Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

Time goes back again.

As the horn sounded, the Red Dragon Gate began its dive.

Just before the dive began, 'Terrible' Malatex's vertical pupils rolled, those pupils like burning amber, flowing with a magma-like luster. He lowered his head, his massive neck muscles bulging segment by segment.

He was observing, observing calmly and cruelly.

He was searching, like a hunter, or a butcher.

He quickly found his target.
The reason for his doubt is that he wasn't entirely sure either.

There was nothing he could do; his power was too overwhelming, so overwhelming that it interfered with his observation.

To humans, Maratex is undoubtedly a dragon.

In the year 2508 of the Imperial Calendar, Maratex burned dozens of villages in the Worbegrand Hills and devoured livestock. Unable to tolerate this any longer, Rick led his army in a months-long manhunt, during which the Knights of Ebony Sword were completely annihilated.

Finally, Marcus Wofart and his hunters found Malathex, and an ambush ensued as the dragon rested on the River Reik. As Malathex flew across the River Reik, he raised his hand and fired three arrows in quick succession. His superb archery skills, enhanced and guided by the magic of the amber bow, ensured that all three arrows struck Malathex precisely in the heart.

And then that was it. Severely wounded, Malatex fell into the River Rik and died…

However, that's a matter from another timeline.

At this moment, he is undoubtedly the 'Number One Red Dragon,' incredibly strong, so strong that even the wind dares not brush against his scales, strong enough to deserve the title of 'Terrifying.'

He is the Emperor Dragon, and at the same time, he is the Doomsday Fire Dragon.

This Doomsday Dragon is different from the dragons of Ulthuan. It is a special existence among the red dragons, comparable to the Crimson Dragon and the Storm Dragon. Usually, the Doomsday Dragon is more skilled with fire than other dragons. It can not only breathe dragon breath, but also manipulate the winds of Aksha.

"Emperor Dragon" can be understood as a numerical value.

The "Doomsday Fire Dragon" can be understood as a master of a single skill, meaning it possesses a unique mechanic. However, it lacks inheritance; it has the mechanic but cannot activate it.

However, the inability to activate it dates back more than fifty years.

When the red dragon arrived in Nagaroth, and when the Duruci society completed its transition and entered a new era, everything changed.

Guided by Darkus and Modax, he, Kudnos, Azogalon, Ybbas, and Carmine chose their paths. Darkus needed the fusion of two forces and civilizations, as did Modax. Furthermore, she needed mentors from among the red dragons to teach female dragons capable of learning magic, and systematic learning of magic would further enhance the power of the red dragons.

Thus, they were no longer merely symbols of fire and power; they began to become...apprentices, magic apprentices, learning from scratch, understanding magic from nothing.

The day of the ceremony is destined to be recorded in history.

It was an exceptionally lively day. Almost everyone of note in Duruqi's society was there, except for the fat otaku who stayed in Ashriel; all the other red dragons were present.

After all, this was a groundbreaking moment.

In official terms, it was a revolutionary leap in civilization, an era of the fusion of power and knowledge.

(Several thousand words of official jargon omitted)
Afterwards, they boarded the Nagor and studied under Anna Sara, who patiently taught them, starting with the most basic legal principles and constructions.

She made these dragons, once known for their destruction, rediscover the true nature of power.

It is not about burning everything, but about guiding it.

It wasn't rage, but understanding.

From that day on, what ignited in their eyes was no longer just flames, but something deeper.

Although Marathex still has a long way to go on the path of magic, he already possesses the necessary skills. Given a few hundred more years to mature and learn, the outcome will be entirely different when he faces Marcus Wofart again.

The doomsday dragon that was shot through the heart by a hunter's magic arrow and fell into the Reik River is no longer the same creature.

Even more terrifying is that after acquiring the mechanism, his stats further inflated under Ana Sara's guidance, which is why he was known as the "First Red Dragon".

For Maratex, stats and mechanics are like his left and right feet; he'd been running with a limp all along.

Now he could run, and as he ran, he suddenly took flight. He leaped into the clouds, stepping on his right foot with his left, and soared directly into the sky.

Especially after his stats and equipment were combined, he became almost a bug-level existence.

It's like stacking buffs in some games.

With numerical advantages, cavalry in Civilization can crush tanks; in CK3, the same unit type has completely different attack and defense levels due to different numerical values; and in Stellaris, fleets, with the support of technology, generals, and levels, are on a completely different level of combat power.

This isn't just mindless hype.

It is the truth, a cold, fiery, and cruel truth.

Annasara joined the battle; she was atop the dragon in Marathex.

A pendant? It doesn't seem so.

Her existence is not subordinate, but resonates; it is 1+1 greater than 3.

The eight brass rings represent complete control over the eight winds.

The brass ring bound to the Wind of Urku was worn on Malekith's hand; while the ring bound to the Wind of Aksha was worn on Anasara's hand.

Before acquiring the ring, Anasara was a master of fire, but once the ring was placed on her finger... the flames ceased to be flames; they became her breath. She almost became the embodiment of the Akshair winds; the air around her vibrated, flames whispered in her black hair, and a golden-red halo reflected on her sculpted, cold face.

Marathex's armor plates differed subtly yet fatally from the other three Imperial Dragons. Beneath his back armor plates were two arcane orbs imbued with the winds of Aksha. These were flowing cores of flame, each flash seemingly capable of igniting the sky—though, of course, they were invisible, isolated by the sealing box.

He can activate these two arcane orbs, and so can Ana Sara. Moreover, their uses after activation are extremely diverse: they can be used offensively, defensively, and as buffs.

What's more, he is a dragon.

It is itself a huge energy reservoir, and in addition to being a battery, it has two extra batteries installed.

Purely iterated numerical values.

A pure numerical monster.

There is no logic to this.

While Marathex was observing, Annasara was also observing. She sat on the dragon throne, her hands resting on the armrests. Her left index finger tapped lightly on the metal surface, while her right index finger drew circles in the grooves, teasing the red bean-shaped molten iron inside.

Unlike armor plates, the dragon throne is a standardized product, mass-produced. In other words, she had carved this groove out with her fingers when she was bored.

She closed her eyes, her breathing slow, as if listening to the wind, or perhaps watching.

Then, she opened her eyes.

At that moment, a sharp light flashed, and his pupils were like blades in flames. A slight, cold smile curled at the corners of his lips.

This wasn't a provocation, nor was it a look of pleasure; rather, it was an expression of complete control.

As Maratex rolled over, a picture flashed through his mind.

There was no roaring, no howling, and no verbal communication.

The way this master and apprentice communicated was so efficient it was almost inhuman; they only needed a glance or a single thought.

One observation, one transmission, and it's done.

Next, let's get started!
Maratex, Ashdaron, and the Calledal couple are called a combat team, but in reality, they are no different from Maratex, who goes solo.

The other combat teams were basically fighting blindly, meaning they'd find an unlucky person to take out first, and then attack whoever came next, whoever was closest. But it couldn't be called chaos; that kind of chaos was just a shell of order.

There exists a hidden connection between each group, an instinctive reaction formed through countless rehearsals. The flight paths and attack routes of the three groups intertwine, forming a massive triangular formation that can be seen slowly unfolding from above.

When one squad falls behind or is surrounded by enemy forces, another squad will cut in, flanking the front line to provide support. In addition, there's the lone Marok and the reserve Ibas, and this is just the dragon.

This kind of coordinated action doesn't rely on command or flag signals; it depends entirely on tacit understanding and instinct for killing.

In layman's terms, it's about gathering monsters, not much different from lords, heroes, or behemoths taking a bath in a troop mass. The difference is that their bathing is more orderly; they can pull them out, return them to their original positions, and self-regulate.

Maratex's combat squad was not part of this main force. They received independent missions before the battle, with clearly defined targets. If the target was present, they would attack it and then rejoin the main force; if the target was absent, they would huddle together for a shower.

So, in essence, they are no different from a solo Marok.

Lone wolf.

A lone wolf assigned a mission.

If the target is present, launch an attack on it and then regroup with the main force; if the target is absent, retreat as a group.

And now, the goal is there!
After the roll, it accelerated, its huge wings snapping back, the dragon wing bones emitting a low metallic scraping sound. In that instant, it folded its wings to its sides to the maximum extent, its massive body resembling a falling meteorite, tearing the air apart as if it were its prey.

With air resistance reduced to a minimum, gravity became the chain that guided him, pulling him toward the ground at a heart-pounding speed—a dive!
During this process, instead of adjusting his posture or returning to a horizontal position, he began to spin wildly like a drill.

The rotation was rhythmic, with emphasis and pulsation. The air around him constantly swirled and twisted, torn into sharp sonic waves. The howling wind transformed into a series of continuous roars, vibrating every inch of space in the sky.

And the air became his target for drilling.

Annasara simply pursed her lips slightly in response.

Helpless, truly helpless.

Once Maratex spun up, she naturally spun around on the dragon throne as well. Fortunately, she was able to control her hair and was not flung up by the centrifugal force.

She didn't say anything; after all, she didn't need to cast a spell.

Of course, not casting a spell doesn't mean she won't move; she's already started twitching.

The two arcane orbs containing the winds of Aksha were activated, and energy flowed out, flowing along the guide lines into the dragon armor, instantly boosting the armor plates' effectiveness to their limit.

The patterns on the armor plate surface lit up little by little; it was the runes burning, the resonance between the dragon and energy.

His armor plates were originally dark red, but when the runes were activated, the armor plate in the center of his body lit up first, turning into a scorching fiery red. Then, the light spread along his spine forward and backward, and the armor on his chest, sides, and tail also lit up in turn, like light strips lighting up one by one, outlining his massive silhouette in the high sky.

At that moment, Maratex was almost indistinguishable from a falling comet.

The air behind him ignited, leaving a long trail of flames, and even the sky trembled at his dive.

At this moment, Kelice Flameheart was disheveled and shocked. When he looked up and saw the falling fireball, he even paused for a moment.

The force of the fall, the scorching power that seemed to burn the sky, gave him a fleeting illusion—it wasn't a dragon, but a divine punishment! (End of Chapter)