Just being a dark elf in Warhammer

Aris stood in the shadows, watching the scene in front of him coldly. The lives of the two sea guards ended quickly, and their blood splashed on the cold ground, but he was not moved at all.

In his eyes, Isharion was just a traitor, an Asur who betrayed his ideals and glory and embraced Duruchi. In his cognition, apart from him and his shadow warriors, there should be no Asur standing on the land of Naggaroth in this way. His fingers gently touched the bowstring of the Moon Bow, cold and tense, just like his attitude towards Isharion.

But at the moment when Isharion wielded the fang sword and rushed towards the Chaos Warrior, his thoughts were shaken.

The brave steps and the unhesitating sprint reminded him of the past, when he was young. At that time, he was not as brave and fearless as Isharion. He knew he could not win, but he still launched a fearless charge, but this did not prevent him from finding some commonality between him and Isharion.

The Chaos Warrior fell down with a bang. A dazed Eltharion stood not far from the corpse, panting. He turned around and locked his eyes with Aris who appeared from the darkness. He thought he should be nervous when he saw Aris again, because his current identity was not so glorious, but he was not. At this moment, his eyes did not dodge, nor did he confess or feel guilty. There was only an elusive calmness.

"Do you remember where we first met, Eltharion? The Phoenix Court of Lothern, such a glorious place. And you... have become like this now!"

Aris stepped out of the shadows, the moonlight sprinkled on his shoulders, and his face was carved by the fire as sharp as a blade. He stared at Eltharion and said in a cold voice.

"You are not qualified to judge me, the Shadow King of Nagaryth. You know, everything I do has its reasons! I am here for a reason!" Eltharion did not avoid Aris's gaze. He raised his chin, suppressed his breath, and answered calmly.

"Reason? Reason? Abandon your kingdom and compatriots, just for a reason? A reason? I think you are just making excuses for yourself." Aris snorted softly, with undisguised sarcasm in his tone.

"Then can you explain why you are standing here?" Isharion fought back without hesitation.

The tense atmosphere in the air seemed to freeze for a moment, but Aris did not respond to Isharion's provocation. He just continued to look at Isharion with his cold eyes. That calm silence made Isharion feel a little uneasy.

At this moment, the earth suddenly trembled, a low vibration came from a distance, and the ice and snow on the ground began to tremble slightly.

"What sound?" Isharion, who was originally confronting, clenched the fang sword in his hand and looked around vigilantly.

Ares's eyes also turned to the distance. He was used to the night and saw a huge snowman in the darkness not far away? Breaking through the fence and roaring towards them, the huge figure and strong sense of oppression made the air thin in an instant.

"This is... a good prey for you." Aris glanced at Isharion lightly, with a scornful smile on his lips.

Isharion glanced at Aris and said nothing. There was a flash of disdain in his eyes, but more of a silent determination. He raised the fang sword and walked towards the snowman with a staggering step.

"Don't let me down." Aris stood there, holding the Moon Bow, his hands crossed on his chest, staring coldly at Isharion's back, whispering mockery, without any intention of helping.

This is a huge white figure, covered with thick fur, with sharp claws and fangs flashing coldly. With a roar that shook the earth, the furry beast pounced on Isharion, and the open claws were full of deadly determination, as if to completely tear the life in front of him from flesh and blood to soul.

When the monster emerged from the darkness, Isharion raised his eyebrows. He had never seen such a strange creature, a snowman that was nearly two and a half meters tall? A... He didn't have time to think about it. He could feel the rapid approach of the monster exuding amazing power, and the speed of the sprint was comparable to that of an elven warhorse running at full speed.

A cold light flashed in his eyes, and he turned his body to avoid the monster's claws. At the moment when his body completed the rotation, the fang sword accurately pierced the monster's body. With the help of the monster's own impact force, he firmly pierced the monster on the blade.

It turned out that this blow was fatal.

The face of the monster, which looked like a giant monkey, was distorted by severe pain, and its amber eyes were bulging, revealing unwillingness and pain.

The monster tried to break free, but Isharion didn't give it a chance. Isharion grabbed its fluffy white fur with one hand and fixed it firmly on the blood-stained blade.

Its screams cut through the night sky, shaking the snowflakes around.

It swung its sharp claws violently, trying to tear through Eltharion's defenses. The heavy attack tore Eltharion's robe to pieces, but it was in vain, leaving only a few shallow scratches on Eltharion's armor.

Blood gushed from the monster's jaws, staining its fur red. It leaned down and tried frantically to bite Eltharion's sneering face.

However, Eltharion twisted his body and lightly dodged the desperate attack, while cutting down with the fang sword and then ripping it out of the monster's body. The monster roared in pain, and its huge body rolled on the snow, and the spilled internal organs dyed the cold ground red.

Angry roars resounded from the night covered by snow and fire. The sound seemed to condense the coldness of winter and savage hatred. It was like the low roar of winter itself, shaking through the wild. It is pure anger, without any rationality, and only carries the most primitive desire to kill. That low roar was like a cold promise, indicating the coming of pain and terror, as if warning the prey that death would not be a clean relief, but a bloody nightmare.

Eltharion's response was swift and decisive.

He raised the fang sword coldly, and while the monster was breathing, he thrust the blade into the monster's head without hesitation. The sharp blade penetrated the bones, and the monster let out a last painful roar. The huge body gradually fell down in violent convulsions, and finally lay motionless on the snow.

The subtle sound of blood dripping from the sword blade on the snow seemed to be the finale of this short but tragic battle.

But the noisy surroundings did not regain silence... It was like beating the small ones to bring out the big ones, and beating the big ones to bring out the old ones.

The monster Eltharion killed was Yeti, which is found on the highest slopes of many mountains, especially on the peaks of the Mourn Mountains and the ancient giant fortress where they were born.

Although steely claws are the only weapon they need, some ogre-like behavior passed down from Yeti's ancestors has taught them how to use a club: simply break a branch from a tree , and then exhale the icy cold air towards it, you can create an ice-cold stick.

It's not uncommon for Yeti to mingle among ogre tribes, though it's anyone's guess how or why these creatures are willing to fight alongside ogres out of a sense of kinship? Or owed a huge debt in the distant past? No matter what, when the ogre calls them, they always answer the call.

It's just that Elsharion and Aris, who met Yeti for the first time, didn't know this. Even if they knew it, they didn't care. In this chaotic night, anyone who is not an elf is an enemy, regardless of whether it's Norsca or Hungarian. Humans, Kurgans, ogres, or other strange things, even elves, it is not surprising that black people eat black people...

As for why Yeti appeared in the land of Nagaros, it is not surprising at all. Part of Yeti itself exists on the peaks of the Iron Mountains near the Chaos Wasteland.

This world is located on a planet. What is the fastest way to circle the planet? Anyone who has studied geography knows that it is to circle around the North Pole and South Pole. Of course, the North Pole and South Pole of this world are composed of It's made up of other things. The Eastern Grassland is the highway of this world, and the Chaos Wasteland located to the north of the Eastern Grassland is the highway among highways.

A Kurgan tribe that was still wandering under the Great Wall of Cathay in January may appear outside the northern stronghold of Naggaroth ten months later.

(This picture: The white part is the land, Nagaros is in the west, and Cathay is in the east)

Facing the huge monster rushing towards him, Eltharion steadied his body, the fear tumbling in his heart suppressed by a cold sense of fate. This is a kind of courage between life and death. Although it is immature, it is firm. At this moment, he had no retreat, only victory or destruction.

As the monster closed in on Eltharion, it hesitated. It is a huge snowman, more than twice as tall as its kind. Its thick old hair has turned into a dull silvery gray, as if it was covered with a layer of cold armor. The claws were wrapped in ice and were as sharp as daggers, and the tusks protruded from the jaws like ivory. Its amber eyes sparkled with a kind of wisdom and reason, wondering why the small and thin creature in front of it dared to stand so fearlessly in front of it.

Eltharion raised his head and looked directly into the eyes of the gray-backed snowman. He roared a strange and wild cry, which seemed to be some kind of imitation and also a kind of provocation.

Maybe it's because the sound he makes has a strange rhythm, or maybe it's because the content is so vulgar...

The animalistic nature of the gray-backed snowman instantly overcame its reason. It let out a deafening scream and rushed towards Eltharion, its huge claws sweeping down with frosty murderous intent.

Eltharion did not think that his armor could withstand the terrifying attack of the gray-backed snowman. He did not choose to meet the monster's attack head-on. Instead, he pounced forward, rolled under the snowman's strong arm, and quickly swung the fang sword in his hand. , across the thick belly of the monster.

The gray-backed snowman roared in pain and kicked Eltharion's chest with its powerful feet, sending Eltharion flying and flying through the air like a boulder thrown from a trebuchet.

Elsharion's body flew upside down and crashed into the wooden barrels piled in the distance, and the frozen barrel walls fell apart instantly. Lying on the ground, he scratched desperately in the snow, touched the rolling barrel, and tried to find a point of support to stand up. However, the severe pain and loss of strength made him fail many times, and he could not stand up successfully no matter how hard he tried.

Despite this, he never cast a look at Aris for help, or even looked in the direction of Aris. He gritted his teeth and roared, trying with all his strength to get up.

At this moment, a frost-covered claw grasped his chest like an iron pincer. The cold power seeped into his blood vessels through the armor. He could feel that his blood seemed to be frozen into mud, and his breath was blocked in his lungs by the cold.

He was lifted up from the ground by the Yeti, and the grip of the claws was like a death sentence. The gray-backed Yeti looked down at him, and pressed the other claw tightly on the wound on his abdomen, trying to stop the black blood from flowing out. A hint of human smile appeared on the monster's hideous monkey face, and that smug expression made him furious.

The flames of anger melted the ice in Isharion's blood vessels. He roared, broke free from the painful shackles, and swung the fang sword with all his strength, regardless of the severe pain of the armor cutting his flesh. The sharp blade accurately chopped the gray-backed Yeti's wrist, blood gushed out, and the Yeti let out a piercing scream and had to let go of the claws holding him.

As the Yeti let go, Isharion fell heavily to the snow, his chest heaving violently, but his eyes were firm, as if to declare that the battle was not over yet. He staggered to his feet, ready to deal with the monster's next attack.

The gray-backed snowman staggered back, holding his injured wrist, but his roar was full of anger and desire for revenge.

Just as the snowman pounced again, the fang sword in Eltharion's hand met the monster's claws. The collision of steel and ice produced dazzling sparks, and the impact shook his arms, but he held the hilt tightly and did not retreat at all.

The gray-backed snowman took a step back suddenly, its amber eyes flashing with pain and anger, the air was filled with blood and murderous intent, and the battle on the snow had not stopped.

Eltharion stared at his opponent with cold eyes. With the help of the firelight, he could see clearly that the wound he left in the monster's abdomen was not deep, although the blood was still flowing. What really hurt the monster was the blow he cut into its wrist. The monster's claws were only connected by a few tendons, and it seemed that every time it moved, the claws would fall off.

Half-kneeling on the ground, he brandished his fang sword and challenged the gray-backed snowman.

The enraged monster let out an angry roar, slapped his broad chest with his intact claws, and then lowered his body and rushed towards the elf. The snow was plowed by its strong lower limbs, setting off a white wave.

However, this time, the gray-backed snowman proved that it was not only the embodiment of brute force, but also full of wisdom. When it was only a few steps away from Eltharion, it suddenly stopped charging and dug up a piece of snow with its huge paws.

In Eltharion's incredulous eyes, the monster kicked at the snow pile, and then a piece of white snow splashed on his face, covering his vision!

Instinct made Eltharion, who wanted to curse a second ago, choose to jump to the side in the next second, instead of trying to wipe the snow from his eyes like others might do. He dodged himself from the monster's charging path and fell to the snow.

But even so, the gray-backed snowman's icy claws still passed by his side and hooked the heavy cloak he was wearing. The cold and sharp claws tore the cloak like cutting cheese, and the cloth strips shattered and fluttered like flags as the monster moved.

Eltharion climbed up from the snow, and the fragments of the cloak slipped from his shoulders. His heart was pounding, but his eyes became sharp again. He blocked another piece of flying snow, avoiding the monster's claws that chopped at his head, then lowered his body and rolled to the side of the monster. He slashed with all his strength, and the sharp blade of the fang sword slashed across the snowman's ankle, accurately cutting off one of the monster's feet from the calf.

The gray-backed snowman let out a piercing scream, and his huge body fell to the snow, and a huge amount of blood gushed out, quickly dyeing the surrounding white snow red.

Eltharion did not give the monster any chance to breathe. He roared and leaped onto the fallen snowman, stepped firmly on the monster's struggling shoulders with his feet, raised the fang sword with both hands, gritted his teeth and pierced the blade through the snowman's horned head. The long sword tore through the flesh and penetrated the bones, nailing the head of the giant beast firmly into the snow.

The gray-backed snowman let out a last low roar like a wail, twisting and trying to throw the elf off. Its body struggled in vain on the snow for a few times, and finally collapsed powerlessly, losing its last chance of life.

Eltharion slowly pulled out the bloody fang sword, and bright red blood dripped from the blade onto the snow. He stepped on the monster's bloody corpse with one foot, raised the weapon high, and roared at the night sky. The wild roar echoed in the noisy night, as if announcing the arrival of victory. (End of this chapter)