Just being a dark elf in Warhammer

Morathi's displeasure was usually fatal, but Alandrian still calmly walked up the steps of Alec's palace.

It's true that he hasn't captured or killed the mysterious Shadow King, yet he's come closer to success than anyone in the past six years. Not foolish enough to think that Morathi would simply forgive him for his failure, he had devised a new plan that would not only capture the elusive rebel, but would also be part of his atonement. He even boldly requested an audience instead of waiting for the Queen's summons.

After entering the throne room, Alandrian was stunned by the smile on Morathi's face. Morathi sat on a chair next to Aenarion's great throne, wearing a long robe of white fur and black silk, naked. His arms and legs looked particularly pale under the light. Morathi's demeanor appeared to be very approachable, but this open attitude disturbed him more than the scowl.

He could feel dark magic crawling through his skin, and there seemed to be vague shapes flickering at the edge of his vision. Whispers and low-pitched mocking voices could be heard vaguely in his ears. He suppressed trembling and tried his best to ignore these temptations and provocations. Focus on the queen in front of you.

"My Queen, I deeply apologize for not being able to capture the traitor that has been plaguing your mind lately."

"Stand up." Morathi's tone was neither cold nor friendly, and then she continued in the same plain tone, "We can waste a lot of time and let me list your failures one by one. But... … Can we assume that this conversation has gone the way we expected and now let’s move to phase two?”

Alandrien felt a twinge of fear. Didn't he have a chance to defend himself? Perhaps he overestimated his status and influence.

Morathi ignored Alandrian, but stood up and waved to several figures lurking in the shadows of the hall.

Three warlocks, two women and one man, the famous trio, Drusala, Ashnir and Marchio (Chapter 308, 309), walked out of the dark corner. They were dressed in dark purple robes, and their skin was covered with traces of ancient runes. These runes made Alandrian's teeth ache. He had never felt comfortable with magic. This ability seemed to him too dangerous.

"These are my three most promising disciples, Alandrian." Morathi said, walking lightly towards the prince, followed closely by the warlocks behind her.

Alandrian swallowed, his eyes wandering back and forth between Morathi's seductive eyes and the cold gazes of the sorcerers. Morathi stopped in front of him, raised a finger and gently pressed it on his lips that were about to speak. He felt a surge of energy spread through his body from Morathi's fingertips, stimulating his heartbeat and awakening the desires that had been buried deep in his heart since his wife's death.

"Quiet, prince, let me finish." Morathi's voice was as soft as velvet, like a gentle touch, "You still have a plan to capture the Shadow King, right? If I am kind and generous enough, I'm willing to give you another chance, right?"

Alandrian did not dare to speak and nodded numbly. Between the dark magic that filled his senses and Morathi's intoxicating presence, he was completely unable to clear his thoughts. He was shaking uncontrollably, trapped by a mixture of desire and fear, both of which stemmed from the same cause.

"very good!"

After Morathi finished speaking, she took a step back, crossed her arms on her perfect chest, put her weight on one leg, and revealed her smooth thighs through the slit in her robe. Alandrian forced himself to keep his gaze on her equally charming face, suppressing the urge to reach out and touch her alluring skin.

"I am not known for my kindness or generosity, but I will not be stingy with a man who has found so much favor with my son and has given so much to the cause of Nagaryth. Your past actions and loyalty go far beyond "My other subjects, despite your recent setbacks, you can still relax temporarily because you have also gained my favor."

After Morathi's magical influence dissipated, Alandrian regained his senses and was about to express his gratitude with tears in his eyes, but was stopped by Morathi's gentle shaking of his head.

"Don't grovel, it's beneath your dignity."

She waved her arms and turned around, her long black hair swirling around her shoulders like a dark cloud. She walked back to the chair, her waist swaying dizzyingly. Alandrian had to turn his eyes away. He didn't dare to look at her again until she sat down again and regained her noble and majestic demeanor.

"Tell me, how can my loyal servants assist you in accomplishing your goals?"

"We no longer have any bait that can be used to lure the Shadow King into the trap. If we want to assassinate this scorpion, we must find his lair and drag him out from the tail."

Alandrian said confidently. Morathi's behavior still made his thoughts a little confused, but he was glad that he had been fully prepared for these words.

"I agree, so how do you find him when thousands of others have failed?"

"I have conducted in-depth research on the raids he launched. At first, these attacks seemed random and irregular. But there was actually a pattern hidden in it. I had seen similar patterns before." Alandrian explained.

"Really? What did you find?" Morathi leaned forward slightly, stroking her delicate chin with her hand, and asked with interest.

"I am a hunter in Elshin Arwen, where the forests are rich in game. Some chase boars, some prefer deer, but I am not interested in either of these. I prefer to hunt creatures that also hunt. If you can beat the hunter at the hunter's game, you can truly prove yourself."

"This is a quality I admire very much at this moment. Please continue."

"The Shadow King hunts like a wolf, although it is difficult to detect, but it is there. Nagarythe is his territory, and he patrols these territories regularly, leaving his mark in one area and then moving to the next place.

In any year, he may attack anywhere, but for six years, his intentions have been known to me. After his next attack, we will know where he has been, and more importantly, I know where he will move to. We will strike quickly and capture him before he is caught off guard."

"This all sounds valuable, so what do you need me to do?" Morathi asked.

"Nagareth is so large that even your warlocks cannot cover the entire area with divination, especially when looking for a constantly moving target. I can only roughly estimate that the Shadow King may appear in a certain area, but this range is too large to be searched by conventional means without being noticed by him. So, with my theory, combined with the ability of one of your warlocks, we should be able to accurately find the location of the Shadow King."

"So, when you know his location, how do you plan to deal with it?" Morathi leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest.

"If you allow me to demonstrate, Your Majesty?"

After getting Morathi's nod of permission, Alandrian left the hall, and a moment later, he returned with two elves.

They were two women, who looked almost identical, like twins. They wore golden breastplates and arm guards inlaid with rubies, and the runes on them flashed like blood. Their hair was pulled into long braids and tied with tendons and bone headbands. The masks were painted blood-red, and bright eyes stared coldly at the outside world from behind the masks.

They carried a large number of weapons, with several daggers inserted in their belts and boots, two long swords hanging from their waists, and pairs of scimitars slung across their backs. The boots and fingerless gloves were inlaid with spikes and blades, and even their fingers were covered with rings with curved claw-shaped gold-plated iron rings.

"The two most promising slayers, I introduce you to my precious daughters, Lyris and Hellebron." Alandrian announced with a proud smile. "

This was the second time Morathi saw Hellebron, but just like she said to Hellebron when they parted for the first time, she had long forgotten Hellebron's name, so much so that when Hellebron stood in front of her the second time, she did not recognize her. She stood up and walked forward with an admiring look on her face. After carefully looking at Alandrian's daughters, she nodded with satisfaction.

"Well, yes, they will indeed become very good weapons, but you need someone to guide them to find their targets. "Morath whispered, with a hint of pleasure in her voice.

Morath turned and looked at her disciples, then motioned one of the women to come forward.

Compared to Alandrian's daughter, the sorceress was shorter and slender, with black hair that stopped at her shoulders. Her skin was even paler than Morath's, and her silver-white hair was interspersed with frost, making her look like a winter elf. She looked at Lyris and Hellebron coldly, her lips pursed, her eyes examining every detail.

"She is good at divination, let her get close to the target, and she will find the Shadow King. Come forward, dear, and introduce yourself to the prince. "

"I am honored to serve you, Prince Alandrian, my name is Ashnir. "The sorceress followed the instructions and stepped forward, nodding slightly as a courtesy. Her voice was as cold as ice, just like her attitude.

——

Alandrian's plan succeeded, he successfully blocked the Shadow King, but...

Ashniel took a step forward and stretched out a hand. A burst of snow-white fragments flew out from her fingertips and slashed at the shadow warriors. Frozen blood drops fell to the ground with a clinking sound. The cold wind blew across the flesh, and the skin was frozen blue with a slight scratch. The bow fell from the numb fingertips, and the arrow shattered in the air.

Under the cover of the rain of arrows, other shadow warriors rushed up and fought hand-to-hand with the death witches. Iron There was a sharp clash of iron and steel, but the fight lasted only a moment. Lyris leaned down and quickly cut off the legs of her enemies, while Hellebron swung her blade high up and cut off any heads she could reach.

When the battle was over, the place looked more like a slaughterhouse than a town square.

Lyris crouched down and with a flick of her wrist, she severed the heart of one of her victims. She sheathed her other weapon and took the still-warm organ with her free hand. She pursed her lips and lifted the heart high up, squeezing it hard, blood running down her arm and splashing her face.

“Praise Cain!” she screamed.

And just then, there was a faint flicker of movement in the doorway.

A cloaked elf appeared, holding a silver bow. Faster than the naked eye could see, he nocked an arrow and fired, piercing Lyris’ throat and knocking her off her feet onto the slippery stone pavement.

Heliben let out a scream of pure rage and leaped towards the enemy. An arrow whizzed towards her, but she cut it off with a swing of her sword. When another arrow came, she avoided it with a spinning leap, bringing her closer to her enemy.

She swung out her left hand, and the finger blade almost scratched the enemy's face, while her right hand thrust out accurately, stabbing a thin sword into the enemy's ribs, and a spray of blood spurted out from the opponent's right shoulder. Blood gushes from the enemy's mouth, and she draws her sword, spins around, and then cuts off the enemy's head with one sword stroke.

After swiping the blood from the blade, she sheathed the weapon and took the ornate bow from the elf's dead hand. She turned and held the trophy up to Alandrian, who applauded appreciatively.

"I thought it best to give it to Morathi as a gift."

After Alandrian finished speaking, his eyes were attracted by two shadows escaping on the roof.

Ashnir raised his hand, ready to cast another spell, but was stopped by Alandrian.

"Let them go and let them bring the news to others. The Shadow King is dead!"

——

Morathi was half lying and half sitting on the sofa, her rapid breathing echoing in the empty room. The soft cushion could no longer bring any comfort, and blood slowly seeped out from the bandage on the shoulder. Her face was pale and ferocious, but her eyes were burning with blazing anger. Her hands were shaking violently as she pressed the ointment-covered cloth strip to the wound, but she could not hide the anger in her heart.

The scene of Heliben coming with his claws kept reappearing in her mind, haunting her like a nightmare.

"Heliben!"

She suddenly let out a piercing scream and threw the ointment in her hand on the ground. The ointment spread out like her uncontrollable anger. She suddenly grabbed the wine glass on the table and threw it against the wall. The clear and crisp sound of breaking echoed in the empty room for a long time, and the wine and fragments were mixed on the floor.

"Bitch, bitch! Dirty bastard!"

She roared, as if the echoes of Heliben's roar still lingered in the air.

"My face! My pride! How dare you tarnish it? You should have been the one who died in the first place. You should have been torn into pieces alive. You should have been thrown into the fire of Kane and burned! You dare to attack me? You don't count. What a thing! Sooner or later I will let you know what regret is! I will skin you and throw you into the fire of Kane and burn you to ashes!"

She gasped and put her hands on the edge of the table. Her anger was still lingering, and she burst into harsh laughter.

"And you, Alandrian!"

Her words were full of sarcasm and resentment.

"You loser who will only fail! What use are you? Stalker? Wolf hunter? What happened? What did you chase? The King of Shadows was right in front of me, shooting Sulefit! My My pride! You don’t even have the bones to call yourself a hunter! You don’t even deserve to carry your shoes!”

She slammed her fist onto the table, almost cracking it. Her eyes were full of hatred and madness, and her teeth were chattering.

"Aris!"

She screamed, her voice tearing through the silence of the room like a razor blade.

"You think you can win this confrontation by shooting my mount? Do you think you can hide in the shadows forever? I will find you, no matter where you hide! I will skin you and dismantle you Your bones will make you live in pain every second!”

Her breathing became more rapid, and the flames of anger almost burned away her sanity. Then, she slammed her fist against the wall and blood oozed from her knuckles. Her voice suddenly dropped, but it was an even colder anger, as deep as hell. She turned around, her eyes seemed to be able to penetrate time and space, pointing directly at a figure who was far away but did not dare to show up.

"Ashnir!"

She shouted the name angrily, as if the two syllables themselves were some kind of curse.

"It seems that you have always been in love with Aris? You loser! You can't even do a simple detection task! I gave you opportunities, resources, and even my trust, but what about you? You The only thing that brings me is failure!”

She kicked the chair beside her violently, and the harsh impact echoed in the room.

"My enemy is right in front of me, but you can't even catch a shadow! How dare you claim to be the best warlock I have trained? You're just a useless piece of trash!"

She gasped and gritted her teeth, her voice full of ridicule and contempt.

"Do you think you can feel at ease just standing in my shadow? Just because I taught you a few spells, you think you are an omnipotent high-level warlock? You can't even catch the King of Shadows, and you can't even catch the King of Shadows. His breath cannot be detected, are you worthy of my gift?"

Her hands clenched suddenly, her eyes full of hatred.

"From today on, you'd better pray that your incompetence won't hold me back again, otherwise...even those failed soldiers are more valuable than you! Listen, Ashnir, the last of my patience is gone Squandered by you!"

She pressed her hand heavily on the table, her voice as cold as a knife.

"What I want is not an explanation, nor an excuse, nor a reason to fail! Next time, if you dare to live up to my expectations, I will personally teach you what fear is!"

But in her rage, Morathi forgot that Ashnir had died long ago, in the hands of Nagash...

"Darkus...Darkus!! Darkus!!!"

She gritted her teeth and spat out the name, her voice suddenly rising with anger.

"You damn bastard! You little brat, you dare to ambush me, do you think you are sure to win? Do you think you won? No, you just make me hate you more, hate you to the bone! I will make you regret being born in this world!"

Her eyes were red, and the expression on her face was like a madman.

Finally, her anger turned to her son, the one who was once her pride but now made her hate him.

"Malekis!"

She almost roared out the name.

"You unfilial son! You! You actually indulged Daquus, you actually allowed all this to happen! My flesh and blood, my heart and soul! I am your mother, the one who brought you into this world, and you chose to betray me! Use me, play tricks on me? You don't deserve to sit on that high throne! You betrayed your bloodline and betrayed me! You will find that the price of betraying your mother with your own hands is more terrible than death!"

Morath's body trembled, and her face was full of rage and pain. After venting her anger, her voice gradually became lower, and only a faint roar echoed in the empty room, but the blazing fire in her eyes did not go out.

"I will make every one of you pay the price, every one of you!"

She turned around, put her hand on her chest, as if to suppress the anger that almost tore her soul apart, and said in a low voice through gritted teeth.

In a trance, a low and long sound came to her ears, like the low hum of the undercurrent in the deep sea, and like the whisper of the wind blowing through the cold wilderness. The sound entangled her like an invisible silk, smooth but difficult to break free. Her anger did not diminish, and her breathing was still rapid, but this sound was like a subtle force, plucking her heartstrings, pulling her from the edge of rage to a more complex emotion.

The air began to become thick, and the light in the room dimmed inexplicably. The candlelight flickered, and the flame seemed to be caressed by an invisible finger, jumping, but it never went out.

Shadows began to spread from the corners of the wall, climbing up like living things, gathering into looming figures. A soft but strange fragrance spread, sweet and intoxicating, with some kind of irresistible attraction, drilling into Moras's nostrils, rushing straight into her mind, eroding her reason.

Her hand slipped from the table and supported the edge of the sofa, trying to stabilize her rapid breathing. Her heartbeat became strange, not a furious restlessness, but a deep rhythm, and every beat seemed to echo the gradually increasing whispers in the room. The sound was like an invisible music, and every note struck deep in her heart, causing her anger to be gradually replaced by a more complex and deeper desire.

The shadows on the wall gradually condensed, vaguely turning into soft and twisted shapes. Those shadows seemed to be dancing, and every inch of the line was deliberately outlining the limit of human desire. It was an outline that could not be described in words, like a real person, but also like an illusion, with infinite attraction, but also difficult to look directly at. They spoke silently, without words, but the air was filled with suggestive hums, as if telling the secret of bliss and depravity.

Morathi's eyes began to blur, the flames of anger were devoured, and only some unspeakable desires were burning in her eyes. Her thoughts became blurred, and everything around her seemed to be shrouded in mist.

Her hand was slightly raised, as if she wanted to touch the twisting shadows, but she froze at the moment of touching, hesitating, but unable to really withdraw... (End of this chapter)