Just being a dark elf in Warhammer

Chapter 228 78. What about you?

Dark clouds and lightning have crossed the ridgeline of the Iron Mountains and are moving inexorably towards Grond. The army that responded to Darkus' call is slowly marching towards the northern storm, a cold wind that seems to carry the iron smell of blood. It stirred the plains and brushed the faces of the weather-beaten Druchi army.

The Druchi soldiers were silent, looking coldly at the storm ahead, while the wild beasts and giant beasts roared uneasily as the trainers drove them away.

Darkus frowned and looked at the ridgeline in the distance. He saw that the sky in the far north was filled with rolling black and purple clouds. Lines of lightning extended from the sky to the ground, and after a long time, the deafening thunder sounded in his ears.

Lightning pierced the sky again, and Malus finally looked back at the infantry troops behind him. He saw the figure of the fear lord standing at the front of the troops, waiting for the enemy to arrive.

"Stand still, you idiots!" The Fear Lord turned to look at his soldiers and roared tenaciously, and his voice even penetrated the loud thunder. He then roared, "Look ahead! Those depraved beasts actually had the courage to rush up this hillside and die! They all made me laugh. At this moment, I want to kneel on the ground and thank Kane, the great bloody-hand god. Gift, because I have never seen such a stupid enemy!"

The crossbow arrows hissed in the air and traced arc-shaped trajectories. When the crossbow arrows fell into the enemy army, not a single crossbow arrow fell to the ground. Howls of rage turned into screams of agony as lightning tore through the poorly equipped Chaos Waves. Hundreds of Yankees and Beastmen fell, their bodies trampled by their companions, and they continued to charge forward.

As the Black Sharp Repeater Crossbowmen quickly reloaded their repeating crossbows, the charging Chaos Wave had reached the foot of the mountain.

"get ready!"

Another roaring bolt of lightning crashed into the Chaos Wave, inflicting hundreds more injuries and deaths as its corpses tumbled and piled at the bottom of the slope. The savage beastmen crawled over the riddled corpses or knocked their injured companions aside. Some of the beastmen crawled on all fours, trying to rush into the close Druchi defense line.

The black sharp repeater crossbowmen suppressed the fear in their hearts and raised their repeating crossbows to prepare for another salvo. The wave of chaos was already approaching.

"The first two rows kneel down!"

As the Dread Lord roared, the Dread Spearman knelt down on one knee in obedience.

"Back row, fire!"

The crossbow bolts fired close to the face rolled up the tide of chaos, and the Chaos warriors in the front row fell like harvested wheat.

In less than a minute, the hillside turned into a killing field, littered with the bodies of the dead, and the retreating cavalrymen marveled at the scale of the carnage.

The wave of chaos crashed into Druch's army, making a huge sound of tearing steel and crashing, the sound echoing on the hillside. Axes, clubs, swords and claws struck against shields and armor as Druchi's army staggered under the weight of the attack.

Malus could hear the rough voices of the Dread Lords spitting savage oaths to the troops, who responded with a collective roar. Spears gleaming with black light stabbed at the enemy, and the angry howls of the Chaos Waves turned once again into screams of agony as the Druchi soldiers pushed their training and discipline to the limit.

Soon, the Druchi soldiers were overwhelmed by the wave of chaos.

Malus turned back and glanced secretly at the retreating cavalry. He could see a trace of confusion and frustration on the pale faces of the cavalry.

Black and purple clouds followed the frustrated cavalry all the way back to Grond, and the thunder of lightning followed at their heels like angry curses. It took them nearly an hour to retreat to Dagrond, and Malus glanced behind him frequently throughout the retreat, wondering if the Dread Lord and his men were still fighting, although he knew it was highly unlikely.

When the cavalry entered the city gate, the battlements were covered with gloomy Druchi faces.

Malus looked up and saw a flag fluttering on the city wall. The heavy cloth was swinging listlessly in the cold wind. Nagaryth's gold-woven flag had the dragon's symbol and crown on it. He knew that Malekith was carrying Nagaryth with him. Garond's army arrives. He had imagined returning to Grond with a victorious army, listening to the sound of trumpets from the city walls as he laid his sister's head before Malekith.

Now Malus returned defeated, leaving only the handful of cavalry he once led. He could feel the weight of each surviving soldier of his army staring at him as they entered Grond. As the last of his cavalry disappeared outside the walls of Grond, a mournful trumpet sounded from the walls.

Malus turned around and looked behind him for the last time. He saw that the plain behind him was submerged by the marching wave of chaos. He vaguely felt that this seemed to be the last time he would lead an army.

Nagalia's forces finally reached Grond.

With the sound of turning hinges, the door began to creak shut.

A large number of Druch soldiers were waiting to rest in the square. A Druch riding a huge cold lizard was waiting in the center of the square.

Malus walked over tiredly, even the malice beneath him was too tired, and he could only sniff at the soldiers feebly.

"You look like you were dragged through a butcher's shop." Silsis crossed his hands on the saddle and looked at Malus with a critical eye. He said directly without preparing an opening statement.

Walking through a butcher's shop is a very unfriendly greeting in Druch society, as you are like a defeated dog at this moment, disgraced.

"A burning butcher's shop," Malus corrected, glaring at Silsis.

"His Majesty the Witch King wishes to hear your report." To Malus's surprise, Silses nodded solemnly, and his expression became businesslike and serious.

Malus sighed, with a bitter smile on his blood-stained face. He wanted to say something but in the end he didn't.

"Is there anything that interests you?" Hirsis asked, frowning at Malus's strange expression.

"I was thinking that a thousand brave Druchi just gave their lives because of me, so that I can be executed in peace. Let's go, don't keep His Majesty the Witch King waiting."

"It's best to let the Witch King and the gathered fear lords see their future." Silsis offered to give Malus some time to tidy up his appearance, but he refused with a wry smile, he couldn't help but think.

"After the executioner needs to chop off my head, will my body squirm like a snake for several hours?" Malus walked erratically, and he realized that he had been sitting on the saddle for two consecutive days. It's a miracle that his legs can still move. He didn't notice the pain of the wound. Due to the corrosion of the demon's power, the wound healed very quickly. He even thought about it with pleasure.

Two tall doors were engraved with Grond's emblem, and twenty Black Guards stood on both sides and watched indifferently as the doors slowly opened.

Malekith sat on the Iron Throne and looked at Malus with his orange eyes uncertainly, as if he was brewing something.

Malus felt the scorching gazes of Malekith and the Fear Lords sticking to his skin like irons. He looked around and did not recognize any dignitary who was familiar with him.

If the gathered Dread Lords expected Malus to cower under their gaze, they would only be disappointed. He glanced at them briefly before focusing most of his attention on Malekith seated on the throne.

"I come on your orders, Your Majesty the Witch King."

"Have you fulfilled my bidding, Malus of Hagrid Grave?" Malekith asked, his voice boiling from his helm like steam from a furnace.

"I was born to serve you, Your Majesty the Witch King."

"Then tell me everything you did!"

Malus then recounted his actions upon reaching Grond and his failed attack on Nagalia's camp. He left no detail untouched, noting the heroism and self-sacrifice of the Dread Lord at the rear and his soldiers.

"It is because of their courage that I can stand here and tell these facts. Your Majesty the Witch King, I am very ashamed. I led so many of the best warriors to death." Malus said with shame.

"Your Majesty, he is quibbling. He led the troops to death. That was part of the plan he made with his sister outside the city! Last year, the two of them caused great damage in Hagrid Grave."

"How big is the army of Chaos?" Malekith ignored the sudden noise and continued to ask.

"I estimate that there are about a hundred thousand enemies, Your Majesty the Witch King."

After hearing the news, Malekith did not ask any more questions this time, but looked at Malus uncertainly.

"If Your Majesty is willing to kill me or sacrifice me to Nagalia, then let's start. I admit my failure." Malus couldn't stand it anymore, and he collapsed. He was exhausted, his body was worn out, his knees were beginning to hurt and he struggled painfully to stand up.

The Dread Lords who were about to say something were stunned, and even Malekith seemed taken aback by Malus' tired frankness.

"You brought Nagalia to Grond as I ordered." Malekith finally said.

"But? Your Majesty, he lost more than half of Grond's army!" a fear lord exclaimed.

"Yes, so. Black Blade, you will no longer command the army." When Malekith said, he leaned forward on the throne, pointed the index finger of his right hand at Malus and then said, "On the contrary , I name you my champion to fight against my enemies and kill them on my behalf.”

Malus was stunned for a moment when he heard this. He didn't understand what Malekith meant.

"This is my decree, Malus of Hagrid Grave, that you shall be named my champion, and shall wear on your armor the Tiran (noun, representing the status of a champion, Draka's girdle). So are the three skulls on.), so that both Druchi and Chaos will know that you fight in my name. The glory of Druchi rests on your shoulders, do not abandon it, or the wrath of the gods will befall you. On the body."

"I...I obey your orders, Your Majesty the Witch King." Malus bowed in front of the throne and replied. He knew that this was not a reward, but another game of Malekith. He was just too tired to see what Malekith was planning. But no matter what, he couldn't refuse.

"How could this happen?" one of the Dreadlords exclaimed, his voice filled with rage as he continued, "He has committed a grave crime against Druch, and he has committed a grave crime against you, Witch-King. Your Majesty. Not only does he continue to live, but he is worthy of such an honor."

"He is alive because he meets the purpose of His Majesty the Witch King." A voice came from the door, and Darkus walked out of the shadows quietly, his eyes flashing coldly, and he glanced at this person who wanted to Say something to the Grond Dreadlord.

"Your Majesty the Witch King, the armies of Krakaronde, Kalonde Karl, Hagrid Grave, and Hal Gancy have arrived." After speaking, Darkus walked to a table in the hall and took out two He poured the wine into a clean inverted wine glass. After drinking one glass, he picked up another glass and handed it to Malus who was standing there.

Malus took the wine glass and drank it in one gulp. After taking the wine glass back, Darkus walked back to the table and put the wine glass back to its place.

"Why are you still standing?" Darkus turned back and raised his head to Malus and then said, "Forget it, just stand here and listen."

Malekith had already stood up from the throne, walked down the steps to the table, picked up the wine glass that Darkus drank from before, poured another glass of wine and handed it to Darkus, waiting for Dark After Us took it, he picked up a clean empty wine glass.

Darkus didn't say anything, but raised his wine glass to Malekith. Malekith also raised his empty wine glass to greet him, and he drank all the wine in the glass.

"Hal Gonthy's Tularis the Fearbreader (that's a synonym) led five thousand Cain cultists, and Kalonde Kal's Kira Nightlord led twenty thousand soldiers, pirates and mercenaries. , Lord Draka of Hagrid Grave led 25,000 soldiers and knights, and Lord Annasara of Krakarond led 32,000 soldiers. And I took Ed. Lei Ze's two thousand-man religious groups and the Nagol's three thousand soldiers. My Majesty, except for the places that need to be defended, all the remaining forces in Nagaroth are here. It can be said that there is a gathering of elites!" Darkwu Si said with a serious expression, he was not happy about coordinating the transfer of so many troops in a short time, and there was nothing happy about it.

"That's good. You did a great job." Malekith nodded and said calmly.

"You set off too early. You should have waited for me for two more days. Originally, I wanted you to review it before setting off. Now there are seven black arks and a large number of looters parked at the dock in Nagarond. That dock ..." Darkus continued, shrugging his shoulders with disgust as he spoke. He continued, "This terminal needs to be expanded on a large scale. In the follow-up plan, Nagarond needs a port with a huge throughput. port."

"It won't be too late to review when we return victorious, and there will be slaves to expand the dock after our victory." Malekith laughed after hearing this, and said proudly after laughing, as if he was victorious now. It's like the fruit has reached his mouth (who said it, it's like planting a flag in reverse).

Malus, who was stuck on the spot, looked at Malekith and Darkus blankly, and he was a little confused. He wasn't the only one who didn't understand, the fear lords in the hall, Egilethor and Coran Blackhand didn't understand either.

It was outrageous enough that Malekith didn't issue the recruitment order again after Darkus originally issued it. Moreover, no one in Drukhi society except Morathi dared to speak like this to Malekith. If it were anyone else, Malekith would directly activate the "Fist of the Witch King" skill in the next second, and the whole family would be killed in the next second. It will be hung on the outer wall of Malekith's Black Tower.

Here comes the even more outrageous one.

"What are your plans next?" Malekith asked directly.

"I don't think it's time to go out of the city to organize a battle." Darkus took out the pipe from his arms, and when he held it in his mouth, the tobacco was lit. He was attracted by the newly planted tobacco from Krakalond. He choked and coughed violently. He didn't like this tobacco. Maybe like his brother, he only accepted the initial Lustria flavor. After coughing, he continued, "You should use Grond's City Defense." Constantly consuming the enemy, our precious soldiers should not die here. I passed by Grond once before when I came back from the dangerous peaks. There is a high point that I like very much. Nukel will build a fortified city there. The village and Grond echo each other from afar."

"What about you?" Malekith paced and thought, and after a while he nodded and asked.

"Karonde Carl's army and Hal Gansi's Cain cultists will enter Goronde to assist in the defense before the enemy encircles them. I now need to know the number of mobile troops in Goronde city. If there is more, there will be less to make up for." Keus said after exhaling the smoke, then he laughed, and then said, "Since the other party wants me, then I will wait for them outside the city!"

"Okay!" Malekith laughed again. He had already understood Darkus's arrangement. He was communicating with Grond at a high point, sharing the enemy's strength, and his mobile force could attack the enemy's weak points at any time.