Just being a dark elf in Warhammer

Agatagu and Acregon, the brothers, were like dancers woven with flames, showing a near-perfect coordination. They rolled and glided at low altitude, like twin falcons in the sky. Without any words, they could accurately complete each attack with their tacit understanding. Flames burst from their throats, like a long burning river, washing the chaotic waves on the ground.

Agatagu swooped down, his dragon breath gushing out, covering an entire area of ​​the Yankee warband trying to escape. The blazing dragon breath burned the heavy wooden shields and iron armor, and the warriors behind the shields turned into shadows in the sea of ​​fire. At the same time, Acregon followed closely, his flames showing a dazzling orange-red color, burning along the flanks of the warband, engulfing the enemies who had escaped Agatagu's attack line one by one.

The two brothers rolled and tumbled at low altitude, killing mercilessly, and every time they passed, they left a scorched earth and tragic wails on the ground. Sometimes they attacked each other from the left and right, and sometimes they attacked each other from the front and back, sweeping away the remaining enemies with their tails and claws. Whenever Agatagu's flames burned the enemy in front to ashes, Akregon followed closely behind, crushing those who tried to dodge into mud.

On the other side, Skulex was even more terrifying. Compared with the concerted dance of the two brothers, his attack was more direct and violent. He hovered in the air, his shadow covering the huge giants on the ground, and his eyes, shining like lava, swept across the enemy formation, looking for a target. When he locked onto a giant, he let out a low roar and then swooped down.

The hot dragon breath shot out like a flaming spear, hitting a giant's chest fiercely. The giant's flesh exploded in the high temperature, and the huge body fell to the ground with a bang, crushing several unfortunate companions behind him. The surrounding Yankees fled in all directions, but he ignored these minions. His target was those huge, ugly monsters. This was the mission he received before the attack.

A giant roared and waved a huge wooden stick in his hand, trying to knock him down from the air. The stick whistled and chopped at him, but he was not afraid. He flapped his wings to meet the challenge and greeted the huge wooden stick with his sharp claws.

With a violent collision, the wooden stick instantly broke into countless pieces under the grasp of the claws, and was crushed into dust like dead grass.

Skulex did not stop. His claws swung down like lightning, directly disemboweling the giant's abdomen, and blood and internal organs poured down, dyeing the earth red. Then, he bit the giant's neck, and the huge force broke the giant's cervical vertebrae, and blood gushed out of the cracked wound like a fountain.

After completing this attack, Skulex did not stop for a moment to appreciate his "work". He began to run on the ground. His huge body was like a moving mountain, crushing all the enemies around him who dared to approach. His claws and tail swept the surroundings mercilessly, crushing the Yankees and beastmen on the ground into meat patties.

In the distance, another giant roared and rushed towards him, holding the wooden stick high in his hand, trying to suppress this extremely ferocious red dragon with brute force.

Skulex sneered, turned around suddenly, and hit the giant's waist with his tail like an iron whip. After a dull thud, the giant bent down in pain, and his fragile lumbar vertebrae were shattered by the tail whip, and then he fell to the ground powerlessly.

He had no mercy on these ugly creatures. He was too familiar with the weaknesses of these Chaos Giants. He had lived in Norsca for many years and was already familiar with dealing with these clumsy behemoths. He pounced on the fallen giant, and his claws easily tore the opponent's throat, ending the giant's life.

The killing continued, and the embers of the fire had not yet completely extinguished. The hot scorched earth on the ground seemed to whisper the destruction brought by the red dragons.

The performance of these six red dragons fully interpreted Caledor's proverb: The dragon itself is an army!

Ashdaron and Caledel did not engage in subsequent attacks. After completing the initial devastating blow, the two followed Daquus's order, spread their wings, and turned to the west. The two dragons glided gracefully in the night sky, and their huge figures looked mysterious and majestic in the moonlight. They adjusted their flight path and finally appeared precisely above the charge of the Druki cavalry.

On the ground, the Druki cavalry and chariots were launching a thunderous charge. The cold lizard knights rode their sturdy mounts, and the cold armor shone coldly under the reflection of the fire and moonlight. The sharp spears in their hands were like the extension of death.

Hundreds of cold lizard cavalry formed a wave of steel, roaring forward. The chariots roared and kicked up snow and mud, the wheels made a sharp friction sound that made people's teeth ache, and the blades on the chariots tore through the air at full speed, like the scythe of the god of death. And behind this frenzy of steel and flesh, the infantry phalanx that followed steadily advanced in a denser formation, cooperating with the charging force in front, and built a torrent of destruction.

Ashdaron and Kaledel hovered above the soldiers' heads, and when their huge wings flapped, they raised gusts of air. The cold lizard knights and charioteers were all attracted by the two figures in the sky. Those infantrymen who were marching looked up at the sky, with awe and excitement in their eyes. They knew that the existence of the dragon was not only a symbol of power, but also a guarantee of victory in this war.

Drakka, riding on the saddle of the cold dragon, also looked up and watched the scene. There was a trace of envy in his expression, and he secretly admired the power of the dragon. In his vision, the killing in the distance continued, and the flames and screams seemed to be the war songs written by the red dragons. His cold dragon was galloping, his hands were tightly holding the reins, but his thoughts had already flown far away.

"Compared to the black dragon... the red dragon is more powerful and more deterrent."

He weighed it silently in his heart, and a glimmer of hope appeared in his eyes. Dakwus was famous for his generosity, and he considered himself a friend of Dakwus. If he performed well, maybe... he could also get a red dragon? Just like the Witch King and Malok, this thought made his heart surge, and the determination in his eyes became more firm.

Suddenly, a deafening roar came from the cold dragon cavalry. It was the voice of the big guy.

Selire, riding on the back of the big guy, was a little scared. He could feel that the big guy was very angry at this time, with bulging muscles and fierce eyes. He wanted to raise his hand to comfort the big guy, but the thought only stayed in his mind for a moment and then suddenly disappeared.

The big guy's eyes were fixed on Daquus, who was at the head of Ashdaron, and anger almost burst out of his eyes. His roar echoed on the battlefield like thunder, causing all the cold lizards to pause for a moment.

Then, his roar resonated with the cold lizard group, and all the cold lizards roared in unison, and the battlefield was suddenly filled with thunderous roars. Then the cold lizards began to speed up, and their steps became more rapid, as if driven by some invisible force, as if chasing a dragon in the sky.

Daquus stood on top of Ashdaron, and his expression became a little embarrassed when he knew how dirty the big guy's scolding was. He twitched his nose and forced a silent smile at the corner of his mouth.

Unlike the Battle of Altdorf, the big guy at this time became the big core of the cold lizard cavalry, and he wore a magic ornament around his neck. The ornament would not enhance his strength and speed, but it could make his voice spread to a larger atmosphere, just like when Dacus gave a speech above the Nagarond camp, it was extremely penetrating.

Under the command of the big guy, the cold lizard cavalry group that could only be put into use once became more terrifying. Later, Dacus was also going to give him glasses with guidance functions, and through the floating assault ship, he would show him the overall vision, just like the artillery observation balloon.

But Dacus thought it was not very reliable, because of the chain of command and the IQ of the cold lizards, which was more difficult than airdropping a hand order and moving the machine gun position 5 meters to the left.

How to convey and receive instructions is a big problem, but fortunately there is a lot of time for experiments... and this matter is not his responsibility.

"Although I don't understand what he is saying, I can feel that he is very angry." Ashdaron's low voice sounded in Dacus's ears.

"Haha... Don't worry about him, he'll be fine in a while." Hearing this, Dacus's expression became even more embarrassed. He patted Ashdaron's head and then laughed dryly twice.

Just before the cavalry was about to collide with the enemy, Ashdaron and Callerdale completed the adjustment, and under the command of Dacus, the two began to dive. The hot dragon breath gushed out from their open mouths, and the flames swept down like a destructive storm.

The cavalry who witnessed this scene almost forgot to breathe. What they saw was a magnificent scene that could not be described in words. The dragon breath of the two dragons was like a red and blue torrent, tearing the darkness apart and turning the enemy's formation into an abyss of flames. The enemy's hastily prepared front collapsed under this blow. The Yankees screamed in despair and tried to dodge, but the flames ruthlessly devoured everything, leaving only charred debris and spreading gunpowder smoke.

Ashdaron's flames spewed out, burning a whole row of enemies who were holding shields and trying to form a defensive line into ashes. Ledael's green flames caused a violent explosion in the enemy formation, crushing the enemies who tried to organize an attack.

Soon, the cavalrymen had no time to be shocked. Their mission was not yet completed. The dragon only opened a breakthrough, and they had to tear this breakthrough deeper. They all lowered their heads, laid down their spears and lances, and pointed the steel tips at the enemies in front.

Every knight knew that the moment of charge was the most dangerous and glorious moment. They must tear the enemy formation with the force of thunder and let the enemy's blood soak the land.

"For the Witch King!"

"For Naggaroth!"

"For the Hand of the Witch King!"

Shouts of killing rang out, and the iron hooves of the cold lizards thundered on the ground. The knights' spears collided with the remaining enemies, making a harsh metal collision and a creepy bone cracking sound.

Draka was in the center of the charge. Amid the roar of the big guy, his cold lizard rushed forward like a black lightning. The Yankee in front of him had not yet recovered from the horror of the dragon's breath, and was pierced through the back by the spear in his hand. He turned the spear expressionlessly, picked it up, and threw the enemy's body away, then drew his weapon and continued to charge.

The cold lizard's sharp teeth bit the enemy, crushing the Yankee who tried to resist into meat paste. The knights in the back row either swung leaf hammers or swung swords to chop down the enemies who were still standing. The chariot followed, and the blades on the wheels cut the fallen enemies into bloody fragments.

The battlefield became a one-sided massacre, with no so-called honor at all.

The dragon hovered in the air, the cavalry's iron hooves trampled the ground, and the chariot's blades rotated and tore through the blockers. Destruction and killing filled the land. The Yankee's front had completely collapsed. Only a few enemies were still resisting stubbornly, but this was not enough to stop this torrent-like offensive.

——

The cloak fluttered on Koran's back, and the weapon in his hand spun flexibly like a living thing. The magic spear and the halberd collided, and the cold light aroused was so fast that it was difficult to capture. His speed matched the bloody queen's rage. The battle between the two sides formed a vortex of death. Anyone who tried to get close would be crushed, beheaded, or waved away.

Watching this scene, Kerillian turned her eyes to look at Eltharion. She was originally preparing to say something witty, but after seeing Eltharion's expression, she shook her head and then looked at the championship duel.

Kerillian's gaze, which Eltharion did not see, turned his eyes to the dazzling display of skills and violence. Valkia's presence aroused his desire to kill, forcing him to suppress his violent impulse with all his strength. His reason told him that he had to restrain himself, and this restraint almost exhausted all his willpower.

The sound of the weapon's collision pulled him back to reality from his inner struggle. He saw the tip of Valkia's magic spear piercing Kolan, and its tip flashed coldly under the light of the fire. He wondered if the magic spear was coated with poison. When the tip of the spear passed, a stream of blood splashed on the captain's breastplate. The magic spear secreted sticky pus, as if it was the blood of the life it had stabbed.

He put himself in Kolan's shoes, calmly analyzing Valkia's weaknesses and looking for its flaws, even though he didn't know who this terrifying creature was. In his cognition, the captain of the Black Guard was opposed to him, but to be the captain of the Black Guard, he was undoubtedly a battle-hardened warrior. He believed that Koran would find a way to win. After all, this was not a civil war between the elves, but a duel between the elves and chaos. Emotionally, he hoped that the captain of the Black Guard could defeat the monster.

He could smell the breath coming from the demon with his nose twitching. A complex smell filled the air, the smell of blood splattering mixed with the fragrance of decaying roses, sweet but suffocating, mixed with the bitterness of corruption.

At this moment, his eyes were drawn to the demon head on Valkia's shield. What made him horrified was that the ugly eyes turned to him and stared at him straight. The corners of the mouth full of needle-like fangs slowly rose, and the forked tongue licked the snake-like lip line.

"Come closer, child."

A whispered hissing sounded in the depths of Isharion's mind. He shook his head and blinked hard, trying to get rid of the feeling that made his bile rise to his throat. He saw the demon's eyes close for a moment and then suddenly open. The originally dark irises turned into a fiery blood-red ball of light. The burning gaze that pierced the soul made him irresistibly attracted.

"Come closer. Isn't she great? Isn't she glorious? Come, child. Accept the embrace of the Bride of Khaine and bathe in her glory. When you can no longer bear her majesty, draw your sword and pierce it into her chest. Kill the Blood Queen Valkia right here. If you do it, my god will give you endless rewards."

The words of the demon shield were like the whisper of a venomous snake, full of temptation. For a moment, Isharion almost believed that this was indeed possible. But it was only a short moment, and soon, a thought emerged in his mind: Why did this demon choose to whisper to him? Why not others? Or was it not just him who was tempted?

After contacting Daquus, he learned the truth of self-knowledge, and this sentence was deeply embedded in his heart like a brand. He didn't think he was a strong enough warrior to kill the existence in front of him.

Maybe he can do it in the future? But definitely not now. Not long ago, he almost died under the sword of that Chaos Warrior. In his cognition, that Chaos Warrior was completely not at the same level as the one in front of him. Because he knew his own abilities, he was more convinced that he could not accomplish such an absurd thing.

The world around him seemed to become blurred, turning into a chaotic sound and color. He could feel the voice of the devil trying to invade his consciousness, and the low, seemingly infinitely tempting voice echoed in his mind.

"You can do it."

"Believe in yourself."

"You can do it."

The blood-red eyes stared at him, engraving an absurd belief deeply into the depths of his consciousness. He suddenly laughed, and his laughter was not joyful, but a kind of indifferent mockery. He looked down at his hands, slowly clenched them, and then raised his eyes and looked directly at the demon shield without fear.

"Is this... the devil's trick?"

His voice was low and firm. A cold arc appeared at the corner of his mouth, which was contempt for temptation. He stood there, motionless, without any sign of being guided or shaken.

"Go and seduce others, devil!"

He whispered, with sarcasm and disdain in his words. He chose to reject this "gift" full of lies with his own beliefs. His heart was still beating, but his soul seemed to be burning with a cold flame, isolating the devil's whispers.

He understood that all this was just a temptation, a ridiculous trick, and he refused to give up his will.

Not far away, the championship duel continued.

After dodging a magic spear attack, Kolan quickly turned around and used the kinetic energy of this action to swing a left hook, hitting the demon's right face firmly with a crisp impact.

Valkia's head was hit sideways, but she turned with the momentum, and the end of the magic spear hit Kolan's helmet hard, knocking the helmet off Kolan's head. Then her wings flapped slowly, hovering in the air, unreachable.

"You fought well." Her cold and beautiful face showed an evil smile.

"Come back and fight me!" Kolan roared.

With a creepy laugh, Valkia swooped down from the sky like a meteorite, so fast that even the air around her made a sharp whistle. Her magic spear pointed directly at Kolan's chest, and the tip of the spear glowed with a strange blood-red light, like a hungry beast, eager to tear apart all prey in front of it.

Koulan took a deep breath, stood firmly on his feet, and held his halberd tightly with both hands. He knew that escaping was meaningless and he had to confront head-on. He shifted his body weight slightly backward, his muscles tensed like a bowstring, and aimed at the direction where Valkia was about to attack.

A loud bang!

The magic spear and the halberd collided fiercely, splashing a sharp metallic roar.

The huge impact almost made Koulan's arms numb. He felt his chest was dull and his palms were stinging due to friction. However, his footsteps did not move at all. He gritted his teeth and blocked the attack.

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Valkia's attack did not stop because of this. Her body was as flexible as a snake. She rotated to the side along the impact force. The magic spear quickly changed from the tip of the gun to the tail of the gun, and the end swept towards Koulan's head. Koulan subconsciously used his halberd to block, but was not completely successful. The end of the magic spear hit his shoulder hard, causing his body to pause due to the impact. A long crack was immediately torn in his shoulder armor, and blood gushed out.

"Ridiculous mortal, struggle!" Valkia sneered, flapping her wings and accelerating again.

Koulan roared and forced himself to stabilize his body. He turned his body and took advantage of the gap left by the magic spear to sweep the halberd out, pointing directly at Valkia's flank.

This attack was extremely fierce, with a roar of anger.

Valkia seemed to have expected it. She flapped her wings and slid to the side gracefully. The air was stirred, leaving a hot airflow.

The two fought closely, and the confrontation became more and more intense.

Every attack of Valkia was like a venomous snake, swift and accurate, directly hitting Koulan's fatal point. The magic spear cut through the air, making a low whimpering sound.

Kolan's halberd was like a storm, and every strike was made with all her might, trying to tear through Valkia's defenses. The two of them wandered on the battlefield like dancers, and every confrontation caused sparks of metal collision.

Valkia spun quickly, stabbing Kolan's abdomen with the tip of the spear at a tricky angle. Kolan took a step back and blocked the attack with the halberd. Before Kolan could catch his breath, she was close and hit Kolan's knee with the end of the magic spear, trying to make Kolan lose balance. Kolan jumped suddenly to avoid the attack, and at the same time smashed the halberd to the ground, trying to use the snow to block Valkia's sight.

Opportunity!

Kolan took advantage of this momentary gap, grasped the halberd tightly, and swung it quickly.

Valkia's sight was blocked by the snow, and she was a little slow to dodge. The end of the gun was hit by the halberd, making a sharp metal friction sound, and her body was slightly tilted.

Kolan quickly adjusted his posture and swung his halberd from bottom to top. The blade brushed against Valkia's plastron, leaving a deep crack, and black-red blood slowly seeped out.

Valkia looked down, and a bloodthirsty smile appeared on the corner of her mouth. This attack made her even more excited.

"Not bad, mortal, but far from enough!"

Before she finished speaking, she turned around quickly, and the spikes at the tail of the magic spear swept towards Kolan's waist like a giant python. Kolan immediately blocked with his halberd, but was still knocked back a few steps. The snow under his feet made a cracking sound, leaving a deep dent.

Kolan shook to stabilize his body, but Valkia did not give him a chance to breathe. The magic spear stabbed continuously like a venomous snake, and each blow was fatally accurate and powerful, forcing him to retreat step by step. His armor had been cut into several cracks, and blood was seeping out, but he could only grit his teeth to support and look for a glimmer of hope.

Valkia's attack was like a storm, her movements were as swift as the wind, and every attack was accompanied by an unstoppable pressure. Suddenly, the tail of the magic spear hit Kolan's calf, causing Kolan to lose balance and fall heavily to the ground. She flapped her wings, jumped high, and stabbed down with the magic spear in her hand.

Kolan rolled to the side at the critical moment, avoiding the fatal blow. The magic spear pierced the ground, cracking the earth and splashing gravel. He took the opportunity to swing the halberd, and the blade stabbed Valkia's leg.

The Blood Queen took a step back lightly, flapping her wings to take herself away from danger, as if this attack was just a taste for her.

Valkia circled in the air, adjusted the angle and dived again. She was as fast as lightning, and the magic spear drew a scarlet track in the night, approaching Kolan's head.

Kolan roared and swung his halberd to meet the attack. The weapons of both sides collided violently, and a deafening roar broke out.

Valkia used the power of flapping wings to directly push Kolan back several meters.

Kolan's body hit a black guard, groaning, and blood flowed from the corner of his mouth. His vision was blurred, but he still managed to stand up.

Valkia slowly rose into the air, her wings spread out in the moonlight, like a goddess from the abyss, looking down at mortals indifferently. The magic spear in her hand drooped slightly, as if she was no longer interested in the prey in front of her.

However, the pair of eyes burning with blood-red light always locked on Kolan, examining Kolan's every move. She was used to the evil magic woven into the opponent's armor and the pain that followed after hitting the armor. As the partner of the god of war, her immortal body was far more resilient than the flesh and blood of her opponent.

To her, the enemy in front of her was just a prey that would fight back, and she liked such prey.

Kolan endured the severe pain in his body and stood up with difficulty. He felt his whole body protesting, and the pain of the wound burned his will like a flame. However, he did not retreat. He held the halberd tightly and stood firmly. At this moment, he was like a wall standing in Naggaroth, standing firm. He took a deep breath, dispelled the inner hesitation, and prepared to face the battle in front of him that was almost impossible to win.

Valkia dived again, the magic spear stabbing like lightning.

Kolan used his agility to deflect the fatal blow. He spun around and tried to trip Valkia with a swift kick. Valkia leaped lightly, flapping her wings like a ghost in the dark night, and the magic spear in her hand slashed down from above again, with the force of thunder.

Kolan quickly raised his halberd to meet the attack, and the halberd blade collided with the magic spear, bursting out with a deafening metallic roar. Sparks flew, and blood oozed from the end of Valkia's magic spear, falling to the ground with a hissing corrosion sound. The power of this blow made his arms numb, but he gritted his teeth and did not let go.

"You are already good, mortal." Valkia sneered, her voice like a cold blade slicing through Kolan's soul.

Kolan could feel the pressure in Valkia's eyes, as if the existence of this monster itself was a test of his will. He felt his will wavering for a moment, and there seemed to be a voice whispering deep in his heart, tempting him to succumb to the invincible existence in front of him.

"No!"

He roared, his will was as strong as iron, fighting back the whisper that penetrated into his heart. Naggaroth must stand firm, a new era has begun, his story has just begun, and he wants to write his story!

His mind quickly calmed down, forcing himself to move away from Valkia's burning gaze. He suddenly lowered his body and stepped back, temporarily widening the distance between the two.

"Run!"

At this moment, a low, majestic and anxious voice penetrated the depths of the soul. This voice was like an order, strong and irresistible.

Valkia's magic gun stopped in mid-air, and her movement paused slightly. She squinted slightly, and the next second, she realized the source of the voice. The sneer on her face disappeared, and then she let out a frustrated neigh, spread her wings, and flapped the rising air in the night sky, trying to use an updraft to take herself up to the sky, so that she would gradually disappear in the night sky where moonlight and war intertwined.

"Is this... trying to run?"

After muttering, Kerillian spread her legs steadily, half-knelt on her right leg, stepped forward with her right leg, and steadily supported her body. She took out the burning spark arrow from the quiver, put it on the longbow, took a deep breath, held her breath and aimed. The fully drawn bowstring trembled slightly, and her fingertips loosened, and the arrow streaked through the night sky like a meteor, rushing straight towards Valkia's figure.

After this arrow was shot, she did not pause, and took out three spark arrows in a smooth and flowing manner, put on the bowstring at the same time, aimed briefly, and then shot continuously, and the arrows chased like meteors, streaking through the sky above the battlefield.

At the same time, the elves around them also started together as if they were summoned by a signal. Countless arrows and crossbow bolts rose from all directions, covering Valkia's figure like a huge net of death.

Valkia let out a deafening roar, and swung the magic spear in her hand like a gust of wind, shooting down the oncoming arrows one by one. With each collision, dazzling sparks rubbed between the spear blade and the arrow head, shattering the surrounding air. Her movements were as fast as thunder, and her wings flapped violently, raising a violent airflow, which deflected some of the flying arrows.

Despite this, it was difficult to completely resist the attacks from all directions. Several arrows broke through her defense line, and one of the spark arrows passed from the flank, brushed past her shoulder armor, and left a burning mark on her armor. Another spark arrow hit the place where her back and wings were connected, and the severe pain instantly made her body suddenly pause.

Her screams turned from anger to pain, and then mixed with unwillingness and hatred.

She struggled in the air, flapping her wings to try to stabilize her body, but her injured wings could not fully unfold. Blood flowed from her back like a river, which was extremely dazzling in the moonlight.

She turned over suddenly and drew a fiery arc with her magic spear, partially dispersing the rain of arrows. Even so, the continuous attacks made her movements slow. She tried to rise again, trying to escape from this deadly area, but there were still several arrows and crossbows in the sky, suppressing her in mid-air.

Her eyes burned with scarlet anger, and a sharp roar came out of her mouth again. Even though she was covered with scars, her figure still exuded majesty and fear that could not be ignored, like an enraged predator, struggling unwillingly, but still daunting.

But the moment she turned around, she saw a huge figure in the sky swooping down towards her. Her eyes widened, and the momentum she had before suddenly disappeared from her.

At this moment, she seemed to know something. (End of this chapter)