Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

"Ah...this?!"

Looking at the battlefield in the distance, Darkus's expression turned strange. He had an excellent memory, but the scene he was seeing didn't match his memories.

But he quickly came to terms with it, realizing the key point.

However, this seems insignificant in the current situation.
Because the outcome is predetermined, the dragons really don't have much time left.

Time goes back again.

Before Darkus could even observe from the sidelines while the battle raged on, Ashdaron, having secured the kill, slowly flapped his wings, black flames flickering at the edges of his wing membranes like embers of war. With a low rumble, he turned and joined Caledar. (Continued from Chapter 881)
After the couple reunited, they didn't exchange pleasantries or boast about their glorious achievements; instead, they immediately set off.

As they rendezvoused, Maratex, positioned below, moved. His massive body flapped its wings, rising rapidly with a low, tearing sound as it ascended, creating a height difference with the approaching mist. Flames escaped from the gaps in the armor plates, scorching the air into distorted ripples. Then, he began maneuvering towards his new position.

If the terrifying Maratex moves, then Ashdaron and Calledal must also move.

Who made the three of them a combat team?
Their mission was to cooperate, to provide cover, to support Maratex, and to extend the tacit understanding between them that required no words.

This was supposed to be a routine tactical maneuver, a small-scale high-altitude maneuver to reposition, adjust, and then move into the next attack sequence. But when Kudenos joined, everything changed, turning into a breathtaking aerial ballet.

Did the three of them employ a fancy, almost insane, coordinated tactic?
No, it's less of a tactic and more of a display of skill.

Because at this moment there was no imminent threat in the airspace around them, no pursuing dragon breath, and no swooping claws.

In this brief vacuum, they unfolded a pure display of skill. A visual feast dedicated to all viewers gazing at the sky, a spectacle of power, control, and perfect harmony. It was an arrogant aesthetic, sculpting order and elegance with technique against a backdrop of burning heavens and death.

Thus, this magnificent spectacle, so different from the tragic atmosphere around it, was unfolding in an almost arrogant manner.

When Kudenos spotted Ashdaron and Caledar approaching from the opposite direction, he didn't hesitate for a moment. His massive figure, shrouded in flames and storm, precisely adjusted its flight direction and altitude as if it had been rehearsed countless times. Then, he made a move that left all observers speechless.

He began to rotate, he began to spin, not once, not twice. But at a steady, heart-pounding frequency, he tumbled and accelerated continuously.

His dragon body, wreathed in flames and lightning, transformed in the air into an enormous spiral drill that stretched across the sky. Red and blue intertwined, flames and lightning swirled, and with a howl that tore through the clouds and a dazzling halo, it drilled straight forward. The sound seemed to cleave the air itself, and to onlookers in the distance, it even seemed to distort the heavens for a moment.

In that critical moment when the two were about to pass each other at extremely high speeds.

Located on the left, Caledall's crimson figure gracefully made a light and precise roll to the left.

Ashdaron, positioned on the right, simultaneously executed a powerful and stable roll to the right with his dark silhouette.

His maneuvering mirrored Calledall's perfectly, synchronized, forceful, and steady, as if responding to his partner's movements in a silent rhythm. With a flick of his massive dragon wings, the air currents swept outwards like blades, the two wind pressures intersecting and tearing a narrow rift in the air.

It was like the heaviest and most magnificent door in the center of the stage being opened simultaneously by two perfectly coordinated attendants.

In that instant, a perfect aerial passage, just large enough for Kudnos to pass through, was created!

In the next instant, Kudnos, that terrifying being that had transformed into a drill of destruction, carried a raging wave that tore through the sky and passed through the passage of this fleeting existence!

Flames were compressed into bands of light behind his wings, lightning exploded into rings between his body, and the air was scorched into a vacuum.

The figures of the three giant dragons intersected and separated in less than a second.

The scorching foehn winds and ionizing storms brought by Kudnos swept across the armor plates of Ashdaron and Caledal, stirring up subtle yet dazzling ripples of energy.

The feeling was like metal roaring, or like a god whispering.

Looking up from the ground, the scene at this moment resembles a burning meteor precisely passing through an archway formed by night and dusk.

Flames churned in the trail, lightning flashed along the path, and the sky and sea were illuminated in that instant into a spectacular scene of interwoven silver and crimson.

It was a dazzling, precise, and breathtakingly powerful scene.

This brief but dazzling moment was less a display of skill and more a declaration.

A silent yet soul-stirring declaration: in this extremely dangerous yet magnificent way, they are proclaiming their absolute dominion over this sky to all the witnesses.

They can not only destroy, but also dance a death dance that belongs only to the victors on this battlefield.

After completing that breathtaking interplay, Kudnos moved like a leading actor taking his final bow. His churning dragon body slowly regained its balance amidst thunder and flames, without a single unnecessary tremor or roar. Then, he folded his wings, and the lingering flames and arcs of electricity danced wildly behind him like a cloak.

He carried the afterglow of the natural disaster, like a calamity star falling to earth, plunging straight down and casting the destructive will that he had briefly restrained during his display of skill back onto the real battlefield.

Behind him, the couple, Calledal and Ashdaron, once again demonstrated what true understanding and chemistry mean.

The instant Kudenos passed through, they barely needed to think. As if by telepathy, they simultaneously performed reverse rolling motions, their movements so fluid and precise that even the air seemed to make way for them.

The two trajectories intertwined, closed again, and precisely shut down the archway that had existed for only a fraction of a second.

Their wingtips almost touched, forming that unbreakable twin-plane formation once again, as if the breathtaking performance just now was nothing more than an elegant dance during a lull in the battle.

However, what truly sent chills down the spines and made the hearts of all the onlookers, whether it was Asul, Asley, or Enil, tighten was not the cooperation of the three dragons, but rather a far grander and more incredible phenomenon unfolding in the airspace above the center of the lagoon.

The magical mist that had been calmly obscuring the lake's surface ceased to spread and began to contract and condense violently. The air above the lake distorted as if being squeezed by an invisible giant hand, and the mist curled into clumps amidst roars and murmurs.

While the area is shrinking rapidly, its height is rising at an almost insane speed!

The thick, almost tangible fog churned and twisted, within which light and shadow struggled, like ghosts drowning in a gray tide. The fog gradually transformed from a hazy cloud-like form; it rolled, convulsed, and coalesced, finally coalescing into a gigantic, five-fingered gray hand!

The palm of that hand was like an unfathomable vortex, within which darkness slowly spun, even sucking in sunlight. With a deathly stillness that devoured light, it slowly rose from the center of the lake, and amidst a deafening roar and the tearing sound of air, it reached straight for the sun in the sky!
At that moment, the whole world seemed to be caught in a struggle between light and shadow. The sunlight was blocked by that giant gray hand, and what was reflected on the lake was a setting sun being crushed. The sky let out a low howl like a mournful cry, the sea of ​​clouds rolled, the gale surged, and even the air itself was stretched into taut strings, emitting a piercing tremor.

Above this giant hand of mist, Duruchi's aerial killing formation finally revealed its fangs.

"Terrifying" Maratex hovered above the mist like a coordinate of death. His cold dragon eyes gazed into the distance. There was no emotion in his gaze, only cold calculation, as if he were calculating the wind speed, distance, and the arc of fate, waiting for that one and only opportunity to strike.

The dual-plane formation of Caledar and Ashdaron occupies a high position of support, like two half-drawn blades, their cold gleam concealed, yet ready to unleash a deadly cross attack at any moment.

Higher still, "Sapphire Eye" Ibas was descending at a dizzying speed. Her massive blue armor plates shimmered like jewels in the sunlight, like a falling blue star, its trail piercing the sky with a chilling aura. She was swooping down to join this hunt whose fate was already sealed.

All the killer moves have been revealed; the plan is complete.

The sky, the fog, the sun, and the giant dragons scattered at different altitudes, exuding an aura of destruction, together create a layered, ritualistic, and oppressive apocalyptic scene.

This is no longer just a battle; it's more like a meticulously planned, destructive sacrifice offered to all adversaries.

Its rhythm is precise, its visuals are cold, and the trajectory of every dragon and the refraction of every gust of wind seem to be controlled by an invisible conductor—this is the ballet of war, the symphony of death.

From a purely tactical perspective, this airspace has become a brutal game of chess.

Selenex, the Star Dragon, held captive by "Dragon Mother" Modax, became the point that could not be abandoned. Like the sweetest poisoned bait, it attracted the fire dragons from the west of Lorthene to rush to her rescue. The red dragon combat teams, of course, transformed into the deadliest blocking force, relentlessly intercepting and killing them along the way.

The same logic applies to the battle situation on the east side.

However, due to the immense distance, even the 'Terrible' Marathex could not arrive instantly. Therefore, holding the center of the lagoon became the optimal, and also the most ruthless, choice. Like a giant wielding a sharp axe, standing between heaven and earth, capable of cleaving the torrent of fire from the east in two, thus delaying its advance to the greatest extent possible.

Of course, this is not without its flaws.

For those Fire Dragons who intend to maneuver along the edges and make wide-ranging maneuvers, this method is ultimately unattainable.

But... that's no longer important.

Duluth held an unshakeable advantage in time; every second that passed was like a black weight being slowly added to the scales of their victory.

"By the time the dragon has circled around, the raiding fleet will already be in position." This chilling consensus, like a countdown to the end, resonated in the hearts of every participant. Every elf who witnessed the rising mist and the revealed battle formation in the center of the lagoon, whether Asur, Asley, or Enir, clearly sensed—this was the moment of final judgment!

The spectators on the city walls understood, the warriors and mages in the sky, about to land, understood, and the soldiers on the rooftops understood. But those who felt it most deeply, those who felt the most despair, were the fire dragons and dragon princes who, knowing it was certain death, had to launch the attack. They sensed the approach of death more clearly than any of the bystanders.

This is precisely why, from a distance, Darkus believed that the only rational choice for the fire dragons at this moment was not to fight to the death, nor to break through the encirclement, but to break out immediately. In his view, before the encirclement completely closed, tearing open a gap at all costs and scattering in all directions was the only way to preserve the last embers of their race's survival.

As he had predicted, reality began to show signs of collapse.

A small number of dragons, overwhelmed by the fear of death and their sense of honor and duty, attempted to withdraw from the battle. They frantically turned around, trying to escape this already sealed-off death zone before more enemies could fall like an iron curtain.

The fire dragons are a loosely organized tribal society, unable to move in unison like a hive mind sharing a common thought or emotion.

Fear can spread and contagious among individuals like a plague.

However, tragedy and stubbornness often coexist.

More dragons, driven by covenant, honor, or simply rage, chose to continue the fight. Especially on the eastern side, a group of dragons had locked onto Malatex's massive figure hovering above the mist as their target to be destroyed. They let out a desperate roar, folded their wings, transformed into burning javelins, and, with their last courage and strength, launched a relentless swoop down on him.

This is no longer a battle, but a death march.

Facing the swarm of fire dragons charging in, "Terrible" Marathex made no attempt to maneuver or evade. His massive body stood like a death fortress nailed to the sky, and the destructive energy in his throat emitted a continuous and rapid, sharp buzzing sound far exceeding anything he had ever heard before.

He opened fire.

call out! call out! call out! call out! call out!
This time, it's no longer the explosive bombs that fired every second, aiming for a single, fatal strike, nor is it the deadly ray that was condensed to the extreme for precise cutting. Instead, it's a variant of the explosive bomb, a compromised version of the king of efficiency.

With Ana Sara's assistance, he skillfully divided and shaped the destructive energy, transforming it into a greater number, faster, and denser barrage of bullets. In his previous hunts, he had learned that against a dispersed charge, absolute power sometimes meant excess, and his mission now was not to attack, but to intercept!

At this moment, he has completely transformed into an ultimate turret floating in the sky with an unlimited ammunition belt!

Energy orbs, compressed to a dark red but with cores as bright as day, poured out of his gaping maw at an almost frenzied speed. They were no longer individual death gods, but rather a raging torrent of death, precisely covering all the fire dragons at his level.

The sky, this enormous canvas, was instantly torn apart and filled with countless red brushstrokes.

These energy projectiles were not random; the moment they left the dragon's throat, they seemed to be guided by an invisible will, forming a huge, scorching, and rapidly expanding deadly spider web. Each trajectory was clearly visible, briefly imprinted on the retina, like red-hot iron wires sketching wildly against the deep blue sky.

They were like a reverse-ascending, crimson meteor shower composed of pure destruction, so dense that there were almost no gaps. Or like a swarm of disturbed, burning bees, emitting piercing screams as they rushed toward their target.

This was exactly what Darkus witnessed. In his memory, Malatex was terrifying, but not this terrifying. Something must have happened. Perhaps Malatex and his clanswoman had broken through their limits in battle, or perhaps his clanswoman had obtained some extraordinary opportunity.

During the preparations for King's Landing in Ulthuan, the Arcane Academy, in conjunction with the intelligence department under Egileser, produced a booklet, which was then printed in batches. It was very beautiful, with both text and illustrations and color paintings.

The booklet is similar to a ship identification manual, allowing pilots and submariners to identify vessels and determine their waterline, weaknesses, and so on. It also lists the magical weapons, staves, and family crests possessed by the Asur, helping them identify their opponents and respond accordingly. (Appeared in Chapter 847)

Harald's sword of victory was also in the book, but unfortunately, the soldiers on the observation deck ran into him and didn't have time to look through the book. Even if they had, it wouldn't have mattered since they had already run into him.

Therefore, Dakotas leans more towards the latter possibility, after all, Anna Sara was his paternal aunt, and after all, they both shared the surname Helban.

A blazing sun dragon charging at the forefront bore the brunt of the attack. Before he could even react, three consecutive energy blasts pierced his chest, neck, and skull like heavy hammers.

There was no explosion, only penetration!
Three huge, molten-edged holes instantly appeared on his body. The light in his eyes went out in an instant. His massive body glided forward a little further due to inertia, and then fell downwards like a puppet with its strings cut.

This is just the beginning.

Maratex's cannon muzzle swayed slightly, and the torrent of death swept across the sky.

The other Fiery Sun Dragon was struck in the side by five energy projectiles simultaneously. Her body didn't shatter, but was instead brutally torn in two with a series of dull thuds! Dragon blood and internal organs poured out from the broken pieces like a torrential downpour.

A blazing dragon attempting to traverse horizontally by speed was instantly pierced by seven or eight such red lines simultaneously. Its body, like a specimen pierced by multiple spears of light, trembled violently under the influence of kinetic energy, and then, in a chain reaction of internal energy, transformed into an expanding fireball.

Within seconds of Maratex opening fire, this airspace transformed from a battlefield into a dynamic, ever-present zone of destruction, a veritable slaughterhouse where crimson lines constantly emerged and vanished. Single-handedly, with this dazzling yet brutal energy storm, he declared absolute inviolability over this airspace, constructing a horizontal death line that no living being could cross.

With just one barrage of horizontal shots, the horizontal death line constructed by Malatex had already inflicted heavy losses on the fire dragons attempting to move in parallel. Wherever the barrage passed, dragon scales shattered, dragon bones broke, and dragon wings were torn to shreds.

The fire dragons at the same altitude as him were like harvested wheat, swathes of them being blown apart, dismembered, and even vaporized in mid-air. Faced with this absolute density of firepower, the fire dragons' courage and lives seemed so cheap and fragile.

However, instead of consolidating the front line on that side, he abruptly shifted the focus of his attack.

There were indeed remnants of the fire dragon parallel to him, but he no longer needed to pay attention to them, because the rising magical mist was already in place!
The thick, almost tangible mist, now resembling a pair of woven giant hands, precisely closed and joined together, forming a massive recess that sheltered Malathes' enormous body. The mist barrier completely obscured his parallel line of sight to the sides and below, meaning that any attack attempting to launch from these angles would first be swallowed, deflected, or weakened by this eerie mist. And within the mist, a terrifying entity lurked, waiting for the fire dragon to crash into it.

With this living shield, threats from the horizontal direction were no longer worth his attention.

His icy dragon eyes instantly locked onto a new airspace—the high sky!
Those fire dragons that used their height advantage to try to evade the horizontal barrage from above, poised like eagles to launch a deadly dive, became his new targets for elimination.

call out! call out! call out! call out! call out!
He fired again! It was still those rapid-fire energy bullets, but this time, the trajectory changed from a horizontal torrent of death to an upward-cascading waterfall of destruction!

The energy projectiles traced steep, scorching parabolas, shooting against gravity towards the sky. In this moment, they were no longer horizontal anti-aircraft guns, but transformed into a barrage of anti-aircraft artillery!

The upward trajectory of the projectiles, combined with the swooping fire dragons, created a scene of utter carnage in the air, yet also possessing a strange and beautiful aesthetic.

Those fire dragons that launched their desperate dives from the sky became the most tragic characters in this death performance. But they faced not only the pure, destructive energy barrage from Malatex, which surged upwards against the heavens, but also an even more unpredictable and difficult-to-defend attack from another sky ruler.

Ibas the Sapphire Eye is ready!

As a storm dragon, her strength was greatly reduced after Serene's Rolling Sky Phenomenon disappeared, as if she had lost the powerful boost given by the outside world and returned to her own basic values.

But... this does not mean she has become weak.

Even without the blessing of that strange celestial phenomenon, she is still one of the top beings in the sky; her basic stats speak for themselves!
More importantly, she was currently plunging down from the highest heavens, which in itself provided her with unparalleled initial speed! The perfect superposition of gravity and the acceleration of the dragon wings caused her, who was already known for her speed, to become even faster, as fast as a blue lightning bolt tearing through the sky!

Without the slightest hesitation, she charged straight into the swarm of fire dragons that were diving down and fighting desperately against the energy blasts!
But she didn't breathe fire, nor did she swing her claws. Her massive blue dragon body performed a series of breathtaking maneuvers amidst the dense horde of dragons and barrage of energy projectiles, dancing on the edge of a knife, precisely avoiding any potential collisions or dragon breath. Her goal wasn't a direct attack, but rather to traverse the airspace at top speed before the energy barrage covered it, and in doing so, she unleashed ball lightning.

This scene was absolutely stunning and breathtaking.

Just as a massive heavy transport plane evades a missile, casting a shower of scorching light, the resemblance is merely visual. As a storm dragon, Ibas doesn't synthesize any mixture of burning magnesium powder and polytetrafluoroethylene. Her specialty is manipulating lightning, the most violent force of nature!
From beneath her rapidly soaring dragon wings and around her body, countless spheres of energy, blazing white and crackling with azure arcs of electricity, were unleashed. Unlike energy projectiles that shot straight ahead, they tumbled and leaped as if alive, falling downwards like heavy raindrops.

These ball lightning bolts emitted a chilling crackling sound as soon as they appeared. They didn't directly collide with the fire dragon, but rather exploded violently the instant they approached it, or based on their own judgment!
Boom! Sizzle!

There was no massive shockwave, but what exploded was a violent and chaotic electromagnetic storm and ionizing turbulence. This deadly interference field instantly enveloped the swooping fire dragon.

The effect was immediate. A blazing sun dragon that was about to unleash its breath suddenly lost control of the energy in its throat due to ionization interference. The breath exploded in its mouth, and half of its lower jaw was blown off.

The other Silver Moon Dragon, which relied on its keen senses to maneuver, suddenly felt as if it had been thrown into an ocean of thunder. It completely lost all sense of direction and balance. It tumbled and rolled in the air like a drunkard, and the next second, it was pierced by three energy bullets at the same time.

More fire dragons fell into extreme chaos; their bodies flickered with energy, and their movements became stiff and sluggish due to electromagnetic paralysis.

Ibas's figure flashed through the dragon horde, leaving behind a trail of continuously discharging, deathly thunderclouds composed of countless exploding ball lightning bolts, covering a vast expanse of air. She precisely unleashed deadly chaos upon the densest area of ​​enemies, then vanished, leaping away as if to return for another attack.

At this moment, the swooping fire dragons were in the most desperate situation: above them were the still crackling ball lightning minefields left by Ibas; horizontally, there was a strange mist that obscured their vision and devoured everything; below them was the relentless, skyward-reaching barrage of crimson energy from Maratex.

They seemed trapped in a three-dimensional cage where death surrounded them from all sides. Every flap of their wings could lead to an invisible electromagnetic trap; every breath could bring a beam of destruction through their bodies.

This dive had transformed from a desperate attack into a one-way journey to Minglai, but they still did not give up.

They folded their dragon wings, transforming their massive bodies into aerodynamic javelins, attempting to tear through the defenses with speed and gravity. Their scales, rubbing against the air at extreme speed, even began to glow faintly red, and the dragon breath brewing in their throats made their tips gleam with a destructive light, like real, burning stars falling from the sky.

Minasnir was also among them; as everyone knows, he was Imrek's dragon companion. (End of Chapter)