone had to sit down and talk about.

The Asur delegation had no urgency to return to Elsin Arwen. In fact, their journey to the old world had ended long ago. It was just that the elves had a long lifespan and the deadlines for doing things were also longer.

They planned to stay in Chapeyuto for a while. Kaia and Adianna would follow Serenie to study in the cult for a while and learn how to bring some of the cult's patterns, rituals and rules back to the Kingdom of Cosqui and Lauren Loren.

Ulthuan also has a Stormweaver system, but that's it. Ulthuan has its own situation and is not a system. Daxus's idea is to wait for Aedanna to return, use Ulthuan as a shell to develop, and then merge directly after the dust settles. In CK3's words, Aedanna is doing the work of promoting cultural recognition, and then establish a syncretic religion.

Kaia, on the other hand, started from scratch and first established a system in Seatierta in the storm zone. As for whether it would eventually move to the current Marienburg or to Miragliano, that was a matter for the future and there was no rush.

Although Marlene is also a follower of Matheran, she is just learning magic and communicating with Walter on some financial work.

Fenrer stayed in Asherel, developing medicine and psychology, and taking charge of the religious work of the school, building a new Hoeth system in Asherel that could be immediately integrated with the previous one after the dust settled.

Pharmaceutical production is a big expense. Although elves don't get sick very often, they can get injured, so emergency medicines, auxiliary medicines, vaccines and other things are necessary. Daxus is not going to distribute them to Aisha and Asati systems, but to the Hos system.

After all, research needs funding, and we can't always let the Phoenix Court pay for it. It's safe to leave this to the Hos system, and who knows what the Asati system can come up with. Herb cultivation can be carried out in the Kingdom of Safrui. Anyway, there are good lands near the White Tower of Hos. It's a bit too wasteful to use those good lands to grow ordinary crops. When it becomes the main industry of the Kingdom of Safrui, the Phoenix Court can collect taxes in return.

In his vision, each province has its own characteristics, and they should not all have industrial parks and financial industries. Of course, he didn't discuss these things with Fenrir. Talking about these things with a great wizard who is confused about the future... is really a bit weird. Fenrir is not a noble, a businessman, or a Safri, so he has to talk about the future!
His two second sons, Bel-Ahor and Eltharion, served as his adjutants and followed him to Naggaroth to experience the local customs and hospitality of Naggaroth.

At the beginning, Walter's tone was too high. According to conventional politics, it couldn't be raised any higher. What should be done in the face of such a situation?

He mentioned the idea of ​​following Darkeus back to Naggaroth. In his words, the days following Darkeus were the happiest days of his life. He went to the market, marched through the jungle, fought, studied, handled government affairs, etc. No matter what he did, he liked it as long as he could be with Darkeus.

People are not static, and the same is true for elves, but there are a few who can remain static, and Watt is the best example. His personality, experience and encounters are not like those of most Drukhi. He does not have much desire for power, and appears to be somewhat calm and easy-going.

At least that's what Dacus thought, and that's why he chose Walter. He understood Walter's fatigue, and could feel the sincere emotion in his words. This was not a test, nor a request, but a confession from an old friend. He could feel Walter's dependence on him, as if he was not Walter's old friend, but Walter's father.

So a conversation ensued.

"Walter, you are the person I trust the most, no doubt about it. You have made an indelible contribution to Asheril's present state, but I also understand your desire to follow me back to Naggaroth. This is not to follow me, but to regain the life that once made you feel fulfilled and happy." Daxus spoke in a low voice, his tone calm and steady.

Walter didn't say anything, but tapped the table unconsciously with his fingers. He looked a little tired, but there was still a glimmer of expectation and stubbornness in his eyes.

"But I can't let you leave Aishriel. You are needed here. This is not only my decision, but also fate's choice of you. You have injected soul into Aishriel. Without you, Aishriel will be a region without soul."

"Dakeus, thank you. I will do my best to live up to your trust." Walter raised his head, with a little disappointment in his eyes, but more of relief. He understood Dacus's intentions and knew his responsibilities. He was silent for a while, and then nodded gently.

"If you are tired, if you really feel overwhelmed, tell me. I don't want to trap you in this land, but I hope you understand that you are needed here, but you also need to find your own balance. I will resolve the matter between you and Whitney as soon as possible." Daxus' tone softened.

"You are always like this, able to see through everyone's heart. I will persist, persist until a hundred years later." Walter lowered his head and smiled softly.

He was not sentenced to death, nor was he demoted. He was still the Night Warden of Asherel, guarding Asherel and responsible for all work except military affairs.

Walter did not move, but Dorian did. He followed Dacuus back to Naggaroth for a while to carry out the construction of Taliondan and learn military theory. When everything is completed, he will return to Asheril.

The changes in Asheril's military system are not only for Dorian, but also for Vienna. She will return to Naggaroth to carry out construction work and learn theoretical knowledge, while leading a legion and returning to her path as the Lord of Dread.

Baclon stayed in Asherel temporarily, taking over from Garros, and taking charge of the defense and daily work of Potos. Garros became the Valahal of Asherel, guarding Asherel when Dorian was away.

When Dorian returns to Naggaroth, he will take a group of Asheril's garrisons with him. These officers and soldiers will undergo in-depth training in Naggaroth, and some will stay in Naggaroth, while others will follow him back to Asheril. At the same time, he will bring back a group of soldiers from Naggaroth, so that the military framework of both sides will be established. The new population of Asheril and the soldiers transferred from Naggaroth will strengthen the strength of the Asheril garrison.

In Daxus's expectation, the garrison of Asherel will be the first wave when landing, and the fist must be strong, rather than simply and continuously responsible for the defense of Asherel.

When Dorian returns to Asheril, it will be the day when Ba'kron and Garroth return to Naggaroth. They will be promoted to true dread lords and lead the first wave of the army.

Whitney did not move, but she was promoted from the original Night Warden of Ashir City to the Night Warden of Ashir Province. While in charge of the work of the textile factory, she was also responsible for the cultivation of textile plants and occasionally had to solve some technical and equipment problems in Ashir.

Asrai, Vedir, Tyrandor, Seonlan, Kalaona, Athelin, Kerillian and Tilya Silverwing followed him to Naggaroth. Liv and the Thorn Sisters, led by Saralaire Soul Walker, stayed in Asriel, staying in La Plata, to help Alyssa build the Emerald Garden.

Some of the eighty Vaal blacksmiths, or priests, stayed in Asheril; some went to Naggaroth to serve as senior engineers to contribute to Duruchi's war machine.

The Vaal blacksmiths who stayed in Asheril were divided into two groups. Some of them assisted Whitney in his work, and some were sent to Serpent's Rest Island to work with the Skink Priests and craftsmen to forge the advanced equipment that the Lizardmen and Duruchi urgently needed. As for Spikazuma, Coptiti was in charge and did not need Vaal blacksmiths. He could just slowly make the equipment.

On the Aenir side, Talos and Tolandil followed Dacreus to Naggaroth. There were also newcomers, Kaia's cousin Adrel Van Maris and Lindyalock's nephew Karahir Elwyn.

Since the military flag game is a team competition, just as Daxus thought, there are a lot of jokes: when the friendly forces are in trouble, it has nothing to do with me; when the friendly forces are in turmoil, I remain as still as a mountain; when there is meat, jokes about eating it at the same time keep happening.

There is no artistic or aesthetic feeling at all, it's just like a child playing house.

Although the game was messy, we could still see some coordination, tactical qualities and awareness. We discovered some promising players, and Karahir performed relatively well, with a sense of the overall situation, but when it came to the actual operation...

Dacus and Lindyalock are close friends who were born and died on the same day. They have fought and shared the spoils. You must take care of your nephew. He is really good in ability and character. He is calm, cautious, good at hiding his emotions, has a mature thinking mode, and can find a delicate balance. As for martial arts, forget it. It's hard to say. It's eye-catching. His archery is only at the average level of Enil.

As a serious civilian, Karahir gave two options: one was to go to Tariendan to work as a staff officer, and the other was to serve as his adjutant and engage in military logistics management.

Without any hesitation, Karahir chose option 2 and became Daquus's adjutant.

Asanok and Melehi Alwyn stayed in Asherel, helping Alyssa build the Emerald Gardens; Ryan, as the deputy propaganda minister, learned from Liariel and presided over Asherel's propaganda work; Gavino and Elanor stayed in Rosario Province, serving Asuryan and teaching Asherel's garrison how to use long-handled battle axes. Later... maybe they will fight together with Asherel's garrison, or maybe they will fight together with the Phoenix Guard? It depends on the situation at that time.

Estel Celadre, the spy of Queen Marest, was not responsible for the trade connection between Duruchi and Ainir, which was Kaia's job. So, she was taken to Naggaroth by Dacus, and in Dacus' words: If you want to see, see enough.

There was no change on the Duruchi side. Malagos chose to stay in Asherel to teach, and Ilanya became an Asati priest and started the Asati sect in Asherel. Apart from that, they all followed Dacreus back to Naggaroth.

Daxus asked Kallion again if he had any thoughts of staying in Chapeiuto as a trainer, and Kallion made the same choice this time as last time.

Looking around, everything in front of me seemed to be covered by a gray veil. Every familiar face was a person with strong nepotism. Behind every appointment letter, you can see the two words "nepotism" written prominently. These two words, like a brand, are deeply engraved in every corner of the entire system.

Every position and every decision is closely linked to blood ties and family affection.

However, Dacus was not surprised. He had long been accustomed to this phenomenon. After all, he grew up in such a system and learned to be at ease under this rule. For him, this was just part of the game, and he had learned how to use it all for his own benefit.

Moreover, he really had no one to use, so after returning to Naggaroth and when the situation was more stable, he would do as he had thought at the beginning, taking advantage of the large number of people, the entire Naggaroth stage, and trying to find as many talents as possible, and recruit some special skills.

Daxus raised his hand and waved gracefully at the group of Druki, Asur, lizardmen and behemoths on the dock. His eyes passed through the dock and scanned the city that was gradually moving away. The faces that had accompanied him through countless complicated moments were now separated by the ships that were moving farther and farther away. He knew that although he had left these familiar lands, everything was not over yet, and the future still needed him to write.

As the ship gradually sailed towards the sea, the oncoming wind blew his hair, and the salty smell of the sea water mixed in the air, fresh and stimulating. The oblique sails fluttered in the wind, making bursts of sound, and the hull rose and fell with the waves, gradually approaching the location of the Vicious Temple.

Dacus stood at the bow with a firm gaze, as if he could see the distant future through the vast ocean. He knew that the road ahead would be full of challenges and opportunities, but he was ready to face it all.

"Nagalos, I'm back!" (End of this chapter)