Just being a dark elf in Warhammer

Chapter 184 34. That’s all

The wind blew over the lying Darkus, and he woke up to the hollow groan of the wind. Slowly, painfully, he opened his eyes. He lay on his back under the leaden sky, arms outstretched. He struggled and waved his arms, preventing Drusala from feeding him the potion.

Something big was moving behind Darkus, but he didn't adjust his angle to see it. Shabulaji turned around and stared at its current owner with one blood-red eye. The flanks of this stupid naughty pear were covered in bone meal dust and exploding pus.

The wind ruffled Drusala's loose hair, her face was covered with dust and blood, and there were obvious marks on her cheeks and chin. Her lively eyes were melancholy and deep-set, surrounded by dark circles of tiredness from overcasting.

"This potion was not made by me, but by Colonia, your sister." Drusala hesitated for a moment, holding the potion in her hand, and she said with a cold face.

"Then you can't drink this!" Darkus reacted even more after hearing this. He had a sense of resistance to the things produced by the sorceresses, whether it was physical or psychological, just like the first time he woke up. At that time, Alyssa was making a thick black soothing soup, but he poured it out of the porthole.

Genevieve walked over at this time, squatted on the ground and handed the sea dragon skin kettle in her hand to Drusala, and took the potion from Drusala's hand. Then he took out the Blade of the Ancestors from his arms, inserted it into the holster on Darkus' thigh, nodded to Darkus, stood up and left.

Darkus drank it greedily. After taking a few sips of hot water, he felt radiant again. He didn't ask anything or sigh, let alone whether his legs were still there because he moved his toes. The nerves and sensations in his toes reported that his legs were still there, and he looked at Drusala's beautiful face quietly. He still hasn't figured out what's hidden behind Drusala's face after half a year. He wanted to raise his arm to touch Drusala's face, but he pulled back again, not because of any precaution or anything. A messy mentality, but because he was still wearing gloves, and there was sticky blood and strange liquid on the gloves.

Drusala did not resist, but pressed her face against the glove. One hand held Darkus's arm tightly, and the other hand exuded black magic and touched the cold blood on Darkus' cheek. .

Darkus still looked at Drusala quietly and said nothing. He would not be stupid enough to ask about Morathi, Frost Blade, the Silent One and Medusa when he was at his weakest.

"I've thought about it." Darkus suddenly said without any clue.

"What?" Drusala couldn't help but ask after waiting for a while before reaching the second half of Darkus's words.

"We will get married when we come to Ulthuan! In the Temple of Asuryan, under the witness of the gods, under the witness of our relatives and friends, His Majesty the Phoenix King Malekith will officiate the wedding for us! We will Hold a wedding of the century, and we will definitely come to Ulthuan! No matter how difficult it is! I promise!"

"Yeah!" Drusala looked at Darkus and was stunned for a long time. She was imagining the scene that Darkus had described. She smiled and nodded firmly.

"So! If you have any secrets, you must tell me!" Darkus first drew a pie, and then circled it again.

Maranur limped into Darkus' sight. His left shoulder pauldron was missing. The black steel armor was covered with marks. His hair was scattered and blown by the wind, and his face was stained with blood. , a little embarrassed, there is no doubt that these blood stains are his own, because the dead have no blood to shed.

"How do you feel? My brother."

"It's like I died once and then came back to life again." Darkus looked at Maranur and said, pointing to his neck and signaling Drusala to find something to help him. Pad it.

Maranur looked at Drusala's leaving back with fear, and then shook his head slightly.

"To tell you something interesting, Cowell saw one of his ancestors when he was cleaning the battlefield. That ancestor had the emblem of the Mogar family on his body, and it happened to correspond to the contents of their family records."

"I still don't understand why this army appears here in the dangerous peaks?" Darkus was speechless and confused, but also felt a little ironic and comic?

"And after thousands of years, this battlefield has been here. The group of mountain people who have degenerated into shadows have not been found yet? We just met them?" Maranur turned his head and drank out of the black water, then turned his head and said , he was thinking about something again, and then said, "Destiny? Maybe you are good at this ethereal thing, or maybe the mountain people who knew the secret lost their inheritance in the years after they came here? Who knows. Anyway, we are the winners. "

"Where are the casualties?" Darkus didn't dwell on this issue. If he really couldn't do it, he would just find out after having a friendly exchange with the mountain people.

"Four of the retinues have returned to the arms of Es Hayai, and the rest are more or less damaged. A few of them may have to travel on chariots for the rest of their journey," Maranur said. While standing, he tilted his head to indicate the direction, and then said, "Five of the cold lizards died, and the rest were injured, but they are not serious. You know the cold lizards. The good news is that the loot is very rich, very Rich. The bad news is that we can only selectively pack some."

While the Darkus brothers were talking, Drusala came back and found a sleeping blanket in the baggage cart of the Nagaryth army. With the help of Maranur, Darkus sat up. He first took a look at his legs and breathed a sigh of relief after finding that they were fine. He looked in the distance at a line of weathered and pathless mountains. He looked at the entrance to a valley that wound between two rugged peaks. He stared at the rolling plains on the other side, covered with ripples. A sea of ​​snow-covered grass. On the northern horizon rose a snow-covered forest, highlighted by a black triangular mountain, its top shrouded in white snow and clouds. A sharp fissure, like the mark of a great axe, split the mountain at a shallow angle, extending two-thirds of its length from the summit to the broad base.

"Maybe that's where it is?" Darkus frowned and thought.

Maranur didn't say anything, patted Darkus on the shoulder and left. Since his brother couldn't take charge of the work, he could only do it for the time being.

"Do you know what?" Darkus asked, looking at Drusala.

"This seems to be Bascon's lost legion, which was ordered to set off in the last year of Phoenix King Aenarion's reign. The records of that period are very confusing. Maybe we should ask the people of that era?" Drusala frowned. After thinking for a while, he said hesitantly.

"Malekis must have been 37 years old at that time? He should know what happened. Just ask later." Darkus thought for a moment and nodded.

"Hel me up."

After a while, Darkus tried to stand up. When he put his weight on his scratched calf, he couldn't help but make a gasping sound in pain. His black steel armor was now almost white, stained with ashes and darkened in places by blood. There were cuts on his face, neck and forehead, and his cheeks were stiff with dried blood. His wound throbbed painfully, the pain aggravated by the bent piece of metal the dead man's spear tip dug into his skin. The wound on his calf was aching, but he was still grateful to be able to feel the pain. He didn't want to lose a leg now, although it could be cured.

Darkos looked around the battlefield, and some Druchi who could still move were rummaging around. The loot from this battle was really too rich. He saw Ren limping onto a truck and pushing the broken wooden box to the ground. As the wooden box shattered, countless spearheads fell to the ground. Ren shook his head, then pushed down another box, and another box of long swords. Garroth held the dagger and pulled the gems on the weapon very skillfully. The bag on his waist was already bulging. The body of Prince Nagaris was left to dry, and no one disturbed it, because the Druchi all knew that it was his trophy. There was also a Druchi holding a bundle of long swords and trying to load them on the platform of the Disaster Walker chariot, but the trainer kept waving his hands to refuse, saying that there were too many and they could no longer be loaded.

"It would be great if there was a space ring." Darkus thought, but he knew that this world didn't seem to have such a thing, and there was no way to mark this damn place. This time it happened that something happened. Yes, we hit it! No one can guarantee that they will find it next time, because there are also evil spirits in the dangerous peaks.

Darkus did not look at his trophies immediately. Prince Nagaris was already lying down, could he get up again? He limped over to the injured patients lying on the ground and walked around. Genevieve and three other sorceresses were busy dressing and bandaging the wounds of these patients, feeding them hot water and medicine. .

"grown ups!"

"Master!"

Darkus nodded to the sick patients one by one, and checked their injuries. Franais tried to get up, but was pushed down by Alyssa. Dorian is in a coma and keeps mumbling something in his sleep. He seems to be poisoned. Tetanus warning! The guard who often followed Dorian and retched while talking about Shadow was never among them. He looked around the battlefield and found traces of that guard. Obviously, that guard was one of the four killed. .

The morale of the Sick and Sick was very high, and they did not flinch. Druchi was born a warrior, and there was nothing to say about dying under the sword. They know that the road ahead is open, and they also know that the loot this time is very rich, and they can get more or less something. Moreover, they are all items from that period, which are symbols of identity and status in Druch society.

Darkus limped to Prince Nagareth's side again and looked at Prince Nagareth's weapons and armor. After looking at it for a while, he raised his head towards the sword, Drusa. La squatted down and handed him the long sword. After he waved it twice, he held it in front of his eyes and looked at it carefully.

"The weapon that can make the Lord Quiteli's Halberd not get cheaper is really extraordinary. It should be the same batch of goods, but that's it." Darkus thought, he couldn't remember the table rules, but in In a game that continues to be updated, the war spear of God Taranxra used by Ku Jia is of exquisite quality, the sword of God Zongqi is of rare quality, and the quality of God Quiteli's halberd should be between Between the two, there are armor-breaking, magic and fire attack effects. The weapon that can make the Lord Quiteli's Halberd not come cheap is probably a weapon made by the elves during the Great Invasion.

Something flashed in Darkus' mind, and his spirit seemed to be connected to the sword. At that moment, the magical flames burned more and more intensely on the sword blade. The flames danced along the blade, and the color of the flames also turned bright red. All the flames flew towards the tip of the sword and converged, forming a fireball.

In the blink of an eye, a fireball erupted from the tip of the sword, and then the fireball disappeared into the air, and the magic flame on the blade dimmed. The current flame has not reached the normal intensity of the past, but the flame is still burning. Although it is not as bright as it was in its heyday, it is still enough to generate some heat. He also feels that the sword in his hand is not as light as when he first picked it up.

"Sun Flame Sword?" Drusala looked at the long sword and asked curiously.

The Sunflame Sword was a legendary weapon forged by the legendary mage Caledor in the erupting volcano of Vaal Anvil during the Great Invasion, and was part of a complete set of equipment made for the first Phoenix King. The Sun Flame Sword is very ancient, forged in ancient times when the gods still walked the world. When the Sun Flame Sword was forged, the wind of magic was more abundant than it is now, and the world has fundamentally changed. It is difficult to copy, unless the maelstrom and spiritual vein nodes are dried to pieces.

Aenarion took hold of the Sunfire Sword and fought and killed, defeating the Daemons of Chaos time and time again. He entrusted his life to Yang Yanjian. The Sunsword was a weapon wielded by the hero, a weapon blessed by the power of the gods, but cast aside when he took up the ultimate power and curse of the Sword of Khaine. He gave the Sunsword to Frien, one of his most trusted lieutenants, who later passed it on to his descendants.

Malekith naturally coveted the Sunsword, as he always desired all of his father's inheritance. But Frien's family rejected him, and over time, Malekith's spies made several attempts to seize the Sunsword, but all failed.

Nathanes, the last descendant of House Freen, embarked on a trading journey to the Old World. He reached it safely, but never followed his ship back. Afterwards, stories began to spread about an elven adventurer who fought in the lands of the Old World with a magic sword that could spit fire. He visited the legendary Athel Loren and met with Asrai war dancers and rangers. They fought side by side, passed through the Border Princely Territory and Tyrell, and finally reached Estalia and died there, but the Sun Flame Sword was picked up by a human, at least that's what the legend said.

The Sun Flame Sword has been passed down from father to son in the short and fleeting generations of mankind. The power of the Sun Flame Sword makes its owners heroes and powerful fighters among humans, but the Sun Flame Sword also brings misfortune to them. , just like some stories are full of mockery of fate. The artifact is held in the hands of people without ability or qualifications, which is a kind of curse and shackles.

The Sunflame Sword is now packed in dust in a secret room in the temple city of Zultek in the Lustria continent. The specific location is the City of Ashes and the satellite city next to Pahuakos. Darkus deliberately avoided it when he traveled there. .

"No! But they should be made in the same batch." Darkus directly denied it, because he knew where the Yang Yan Sword was. He did not try to summon the power of this sword again. It is said that this sword contains some kind of elemental soul. Frequent summons will cause the elemental soul to die, rendering the sword useless.

When taking off the broken scabbard from Prince Drusala Nagaris's waist, Darkus was also thinking, should he be able to use this weapon temporarily? Because he has many alternatives when it comes to weapons, and he not only uses swords, but also halberds and shields, but he prefers the mercer sword. If he intervenes in Hal Goncy's religious rebellion soon, he should be able to obtain Malus's Kane Dimensional Sword, but he doesn't want to get involved with Kane, a brat. Malekith's Destroyer? The Destroyer has the effect of destroying demons and can be called the nemesis of the magic system. The Destroyer was forged by Malekith himself. What if he gave the Sun Flame Sword to Malekith? Originally, he wanted to have some fun, such as inviting the Tyrion brothers to the Lustria continent for a friendly meeting, in-depth exchanges, and then giving the Sun Sword to Tyrion.

But since Darkus has decided to conquer Ulthuan, giving the Sunfire Sword to Tyrion is not a good choice, just like giving the Soul Blade to Morathi, it will be full of trouble! When will he log into Ulthuan Tyrion and slash him and his soldiers with the Sunfire Sword? Cause changes? What the hell does he have in mind for clubbing? Blessed by Tzeentch, right? It's better to give Malekith the Sun Flame Sword and replace it with the Destroyer.

"This? This seems to be dragon armor?"

Just as Darkus was thinking, Drusala interrupted him with an exclamation. He lowered his head and looked at the armor of Prince Nagaryth.

There seems to be an illusion that Darkus can perceive inside the dragon armor, and that illusion keeps calling something in his heart.

The army of Chaos Demons is marching towards the mountains in southern Ulthuan. Amidst the howling winds blowing down the hillsides, the entire sky is submerged in dark purple and green clouds. The stench of rotting corpses and sulfur is flowing down. Drifting across the canyon.

The first Phoenix King Aenarion stood on a dark hillside, his armor, shield and spear shining. Behind him were the elven generals, all wearing silver scales decorated with gems. The dragon mounts of the generals were also circling and flying in the sky, and the elven army stared coldly at the colorful chaos demon army in the distance with claws and teeth.

Aenarion covered his eyes with his hands. His black hair hung down from the edge of the golden dragon helmet and spread over the scarlet cloak. At this time, Elloran Anarr (the ancestor of the Shadow King) was holding The Phoenix Battle Flag stood behind him, and behind him stood his adjutant Frien, Bascon, and so on. The Phoenix King turned to the left, where stood Dragon Tamer Caledor, the master of magic who personally forged all the weapons and armor of the Phoenix King in the temple of the forging god Vaal.