Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

Naga Rosler, Naga Londe.

A catacomb lies beneath the tower that was once the fortress of Ores, now shrouded in taboo and shadow. Ores and his family were outed as followers of Slaanesh long ago. The glory of the dread lord was shattered overnight, and the name of his family became one of the taboos of Naggarond.

Since Ores was stripped of his title of Lord of Terror, the spire has been without an owner. No new Lord of Terror dared to openly claim this taboo-ridden spire as his own, and on the surface it became an abandoned place. But the apparent quietness did not mean that no one was involved in secret. In fact, the deep tombs under the tower have become the most secret gathering place. At night, when the eternal lead-gray sky gradually dims, when the two moons rise into the sky and the silver light shines down, this place becomes the secret social center for the nobles of Naggarond.

Of course, this does not include Malekith and his cronies, but it is not absolute.

The midnight tomb was shrouded in mystery and danger, and faint echoes echoed in the winding passage. Hirsis, who had just left a secret conspiracy, walked cautiously in the passage, his eyes as sharp as obsidian, and his ears alertly capturing the slightest movement around him. Every step was taken lightly and slowly, and the footsteps were almost inaudible.

Even the slightest sound of wind or water dripping from the wall could make his heart beat faster. He knew that any negligence here could lead to fatal danger, and even the ally who just sat side by side could instantly turn into an executioner who took his life.

The passage was filled with the moist scent of ancient stone, and the air was occasionally mixed with a faint smell of blood, which made him think of how much blood and betrayal this place had witnessed in the past. His fingers unconsciously clenched the edge of his cloak, wrapping it tighter. His eyes swept across the narrow corridors on both sides. The dim braziers and the slightly swaying lights reflected the hideous wall reliefs. Each carving carried a unique sense of coldness and oppression, as if warning him: There is no real safety here.

After walking for a while, his eyes caught a glimpse of a shadow in front of him.

A female Druki slowly walked from the depths of the passage. She was wearing a flowing black dress, and the fabric glowed like silk under the dim light. Her chest was made of a lace net made of tiny pearls and broken sapphires, which seemed to condense the light of the stars and illuminate the passage. Her long dark hair was tied up in an exquisite golden and jade bun. Her makeup was not gaudy, but she exuded an irresistible and dangerous charm.

Her skin was as pale as alabaster, reflecting the cold luster unique to the shadows of the tomb. Her beautiful and flawless features were depicted with a cold and fierce determination, as if declaring her indomitable spirit and majesty. Her eyes were like two balls of cold flames, burning with an unshakable will. Every aspect and every detail made Hirsis feel an unspeakable contradiction, which made him feel both desire and fear.

Her steps were solemn and calm, and her elegant figure exuded an oppressive feeling that could not be ignored. She walked slowly towards Hirsis, and the light and shadow stretched behind her, as if annotating her every step.

Hirsis's tense nerves relaxed a little after he saw who was coming. It was not an enemy, but a temporary friend, the sorceress Hemara, with whom he had worked many times. He took a deep breath, concealed the vigilance on his face, and replaced it with a calm expression.

"Is it over?" Hemara's voice was cold and steady, like the breeze in a tomb, carrying a hint of inviolable majesty. She stood still and looked at Hirsis, the cold flame in her eyes still flickered.

"You asked an unnecessary question, my dear Hemara." Hirsis tried to lower his voice, trying not to be so loud, but he couldn't hide the fatigue and alertness in his voice. He nodded to Hemara, motioning her to walk together, and the footsteps echoed in the narrow passage of the tomb.

"I asked this question not because I really want to hear the answer, but because I want to confirm... whether you can still escape from the conspiracy of that group of powerful people." Hemara raised her chin slightly, raised her eyebrows lightly, and a hint of coldness appeared at the corners of her mouth.

"In Dacus's words, it depends on how you define it? Escaped unscathed... Indeed, I am still alive and have not been tripped by their empty lies." Hirsis curled his lips and did not comment. He looked down at the dark stone slabs under his feet, and each step left a faint mark in the dust. He raised his head, his eyes a little cold, "But you also know that any Duruchi who sets foot in such a place has already..."

"Very good, Hirsis, it seems you are smarter than I expected. Put away your damn self-blame, no one can keep this place clean, this land is in chaos, and everyone is talking about betrayal." Hemara slowed down her pace a little and walked side by side with Hirsis, "What I care more about is, have they mentioned to you... something deeper?"

"Something deeper?" Hirsis pretended to be relaxed, but his steps slowed down subconsciously. He glanced at Hemala, trying to get more information from her expression.

"Hilsis, come on. That organization, the tricks of Tigasus, or rather, those shadows hidden deep in Nagarond? ... Did they mention anything?"

Hirsis did not answer immediately. They turned a corner and the passage ahead became narrower. The sparse candlelight on the wall cast flickering light and shadows on Hemala's pale and delicate face, making her look even more mysterious.

"They said some vague things to me, not very serious or itchy. It was a test to let Dorian become the Night Warden of Asriel. Huh? Hahahaha! It's full of nonsense. Do you think... I'm someone they trust?" Hilsis' voice was low, with a hint of sarcasm.

"Trust? Ha, Hirsis, you used to be the protagonist, at least for a while. You know, they only trust the dead and slaves. You are not one of them, and they will never trust you. They are testing you, which means you are still valuable to them, but it doesn't matter anymore. I don't think they can survive when the sun disappears, even though the sun has not risen yet." Hemara stopped, turned and looked directly at Hirsis, tilting her head slightly, with a cold smile on her face, her tone sharp and decisive.

"You know, what they said is not important. What's important is who participated!" Hirsis said casually, and then changed the subject. "I suddenly remembered that a long time ago, the two of us went to capture the Black Blade. Do you still remember it?"

"Of course, my memory is very good," Hemara's mouth corners slightly raised, revealing a sneer, "A bastard, a clown who wanted to make some trouble in Naggaroth." She waved her hand gently, as if to dispel the dust in her memory that was not worth mentioning, "But I have to say, he was indeed a trouble, and he caused a big commotion in the end. Do you remember his last words?"

"Of course I remember. When we caught him, he kept cursing and saying that we were no different from those powerful people. 'Nagaros will never change', that's what he said, right?" Hirsis did not answer directly, but raised his eyebrows and looked at Hemara with a smile.

"What he said is not entirely unreasonable, just like today... all this, Hirsis, before Daxus appeared, the darkness of Naggaroth was like an abyss. Whoever tried to change it was doomed to be swallowed up." Hemara nodded, a hint of complexity flashed across her eyes. She paused, and her voice became low. "But the problem is, we are not doing too badly in the abyss, right?"

"Ha, not a bad swim? Hemara, our existence is to avoid being swallowed by the abyss, not to swim beautifully." Hilcis shook his head with a wry smile on his face.

"You know, Hilsis, we are not always forced to adapt to the abyss. Occasionally, we can choose to change something, even if it's just a small thing. What about you? Will you choose to continue to adapt or try to change? I believe you already have the answer, right?" Hemara stopped, turned and stared at Hilsis, her tone suddenly becoming serious.

"Change... is difficult, but necessary. Black Blade's last words have haunted me for a long time. Are we also like those immutable gears he mentioned, only turning longer and deeper?" Hillsis lowered his head in thought, slowing down his pace.

“Not everyone can stay awake in the abyss…” Hemara’s eyes became sharp again, like a dagger shining with cold light.

"The fact that we can still talk about the past like Black Blade is proof of our clarity of mind. Anyone who is not afraid of Malekith is either a madman or a fool, isn't he? As long as there is any chance, I cannot deny my fear of him, even if he has changed and become different from before." Hirsis shrugged with a wry smile.

"Sometimes I really envy you. You made the right choice at the right time, you and your son. But I didn't even have the chance to choose." Hemaara's voice became softer, but there was still a hint of emotion in her tone. She paused and looked up at the faint light at the end of the tomb passage, as if trying to see some answer from the light. "But don't forget, the story of Black Blade often reminds us that there is never a lack of ambition or losers in the abyss."

"What are your plans for the future?" Hirsis followed silently, slightly tilting his head to look at Hemara's profile. On that pale but elegant face, there seemed to be a trace of fatigue and determination. He wanted to ask something, hesitated for a moment, and finally spoke.

"Me? You know, some things are not up to me." Hemaara laughed, but there was no relaxed arc on the corners of her mouth. She paused, and her tone had a hint of distant yearning. "I want to change my life, a different life from before... I don't want to swim in the abyss anymore. I often ask myself if I am still awake... I don't want to be trapped by these endless conspiracies, disguises and calculations. I think... maybe the kind and generous Daquus will meet my small request?"

"He will. If it's your request, I believe he will seriously consider it. He is never stingy with loyal and capable followers, and he can make you satisfied." Hirsis raised his eyebrows and showed a rare, barely perceptible smile.

"A loyal and capable follower? Are you praising me?" Hemara turned her head and looked at Hirsis with a complicated look in her eyes.

"Isn't it? Even if the abyss is full of losers, there are always some people who can swim better than others, live longer than others, and are more sober. You happen to be the latter." Hilcis spread his hands and said casually.

"Hilsis, sometimes I wonder, do we really live longer than others? Or are we just struggling in the abyss for a little longer, waiting to be dragged into the darkness one day?" Hemara sneered, but did not refute. After a moment, her pace slowed down and her tone became a little lower.

"Maybe. But as long as we still have a choice, we can't give up easily. The abyss is still the abyss, but if there is a chance, I still hope that we can find something brighter than the abyss. I believe... Dacus can do it!" Hirsis was silent for a moment, his eyes complicated. He raised his head and looked at the gradually expanding light at the end of the passage, and answered softly.

"Something bright? Then let us wait and see whether Daquus's mercy can illuminate this abyss." Hemara continued to move forward, but a faint smile appeared at the corner of her mouth.

After walking for a while, they saw a figure at the end of the dark corridor. Dia, the butler of the Hell Disaster Family, was standing there.

"Does it have a tail?"

Dia was dressed in a neat black robe and looked calm and precise, like a perfectly functioning machine. When he noticed Hemara and Hirsis, he tilted his head slightly, glanced back warily, and asked in a low voice.

"Maybe? Maybe not?" Hemaara smiled slightly, with a hint of confidence in her tone. She lowered her head and gently brushed the hem of her long skirt. Her pale and slender fingers seemed to still retain the afterglow of casting a spell. "But in any case, they are lost in the fog."

"Come with me."

Dia nodded and spoke briefly, then raised his hand and knocked on the stone door behind him with a dull and powerful sound.

After a moment, the stone door slowly opened with a mechanical roar, revealing a secret passage leading to the Hell's Disaster Family's mansion.

Hemara and Hirsis exchanged a brief glance, followed the butler into this strange and depressing passage, walked through the winding stairs and walls covered with family emblems, and soon they came to an exquisite room in the mansion. The room was covered with dark purple carpets, the walls were decorated with obsidian-carved family emblems, and the fireplace burned with blue flames, reflecting a dark and noble atmosphere.

"As expected of the Hell's Disaster Family, whether in Clarkarond or Naggarond, their pomp and circumstance remain the same. Perhaps this is the heritage of a thousand years?" Hemara glanced around the exquisitely decorated room, with a faint smile on her lips. "But pomp and circumstance cannot determine everything. Every detail here shows that they have a clear understanding of their position and how many enemies they have in Naggaroth." Hirsis walked to the fireplace, frowned slightly and looked at the jumping blue flames. His voice was low, but with a hint of calm thinking.

A moment later, the housekeeper Dia appeared at the door again, bowed slightly, nodded to Hemala and Hirsis, and then made an elegant gesture of guidance. The movement was clean and neat, without a trace of drag.

They followed Dia through a long and narrow passage and soon came to another relatively small room with a depressing atmosphere. Although the room was small, it was shrouded in a strong atmosphere of power. The four people in the room were all important figures in Naggaroth.

In the center of the room stood a square table carved from a whole piece of obsidian. The surface of the table glowed coldly, and the edges were engraved with complex runes and elegant decorative patterns. The four people sitting around the table were the Night Lords Anasara and Valahar Nukel of Clarkarond, and the Night Lords Draka and Valahar Chagorosh from Hag Graef. These four people were not only the core figures of their respective cities, but also the representatives of power that played a decisive role in Naggaroth.

The layout of the room exudes a mysterious atmosphere. The walls are hung with dark silk and dark gold relief paintings. There are faint magic lamps burning in the four corners, casting a lavender halo. Even more eye-catching are the pots of exotic plants placed on the edge of the table. These plants are slightly shiny under the light, revealing an ominous beauty.

Draka and Chagorosh each held a pipe in their mouths. The smoke they exhaled did not spread out, but was slowly absorbed by a pot of strange plants on the edge of the table. The leaves of this plant were dark green, and the broad leaves grew in an interlaced pattern. As the smoke was inhaled, it trembled slightly, as if it was taking some kind of slow breath.

Next to Newkle were two pots of plants, one on each side...

If Dacus were here, he would definitely say: A child with a mother is like a treasure.

When Hemala and Hirsis stepped into the room, everyone's eyes were focused on them at the same time. The sharp gaze like a knife made Hirsis and Hemala's steps pause slightly, but they soon regained their usual composure.

"Look who's here?" Annasara said, her voice calm and majestic, her eyes swept over the two of them, like a cold scrutinizing blade.

"You have a good sense of timing. We haven't even started yet." There was a hint of mockery in Draka's tone. He gently raised his pipe and sprayed the smoke towards the plants beside him, which were instantly absorbed.

Chagorosh did not speak. His eyes swept over the two of them, and finally stopped at Hirsis's face. The corners of his lips slightly raised, with a faint smile. Then he looked at the table again, and his slender fingers tapped rhythmically on the tabletop. Each tap seemed to carry a faint pressure.

"My old friend, I thought you wouldn't come. After all, the conditions over there are more attractive... aren't they?" Newcker exhaled a puff of smoke, his tone full of ridicule and mockery.

"What a joke, anyone who doesn't fear Malekith is either crazy or a fool, isn't he? Now with Darkius added to the mix, those people don't know what they're facing."

Newker smiled, with a playful gleam in his eyes. The pipe in his hand trembled slightly, and smoke rose up, as if applauding Hillis's answer.

After saying this, Hirsis walked towards the wine table by the wall and poured himself a glass of crimson wine without hesitation. After drinking it in one gulp, he burped. Then he took out a beautifully carved pipe from his arms. As the tobacco was lit, smoke slowly rose and spread around him. Holding the pipe, he walked towards the round table, glanced at the people sitting around, and then stood opposite Annasara.

Hemala had already stood beside Anasara, with her hands folded in front of her, and a cold calmness in her eyes, as if she was the only person in this party who was not disturbed by the outside world.

"Let's get started." Annasara's voice was as calm as ever. She tapped the table lightly with her fingertips, without a trace of emotion in her tone.

Hirsis nodded. He knew very well that Annasara was not fond of the smell of cigarettes, so he deliberately blew a puff of smoke towards the smoking plant on the table. The smoke was quickly absorbed by the plant, as if it had never existed.

"Ok."

After saying this, he put down his pipe, picked up the paper and pen on the table and began to write and draw. His movements were quick and precise, and the lines on the paper gradually became more complicated. His brows were slightly furrowed, and he was fully focused on his work.

"Are you writing a suicide note? Or are you painting a portrait of yourself? Going to hang it in the corridor?" Draka watched Hirsis's actions with interest and joked in a low voice.

"If this is really a suicide note, don't worry, I will mention you more in my will and add some information about your deeds." Hirsis didn't look up. He knew what Draka was talking about, and he didn't get angry about it. He just replied casually.

Everyone smiled slightly at his teasing, but the air was still filled with a sense of oppression, as if every stroke on the table affected their future destiny.

After a moment, Hirsis finally put down his pen, his eyes narrowed slightly, and a sneer appeared on the corner of his mouth. There were no images or complicated marks on the paper, only rows of densely packed names, neatly arranged from top to bottom. Each name was written coldly, without a trace of emotion, as if... not as if, but a ruthless death list. He took a deep breath of the smoke from his pipe, raised his head, and looked at the list with burning eyes.

"This is what you wanted, my old friend." His voice was low and solemn as he put down his pipe. He pushed the list aside and gently pushed it in front of Newkle with his fingers. With the sound of the list sliding, the air in the room froze instantly, and everyone's eyes were focused on the list.

"These people are the participants of the last midnight conspiracy." His voice was low and powerful, with a threat that could not be ignored. "They need to be liquidated!"

Hirsis was particularly busy today. After midnight, that is, the beginning of a new day, he accepted the invitation of Tigasus and participated in the midnight conspiracy. This was also the reason why Hermara was waiting in the passage. After all, Hermara had played a trick on Tigasus once a few years ago.

The reason why Tigarthus invited him was very simple. His current identity was the Dread Lord of Naggarond, not the Night Warden of Naggarond, so he was still considered an insider. The fact that he had become the Night Warden had not been announced yet. Except for a small number of people who knew about it, others still regarded him as Malekith's lieutenant.

He didn't have to go, but he went anyway. He wanted to see who would participate in this, and final, midnight conspiracy.

Newkle slowly lowered his head and scanned the list, his brows slightly furrowed. The names on the list were arranged in rows, like some kind of ominous omen, and each name was like a crime engraved on a stone tablet, which could not be escaped. He was not unfamiliar with these names. Almost all the people on the list had friendships with him. Some of them were even his "old friends". They had shared glory and failure together, fought side by side on the battlefield of blood and fire, or had business dealings with each other, but now, all of this has become a thing of the past.

Today, I have no friends anymore.

"Do you say they are crazy or fools? Or... both?" He exhaled a puff of smoke gently, as if recalling the memories these names brought him. These former allies and partners are now just lambs to be slaughtered, waiting for the upcoming reckoning. He raised his head and spoke softly, with a hint of teasing in his tone.

"I don't think it's important. What's important is..." Hirsis didn't answer immediately, but stared at the list silently, with the corners of his mouth slightly raised, as if waiting for a response. After a moment, he shook his head gently, his tone low and cold. He paused, his eyes suddenly sharp, looking directly at Newkle, "They won't survive today!"

The air in the room froze again, and almost everyone present could feel the murderous intent in Hirsis's words. A glimmer flashed in Hemala's eyes, and she knew that there was no turning back. Anasara's eyes were deep, as if she had seen a moment in the future, at that moment, all the names on the list would disappear in the long river of history.

"That's right." Newker replied softly, as if confirming some kind of predestined fate.

Draka and Chagorosh were still smoking, and the smoke on the table seemed to symbolize the chaos and turmoil that was about to break out. There was no more communication between the two, they just looked at the pipes in their hands coldly, they knew that this reckoning had actually begun a long time ago.

"Let's do it." Annasara's voice was low and calm, as if she was simply directing a game. However, every word was like a fire magic ready to explode at any time.

"I'm in charge here. They will be on combat alert." Newkel stretched out his finger and tapped lightly on the unfolded map on the table.

In the center of the map is Naggarond, with the surrounding terrain clearly visible. On the northern plains, densely packed chess pieces represent the garrisons of various legions.

His fingertips slid across the map, landing on the chess pieces representing the armies of Clar Karond. The armies were very close to the northern walls of Naggarond, lined up in a row, showing the huge force he could mobilize. These were Clar Karond's troops, and behind each chess piece was the power he could control.

Draka said nothing, but silently looked down at the list in his hand, as if calculating his next move. He then raised his head and glanced at Chagorosh.

"Hage Graves is in charge here!" Chagorosh broke the silence, and then pointed his finger at an area in the west of the plain on the map. That was where the troops that Haage Graves could mobilize were. His voice was calm and firm without any fluctuation.

"Where is Dacus?" Hirsis asked in a low voice with a hint of anticipation.

Ana Sara did not rush to answer, but quietly stared at the table. After a moment, she gently raised her right hand, and her fingertips moved slightly. The energy in the air gathered into an invisible force with her movements. As her fingertips moved, the energy wrapped around a special chess piece on the table. The chess piece slowly rose in the air, emitting a faint glow, as if being pulled by some invisible gravity, and gradually floated above her palm.

After playing with it for a while, the chess piece finally floated steadily for a moment, and then slowly floated on the map and landed steadily in a position in the southeast, aptly marking the location of Daxus, on the Sea of ​​Malice southeast of Naggarond.

"Here, he will arrive at noon. When he arrives, the Dark Council will begin!" Her voice was calm and powerful. Her fingertip pointed to the southeast of the map. Her eyes were deep, with an unquestionable power. (End of this chapter)