Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

"Ah."

Dakos pulled out a cigarette case from his pocket, deftly flicking out three cigarettes with his fingertips. He took one for himself and offered the other two to Elisand and Rahil respectively.

With a crisp click of the lighter, the flame flickered, and smoke rose. He slowly exhaled a perfectly round smoke ring, squinted, and looked at the distant commotion.

"Would you like to sit here and relax?"

Elisander, who had never touched tobacco before, took a deep drag and immediately burst into a violent, uncontrollable cough. The sound was extremely strange, with a tearing hoarseness, as if he had traversed a long period of time in an instant and suddenly entered his twilight years; or as if he was trying to use the pungent and burning smoke to cough out all the resentment, grievances, and helplessness that had been accumulating in his chest from the depths of his lungs.

Anyway, it's weird.

Just like this cigarette itself is special, so special that it carries a heavy force, as if it wants to force out one's soul.

Only after Elisander, pale and breathing erratically, regained his composure did he nod heavily. Dakota then turned around and, with Rahil in tow, slowly walked down the ramp of the dock.

He knew perfectly well why Elisander had lost his composure.

The short journey from the Flying Fish Tavern to here was, for this administrator of Caledo, almost a complete and devastating blow.

They walked through the civilian district and saw women and children lined up in neat rows, calmly and steadily receiving standardized rations; they witnessed how the Asur women eagerly pressed their contract marks at the Weavers' recruitment office; and they also saw Duruchi giving systematic basic skills training to the women and children who had already become members.

Furthermore, Darkus effortlessly dismantled the core operating logic of the Fate Weavers along the way.

This entire combo was almost equivalent to four twos with two kings, directly shattering Elisande's previously believed-to-be-impregnable rule. Faced with such organizational power, Caledon's old-fashioned management system, which relied on noble favors and bloodline loyalty, was like primitive people trying to make fire by rubbing sticks together encountering the fusion core of an interstellar civilization.

It's unusually lively here.

The Black Knights and Sea Guards stood in formation to maintain order, with Asur women and children mixed in. Duruchi's army and navy were clearly organized, and the spirit lizards stood restlessly on the shallows. Various groups and armed forces were layered on top of each other, surrounding the entire dock in a dense yet orderly manner.

“They are probably more excited to see me now than to see Asuyan appear in the light.”

It was no exaggeration of Dakos; when he appeared, when his figure truly entered the area, the scene changed in an instant, sending chills down Rahil's spine.

The clamor seemed to be abruptly cut off by an invisible hand.

The civilians who were originally watching, discussing, and moving around suddenly stopped all their movements as if they had been subjected to some kind of group immobilization spell.

Then, like a silent tide, the crowd receded to both sides. Within seconds, the previously impenetrable crowd parted in an extremely orderly fashion, creating a passage. Wherever Dakota passed, the common people, young and old, bowed their heads and bent their backs deeply.

Their eyes held not only fear of power, but also a near-obsessive fanaticism. They gazed at Darkus as if he were the creator who had opened the door to a new world for them and bestowed it all upon them.

This order.

This efficiency of unification, which arose naturally from the bottom up, bypassed aristocratic intermediaries, and reached the highest ruler directly, gave Rahil a chill that ran deep in his bones.

Dakota remained composed, a friendly smile playing on his lips. As he walked, he nodded leisurely to the bowing commoners, his movements as natural as if it were an ordinary part of his daily life. Finally, he passed through the passage cleared by the crowd with almost effortless ease.

However, when they actually passed through the crowd, the scene that came into view made Rahil's already tense expression freeze again, as if he had been frozen in time.

"Is this... some kind of floating bathtub?"

Rahil's voice was unusually dry, and when he spoke, there was even a hint of hesitation and uncertainty, as if he himself was doubting whether his reason was still functioning properly.

"A bathtub?" Darkus was clearly amused by the description, a smile playing on his lips. He then followed up on the conversation, teasingly saying, "You're right, these are indeed several enhanced versions of large bathtubs."

That was cutting-edge equipment that had just come off the assembly line at the Krakarond factory.

After assembly, it was transported to Anaheim via the railway line that runs through the entire Nagarus, and then shipped across the ocean before finally arriving in Lorthen.

The scene presented to the public was extremely comical, yet it also conveyed an indescribable sense of revelry that transcended racial and cultural boundaries.

Chupakoko was intently manipulating one of the bathtubs, his throat emitting suppressed, excited hissing sounds as he pulled the levers. The feathered crest on his head changed dramatically, like a carousel. Tiktato, sitting in the co-pilot's seat, observed the details of the operation closely while also letting out low, wistful hissing sounds in sync with the situation.

Behind them, a group of spirit lizards huddled together, so excited they almost lost their balance, waving their arms and legs. To these creatures from the Ruscia rainforest, the allure of this cold, steel shell surpassed even that of the most magnificent and dangerous primal beasts.

The lizards that couldn't squeeze onto the boat simply swam happily on both sides of the tub, their hands resting on the edge, looking as if they were working together to propel the boat forward, or as if they were being dragged along by this magical tub, having an impromptu surfing experience in the lagoon.

"The Idle Man" Karien was also there, but he didn't squeeze into the same bathtub with the spirit lizards. Instead, he had a tub all to himself, leisurely circling on the water's surface, his posture relaxed, as if it were just a harmless pastime.

On the day of the Battle of Lorthorn, Darkus and Jerian talked about carriages. Today, Jerian and his Sea Guards are already comfortably in another tub. Interestingly, they aren't wearing armor today, but rather light training uniforms, clearly...

The other two bathtubs were controlled by Itaris and Adana respectively, and the cabin was practically full, even slightly overcrowded. The elves' faces displayed a mixture of excitement and anticipation for the new experience, as well as a cautious, almost timid, demeanor.

Many people also put on eye-catching red buoyancy life jackets, making the bathtubs look even more crowded.

Clearly, despite their curiosity about this unprecedented creation, deep down they still harbored lingering doubts about whether this heavy lump of iron could actually float steadily on the water.

Fortunately, these bathtubs were clearly not bumper cars from an amusement park. In this relatively open body of water, the five boats maintained a subtle and tacit distance, gliding across the surface lightly and steadily without interfering with each other.

Karien was the first to notice the movement on the shore, and when he recognized Darkus, he straightened up gracefully. Darkus casually waved to him, and he immediately and skillfully turned the steering wheel.

So, the bathtub, which had been swimming steadily, drew an elegant and smooth arc on the water's surface and slowly changed direction.

A sea turtle successfully entered the water!
No, it was a walrus that swam ashore.

With a deep, resonant roar from the engine, the black steel bathtub steadily glided away from the lagoon along the specially laid incline. Water droplets dripped continuously from the hull's edge, splashing softly on the ground.

Finally, it came to a steady stop in front of Darkus and Rahil.

"bathtub……"

Darkus extended his left hand, his fingertips lightly tapping the still-dripping steel monster. He looked at Rahil with his signature nonchalant, mocking expression. Without waiting for the Caledonian general to fully recover from his near-petrified state, he strode towards the so-called bathtub.

"how do you feel?"

He casually patted the steel car body, his palm making a dull, solid sound as it touched the metal.

"Lyma, this thing is absolutely amazing!"

Karien was unusually excited, with an almost undisguised pure fervor that only appears when discovering a new toy, as if he were on fire.

Dakos simply shook his head and didn't reply.

What else could he say? That you're still too young and haven't seen enough?
These words are rather discouraging.

A bathtub is not a bathtub.

It is a vehicle.

That is, a car.

For Dakos, the vehicle's design was quite peculiar. At first glance, it bore a resemblance to the Type 166 amphibious tanker; upon closer inspection, its rugged lines and side-mounted fuel tanks subtly revealed the wild beauty unique to the AS42 armed reconnaissance vehicle.

After exchanging a few casual words with Kalien, Darkus began to walk around the car body, carefully examining the finished product that was still in the experimental stage.

The vehicle is constructed entirely of steel, with clean and direct lines. To ensure stable buoyancy on the water, all moving parts of the propulsion system are sealed to the vehicle body using thick rubber rings. There are no doors on either side of the vehicle; this almost brutally integrated design greatly enhances overall watertightness. Getting in and out is only possible via a foot pedal, with the mudguard integrated into the pedal, its height precisely positioned near the waterline—a clean and crisp appearance, yet undeniably exuding a raw, mechanical brutality.

He walked to the back of the car.

The hood is fixed to the body via a hinged structure and is supported by springs when open. The latch is a sleek and direct quick-lock design. The most eye-catching feature is the unusually thick propeller at the rear of the vehicle, which is operated via a lever inside the car.

At this moment, it had been put away by Kallien, and it looked like a fish tail that had been gathered up.

The front bumper connects to the left and right mudguards, serving not only as a collision protection function but also outlining an almost provocative and aggressive stance. The mudguards are designed to reduce drag during underwater travel, with a front and rear open structure. This design is certainly advantageous on water, but Dakos could tell at a glance that once in muddy terrain, these mudguards would likely be completely blocked by the mud, unable to move. Only the front of the vehicle has a windshield, and the pull-out folding roof is slightly retracted in the sunlight. A spare tire, supported by a claw-shaped wheel hub, is conspicuously fixed at the front, like a deliberately displayed medal of honor.

What makes this vehicle resemble an AS42 most is its side-mounted layout. The shovel and oar are fixed on the left, while the toolbox is located on the right; below these tools, five 20-liter fuel cans painted black are neatly arranged. Adding the two on the front fenders, this vehicle carries a total of 280 liters of fuel when on the move.

These oil drums have an extremely classic design, which is the Santoko design that Dakos created (or copied) from memory.

Considering that elves are generally around 1.9 meters tall, the overall size of this vehicle has been significantly enlarged proportionally. It is 5.6 meters long and 2.3 meters wide, resembling a silent and patient steel behemoth.

"The first batch of goods will focus on original products."

Dakos pursed his lips, his tone carrying an undisguised disdain, yet also a sense of resignation to the situation.

Aside from the relatively fine leather upholstery on the seats, this vehicle has virtually no superfluous interior features. There's no tow hook, no winch, no armrests, and the dashboard is so rudimentary it looks like a brick carelessly slapped on. License plates, headlights, wipers, and even taillights are all absent. The only device that could barely be considered an aid to visibility is a solitary left rearview mirror.

He even began to suspect that this thing didn't even have a horn.

But none of that matters. What's important is that the elf has taken the first step from nothing to something.

Once this step is taken, everything else will be easier to discuss.

This was also the mission of pioneers like Karlion: to push every part to its limits in real-world use, and then write down every problem, defect, and possibility in a thick test report, along with suggestions for improvement.

Rahil stood on the shore, watching the steel behemoth that had just crawled out of the lagoon, still dripping water, and then his gaze drifted unconsciously to the neatly arranged oil drums hanging on their sides. He suddenly realized that this thing didn't need the stamina of a dragon, nor the incantations of a mage; just feed it a little something, and it could carry warriors across…

"Get in! You sit in the back."

Darkus had already circled the steel monster twice when he casually called out to Rahil, who was still staring blankly at the car. Before he finished speaking, Rahil braced himself against the side with one hand, and with a swift movement, flipped himself cleanly and landed steadily in the passenger seat.

The space design of this car takes into full account the tall and large size of the Elf.

The spacious double-row seats can comfortably accommodate five adult elves. If comfort is not a concern, four people could squeeze into the back row without any problem; if the luggage compartment is cleared, four people could even sit on the hood with their feet tucked into the gap.

To take it a step further, it's not impossible to hang people on the left or right sides.

In the face of such a purely pragmatic creation, any constraints on elegance are brutally and thoroughly torn apart.

Of course, it's not recommended to do it this way.

This vehicle was originally designed as an all-terrain vehicle, capable of driving in cities, traversing broken roads, and navigating grasslands and deserts with ease, and it can even be used for amphibious wading.

After all, the current infrastructure conditions are what they are, and reality doesn't allow them to be picky.

As for the idea of ​​removing the seat and replacing it with a small crossbow, it's not even worth discussing. The protection is inadequate, and the power is even worse; let's wait until after a few more iterations before considering it.

"I think I've finally found my new place."

Karien gripped the cold metal lever, his tone half-joking and half-serious.

Darkus didn't respond verbally, but merely gave him a knowing, amused look. He knew perfectly well what Karien was talking about—Kalien was ready to be his driver.

As Kallian pulled the lever, the engine roared out from the rear of the car with a thunderous roar. The entire car shuddered, its steel structure resonating deeply, and then it surged forward steadily and powerfully.

Darkus stood up in the moving vehicle with an extremely flamboyant air, gripping the windshield frame with one hand and waving the other in an almost inspection-like arc. This gesture instantly ignited the already frenzied atmosphere in the dock area, and the civilians, soldiers, and even the spirit lizards who had been watching all erupted into a deafening roar of cheers.

Amidst the clamor that surged like waves, Rahil, sitting in the back, seemed utterly out of place. He huddled in the spacious back seat, leaning slightly forward, as awkward as Fañol, a newcomer to the city who didn't know what to do with his hands and feet.

He kept his head down, his gaze wandering, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the delicate yet unusually tough leather seat repeatedly. Compared to the ornate carriages he had ridden in the past, adorned with gold ornaments and padded with thick velvet, this seat offered no warmth or flattery, but rather exuded a cold logic of standardization.

It does not change because of status, nor does it compromise because of rank.

As a general who had commanded troops for many years, he vaguely touched upon the most terrifying and deadly core of this new order through this constantly shaking and roaring vehicle: the desire for change.

In Caledor, the dragon princes have steadfastly adhered to sacred and immutable doctrines for generations, allowing everything to slowly erode through rituals and bloodlines until it withers away. Yet these Duruchs before them, and those corrupted Lor'thun's, can tolerate this ugly, crude, and utterly devoid of beauty iron box, simply because it runs faster, because it can disregard the boundaries between sea and land.

This almost pathological pursuit of usefulness is silently erasing the sanctity of social class itself.

If a farmer could gain the mobility of a dragon prince riding a warhorse simply by learning how to move levers and control pull rods, then how much meaning would Caledon's system of loyalty, built on a slow pace, rituals, and bloodline worship, remain?

He felt the continuous vibrations from the wheels rolling over the uneven road surface; each subtle yet persistent bump felt like a death knell tolling for the Kingdom of Caledon.

This is not merely a vehicle, but a plague woven from steel, fuel, and ambition. It is crushing the last remaining illusions of the old world at a speed that even a Caledonian warhorse could never catch.

The most tragic thing is that he was powerless to change it.

He even vaguely sensed that he was actually... starting to like this feeling?
"Do you know why Finnubar chose to send an envoy to Elsin Alvin? You know, before him, there was a group of envoys, and their fates were not good."

After Ellesander got into the car, Dakos turned halfway around, casually draped his arm over the back of the seat, and spoke in a tone that sounded like he was chatting, but was clearly deliberately leading the conversation.

Finnubal was not the first Ulthuan envoy to arrive in Azsorlos. At that time, Ulthuan had sent envoys to try to improve relations between the two sides, but they were dismissively rejected by Ariel, who then imprisoned the Azsul envoys in the wilderness.

Unlike the Asleys, the Assur lacked forest instincts. They were trapped in the forest for many years, but eventually escaped, just like Dacha. However, their good fortune ended when they encountered the Bretonnian army attacking Astolouren. Having the same faces as the Asleys, they were burned alive, tied to a fire, just as humans treated witches…

"For you to meet him, for the convergence of destinies!"

Karien, who was intently fiddling with the heavy joystick, suddenly interjected, his tone light and almost casual.

This sarcastic, dark humor caused a momentary pause in the air inside the car. Then, Darkus burst into unrestrained, hearty laughter, giving Karien a heavy punch on the shoulder; the steel and the laughter echoed together in the confined space.

However, amidst the continuous roar of the engine and that almost unrestrained laughter, Alessand slowly lowered his head. His gaze lingered on his cuffs, as if confirming some order that still existed but had begun to crumble. His voice was hoarse, yet unusually resolute, uttering only one word.

"Seek change."

The moment that word fell, it was like an invisible thunderclap, exploding in the cramped carriage, briefly drowning out the sound of the wind, the roar of the engine, and the lingering laughter.

Elisander raised his head, his gaze passing over Dakos's shoulder to the receding street scene in the distance. At this moment, he realized with absolute certainty that Finnubar's mission was not a spur-of-the-moment diplomatic adventure, but a near-self-destructive act of sabotage.

Because in Ausuan, the old logic is dead.

“Caldor always believed that as long as we held onto the mountains and the dragons, time would be on our side.” Alessand smiled bitterly, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the cold, hard metal of the car beside him, his tone low but clear, “But Finnubal saw that fire, and he understood that if Asur did not seek change, he would only cling to those outdated prides and turn to ashes.”

Seeking change means tearing down the rituals and laws established by our ancestors with our own hands;

Seeking change means, like Finnubar, setting aside pride and embracing the unknown.

This is an extremely painful evolution.

However, Finubal did it despite the cynicism and indifference of the conservatives.

Elisande turned to look at Rahil, then at Darkus. He knew very well that Caledo's true enemy was no longer Duruchi himself, but the will for change that had swept across all of Ulthuan and was powerful enough to crush the past into pieces.

The car's power is very weak.

In theory, the speed limit on a highway is only 40 km/h.

There's nothing we can do about it; they're the first batch after all, so we have to understand.

This is also why Darkus didn't want to drive it himself, and why he thought Calien was too young and had too little experience.

The car bumped along, stopping and starting, chatting and looking around, until it finally entered the aristocratic district and slowly came to a stop in front of the observation deck. (End of Chapter)