Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

Beigang is a regional name, like referring to a district or community, which naturally includes many specific corners.

The place Darkus passed through was called the Fish Market. Although the smell was cleaned up with magic every day when it was in use, and although it had been closed since the arrival of Duruci, there was still a faint smell of salted fish stubbornly lingering in the air, as if it had seeped into the cracks of the stone slabs and was slowly getting into his nose with the wind from the street corner. This reminded him of his experience when he was active in Aldorf.

From the very beginning of Lorthern's establishment, this place was planned as a market specifically for selling fish, hence the straightforward name "Fish Market." The reason for setting it in the North Harbor was due to practical considerations: the vast ocean was too turbulent for daily fishing, while the inland sea, like the Mediterranean, was calm and peaceful, with abundant catches, making it ideal for day-to-day fishing and trading.

In the past, fish markets were typically laid out on brightly colored carpets, their scales shimmering in the sunlight. The fish on display were usually the freshest, thanks to magical preservation techniques.

If anyone dares to bring rotten seafood into this area, the stench will immediately cause dissatisfaction among the residents of Asur, who will directly complain to the relevant departments, claiming that this action is unsightly and ruins the city's elegant atmosphere.

cou~
Interestingly, the seafood here is always priced at twice the usual price. Customers must participate in the bargaining process to buy the ingredients they want at a relatively "reasonable" price.

Of course, this is actually a form of entertainment.

Retail buying and selling is not about low prices, but about satisfying the dual needs of the citizens of Lorthern: to buy the freshest fish, to pass the time with lively debates, and to feel satisfied with what they have gained.

This kind of atmosphere is exactly the kind of lifestyle that ordinary citizens enjoy.

Large-scale fish trade is often even more chaotic. More often than not, transactions are completed in informal auctions, frequently with services paid for in return for goods. Limited storage space also prevents goods from remaining in port for long periods, forcing fishermen and traders to use gangplanks to directly transfer cargo between boats.

The upper-class citizens of Lortheron, the nobles, rarely set foot in the fish market themselves. They usually send agents or family servants to do it for them, and they never get their hands on a single fishy smell.

However, with the arrival of Duruci, the fate of the fish market was completely changed. It was quickly transformed into a temporary storage area, with large quantities of timber and stone used to build warehouses and supports in a short period of time, and the market was filled with supplies.

But now, with war looming, these storage facilities were dismantled by Duruci's soldiers and Asur laborers. Planks were removed one by one, supports were toppled, as if the entire fish market had been smoothed out and returned to its original state. After the dust settled, it seemed as if Duruci had never truly been there, as if the dramatic changes to this place were merely an illusion, and everything had returned to its beginning.

Darkus walked through it, the salty, fishy smell still lingering in his nostrils, his thoughts inevitably drawn to it. Just then, his figure was suddenly enveloped by a massive shadow. He instinctively looked up, his gaze catching sight of the colossal shadow gliding through the air—it was Cecin Hal.

At this moment, the dragon from the forest had reverted to its true dragon form, its scales gleaming coldly in the sunlight. Its powerful hind legs gripped a massive metal box tightly as it flapped its wings and flew towards the city.

The box was no ordinary cargo; it was a special isolation box used to treat Ryana. Its weight caused the box to sway in the air, reflecting blinding flashes of light.

On the ship, besides Cecin-Hal, Springtwin was also present, but he wasn't carrying out the task. The reason was simple: Springtwin was far too large to move freely between the dock and the ship, easily disrupting order. The elves were still busily loading cargo onto the ship; what was needed now were nimble and powerful executors, not behemoths.

As for why the metal box appeared in Lorthorn instead of staying in the port of Elisthe, that's a long story.

Although Rianna's condition is improving, she is still in the treatment phase, and her recovery is slow and cautious. However, this matter is not of great concern to her personally; at least in the grand scheme of things, she is merely a patient who needs treatment, not the one in control of the situation.

The original attending physician, Drusara, along with several deputy attending physicians, remained in Port Elisthe. Drusara's duties extended far beyond simple medical care; while treating Riana, she also assisted in handling the civil affairs of the Kingdom of South Saffre.

Those in charge of the populist system mostly remained in the southern part of the Kingdom of Safri, like a giant chessboard where everyone moves on their own square.

Alisa and Asanok were in charge of land planning; Hemara handled civil affairs; Colonia coordinated related equipment; and Drusala was a typical jack-of-all-trades, appearing wherever needed, her presence ubiquitous. Marlene was similar, a versatile talent always ready to be deployed, filling every possible gap.

On the night before Darkus left, he and Drusara... could be described as pouring out their hearts to each other, or as exchanging unspoken understandings. They both knew that they would likely never see each other again for a long time to come.

The following day, Darkus departed from Port Eleste. He took with him his old companions—Genevieve, Beloda, Adana, the Twilight Sisters, Cecin-Hal, and Springtwin. Also on board were several heavyweights from the Hothian Faction: Aurelian, Miserion, Arelane, and Asantir. These figures, holding seats in the Hothian Tower, were not on a whim, but were en route to Lorthene for a meeting to participate in a crucial discussion concerning the future of the Hothian Faction.

As a result… on the third day, the ship, which was already adrift on the inland sea, suddenly turned back to the port of Elisthe. At that moment, Dacules and Drusara met again.

Surprised? Unexpected?
Darkus received a message from Lorthorn.

The most crucial part of the message was that Imrek had returned to Tal Sammersan, bringing back a large herd of dragons. This wasn't just a simple combination of a name and a group of creatures; it was a wake-up call for everyone. More importantly, this intelligence indicated that the Khaledo forces were preparing an attack on Lorthen.

Even a lion must exert its full strength to hunt a rabbit. How much more so when the opponent is not a rabbit, but a dragon.

Darkus knew very well that if he didn't make timely adjustments and revise and strengthen the plan and the team again, he would be putting himself under some kind of brain-degrading aura.

So the ship turned back.

Drusara, Colonia, Alisa, Asanok, Liver, Fenrir, Hemara, and Marin—these high-ranking spellcasters who had originally remained in the Kingdom of Saffre—were also recalled and joined the ranks returning to Lor'then. Each of their additions was like adding a heavyweight piece to a chessboard, making the situation more unpredictable.

Aside from the spellcasters on the ship, Lorthorn's side was a veritable gathering of heroes.

Finnubal's relatives and staunch supporters—Kalis Starlight; Azarion's father-in-law—Anurian; council members related to Finnubal or from the Kingdom of Ithaan—Bel-Tanya, Morian, and Aserys—are all in Lorthen, as is Belanar.

And this is only the strength of Asur's side.

On the Duruch side, the stakes are even higher. The Arcane Academy system, led by the legendary spellcasters Malekith and Anasara, is an indispensable core. In addition, there is Serene, the leader of the Stormweavers Order, and High Priestess Violet.

As for the other demigod, Saril, he did not participate in this journey, but instead chose to guard the White Tower of Hoss, stabilizing that high ground of knowledge and power.

But it's not over yet...

The Asley faction is also present, including Delina, the Woodland Lord from Anmir, Morana, the Woodland Lord from Mordren, and Areda, the Woodland Lord from Tilseth, who sided with Darkus in that battle. In addition, there is Terra, the current prophet of Azsolo.

As the saying goes, you may have dragons, but sorry, I have dragons too. In addition, I have spellcasters and a crushing system with a generational gap, from intelligence to civil administration, from staff officers to the military.

You have one card; sorry, I have many.

Soon, Darkus passed through the fish market and arrived at a building guarded by Black Knights and Sea Guards.

This used to be a tavern, yes, a tavern called Eldair-Isaac, which translates to Flying Fish Tavern.

Before Trudeau arrived, the area around the pub was filled with performers, vendors selling trinkets, and stalls selling grilled fish and squid. After buying fish, customers who didn't want to take it home could have it prepared, seasoned, and eaten on the spot at the stalls.

The tavern entrance is framed by a decorative carving of flying fish, their delicate scales shimmering faintly in the lamplight. Steps descend, like a secret ceremonial passage, eventually merging into a short tunnel leading to a circular cave. The soft glow of salt lamps bathes the cavern, and rugged, ancient murals of sea creatures hang on the walls. Several aquariums are embedded within the walls, their waters churning magically, seaweed swaying, and strange fish swimming within, creating an eerie yet captivating atmosphere.

The cave is very large and has an unexpected layout. In addition to providing food and shows, it also offers accommodation.

Flying fish usually only appear in the eastern part of Ulthuan, that is, in the waters of the Kingdom of North Iris, the Kingdom of Kosqui, and the Drifting Islands. Therefore, this Flying Fish Tavern is like an early stage of a chain store.
Although this was his first time here, Bellorda had already mentioned the Flying Fish Tavern to him.

Flying Fish Tavern is owned by Adana's family.

The restaurant he was visiting was not the first, but the second. The first, located in Tal Corelli, the capital of the Kingdom of Kosqui, was already famous and almost always packed, with ordinary diners often having to queue outside. The second, however, was a complete replica; instead of building a magnificent structure on the ground, they deliberately dug out a cave to perfectly recreate the original flavor.

With the rise of trade between Ausuan and Elsin Alwyn, a third establishment in Tal Iris was also under construction, but was forced to be put on hold due to the sudden outbreak of war.

Once inside the cave, it was brightly lit. The energy released by the Arcane Sphere intertwined with the glow of the accompanying electric lights, illuminating the cold, dark rock walls as if it were daytime, replacing the previous dim salt lamps.

This allowed Dakotas to spot Finnubar, who was looking down at the documents, at first glance.

After greeting everyone in turn, he walked straight to Karashir's side and spoke with a hint of sarcasm.

"I feel very heavy-hearted."

Karashir was bewildered by this remark. A report he had already prepared was stuck in his throat, his fingers hovering over the edge of the document. He seemed to have suddenly lost his confidence and didn't know how to respond.

“Your uncle and I have a life-or-death bond, but unfortunately, I didn’t take good care of you. I think if Lindialock were standing in front of you right now, he wouldn’t even recognize you. This is causing me a lot of heartache.”

Karashir was taken aback for a moment by this carefully crafted, sarcastic tone, then a sigh escaped his lips. He knew very well that although the words were sarcastic, they were not cold-hearted, but rather a mixture of reproach and helpless concern; Darkus's care for him and his slight apology were genuine.

His current condition is indeed very bad, even appalling. The pressure is like a real burden weighing on his shoulders, making it hard for him to breathe.

His last real sleep was the day before yesterday, which amounted to only two hours of intermittent dozing on a cot. This morning, the breakfast he forced down was vomited up shortly afterward; even his stomach seemed to be protesting. He usually survived on sugar. His clothes hadn't been changed in a long time; sweat and the smell of cigarettes gave off a foul odor, making him look utterly wretched.

He raised his hand and wiped his face, his fingertips brushing against the corners of his eyes and temples, as if trying to erase his weariness and haggardness. After forcing his expression back to normal, he exhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling, as if expelling the gloom that had accumulated in his chest.

"You've worked hard these past few days." Darkus reached out and patted Karashir on the shoulder, the touch neither too light nor too heavy, carrying a hint of comfort and recognition. After lowering his hand, he let out a long sigh, but his gaze remained fixed on the other man.

Karashir's rank was High Lord of Fear, responsible for the logistics and deployment of the army, which meant he held considerable power. But the Karashir before us was withered, his brows showing a deathly weariness, as if he had been under some kind of dark magic, turning from youthful vigor into old and haggard in a short period of time.

That power wasn't earned for nothing; it was something he risked his life for. "Fortunately, I completed the mission!" Karashir's voice was hoarse, but it carried a stubborn pride, and a fleeting glint of defiance flashed in his eyes.

Faced with this stubbornness and exhaustion, Darkus simply responded with laughter, a laughter tinged with helplessness. He then pointed at Karashir, his expression complex, revealing a hint of pity.

Although he had been staying in Port Eleste, he was fully aware of what had happened in Lortheon.

While in Anaheim, the naval commanders of Tarrendan, Therwank, and Asul had already conducted a joint assessment, estimating the approximate throughput of the entire transportation system. The figures and plans on paper looked well-organized.

However, the actual operation was far less smooth than expected.

Despite the administrative system being pushed to its limits and officials and the military operating day and night, geographical conditions and inherent limitations stood like an iron block in their way, unshakable.

First, the supplies for the Truc were gathered from all directions. Before the Battle of Anaheim, they needed to be loaded simultaneously from five major ports: Chapeyuto, Krakarond, New Hagrid Grave, Nagarond, and Karond Kar. Mountains and seas of supplies and manpower had to be crammed into the Black Ark and various ships, a process that alone consumed countless hours and manpower.

It should be noted that this is under the condition that the five major ports are operating at full capacity.

Unfortunately, Darkus's supplies were prepared on an annual basis, not monthly or quarterly. He couldn't tolerate waiting for supplies when battles needed to be launched, thus wasting precious opportunities. This redundancy and stockpiling was almost inevitable.

Perhaps this is a characteristic of elves? For them, planning and deployment are measured in years. If it were fifty years for humans, the political landscape would have changed hands several times, with politicians and military leaders coming and going. Who could afford such a large-scale undertaking?

Before and after the capture of Anaheim, the railway from Krakarond to Anaheim was under construction, and the future logistical artery of Truc was gradually taking shape.

Later, the entire Nagarus railway system will be mobilized, and a massive flow of supplies will be smoothly transported to Krakarond, where they will be reloaded and transported to Anaheim, and finally from Anaheim to Lorthen by ship.

The significance of this route is self-evident; it compresses the flight path to its shortest possible length, saving not only time but also the energy consumption of the entire war machine. In contrast, on the Eshiriel side, supplies are still being transferred through Chapeyuto.

Upon arrival, everything proceeded smoothly and according to plan, as if all the gears were meshing precisely. But once the ship actually reached Lorthorn, problems arose.

Although Lor'then is the largest port in Ulthuan, holding a unique position, its geographical location makes it an unshakeable obstacle. No matter how large or imposing the Black Ark may be, it cannot enter the Lor'then Lagoon.

This is an unavoidable physical fact.

Therefore, Duluqi had no choice but to settle for second best.

Some supplies were directly hauled from the Black Ark by ships, entered the passageway, sailed into the inland sea, and delivered directly to their destinations. Other supplies had to be transported piecemeal, unloaded from the Black Ark, then transferred a second time in Lorthorn, and finally gradually dispersed through the lagoon and North Harbor system.

This step is so tedious it's a headache, yet it can't be omitted.

Therefore, Lortherne is facing unprecedented pressure.

Unfortunately, the entrance connecting the lagoon to the vast ocean is too narrow, almost like a barely passable crack. Entry and exit must be strictly orderly; otherwise, it would be like a traffic jam, completely blocking the entrance.

Currently, even with its almost obsessive-compulsive administrative system, the elves can only manage to maintain an orderly schedule, much like a train's punctuality. Otherwise, if any link in the chain fails, the entire passageway will be completely paralyzed. The same applies to the entrances connecting the lagoon and the inland sea, which are even more cramped in this regard.

Expand?

How could Trudeau not have thought of that? He's not exactly someone with a "low IQ" aura. In fact, they not only thought about it, but they also put it into practice.

To put it more vividly, it's like the gap between two front teeth; this gap is the entrance and exit of the lagoon. The only way to squeeze a giant object in is to widen the gap. Of course, Duruci couldn't just pry the two front teeth off, because he couldn't. So they used the Twisting Cannon, magically grinding away a portion of it, just like how a single shot can make a city wall or matter disappear.

This is already the optimal solution.

If blasting is chosen, the rubble will inevitably roll into the channel, blocking the passage. And without support, the sea gate will fall into the channel, but fortunately, since it is a sea gate, it will actually cushion the seabed and not affect entry and exit.

As for what happens after that, we'll talk about it after the war ends.

Long-term construction is a pipe dream. War waits for no one, and the elves are even less likely to waste their limited resources on a project with almost no output. In addition, there are constraints on the construction area. Just like digging a tunnel, having more people is useless and there is not enough space.

Thus, although the waterway was widened, the Black Ark still could not enter.

But time... remains an insurmountable adversary.

Even if the elves defeat their enemies, they can never defeat time. They can only choose to move around, and moving around means more waiting and delays.

The report Malekith saw in Newkel was a cold, hard number about the remaining supplies for the Black Ark and Lorthorn to be transferred. The report was unembellished, revealing only the raw pressure and inadequacy, like a mirror reflecting the flaws of the war machine.

"Tell me, how did you accomplish it?" Darkus asked, his tone unhurried.

As he spoke, he took out a cigarette case from his pocket and handed one to Karashir. The gesture carried a brotherly understanding, requiring no further words.

As the flames ignited and smoke rose, Kalashir began his narration.

In fact, Dakotas didn't care about the process at all; he only wanted the result.

What he wanted was for the supplies that had been painstakingly accumulated to be safely and securely placed where they were meant to be, rather than being lost, wasted, or even completely out of control due to some absurd, mind-numbing aura.

But that doesn't stop him from asking about the process; for him, even if it's just going through the motions, it's still a form of confirmation.

As the smoke dissipated, Kalashir's story came to an end.

"Find a place to get a good night's sleep after you've finished cleaning up. Whatever happens outside is none of your business. We'll talk about it when you wake up." Darkus nodded slightly, his eyes showing satisfaction. After speaking, he patted Karashir on the shoulder and turned to leave.

He didn't give any mobilization speech or shout any empty slogans.

Instead, they wander around the caves at will, offering cigarettes to the staff or offering encouragement with a few words and gestures.

This approachable and down-to-earth attitude is more powerful than empty slogans.

As for rewards?

But did he stop offering cigarettes? That was the most direct reward.

No, there really isn't...

The military has its own rules, and what these staff members are doing is simply their duty, a task that must be completed.

However, what is meant to be will eventually be there.

The experience and qualifications I've accumulated during this period will be invaluable for future promotions, and I'll follow the rules without missing a thing. As I always say, the military has its own rules.

There's a saying that goes, "Large-scale warfare..."

Bell-Aijo was in no better shape than Karasiel. Dakous spoke to him for a few minutes and offered him a cigarette, which helped him recover a little.

Then, Dakos went straight to Finnubar's side; it was no coincidence that he came here first.

There are two reasons:
Firstly, it was to understand the situation regarding the transfer of supplies.

Secondly, they needed to find Finnubar.

Although Finnubal lacks a second vision and is not a spellcaster, he is incredibly powerful as a link. Many of the beings holding positions in the White Tower of Hoth are either directly descended from Itaien or have intricate family ties to him.

Darkus needs a clear stance from the Hoss faction and its combat strength; otherwise, if someone pulls a dirty trick at the last minute once the battle begins, wouldn't that be pure brainwashing?

As Tzeentch's chosen one...

Who knows when Caledo might suddenly launch an attack? They flew here, not on foot or by boat.

(No more meetings, let's just fight. I'll just recount the fight in reverse chronological order. Meetings every day, meetings at work, even reading a novel involves a meeting!) (End of Chapter)