Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

Eltharion wiped the blood and sweat from his face, and looked around with a cold look. Although Aris had long disappeared, he had no time to think about the whereabouts of the Shadow King. He held the fang sword tightly in his hand, and his eyes fell on the relics of the two sea guards who had already died. He put the relics away properly.

The anger and pain in his heart intertwined and burned into a rage of revenge. He knew that only by going deep into the battlefield and struggling on the edge of life and death could he hone his true strength like Daquus. At this moment, he longed for killing and even more for release. His goal was clear: to find a relatively safe partner and to avenge his fallen companion.

The battlefield was in chaos, with wailing and roaring intertwined, but it did not prevent him from stepping firmly into the chaos wave.

Soon, Eltharion found himself in the path of a Yankee warband, who surrounded him with grinning faces and axes raised, ready to hurl at him.

He held the fang sword tightly, facing eight people at once, and he was ready for a fierce battle. However, just when the axe was about to be thrown, the Yankee's movements froze strangely, and he saw a flash of surprise and confusion in one of the Yankees' eyes, and then the other eye was pierced by an arrow, and then he fell heavily to the ground.

Then, a series of arrows followed, hitting the remaining Yankees accurately. The last enemy who tried to escape was hit in the knee by an arrow and fell to the ground with a scream.

He stumbled toward the enemy, hearing the Yankee's sobbing voice, the language was strange, but the tone was obvious. His eyes did not waver, he raised the fang sword, easily cut off the Yankee's arm, and then slit the enemy's throat mercilessly.

"Not bad, little one."

A brisk, slightly playful voice came from behind, and Eltharion frowned instantly, knowing who the voice belonged to. He instinctively turned around and saw that face, who always had a smile on it, was squatting on the ground, retrieving the arrows he had shot from the Yankee's body.

"You are quite leisurely."

He sighed, feeling mixed emotions. He didn't like Kerillian, but he couldn't deny that this Asrai was an extremely skilled archer. He shook off the blood on the blade with one hand and said coldly.

"Leisurely? That's it." Kerillian stood up and patted the snow on her hands nonchalantly.

"You are alone?"

"No, darkness is my companion, it follows me everywhere!" Kerillian's masked face smiled as she announced, her hands spread out as if embracing the darkness.

Eltharion rolled his eyes and shook his head speechlessly. This was why he didn't like Kerillian. But this didn't stop him from teaming up with Kerillian. Just as he was about to invite her, he heard a voice coming from not far away.

In the distance, there were orderly footsteps, accompanied by the crisp sound of swords clashing and tragic wails. Those sounds were like a heavy war song, full of threats and oppression.

"It sounds like Druch's main force. What are you going to do?" Kerillian said softly.

"Go and take a look!" Isharion clenched the sword in his hand and spoke in a firm tone.

"Okay, little guy, but don't expect me to clean up your mess this time." Kerillian sneered and drew her sword.

This time, Eltharion ignored them and walked straight to the place where the sound came from. Soon, he recognized the figure in the front of the team wearing a red cloak and black guard armor. Unlike other cloaks, the fluttering red cloak had no patterns or decorations, simple and plain, while the armor was a little weird, similar to the standard armor of the black guard, but a little different.

Good heritage told him that this should be the captain of the Black Guard, Kolan Blackhand. He saw that Kolan was holding a terrifying halberd in his hand, and obscure runes were engraved on its jagged halberd.

"Since we occupied this land, we have stood firm! Therefore, we must hold on. In the name of the Witch King, we must hold on!"

Kou Lan's speech was clear and calm, and his words were carefully chosen, which was very contagious.

"This is a group of enemies who dared to challenge the wrath of Druki, a group of enemies who think they don't know what fear is. However, please remember this, everyone remember my words, they will be stopped here, they will die here. The moment they set foot on the land of Naggaroth, each of them will die! If our victory requires life, I expect you to give it without hesitation!"

"It's wonderful, but my evaluation is... not as good as Dacreus." Kerillian whispered in Eltharion's ear.

Isharion was stunned for a moment, then nodded with a look of approval.

Maybe it was because Daxus’ speech two days ago was too shocking and the lingering sound was lingering in his ears, or maybe it was because the discipline of the Druchi army was extremely strict. Koulan’s speech did not achieve the effect he needed, but it did not stop him from continuing. He did not try to compete with Daxus. It was just his habit to say a few words before the battle.

"The beasts of the north have no thoughts. They have no great plans or strategies. They rush towards us with blind savagery, using their flesh to ram our traps. There is no honor in this battle. I ask you to slaughter them like vermin."

Koran stopped and looked at the queue again. Soon, he noticed something. He turned his head and glanced at Kerillian and Eltharion standing in the distance. He knew that these two were friends of the Witch King's Hand and guests of the Witch King. He said nothing and did nothing, but continued to make the final mobilization.

"No more, no less. If you are still alive when we have cleansed this filth from our land, it will be your greatest honor."

The moment he finished speaking, his speech ignited everyone's fighting spirit.

"Fight for the Witch King!"

It started with low whispers, then turned into a chorus of shouts, and finally gathered into a deafening outburst of fighting spirit.

"Push forward!"

"Little guy, don't block the way. They are moving and they don't care who you are." Seeing the black guards moving, Kerillian pulled Eltharion's arm and disappeared into the darkness.

The battle began, and the Black Guard advanced.

Eltharion, who was at the edge, had once again achieved victory. In front of him, a Yankee in animal skins fell down. Judging from her hair style, she should be a woman? But this did not stop him from finishing off the Yankee. He swung his fang sword down, and blood gushed out of the Yankee's mouth like a fountain. He took a step back to avoid the blood staining his armor. He stood there quietly, admiring his success in killing.

But soon, this peace was broken again.

"Look up at the sky, there's something over there!" Kerillian, who had also completed the kill, leaned back to back on Eltharion's back and whispered.

An elegant figure appeared in midair. She was wearing crimson armor, with distinct hooves and feet, and two curved horns hovering above her head. The bat wings behind her were covered with scars, and she held a jagged spear in her hand, with an evil grin on her shield. Her burning eyes swept across the ground, challenging anyone who dared to look directly at her.

Looking at this figure, Eltharion showed an incredible expression, the beautiful and cruel face raised, and uttered a sharp war cry in a language that he could not understand at all, and the demon wings spread backwards, letting the figure fly in the air. He had an illusion that this scene would be forever imprinted in his mind until the end of his life.

『Bloody』 Valkia is here.

"These creatures are not worthy of you, my love."

The evil face on the shield, Rofix spoke, his tone full of sarcasm.

Valkia had slain many servants of the hostile gods, and one of these champions was Rofix, a Slaanesh Daemon Prince of unimaginable evil. He was moved by the Blood Queen's cold beauty and brazenly teased that Valkia was more suitable to be a slave girl than a queen.

Valkia was naturally furious, and she raised her magic spear Slaupe and fought with Rofix for several days. In the end, she won, and before chopping off Rofix's head, she proudly declared to the demon that Rofix would be the only slave she would ever see.

Now, the relationship has become strange and relatively "harmonious", Valkia lives for her supreme master, offering blood and skulls as tribute, and Rofix is ​​one of her longest companions. No one understands Valkia better than Rofix.

"Why waste time on these kids instead of fighting the real battle?"

"In your eyes, nothing in the world is worthy of me, Rofix, at least that's what I think," Valkia responded nonchalantly, her tone revealing a sense of distraction.

"Hmm..." Rofix smacked his lips.

"Remember, Rofix, my lord does not care where the blood comes from, He only cares if it flows. I promise you, this place will burn for Him, this place will be reduced to ashes, a bloody monument. And then, we will burn another one, and the next one." She flew at a steady speed, and after looking at the ground for a moment, she turned her attention back to the demon on the shield. She shrugged lightly, showing an indifferent expression.

"Too...boring!" Even with only a disembodied head, Rofix could still express his self-righteous attitude in an almost elegant way.

Valkia sneered and ignored Rofix's words. When the Yankees on the ground heard the flapping of her wings, they all raised their heads and screamed their eternal loyalty to her and her bloody cause.

The beating of wings grew more intense as she looked down upon the battlefield, hearing and seeing the exhilarating carnage.

The ground was filled with deafening shouts of killing, and the chaotic and disorderly battle affected every inch of space. Countless elves, humans, beasts and behemoths fought madly, and blood flowed like a river. The array of black-armored Duruchi warriors was the most intense place for fighting. They wielded their halberds smoothly, slaughtering the Yankees and beastmen with precise movements. The smoothness of their movements formed a sharp contrast with the heaviness of the halberds themselves.

Valkia soared in the sky, overlooking all this, feeling a brief sense of satisfaction. So much killing was a pleasure, and her pride was rising. It was time to take the stage herself.

Her eyes locked onto one of the Duruchi warriors, who held an exquisite halberd in his hand, and looked like a veteran who had been through many battles. His tattered scarlet cape fluttered behind him, and the halberd tip flashed with the cold light of death. The warrior was like a whirlwind of killing, reaping lives without stopping, while wandering among his own warriors, but never accidentally hurting anyone.

She recognized the warrior, even admired him. More importantly, she had found her prey.

She swooped down from the sky like a comet, her sharp death screams tearing the air apart. She landed heavily on the ground, and the powerful shock wave caused the snow to surge, and Druch and the Yankees avoided it and retreated to a safe area.

She stood up straight, cold and noble, her eyes full of contempt sweeping everything in her way. Her magic spear pierced a black guard, and when she calmly shook her wrist and threw away the trembling corpse, she turned her eyes to her prey, the Duruchi champion.

She allowed herself a moment to admire the grace and skill of the Duruchi champion, and soon the champion's dazzling dance stopped and he looked at her. Then he slowly raised his halberd in front of him and took a fighting stance.

The twisted face on Valkia's armor twitched and twisted as she moved, each step full of predatory majesty. The gaps in her armor stretched like exposed tendons, and as she folded her wings behind her, she tilted her head slightly, revealing her fangs and mimicking a seductive smile. Her eyes swept over the elf's muscle lines and the bloody spiked armor, and the hunger for killing surged in her body.

This was her most exciting feeling, always appearing before she was about to hunt a skull worthy of the Blood God's throne. And such a skull was undoubtedly her gift to the Blood God.

"Come on, let's dance together!"

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The two warriors locked eyes and closed the distance, the echo of steel clashing exploding between them.
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"Adjust to the right!"

Standing on the dragon's head, Daquus narrowed his eyes slightly, looked down at the earth from a high altitude, and carefully observed the situation below. After a brief contemplation, he decisively gave the order.

"As ordered!"

Ashdaron roared in a low voice, and then his huge body tilted slightly, and his wings spread out, covering the land below like a shadow covering the sky.

It’s just that it’s pitch dark now and we’re away from the battlefield, so we can’t see anything below.

"It's off to the left."

Soon, Dacus frowned slightly, noticing that the adjustment was slightly off. He first adjusted his position, then lay down, and his outstretched hand appeared in Ashdaron's field of vision, guiding and adjusting.

Ashdaron adjusted the direction steadily. His movements were light but carried the unique majesty of a dragon. The air vibrated due to the movement of his wings.

"Okay! Start diving!"

Daxus climbed up and looked at the perfectly aligned attack path with sharp eyes. A sneer appeared on the corner of his mouth. He gave the final order, then he took a deep breath and blew the horn in his hand.

Ashdaron flapped his wings suddenly, and the whistling sound of the air being torn apart was deafening. The huge dragon body dived straight to the ground at an astonishing speed, like a burning meteor, sweeping down with the momentum of destruction.

This time, Daxus's old friend Springwin did not participate in the battle, and the red dragons that took part in the raid two days ago did not participate. It was not because they were injured or anything else, but because they adhered to the principle of making money together.

The red dragons are paid gold for their work, so it is impossible for them to let some beings do all the work. This is not only a reflection of weighing the interests, but also a kind of potential tacit understanding and order. They eat meat together and drink soup together.

This fully demonstrates the importance of good leadership and rule enforcement.

Those who took part in the attack were Skulex the Great, Ashdaron, Calledale, Caminus, Drake, and the brothers Agatagu and Acregon.

Six red dragons of different sizes were arranged in a double vertical formation, three in front and three in the back. Their mission was to block the continuous attack of the Chaos Wave and relieve the pressure on the mobile force that was coming out to make dumplings.

Ashdaron swooped down like a mountain from the sky, carrying an irresistible momentum. His huge and ferocious figure enveloped the entire battlefield, as if the night itself was swallowed by his pressure. His scales shone with a dark red metallic luster under the moonlight, and every time he flapped his wings, a strong wind would be raised, making the smoke and bloody smell on the ground even stronger.

The flames of destruction are coming!

When he took a deep breath, his chest swelled up, as if a dormant volcano had been awakened. Then, a deafening roar broke through the din of the battlefield, and he opened his abyss-like mouth and spewed out a fiery dragon's breath. The flames poured down with a devastating force, like a boiling red torrent, suddenly hitting the center of the chaos wave.

The blazing flames instantly engulfed the warband on the ground. Their furs and cloaks ignited the moment the dragon's breath touched them, and the flames devoured their weapons, shields, and their pitiful bodies. The metal armor quickly melted under the high temperature, making a harsh crackling sound, and the air was filled with the smell of scorched and burnt flesh.

Some Yankees who tried to escape fled in panic, but the flames were all-pervasive, turning their hopes into nothing. The huge hounds howled in pain, their flesh bursting in the flames, and the huge ogres roared and fell in the flames, turning into silent scorched earth.

However, Ashdaron's attack was only a prelude.

Soon, the symphony of destruction woven by the red dragons began under the command of Dakus.

Calledel's powerful wings flapped, creating a violent gust of wind that blew the enemy's cloaks and flags on the ground into disarray. Her huge mouth took on a strange, eerie green color, dancing like a ghost in the dark night. Then, she folded her wings suddenly and dived straight down, spewing out the enchanting green flames as she approached the ground.

The blue flames poured down like a waterfall, cutting off the chaotic wave in half. The air seemed to be twisted wherever the flames reached. The enemies raised their huge shields desperately to resist, but found that the flames penetrated the steel and invaded their bodies. The black and red armor that they were proud of melted quickly under the erosion of the blue flames, and the flesh and metal combined to form a twisted charred shape. The screams of the northerners came one after another, trying to escape, but they could not break free from the flames that devoured everything.

Calledel began to fly in a straight line and started the jet mode. Her head kept turning, sometimes jetting to the left, sometimes jetting to the right, filling the gaps that her lover and Agatagon and Acregon had not attacked.

On the ground, the beastmen struggled and fell, their huge bodies gradually disappeared in the flames, and finally turned into ashes. Some of the more elite Yankees tried to fight back or they were out of their minds. Lacking any means of attack, they actually stopped where they were and formed a tight shield formation. The red dragon's blue flames were like spiritual spears, piercing the formation accurately and turning them into a blazing sea of ​​fire.

The trolls with weak fire debuffs were completely destroyed. Their huge bodies tried to fight back clumsily, but the blue flames penetrated their rough skin and evaporated their blood instantly. They roared and wailed, waving their huge weapons, trying to repel the killing gods in the sky, but in the end they could only be twisted into charred corpses under the baptism of flames, scattered on the snow.

As the red dragons swooped down one after another, blazing flames gushed out like angry dragons emerging from the sea. Several dragon breaths attacked the Chaos army in succession, and pillars of fire drew dazzling arcs in the night sky, cutting the darkness into bright daylight. In the light of the fire, the figures of the Chaos warriors were looming, but more of them were their twisted bodies in the flames and endless screams. These sounds pierced the long night, like desperate wails, and also like the death knell of fate.

"Brother, you smell so good, ugh..."

Dacus' nose twitched as he sniffed the aroma of meat in the air. A complex expression emerged on his face, which seemed to be an instinctive reaction to the roasted meat, but also like he felt helpless about the absurdity of the scene before him. After a moment, he couldn't help vomiting, and then he was infected by an inexplicable emotion and burst into a chuckle. The laughter had a sense of frenzy, which seemed particularly abrupt on the battlefield where wailing was heard one after another.

He did not attack, in his opinion, this was a waste of effort. The dragon breath of the red dragons was like a 150mm howitzer washing the ground, while his attack method was more like shooting with a handheld grenade launcher. His task at this moment was not to join in this bloody massacre, but to stand at the strategic high point, calmly command and adjust, decide the timing and method of attack, and ensure that he escaped smoothly before the spellcasting system in Gorond City could react.

He took a deep breath and raised the horn to his lips. Three rapid notes burst out from the horn, resounding through the sky, penetrating the flames and smoke, conveying clear instructions.

Hearing the horn, Ashdaron responded to the order with a deafening roar. His voice was like thunder, echoing across the battlefield, full of power and murderous aura. Following closely behind, the other red dragons roared in response, the voices interlaced, converging into a sad and beautiful movement belonging to the sky and fire.

Then, the red dragons spread their wings and quickly dispersed from their neat formation. Like predatory birds of prey, they turned the battlefield into their own hunting ground. In their separate battle areas, their attacks were even more swift and precise, with flames falling from the sky, destroying everything, and the snow turning into boiling mud under the high temperature.

Dacus stood there, watching all this calmly. In his eyes, the battlefield was not a chaotic massacre, but a carefully designed chess game, and he was the chess player controlling the chess pieces.

After completing the adjustments, Caminus launched another devastating offensive. He selected the mammoths as his targets. The appearance of these behemoths should have brought an overwhelming advantage to the Chaos Tide, but in front of him, these behemoths seemed unusually fragile.

He rolled in the air like a red lightning, then swooped down. His huge figure passed over the head of the mammoth, and then he took a deep breath and spewed out a blazing flame, which covered the whole body of the mammoth like a huge wave.

The hair of these giants instantly ignited, and the flames illuminated the entire battlefield. The scorching heat quickly disintegrated their thick skin, and their tough muscles and bones also turned to ashes in the flames. They let out desperate roars, and their huge bodies began to shake and lose control, and finally collapsed.

The drummers and other things on them were set on fire, screaming and falling from the sky, some were smashed into pulp, and some were smashed into the chaos wave. The fallen mammoths smashed into the chaos array, and the huge shock wave made the Yankees flee in all directions.

The offensive of the red dragons plunged the Chaos Wave into unprecedented chaos. The brilliance of the flames completely tore through the night sky. The blazing light made those who had no idea what was happening think it was daybreak.

On the ground, one enemy formation after another was engulfed by flames. The screams of the Yankees and the roars of the beasts mixed together, forming a symphony of destruction on the battlefield. (End of this chapter)