Just being a dark elf in Warhammer

This is a psychological warfare, a precise and ruthless psychological warfare.

The commotion in the military camp became more and more obvious. The appearance of the two curtains was like a boulder that stirred up a huge wave in the entire military camp. The soldiers' original confusion and helplessness were shattered by the clear promotion route and the promise of gold piles on the curtains, followed by talk and noise.

Even the loyal soldiers who were marching and defending could not help but turn their heads and look at the huge curtains hanging in the air.

"It's over, it's completely over."

The face of a senior officer became paler than the last moment, and his fingers trembled weakly, as if even the long sword in his hand could not bear this heavy fear. His eyes were fixed on the curtains, and his heartbeat merged with the rhythm of the noise, getting faster and heavier.

As a soldier who had been on the battlefield for a long time, he certainly understood the intention of the two curtains. The lethality of the curtains was far more deadly than sharp weapons and fierce attacks.

His throat was dry, and the uneasiness in his heart almost made him unstable.

At this moment, he completely lost the command of the troops. The master's lofty talk and the plan that was once highly expected seemed vulnerable and particularly ridiculous in front of these two curtains.

Every promotion route, every stack of Sovereign gold coins, announced one thing: loyalty will be rewarded, betrayal will be crushed!

"I have to escape! Escape from here, immediately!"

For a moment, there was only one thought in his mind.

But where can he escape? The cold eyes of the Witch King are on the walls of Nagarond, and the ruthless blades of the loyalists are in the barracks. Even if he steps into the sea of ​​evil and resentment, only a more terrible doom awaits him.

The idea of ​​escaping burned him like a flame, but was extinguished by the cold and ruthless reality. He could only stand there, his body stiff, as if nailed to the ground.

At the same time, the soldiers changed from looking at each other in bewilderment and whispering questions at the beginning to careful observation and intense conversation. They began to gather together, discussing the clear connections and tempting promises on the curtains in groups of three or five, and their eyes turned from confusion to seeking knowledge. The commotion began to spread, and the sound waves gradually gathered into an uncontrollable wave.

"Look at this crown, it's exactly the same as the centurion's."

"This golden thing... is gold sovereign, right? It's our bounty!"

"Is it military pay?"

"Then... can we... get these things too?"

"By year? Or by month?"

"I don't know!"

The soldiers talked a lot, and every word was full of uncontrollable desire. Just a few minutes ago, they were still thinking about what unknown mission they would be sent to perform, but now, their attention was firmly attracted by the curtain.

They only had one question lingering: Are these really related to us?

"Kindness, generosity..."

Dacus's palm slid gently in the air, feeling the touch of the cold wind. His eyes penetrated farther, pursuing a distant place that could not be reached. He repeated these words in a low voice, with a little mockery and self-mockery in his tone.

In the Duruchi society, these words are like a strange skin and personality, which are put on him, making him look so abrupt and incompatible with everything in Nagaros.

He often feels that this kindness and generosity is like an unexpectedly born stalk. At first, it was just a political strategy that suited his interests, but gradually, the stalk became a habit, the habit became an identity, and the identity eventually became a kind of unbreakable shackle.

"But I can't help but love them..."

He suddenly sighed, and the light in his eyes became soft, but also mixed with a hint of heaviness. He is not a naive idealist. He can even say very confidently: He knows Duruchi's coldness, cruelty and hypocrisy better than anyone else.

He understands Duruchi's cunning, Duruchi's betrayal and killing, but none of this can change a fact. Contradictory and twisted, he loves Duruchi, loves these Duruchi, and loves this twisted and painful tribe.

He loves their stubbornness and pride, their struggle in the endless darkness, and their survival instinct in the cold world. He loves those children who look up at the stars in the dark, those warriors who still persist under the blade, and even those who stand in the enemy camp and look at him with hatred.

The family was his anchor at first, which is why he chose to return north after completing his initial journey to Lustria. If his family is like Lehan's family, he is sick, seriously ill, and he sits on the back of a triceratops and plays with lizardmen.

Now...

"But... I don't need them to love me."

His voice was light, but firm. He looked down at the pocket watch and closed it gently, as if he was stamping his heart with some kind of seal.

"But I hope they can live and see something other than betrayal and cruelty one day."

Kindness and generosity may just be his way of confronting the world, and his way to fight for some possibility for Duruchi. He thought, but did not fantasize that he could change the entire tribe, but if he could save some people from hunger, let some soldiers not sleep with knives under their pillows after retirement, and let some children run with smiles instead of shivering in the dark.

He's willing to give it his all!

"Kids! Your Daddy Duck is here!"

His voice was not loud, but it was full of warmth and strength. He knew that they might never fully understand him, and that one day they might turn around and raise their swords against him because of interests, fear or anger.

But it didn't matter!

What mattered was that he chose love.

He loved every Duruchi, no matter who they were or who they would become in the future. As he believed, love was not a symbol of fragility, but the most unshakable power he could give them in this cruel world!

"Old man, can you let me see your... style?"

In response to Dacus, Splintwin gave a deafening roar. This roar was like thunder, echoing between the clouds, frightening the soldiers on the ground.

Then Splintwin slightly adjusted his wings, the air whistled under his wings, and then he dived down like a falling meteor.

"Beast! You beast!"

The voice of the senior officer became sharp due to fear. He held a thorn blade in his hand and stabbed the neck of the manticore while cursing wildly. He tried to force this wild and unruly creature to fly faster and farther, escape the swooping range of the dragon, instead of charging at the dragon.

However, the manticore is not an ordinary flying creature. Not only is its brain not smart enough, but its fighting instinct is also extremely strong. Normal flying creatures would have turned around and fled when facing a huge dragon. But the manticore faced the challenge. Its cold vertical pupils stared at the swooping dragon, and a low roar came from its throat. The claws of its limbs spread out in the air, posing a posture ready to fight for its life at any time.

"You idiot! Don't run! Do you want to die?!"

The senior officer waved the thorn blade at the neck of the manticore, trying to make the manticore obedient, while cursing constantly.

The manticore completely ignored the scolding and attack on its back. Its natural ferocity was aroused to the extreme at this moment. Its wings were spread to the limit, and it let out a more piercing scream in response to the roar of the dragon, announcing its challenge.

Darkus looked at this scene and couldn't help but reveal a sinister sneer. He loved every Duruchi, this was beyond doubt and undeniable, but... there were many ways to love.

Sprintwin suddenly twisted his body, spread his wings and accelerated his dive. The huge figure was like a giant dragon covering the manticore and its owner. The strong airflow rotated under the wings of the dragon, setting off a gust of wind that shook the earth, as if the king of heaven and earth was descending.

His front paws stretched out like lightning, and at the moment of confrontation with the manticore, he effortlessly grabbed the manticore firmly.

Darkus's originally calm face suddenly became ferocious, and then he closed his eyes tightly, as if trying to block all this out of his mind. He couldn't see Splinterwin's movements, nor did he want to. Even if he could see, he would never focus on this unsuspected crushing.

Splinterwin was the predecessor of Baldros. Teclis and Fenrir at their peak could not do anything to him who had turned into chaos, and they could only choose to seal him in the end. Even without turning into chaos, his strength was very strong and his combat experience was very rich, far exceeding some dragons. After all, he was forced to fight with dwarves during the War of Revenge, and he could max out his skills in dodging projectiles.

As long as he was not in the lair, like Superman, fighting in the toilet...

Moreover, the manticore was on the red dragon's menu, but now Splinterwin's appetite was gradually becoming more and more picky.

The manticore's thick muscles and hard bones seemed to have no resistance under the dragon's claws. With a tooth-grinding bone cracking sound, its body twisted and deformed like a piece of torn cloth.

The sound of bone cracking came one after another from a distance, gradually becoming clearer and louder, like a nightmare symphony. A terrible wail followed, sharp and painful, as if telling the despair of the manticore's inability to resist.

Daxus frowned, and his mind began to sketch out pictures: the manticore's body was twisted into an indescribable shape, its wings were torn, its tail was twisted at a weird angle, and blood splattered, blurring everything.

In reality, Splinterwin's huge claws exerted a little force, and the manticore let out a last heart-wrenching wail, and then collapsed limply.

For Splinterwin, this was just a short game. He used his claws to toss the poor creature over and over casually, and then threw the manticore to the ground like throwing away a rag.

The body of the manticore fell like a meteorite, hitting the ground heavily, stirring up a cloud of dust. The high-ranking officer on its back let out a miserable wail in mid-air, trying to grab something to stop himself from falling, but to no avail.

The body of the high-ranking officer rolled around like a leaf in the wind, and finally fell to the ground with the remains of the manticore, making a muffled sound.

"In your next life, choose a reliable mount."

Daxus slowly opened his eyes and exhaled deeply, as if he had expelled everything from his chest. He did not look down at the "work" completed by Splinterwin, but just whispered to the unfortunate officer in his heart.

The soldiers in the military camp happened to witness this scene. The huge manticore was like a helpless toy, being crushed and torn at will under the dragon's claws until it fell to the ground lifelessly. The tragic wail and the muffled sound when it hit the ground were like a death knell in their hearts.

Some soldiers stood there, their eyes dull, and they even forgot to breathe. Someone took a trembling step back, but stepped on his companion's boots and fell to the ground in shock.

In the distance, the officers trying to escape also saw all this. They mobilized the Dark Pegasus and Manticore to leave, but stopped one after another after witnessing the terrifying power of the dragon.

Over the military camp, the giant red dragon hovered after swooping down. The air flow brought by its tail swept across the ground, kicking up dust and tents. The powerful sense of oppression was like an invisible net, tightly covering them.

"this……"

An officer held the reins in his hand, his voice trembling. No one answered his words. The other officers just stared at the sky, with fear, hesitation, and more of despair in their eyes. Their mounts, whether they were Pegasus or Manticore, could feel the pressure from the dragon and began to stir and neigh uneasily.

"That's not an ordinary dragon...its gaze...its breath...that's..."

The other officer was rambling incoherently, his voice sharp with fear. He grasped the reins tightly with both hands, but found that his Pegasus did not obey the command at all, but just paced and trembled on the ground.

Splinterwen circled in the air, his scales glowing eerily in the dim light. He roared, his voice echoing like thunder over the military camp.

The fate of the manticore was like a silent warning to all who tried to escape that their choice might not be better than staying.

"Don't be stunned! Escape quickly! It's still too late!"

Some people shouted, but no one acted. One is because they were frightened by the terrifying power and hesitated, their feet seemed to be locked by invisible force. The other is that they know that forcefully taking off now is just a back-up to buy time for others to escape...

The fact that they can reach this level means that they are not stupid, but they are also stupid. They wasted their last and precious chance to escape.

"This...this is death!"

A nearly collapsed officer yelled, with despair and fear in his voice. His hands loosened the reins feebly and his eyes were wandering. At this moment, he realized that he had no way to escape.

At the same time, the soldiers on the ground began to stir. They whispered, some tried to escape, some stood still, and some even put down their weapons and knelt on the ground with their heads in their hands. They didn't know what to do next, but one thing was clear, this place was about to become their Ming Lai, and the red dragon was the descending Ming Lai messenger.

"Can I tell them more about you?"

Malekith, who was standing on the city wall, stared deeply at the chaotic scene in the military camp. Then he turned his head slightly and looked at Maloch beside him, with a somewhat tentative tone in his tone.

"I don't mind."

Maloch, who was holding his arms and looking straight into the distance, responded calmly. He knew what Malekith was asking. His tone was lazy, as if he didn't care about everything. However, that tall figure and calm aura silently announced his presence.

At the same time, Splinterwen on the other side slowly lingered in the sky over the military camp, and his huge body was like an oppressive shadow, shrouding the center of the military camp. Those red pupils flashed like burning torches, looking down at everything below, making the already restless soldiers even more frightened.

After taking a deep breath, Darkus took a step forward and blew the horn. The sound spread long and clearly to all directions. The first horn sounded to stop the attack. The tone seemed to have some special power, causing the soldiers and officers in the military camp to subconsciously stop their movements.

Then the horn sounded again, this time the signal was to stay put.

This horn was steady and stern, with an unquestionable sense of command, resounding over the military camp. All the soldiers were shocked by the sound. They stopped what they were doing and looked up at the giant dragon high in the sky.

The din throughout the military camp gradually subsided, replaced by an oppressive silence.

Darkus stood on Splinterwen's dragon head, staring at the silent military camp below. The huge figure of the red dragon hovered high in the sky, and when its wings flapped, it stirred up strong winds, causing everyone's robes and banners to billow violently.

At this moment, the hustle and bustle of the entire military camp gradually subsided, replaced by a suppressed silence, and all eyes were focused on this lonely but majestic figure.

"Soldiers, maybe you don't know yet, but a lot of things happened today."

Darkus's voice clearly penetrated the wind and silence and reached everyone's ears. His tone was both irresistibly authoritative and surprisingly comforting.

"You may have been told to come to fight, but no one told you the truth of the war. You may have been ordered to stand here, but no one has ever explained why you are standing here. Today, I am not here to question you, I am not I’m here to blame you. I know that many of you don’t even know why this is happening.”

He paused and glanced at the nervous soldiers, but he couldn't see anything... Splinterwin's hovering position was still a bit high, perhaps in response to the sentence: Kunpeng spreads its wings for ninety thousand miles, and can fly as fast as If you are high, you can't see the ants underground?

However, there is no cold judgment in his eyes, but a deep compassion and care, as if he is looking at a group of souls who are trapped by fate and drifting helplessly.

"But I want to tell you! I understand your confusion, I see the fear in your eyes, and I feel the struggle and uneasiness in your hearts. You are not alone! The Witch King has not given up on you!"

"Today, I stand here not to make you feel abandoned, but to tell you! You are not just a tool, not just a puppet controlled by orders. You are the backbone of Nagaroth, the one who supports this land. The foundation of the land! Your flesh and blood are the true source of power for Druch!"

"No matter which side you are on at the moment, no matter which family head is behind you, you still have the right to choose! In this land, in this upcoming change, everyone has the opportunity to control their own Destiny and strive for a hopeful future for yourself and your family!”

"This is not a gift given to you, no! No!! No!!! This is the right you deserve! You are no longer nameless people who bleed for the benefit of others, you are the people of Nagaros, this is The owners of this land! Today’s decision will determine the future direction.”

His voice ignites the air around him, and every word carries a power that cannot be ignored, making people feel shocked and inspired from the bottom of their hearts.

This is not only a speech, but also a soul-salvation that directly touches the heart!

"This is……"

"Hand of the Witch King?"

"Is it really him?"

"Is what he said true?"

The soldiers below began to stir, their eyes intertwined with confusion and shock, and their whispered conversations gradually converged into a low hum.

"Has he always been so eloquent?"

Maloch, who was watching and listening to all this, let out a deep laugh. This laughter was full of curiosity and also revealed a trace of emotion that could not be concealed. He looked down at Malekith standing aside, lowered his voice, and spoke in what he thought was a whisper.

"Of course, it looks like you've learned the lesson."

Malekith turned his head slightly and looked at Maloch. His voice was calm but contained a somewhat meaningful response.

Maloch grinned with a vague smile, crossed his arms, and watched Darkus's speech with some approval in his eyes.

Mordax on the side had a different feeling. She stood on the high wallpaper and witnessed Dacus continuing to write his legend. At this moment, she even felt that Dacus was something beyond power and power. A symbol of fear.

"Soldiers! Raise your head! Look there! Hope is in front of you. Opportunity is in front of you! What you see is not just a connection diagram, it is your future and hope! For yourself and your family, Make your choice for Nagaros!"

Darkus's voice was mixed with unshakable determination and passionate passion, and every word was like a flame igniting in the chests of the soldiers.

"It tells you that every soldier, as long as you have the ability and determination, you can change your own destiny! Your efforts will be recognized and your loyalty will be rewarded!"

"In the history of our Druchi, there has never been any equality! In the past, we were oppressed, divided, and forced to sacrifice our lives for endless struggles! But today!"

His voice suddenly became high-pitched.

"All this will change!"

"From now on, you will no longer blindly follow an ignorant and greedy family head, and no longer sacrifice your lives for their false honor and a war that does not belong to you! You will no longer be treated as a silent tool and consumable! Your loyalty only belongs to the goals you recognize! Your value is determined by you!”

Darkus's voice became more powerful, pouring out like a mountain torrent.

"Look there! Those connecting lines are not shackles, but ladders! It tells you that as long as you have the strength and courage, you can climb to any height! Every sweat and every drop of blood will be remembered and will never be seen again. Being covered up will not be sacrificed in vain! Those who do not know how to repay your efforts will no longer have a foothold!"

"We no longer just fight for survival, we fight for glory! We fight to change our destiny! Remember, you are not alone. Every Druchi on this land will witness that you are the real ones. The power that sustains this land!”

"Starting today, a new order has arrived for you! Don't be afraid, don't hesitate, take your first step and prove that you deserve a better future! You will gain the power of Nagaryth and Ashriel. Land, a land that belongs to you, you will have groups of descendants, and they will surround you and listen to you tell your heroic deeds! "

The soldiers in the military camp seemed to be infected by some invisible force. Their originally wandering eyes gradually focused, and the noise and commotion began to subside, replaced by an indescribable expectation and shock.

Every word of Darkus was like a war drum beating on their hearts, and flames gradually ignited in their eyes. Some people clenched their weapons, and some raised their heads and looked at the curtain.

The seeds of change began to take root and sprout deep in their hearts.

On the deck of the Vicious Temple, Bel-Ahor held the guardrail tightly, his knuckles slightly white due to the force. His eyes were fixed on the figure of Springtwin, watching Dacus overlooking the barracks and pouring out a shocking speech word by word. He could hear every word and every note clearly. Dacus's voice seemed to have some kind of irresistible magic, penetrating the eardrum and reaching the depths of his soul.

Charming, magical, worth following, worth shouting for...

He took a deep breath, and the complex emotions surging in his chest almost suffocated him. He saw a leader, a strong man, a true king!

Dacus's figure was more shocking and more powerful than when he first saw it in the forest of Athel Loren.

He had a feeling that Dacus was the master who held the whole world in his hands. Dacus's words and deeds affected the fate of thousands of people, and that invisible majesty was as hot as a flame.

But he is Asur, not Druki.

This thought suddenly hit his heart like a cold hammer. His eyes swayed slightly and looked towards the east, which was his homeland, the land of Ulthuan full of glory and honor. He was Asur, the defender of order. He had been indoctrinated that Druki was just a traitor, a fallen man, and an existence that must be liquidated.

However, now, these ideas began to crumble in his heart.

He raised his head and looked at Daquus again. He knew that there was something in this man that attracted him, infected him, and even gave him an impulse to surrender. He could feel that this power transcended language and reason and acted directly on the soul.

"This is not right, this is not right!"

Bel-Ahor shouted frantically in his heart, and his hand slowly loosened the guardrail, but the struggle still filled his brain. He closed his eyes tightly and felt the cold wind blowing across his cheeks. His heart was extremely contradictory, half of which was rational resistance and half of which was emotional surrender. He knew that he was standing at a fork in the road where he could not turn back, and no matter which road he took, it would completely change his life.

On the deck of the raider, Isharion stared at Dakwus in the distance, holding the bow and arrow tightly in both hands, his joints stiff and aching. His breathing was rapid, and his chest seemed to be burned by fire.

"I should shoot and end it all with one arrow."

This thought was lingering in his mind like a venomous snake, lingering. He even felt the touch of the bowstring when it was fully drawn, and the coldness of the arrow trembling at his fingertips. His anger was burning, but that anger had no clear direction. He was not angry at Dakwus himself, but at himself. He was bewitched by this Druki and shaken by Dakwus' words.

He looked at the bow and arrow in his hand, which was a precious weapon passed down from his father, carrying his mission as an Asur. How could I allow myself to be guided by Druki? They are fallen, betrayers! He screamed wildly in his heart, but no matter how he tried to convince himself, the arrow never left the string.

His arms trembled and his throat tightened. He tried to force himself to believe that what Dacus said was just a lie and trick used by Duruchi, but his eyes could not deny what he saw. It was a power completely different from what he had known before, a pure and deep belief.

"A new era has arrived!"

Dacus' voice echoed like thunder, with unquestionable power.

"From today on, Nagaros is no longer a slave to the powerful, but the destination of the strong! I want to tell you that the real strong are not those garbage who oppress and deceive with power, but you! You warriors who write martial arts songs with blood, sweat, loyalty and courage!"

"We will have the most powerful warriors in the world! The most fearless warriors! We will have the most prosperous economy and the most productive workers! But all this has only one premise, that is, every Duruchi has fair opportunities and fair chances!"

His voice gradually rose, and passion exploded in every syllable.

"Your strength! Your talent! Your loyalty! Will not be buried! From today on, you are no longer tools, no longer puppets driven by others!"

"I believe in you! You will never let the Witch King down, never! Never!! Never!!! Because we are Duruchi! We will never bow, we will never surrender! Facing the enemy, we are fearless! Facing difficulties, we endure and overcome!"

The soldiers' breathing gradually became rapid, and Dakuus' words ignited the fire deep in their hearts. At this moment, every Duruchi was filled with uncontrollable tremors. They were no longer confused, no longer hesitant, and only one belief filled their hearts: Go forward, fight for themselves, for the future!

"We will never let the Witch King down!"

Dakuus raised his arms high, like a spark of fire, his voice was loud and firm.

After a moment of silence, the shouting sounded like a stone thrown into the lake, stirring up layers of ripples.

"Never!"

"Never!!"

"Never!!!"

The voice began to sound from one place, and quickly spread to every corner of the military camp, sweeping over the city walls and the Ark like a tide. The soldiers raised their weapons high, and their shouts shook the earth. Even the unchanging lead-gray sky of Naggaroth trembled with their enthusiasm.

"Because we are Duruchi!"

"We will never bow! We will never surrender! Facing the enemy, we are fearless! Facing difficulties, we endure and overcome!"

The cheers became louder and louder, and the soldiers waved their weapons. The clanging sound of armor and weapons colliding was like an invisible war drum, hitting everyone's heart. They forgot their fatigue, fear, and their previous confusion and division. At this moment, they only knew that they were Duruchi, an invincible existence.

Marekis on the city wall watched all this coldly. He did not speak, but a barely perceptible smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. He stood there quietly, allowing this frenzy of cheers to continue to spread.

Darkius stretched out his hand, pointing to the curtain, pointing to the distance.

"Did you see it? That's your future! It tells you that we have overcome every challenge, we have endured every pain, and we always! Always!! Always!!! Move forward! Move forward!! Move forward!!! No matter how many storms there are, no matter how many enemies try to push us into the abyss, we will use iron and fire, wisdom and courage to open up our own path!"

"That's why we are Duruchi! We are the best in this world! Because we don't accept our fate, we don't bow our heads, we use our own hands to create our own glory!"

"Join the Witch King! Embrace the new era!"

"Use your wisdom, courage and loyalty to win a future for yourself! For Duruchi! For Naggaroth! For your family! For yourself, fight! Fight! Fight!!!"

At this moment, Daquus suddenly raised his arm, and set off a wave of emotions like the moment when the horn sounded.

"Fight! Fight! Fight!!! Fight!!!"

"Fight!"

Malekis was silent for a moment, then raised his arm and roared. Although his voice was not as passionate as Dacus's, when he waved his arms, all the remaining Duruchi nobles shouted loudly.

"Fight! Fight! Fight!!!"

A huge wave of sound swept through, shaking Nagarond and Naggaroth.

"Fight! Fight!! Fight!!!"

The shouts became louder and louder, rushing straight into the sky, like a huge wave swallowing everything.

At this moment, the souls of the Duruchi were ignited by Dacus's voice and belief. (End of this chapter)