Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

Ulthuan, Kingdom of Nagarythe.

It was fate, or perhaps luck, that Alandrian happened to be in the ring of mountains when the sea swallowed up Nagarythe.

Following Druki's defeat in the final battle, he led the remnants of his army into the swamps rather than following Malekith and Morathi to escape to Tar Anlek, believing that the capital of Nagarythe would serve as a prison rather than a refuge when the armies of Imrik laid siege. However, he had no idea that those he had served would have such mad plans and do such crazy things.

When the northern tide swept everything and turned the entire Nagaryth into an ocean, he, as the former lord of Aesor Talarian, and his warriors watched the huge wave come with terrifying power, sweeping away everything in its path.

Nagaryath became a sunken land, its highest mountains turned into islands, and its cities, villages, and farmlands were all swallowed up by the sea.

That was four days ago. Like everyone else, he was shocked by the disaster, but he was an opportunist, and he hadn't changed in a thousand years. After the old order was destroyed, only capable people could become the new masters of this broken land. Under his leadership, the few remaining troops went deep into the valley and marched towards a settlement of the Anar family.

He was going to capture the village and convert the inhabitants into his service. This would be a humble beginning. He had accompanied Malekith on his expedition to Elshin Arwen, conquered the wilderness, and had played a major role in the founding of the colony. Now, he would begin his campaign anew in this valley.

But soon, an ominous sign appeared. The scouts sent out failed to send back the noon report on time. He immediately ordered the team to stop and sent more soldiers to look for the missing scouts. However, when the sun gradually set, these newly sent soldiers did not return either.

At this time, he had two choices, one was to camp where he was, and the other was to withdraw from the valley. After some consideration, he decided to hold his position instead of retreating in the dark. He knew that the rebels knew these lands much better than he did, and they must have already chosen the best place to ambush and wait for his retreat.

Soldiers lit bonfires at the edge of the camp to dispel the encroaching darkness. Crossbowmen with repeating crossbows stood guard on the perimeter, careful not to be reflected in the firelight, while Dreadspearmen formed a defensive circle around Alandrian.

When the sun disappeared, the warriors of the Anar family began to show their whereabouts. Arrows shot from the shadows, and more than a dozen warriors fell down. Then the crisp echo of the crossbows responded with a counterattack. But the shouts of the crossbowmen revealed their frustration. The rebels were wearing gray and green cloaks, blending into the rocks and bushes, and their figures shuttled in the night like ghosts.

"Push westward!"

After a stalemate, Alandrian gave an order to a captain. He made a mistake in judgment. The rebels were stronger than he thought. If they stayed here, their morale and order would be destroyed, and the troops would definitely not be able to hold out until dawn.

"Take two hundred warriors and engage those elusive enemies. If possible, open a path for us to evacuate."

After receiving the order, the captain broke out of the camp without hesitation. At this time, more arrows attacked from the darkness, but he still followed the order and led the soldiers into the hazy night.

Alandrian stayed where he was, boosting morale, but he could not stop more warriors from falling in the rain of arrows. The wounded were crawling in the long grass, and their groans and cries disturbed his hearing, but he still listened carefully, hoping to hear the sound of weapons colliding when breaking through and fighting the enemy. However, apart from the wailing of the wounded, there was only the sound of the wind, the creaking of branches, and the rustling of leaves.

After realizing that the bonfire was only helping the enemy and not benefiting his own attack, he ordered the fire to be extinguished. In the darkness, he tried to catch the moving figures in the camp, but could only see a fleeting blur. From time to time, a cold light suddenly appeared, and the next moment an arrow cut through the air and shot a warrior. The crossbowmen held a burst of crossbows and fired dense crossbows, but they never heard any screams or sounds of being hit by arrows from the enemy.

Soon after, Alandrian heard a sound coming from the west, but that sound was not what he wanted. The screams from the west tore through the night sky, and the voices of calling for help and begging for mercy soon fell silent, and then the intensity of the rain of arrows increased again. He knew that the breakout had failed, he could feel the panic of the warriors, he knew that the warriors were about to collapse, he did not want to be left behind in the retreat, so he ran towards the hills.

He had just run less than two hundred steps when he saw a lone figure appear under the moonlight, with an arrow on a silver bow. He sighed, he knew who the figure was, he was facing the leader of the rebels, the one he had captured before, Aris Anar, who called himself the "King of Shadows".

He stood there calmly, ready to face death, but the arrow shot him in the thigh. He lost his support and fell to the ground, but he did not crawl hard to escape from here, but tried not to let himself groan in pain, turned his body over, looked at the double moon in the night sky, and knew that he did not have much time left.

Soon, a shadow enveloped him, and then a boot kicked him hard in the head.

"You don't run away. That's good. I don't have to spend time chasing you!" Before he was about to lose consciousness, he heard a voice, and then he lost consciousness.

When he woke up again, he found himself leaning against something hard, and it was dark all around him, but in the light of the fire, he saw that his hands were tied, the rope was wrapped around the branches of the small tree behind him, and his ankles were tied to the arched structure of the tree roots by another rope. When he was fully awake, he realized that there were a group of people around him, most of whom were children.

"I have been looking forward to this moment for a long time. Alandrian, the father of Hellebron the 'Butcher of Kosqui'!" Aris pulled down his hood and walked out of the crowd.

"Kill me, just do it!" There was only calmness in Alandrian's words.

"No, your death will not be so swift. You must pay for the torment and pain you have brought to others."

"So, you plan to leave me here? Starve me to death?" The crowd began to leave gradually. As the crowd dispersed, Alandrian saw some cottages built with logs at the bottom of the slope not far away. He smiled strangely, knowing what these newly built cottages represented, and then he looked at Aris calmly.

"Too fast..." Aris shook his head and continued, "The children will come to feed you food and give you water every day. They will grow up day by day, and they will look at the scum who destroyed their homeland."

"That's it? You're going to keep me a prisoner?" Alandrian laughed.

"The elves have long lives, and they will watch the trees grow very tall." Aris looked up at the tree where Alandrian was tied, and then he turned to leave. Before he was about to leave, he turned his head again, "Remember this, as time goes by, the rope will become tighter and tighter, and never forgive!"
-
Aris did not kill Alandrian directly, but chose a slow torture method, tying Alandrian to a tree, making Alandrian face his past and witness how those who suffered because of him grew up. This torture is not only physical, but also mental, making Alandrian feel the weight of "never forgiveness" for a long time.

Alandrian is tied to a tree, symbolizing that he must face his sins, being fixed to his past mistakes like a tree, while his situation becomes even more bleak in contrast to the newly built cottages, which are a symbol of hope and represent the gradual recovery of his destroyed homeland.

The life of an elf is long, and Aris takes advantage of this to let the children grow up gradually and learn to understand "hatred". His plan is to pass this hatred down from generation to generation.

The rope will become tighter and tighter, which is a metaphor. It not only refers to the physical rope that will gradually tighten due to the passage of time and the growth of the tree, but also means that Alandrian's crimes will deepen his notoriety in the memory of others over time, and eventually leave him with no way to escape.

but now……

After Ares shot that arrow, he knew he had no chance, Morathi would not give him a chance to shoot a second arrow. The next moment, he was still standing there, squinting his eyes, and began to doubt his own eyes and judgment, because it was a scene he had never seen before, not even in the most bizarre nightmares.

In just a short moment, the figure passed by as the dragon swooped down, like a gust of wind passing through his sight. The strong wind raised by the dragon blew his cloak into disarray, and also disturbed his thoughts. He couldn't help but look, but he only saw the back of the dragon and the figure gradually going away.

This is impossible, absolutely impossible.

Alandrian was long dead, his body should have rotted into dust, and his name became a shadow in a thousand stories of hatred.

But at this moment, that familiar face, that cold expression, that arrogant posture, was standing there alive, wearing the gorgeous dragon armor that Aris had seen in the family library when he was a child, and exuding a terrifying aura.

He looked so majestic, as if the entire Naggaroth was submitting to him.

"This is impossible!"

Ares growled in a low voice, his lips trembling uncontrollably. He didn't know if he had seen it wrong, but that brief glimpse stirred up a huge wave in his heart. He shook his head hard, trying to erase the figure from his mind, but no matter what, the familiar outline kept lingering.

He rubbed his eyes, hoping that this was just an illusion. It might be the exhaustion of the past few days that made him have absurd associations. However, the figure was real. When they looked at each other, the figure stared at him with an oppressive look.

"He's dead! This is impossible! He can't be back!"

His chest was heaving violently, and he stepped back, but his legs began to weaken uncontrollably. He forced himself to calm down, telling himself that it was just an illusion, or just another similar existence.

His brain told him that this was a nightmare, but his body stubbornly believed that this was reality. He subconsciously reached for his silver bow, but found that his hands were shaking slightly, and the string sounded slow and difficult to pull.

"No! It can't be him! He's dead!"

He shook his head frantically, but nothing broke his illusion.

After a long time, he finally calmed down and figured it out. The figure he saw was definitely not the long-dead Alandrian, but most likely Alandrian's descendant, and this descendant was far more terrifying and powerful than Alandrian.

Perhaps this was why Lilith had guided him to Naggaroth.

Soon, another question came to his mind. Who was the figure standing next to the figure? Where had he seen it before? Not long ago, decades ago, in Ulthuan, in Lothern, in the Phoenix Court, but he couldn't remember it for a moment.

After a moment, he had already re-entered the woods and stood there in a daze. He then remembered.

"Why is he here? Shouldn't he be in Elsing Alvin?"

(Why did he stop doing reading comprehension after this reaction?)
-
Dacus leaned against the rail of the raiding ship, his head slightly lowered, a lit pipe in his mouth, and the arrow that pierced Sulefit's head between his fingers.

The whistling cold wind swept across the deck, brushing his long hair with a bone-chilling chill. He didn't look at anyone, but just stared at the arrow in his hand, as if trying to see something from it. But the arrow just lay quietly in his palm, with a faint metallic luster, which made his face even gloomier.

Not far away, Drusala, Haglin, Alatar, and several sorceresses gathered around Colonia, their faces filled with worry.

Colonia was in a very bad condition. Her eyes turned black as she curled up, her fingers tightly grasping the deck, and there was still black blood at the corner of her mouth. Her breathing was rapid and disordered, and every time she vomited, it seemed to drain all the strength out of her body. Drusala half-knelt beside her, gently supporting her shoulders with one hand, and constantly casting spells with the other hand to try to relieve her pain.

However, no matter how hard Drusala tried, her condition did not improve, but fortunately it did not worsen.

She gained the effect of the magic eye, which made her blindness impossible to remove in any way for a period of time. However, the magic eye effect only lasted for a period of time and was not permanent. According to her strength, it might be restored in the next second, tomorrow, or next month.

In addition to the evil eye, there is also nausea.

Vomiting uncontrollably, bringing up vomit that smells worse than anything your body can produce.

She had already vomited several times and had nothing left to vomit. Fortunately, she was strong enough to avoid the backlash of the magic wind, that is, her body exploding...

Dacus glanced at the scene over there, frowning slightly, but he didn't go over. He knew that these sorceresses were experienced, and if they were helpless, his presence would be useless. He exhaled a puff of smoke and returned his gaze to the arrow in his hand.

Without a doubt, he failed.

In addition to the bumps and bruises sustained during the dive, Colonia was the most seriously injured. She failed to counterattack and was hit back, causing adverse reactions.

Just like some fantasy novels, to break through oneself, one needs to overcome a tribulation and go through extremely dangerous obstacles. The counterattack mission was not deliberately arranged by him, but was fought for by Colonia himself. According to his old B's thinking, he should adopt a team approach, that is, a group fight...

Perhaps in the near future, Colonia, which has already stepped one foot into legend, will take the other foot.

Except for Colonia, the other sorceresses were safe and sound. There was no explosion or crash of the assault ship. Moreover, during the pursuit, they did not engage in actual combat but only operated the assault ship.

If we follow Dacus's idea... Fortunately, none of this happened.

Splintwin, Skarandil, Kudnos, Azogallon, Ibas and Carmine threw away the meaningless chains and seats and transformed into dragonborn forms again. They gathered together and talked in what they thought was a low voice. Kudnos gestured with his hands to show the flight trajectory just now. They reviewed the entire operation and occasionally laughed and teased each other's mistakes.

Although the pursuit failed, they did not look depressed. Instead, they were tired and resentful.

Maranul was walking around, organizing the soldiers to build a defense circle. The soldiers, whose morale was somewhat low, moved quickly, placing the equipment removed from the dragon's spine on a high point, adjusting the angle of the crossbow to point at the forest, and keeping a vigilant eye on the surrounding movements.

Daxus looked away again, and after a moment, his body trembled, and he was amused.

Talos kicked Eltharion into the deep snow, causing him to fall flat on his face. Gilead and Kerillian, who were standing guard with bows, had no intention of pulling Eltharion up, but watched the joke and smiled and praised Talos.

After seeing Aris, Eltharion became insane and started to talk endlessly. When he was on the dragon head, he made Dacus very annoyed, and when he landed, he started to torture others.

Fortunately, Dakwus was an extraordinary person, and he had already practiced it. He did not explode due to the failure of the pursuit and the endless nagging, and instead transferred his anger to Eltharion.

Come to think of it, he could understand why Eltharion was like this. Naggaroth and Ulthuan were in a war standoff.

Originally, Eltharion was supposed to visit Elsin Arwen with Finnubar's delegation.

As a result, he came directly to Naggaroth, from one continent to another. His identity was a secret. Like a thief, he had a strong sense of stealing.

As a result, Eltharion was discovered before he even set foot on Naggaroth, and he was discovered by Aris.

Yes, Eltharion had never set foot on the land of Naggaroth before. He had always been on the dragon's body. Only after the pursuit failed did he officially set foot on this cold land.

No one can accept this. It is normal to be mentally shaken and uneasy for a while.

Dacreus stood up and walked over to Istharion's side, but he had no intention of pulling up Istharion, who had already turned over and was looking at the sky blankly. He squatted aside and looked at Istharion quietly.

"What should we do?" Isharion asked blankly when Dacus appeared from his sight. "What do you mean by what? And how many times have you repeated this sentence from just now to now?" Dacus's calm words revealed patience and persuasion. After a pause, he said, "What can we do? Just do it!"

"Is this also part of your plan?" Eltharion sat up from the ground and stared at Dacreus.

Daxus didn't say anything, but pointed his left index finger at Eltharion, looked at the people around him, and smiled.

"Am I that bad?"

Talos's expression was calm in response to Dacus's question. From Laurent Loren to Kor Vanas, from Athel Loren to Lustria, and from Asheril to Naggaroth, he had seen too much along the way, and his mentality had long since changed. He and Gilead had encountered the same thing, but Gilead was lucky, and he...

He could only follow Dacus, because he knew that among all the elves, only Dacus could really help him, and Dacus was willing to help him. He just wanted to find his lover's soul and then place it in Lauren Loren according to the tradition of Enil, instead of taking his relatives and a few troops to start an expedition and die in a dangerous place.

He was not so selfish. He cared about his lover and his family. If he really did this, it would be in line with Dacus's words "add fuel to the fire". And Dacus was also worthy of his following and serving.

He shook his head in response to Daxus' question.

"Is not it?"

"Get out of here!" Daxus waved his hand at Kerillian with disgust.

Gilead, like Talos, did not say anything, but patted his chest. The place he patted was exactly where his brother's soul stone was. For him, it didn't matter where it was, what mattered was that he was always with his brother. Only when the souls of the two brothers merged together, he and his brother would get a moment of peace.

"You think too much. I'm not that magical. I know you are afraid... worried about something, but what I want to say is that you seem to think too much... the facts are not as serious as you think." Daxus shrugged at Issarion.

"But..." After saying one word with a frown, Eltharion was stunned.

"You seem to have regained your composure. Think about it. What could he do? Return to Ulthuan and accuse you? What? Politically, it would be an attack on a faction. He said he saw you in Naggaroth? I can imagine the look on those bastards' faces when they heard that.

He had a hard time in Ulthuan, how would he explain why he came to Naggaroth? You also know the situation in Naggaroth, is this a provocation? Would those idiots suspect that he had some kind of collusion with Naggaroth?
Even if what he said was true, what would happen? Confront your father? Would your father admit it? Send someone to Elsing Alvin to find you?

After Daxus finished speaking, he pulled up Isharion, who had come to his senses, and patted the snow on Isharion's shoulder armor.

"But... the mission will eventually return to Ulthuan."

"I've never been to Laurent Loren, but I know Athel Loren is very big." Kerillian, who was watching the fun, said softly.

Daxus didn't say anything, but turned and left. He came to Colonia and looked at her for a while, then returned to where he had sat before.

"What's next?" After arranging everything, Maranul sipped the ground, looked at the forest, and then sat next to Daquus.

Dacius knew what his brother was asking, but he said nothing, instead handing the arrow to Maranur. He then rubbed his face with his hands, resting his elbows on his thighs and holding his cheeks with his hands.

"The emblem of the Anar family. The Shadow King might be in the forest... looking at us coldly?" Maranul picked up the arrow and looked at it for a moment, then threw it aside.

"Let me think about it."

This time it was Maranur's turn to say nothing.

Dacus felt his mind was in a mess. He actually thought about the mind map of whether to help an old man who fell down or not. However, this was exactly the dilemma he was facing now. He did not enter the stage of not helping and nothing happened, but entered the stage of helping.

At this moment, he suddenly understood Tzeentch a little.

The raid, which had failed, was decided upon and planned by him, after speaking with Malekith through the mirror.

Originally, he and Malekith's idea was just to purge a group of disloyal dread lords, and then reform the military system, transforming the nobles' owning the army into generals commanding the army, which would be a big step forward.

The specific implementation process is: targeted blasting.

To be more specific, Malekith sent Hermara, who had a lover relationship with Tigasus before, to attract Tigasus. Then Tigasus took the bait even when there was no bait.

Malekith pardoned Tigasus's crime, but this did not mean that Tigasus could just pat his butt and forget about it. Things had already happened, and Tigasus had no choice but to move on.

Facts have proved that Dacus and Malekith, or rather Tigasus, succeeded. Tigasus, through midnight conspiracies and various means, instigated a group of fear lords who were already restless and had some ideas, ready to find an opportunity to attack, while Malekith watched coldly.

The plains north of Naggarond were full of military camps because Asheril's ten-year term had come to an end and the investment settlement had to be made. In addition to the settlement, Aegirether also spread rumors that after the settlement, an attack would be launched directly on Ulthuan.

And then there is nothing else, just gather people together for a meeting, I am here to hold a meeting...

Malekith is responsible for purging the disloyal factions, and Dacuus will not be involved.

As long as Dacus stood there, he was giving Malekith his greatest support. He didn't need to take action at all. What he had to do was to clean up the mess and stabilize the families that had not been purged. He always kept his word, and his generosity and kindness could not be broken. He would still give the return on investment, exactly as it should be, without a cent difference.

In addition to the first round of investment, he planned to make a second round and other investments to share the cake with these relatively loyal families, such as handing over chicken farming and fishing to the nobles of Caronde Carr. After all, the most important military power was taken away, and he and Malekith must show that they can't just swing the stick and kill people.

This is bullshit politics.

If Malekith, who is good at this, can't even do this well, Asheril will find out about the soybeans, and Daquus will find a millstone to grind them and make a piece of strong and solid tofu directly for Malekith.

If he was right, by the time Daxus was thinking about it, the bodies of these disloyal people were no longer even warm.

The original plan was good, but...

no……

During the execution, Morathi played a trick of self-torture and brought disaster upon herself. Malekith, knowing Morathi's plan, turned the tables on her.

The gossip that Aegilethe spread was not only for the unsuspecting disloyal factions, but also for Morathi.

Morathi as a mother...

I can’t tell, and it’s hard to say…

Morathi found a bunch of cannon fodder from the Chaos Wasteland for Haodaer.

Just like when Druki launched an attack on Ulthuan in 2300 of the Imperial Era, she used various methods to find cannon fodder from the Chaos Wasteland and sent them to Ulthuan via the Black Ark to serve as cannon fodder and share the pressure of Druki's troops.

Of course, the 2300 were from the year of the Imperial Calendar, not this time. Then, when she was sleeping with a Chaos Lord whose chest was covered by heart fur, she was awakened by Caledor of the Maelstrom. After being threatened by Caledor, she fled back to Naggaroth from Ulthuan overnight.

The original plan was good, but...

Morathi had planned everything, but she never expected that her eldest son would set her up. Her behavior violated the few laws of Naggaroth.

As for the law... those who understand it will understand it. It can be said to be useful or useless.

As the Witch King, Malekith held high the banner of law at the critical moment, but he would not take action against his mother. One reason was that this was not good and unacceptable, and the other was that he also... But there were others. There was no reason why Hellebron, who wanted to tear Morathi apart, would not come to convene the Dark Council.

At the end of time, Chaos invaded Naggaroth in large numbers, and Har Ganthe was about to be besieged. Even in such a situation, Hellebron came to Naggarond to attend the Dark Council.

After seeing Morathi being accused, Hellebron would definitely do something, such as attacking Morathi and forcing her out of the council chamber.

From the beginning to here, it's the classic "everyone plays their own game".

The Disloyal, the Loyalists, Morathi, Hellebron and Darkius, these major political factions in Naggaroth all have their own demands, and various operations are being performed in this storm that is destined to sweep across Naggaroth.

At this point, Daxus also entered the helping part in the mind map. There are many ways to do things, some are making false claims and some are not, some have video recordings and some don't, some are playing tricks and some don't, some call the police and some settle privately, some have problems with the elderly and some don't, and so on.

It is possible that Morathi died in a surprise attack, or was killed directly by Hellebron, but Daxus thought it was unlikely.

He had thought about letting Malok stay on the dragon's spine of other dragons, and transform into a dragon at the critical moment, one like a mountain pressing down on the top of one's head, and the other like a flying dragon.

But Morathi's spellcasting ability is very strong. It is said that during the Great Sundering, she killed five dragons with a wave of her hand. As for what kind of dragons, their strength and rank, that is another matter.

This was also the reason why he didn't let Malok play. He calculated that if Malok engaged in melee combat, there was a high probability that he would be killed by Morathi. Moreover, Malok's size was there, and it was just there, so other people couldn't play. It all depended on Malok's performance, a typical one-shot deal.

After much research, they came up with three tricks, three waves, and launched a surprise attack after Morathi left the airspace above the military camp. If it worked, it would work, and if it didn't, she would have escaped successfully.

Facts proved that Dacun was right. The first wave of arrows was okay, but the second wave of dragon's breath could directly plow a big hole in the military camp when it fell to the ground, just like when Arthas attacked Silvermoon City. Caledor's proverb was not a joke.

A novice can learn fire magic and create a fireball, or make his hands hot and shake hands with others like a branding iron, which makes him more capable of fighting.

But shadow magic is different. Shadow magic is very special among the eight wind magics. At the beginning, it can only create a useless shadow and fog, just like a magic trick, a useless one. However, although the lower limit of shadow magic is very low, it has a very high upper limit. It can attack when advancing and run when retreating, and it can come and go freely.

The actual manifestation is the various magical powers displayed by Morathi during the raid.

They jumped up and ran very fast. After three sections, they had already walked two miles.

This happened when Morathi didn't bring the halberd-like staff. If the halberd was brought into the council hall, she would probably be able to launch a counterattack directly.

Before she fell to the ground, she jumped out directly. After jumping out, she turned the shadow into an almost real horse and rode the horse towards Gorond.

The raid failed here. During the research, Drusala told Daquus that Morathi had a way to teleport back to the Tower of Prophecy, as long as he was close enough to Gorond. The result was indeed so. After chasing for a while, Morathi was gone, the shadow horse was gone, not even a hair, she was home.

Morathi became half of the Crash King, successfully.

Capture Morathi alive and present her to Sotek, once and for all, but failed.

He was blackmailed by Moras... No, he was killed by her and did not show up.

Both sides were defeated and no one showed up.

Morathi successfully escaped, but her health was reduced before she could escape. Her magic items were almost consumed, so she appeared.

Now, the second round of mind mapping begins.

"Understand, and be... be a fart!"

"What?" Maranul asked after hearing Daquus mutter.

"Nothing, let's go back first." Daxus shook his head, then picked up the arrow and stood up.

Before returning, he danced on the snow like a shaman, chanting continuously.

"Lilith~Lilith? Lilith! Li...Li...Li!" (End of this chapter)