Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

Like Bellorda, Fenrir also knew what the Shaper Engine was for. He explained it in a calm and restrained tone, as if he were just describing an ordinary tool, but the occasional glint in his eyes still revealed his awe of this creation.

"magic!"

The Shaping Engine – an ancient creation capable of reshaping landscapes, altering the course of mountains and rivers, turning barren lands into fertile fields, or transforming fertile plains into wastelands.

Berlanal's voice was filled with genuine amazement.

The exclamation escaped almost without thinking, and as the words fell, his gaze deepened, as if an invisible veil had been drawn behind him. His thoughts had broken free from the context of the moment, piercing through the harbor before him, through the clear skies of Ausuan, and heading towards a more distant, more private landscape of his mind, racing along another hidden path.

Spring Rain Stone.

This thought, like a drop of cold water, fell into his still-boiling sea of ​​imagination, stirring up ripples that were fine and clear.

in case……

What if the proactive and fundamental landform reshaping capabilities of the Shaping Engine could be combined with the water-generating properties of Spring Rain Stone?

His thoughts, like a runaway lizard, raced, climbed, and tumbled in the depths of his mind, rushing toward one unbelievable direction after another—the reshaping of river networks, the revival of dried-up lands, the reappearance of inland lakes, and even... more grand transformations.

His heart skipped a beat silently. He didn't voice these thoughts, nor did he let any emotion show on his face. But deep within his dark pupils, something both cold and fiery was quietly taking shape.

"That was the Sun City Honor Guard just now. Only the guards of the oldest temple are worthy of the glorious task of protecting the Slan priests." On the other side, Darkus calmly explained to Newkel and Ossiyotan.

"The Temple Guard of the Mist City." After explaining the Shaper Engine, Fenrell steered the conversation toward the Temple Guards who were walking behind the five Ankylosaurus.

This temple guard is an ancient lineage dating back to the Great Invasion.

The thick, mottled scales covering the warriors' bodies shimmered in the sunlight, displaying varying shades of dark sheen. Deep, crisscrossing scars left indelible marks on the scales and armor. Their helmets and decorative halberds were often damaged, their edges dulled and worn, bearing the marks of time and war. The lizardmen did not see these as signs of decay or neglect, but rather as symbols of honor and glory.

Every crack is a silent inscription of past battles.

They fought from the very beginning of the Great Invasion until the very last moment of its end.

Unfortunately, they failed in their duty at the last moment. (They were killed off by the plot.)
The appearance of the Temple Guard from the City of Mist in Lorthorn is, naturally...

“Whoosh, the third generation Slan Priest.” Darkus introduced himself after feeling Oseotan’s finger lightly tap his arm.

This was something he had agreed upon with Ossiyotan beforehand.

When Ossiyotan sees a new face, he only needs to touch it with his finger to indicate it, and Ossiyotan will then explain. Of course, even if Ossiyotan doesn't remind him, he will introduce each elf to the others.

In such a situation, there is no room for ambiguity.

Revitalizing Osuan is a massive and arduous undertaking. Mazdamudi and Adohshi Tehega alone are far from sufficient.

As a relatively active entity, Lord Hua-Hua naturally couldn't be absent from such a large-scale event.

Like Mazdamudi, Hua-hua also opened his eyes. Those calm and deep eyes slowly turned towards the direction where Kachowin was, as if scrutinizing, or as if confirming the accuracy of some arrangement.

Behind the whooshing sound, there were five more ankylosaurs.

Like the previous five ankylosaurs, these five behemoths also carried Shaper Engines on their backs.

Darkus's eyes lit up.

It wasn't because of the Shaper Engine, but because he knew all five Ankylosaurus. He had walked alongside them, and they had left an indelible mark on his life.

He smiled, raised his hand, and waved at the five ankylosaurs.

Sensing his presence, the ankylosaurs swung their heavy, battering ram-like tails. But that was all; they didn't lose their composure, nor did they charge at him like large dogs wagging their tails. They maintained their steady, massive, and unshakeable marching rhythm.

The elves' gazes gradually turned to the giant beast behind the ankylosaur.

The soldiers stared at the colossal creature, their eyes filled with assessment and scrutiny, calculating its size, stride, and muscle definition, imagining how they would dodge and how they would close the distance in the event of a confrontation, imagining...

They silently confronted it in their hearts, both wary and secretly admiring it.

The spellcasters, however, focused their attention on the device on the back of the behemoth.

“My advisor,” Darkus said softly, his tone as calm as if he were introducing an ordinary attendant rather than a behemoth capable of crushing city gates.

“It?” Newkel was taken aback for a moment.

He followed Darkus's gaze, his eyes lingering for a moment between the colossal creature's scales and the flowing energy. Having received confirmation, he reached out, pointed at the beast, and reaffirmed.

Yes, him.

After receiving Darkus's affirmative reply, Newkel shook his head, revealing a completely speechless expression. His eyebrows twitched slightly, and his lips twitched, but that was all. He had lived for over five thousand years, witnessing far too many inconceivable beings, absurd prophecies, and miracles that defied common sense. And the strangest thing was none other than Darkus, standing right beside him.

Since Dakous, who serves as the benchmark, has said so, there must be a reason behind it!

Then, he raised his arm and pointed to the device floating on the back of the giant beast.

"what is that?"

"future!"

“The future…” Newkel muttered to himself, his forced composure finally crumbling. He let out a laugh tinged with a mixture of mockery and helplessness, “One future after another, one future after another, one future after another, the previous future…”

After venting his frustrations, he composed himself, his expression suddenly becoming solemn, as if he were making a silent affirmation of himself.

"Yes, the future!"

As I said before, if Dakous, who is the benchmark, says this, then there must be a reason behind Dakous's statement!
Dakos never let him down.

That colossal beast was none other than Darkus's advisor—the Arcane Dragon, the Eye of the Storm. At this moment, its massive body moved steadily forward, energy subtly coursing through its scales. However, what now rested upon it was not the Eternal Radiance Celestial Instrument, but a completely different device.

The device is described as being on the "back" rather than "on the back" because it is not fixed to the Eye of the Storm's spine like the Eternal Radiance Celestial Instrument. It floats, precisely hovering above the behemoth, maintaining a constant distance. No matter how the Eye of the Storm steps, breathes, or sways its body slightly, the device seems to be locked onto some invisible coordinate, remaining static in relative space.

Light refracts and overlaps between structures, forming a geometric order that is both precise and almost divine.

"Did you understand?" Dais stared at the levitation device for a moment, his gaze scanning the structure repeatedly before turning to look at Miel, who was standing behind him.

High Forge Priest Miel was the Vaal leader on whom Asul placed great hopes, responsible for the operation of the sacred Vaal Anvil. But during the Vaal War, he, like Kotek during the Great Sundering, brazenly betrayed Asul and broke his oath.

Faith triumphed...

Now, he serves by Dais's side.

Upon hearing Daisy's question, Miel slowly opened her eyes. There was no response in her eyes, only hesitation and gravity.

When the device came into view, his breathing paused almost imperceptibly. The next moment, he entered a meditative state, his consciousness sinking, perceiving through the manipulation of his body and spirit.

It controls the body through the spirit, and has three effects.

The first level is to achieve the biological characteristic of painlessness and immunity to the negative effects of pain, so that the limits of the body are no longer a constraint on the will.

The second level is divine vision, which allows one to perceive the outlines of objects or creatures, but not to discern colors, expressions, or details—except for handcrafted items, of course. Normally, this level is not subject to a penalty for blindness during inspection and is immune to the state of blindness.

but now……

He has regained his sight.

The third level ignores the penalty for serious injury during continuous checks, thus having an amplifying effect. Of course, this requires the use of other spells, such as Celestial Wisdom.

Celestial Steel Wisdom is a secondary spell, a sacred art of forging non-magical items from Yseramar silver. But for someone like Miel, its significance goes far beyond that. By overloading himself while blinded, controlling his spirit, and wielding Celestial Steel Wisdom, he can even weaken Yseramar silver artifacts in an instant, rendering them as fragile as withered wood.

Sword-slaying technique!
Yes, it's a familiar topic: what happens when metal, armor, and weapons face a spellcaster wielding the power of divine intervention...

However, in Miel's perception at this moment, the structure and energy distribution of this device far exceeded anything he had ever encountered before. It was too exquisite, too complex, with nested layers and a near-closed loop of power circulation.

He remained silent for a few moments before slowly speaking.

"I need to perform Vaal Touch."

Vaal Touch not only makes a handcrafted item visually appealing, but also allows one to deeply perceive its internal structure, magical runes, and the intentions behind its creation. It is a touch that is both technical and sacred.

"There will be an opportunity later." Dais smiled, his tone calm but meaningful.

Unlike Miel, he understood it immediately and was even able to work backwards. Those intersecting trajectories and the energy loops between the suspended structures were not puzzles to him, but rather blueprints yet to be fully unfolded. His gaze lingered on the device for a moment, as if tracing back each step of its creation along the other's logic.

“Another path, a completely new path.” After his smile faded, he slowly sighed, his tone not one of surprise, but of certainty, as if a door had been pushed open and he could already see the steps behind it.

Like Miel, Des also regained his sight. To be precise, it was Des who ordered and led the restoration of sight.

As he stated, the Wales have now embarked on a completely new path. Whether they continue down this path or expand the Wales' influence, restoring sight is a necessary step.

Blindness, once a symbol of piety, has now become an obstacle to efficiency and expansion.

During this period, he led the believers active in Lorthene to conduct in-depth research and upgrades on vehicle engines and transmissions. Unlike the simple structures and purely functional magical weapons, armor, props, and chariots of the past, engines and transmissions require a large number of precision parts, matching blueprints and parameter calculations, and require collaboration and division of labor.

It was no longer a solitary craftsman's gaze upon fire and metal, but a systematic engineering process.

Of course, every advantage has its disadvantages.

The Vale sect's system emphasizes "sacrifice".

Some Vaal spells require a sacrifice to gain the Overload effect.

Blindness is a form of permanent sacrifice.

If you are blind, you can directly obtain the overload effect; if you are not blind, you must first bear the cost of blindness before you can access the overload gate.

The Vaal Touch that Miel mentioned is more like a magic trick, an introductory spell of Vaal magic that requires no sacrifice. But once you delve deeper, such as with Perfect Fire, you must pay a price.

Perfect Fire summons the perfectionism of the Vaal, forging flawless magical items. If this spell targets a magical item in the process of being crafted, it ignores all defects, quirks, or curses that may arise during the crafting process.

But this process requires sacrifices.

He needs to go blind.

Tianjin Steel Intelligence is no exception.

This is why the main force of the Vaal sect has always been blacksmith priests, while novice blacksmith priests can only assist. The former bear the sacrifices and the consequences; the latter are responsible for learning and assisting.

Instead of contract workers or temporary workers, they are permanent employees...

Perhaps this is the benefit of a world with God?

To put it bluntly, the Val priests are changing careers.

They transformed from mere craftsmen of magical artifacts into engineers, artisans, and workers. The barriers were lowered, processes were broken down, and abilities were modularized.

Of course, this doesn't mean that Vaal priests have lost the ability to forge magical items; it simply means they are adjusting and reconstructing Vaal spells. Moreover, the neighboring Hoth magic system can also forge magical items (Chapter 795).

And with the appearance of this device...

The drawbacks, well, they don't really seem like drawbacks anymore?

Because times have changed.

Everything has changed!

Following behind the Eye of the Storm were the temple guards from Itazar. Their heavy, rhythmic footsteps echoed the ancient city. Darkus's old acquaintance—the third Slan Priest, Lord Slot—had also arrived. Just then, the third part: the core—'The Fugue of the Conjunction of Two Moons'—resonated throughout.

The reason it's described as a "double moon conjunction" rather than a "double sun" is because...

For some reason, Kadjohn had a strange feeling. He constantly felt that he was being watched and measured. It seemed that every Sran priest's gaze lingered on him for a moment. It wasn't hostility, nor approval, but a scrutiny that transcended the individual.

Of course, this "double moon" does not refer to the two celestial bodies hanging in the night sky.

As the strings, wind instruments, and glockenspiel resounded with extreme restraint and precision, the elven spellcasters ceased their mere observation. They were no longer bystanders, but joined in the chorus.

They did not chant lyrics.

What they chanted were vowel syllables calculated in complex ways, simulating the acoustic structure of basic geometric shapes and celestial orbits. Each elongated syllable was an echo of an orbital shift; each overlap was a simulation of resonance.

This was not a performance for Shi Lan to "hear".

Instead, it shows Slane the elves' understanding of order, harmonics, and the beauty of the mathematics of the universe.

The musical structure employs a rigorous polyphonic fugue, with different voices chasing, imitating, and overlapping each other, symbolizing the parallel and convergence of different civilizational trajectories. The harmony strives for purity and stability, deliberately avoiding emotional fluctuations, in order to align with the 'calm framework' represented by Slam.

The elven spellcasters briefly attached the fluctuations of their souls and their magical chants to the 'smooth field' created by Sran's spiritual pressure. It was a near-frictionless mental space, like vines clinging to an ancient tree, allowing music to grow, bend, and transform within it.

The tone became ethereal, clear to the point of being almost sacred.

This is the intersection of art.

It is also a demonstration of the way the elves exist.

Behind Lord Slot was a procession of ancient Triceratops and Ankylosaurus. The behemoths moved with steady steps, their scales gleaming with a heavy, ancient luster in the sunlight. On their backs lay various ancient creations—some with complex structures, their runes intertwined and flowing; others with simple forms, yet faintly emanating suppressed energy fluctuations.

Between the devices stood the spirit lizards responsible for operating them. Unlike usual, they were not lively and playful, but rather focused and calm, as if they were simply performing routine maintenance on a project spanning an era.

After all, they're here for diplomatic purposes.

A large group coming is pointless; if too few come, the elves will probably just think, "Is that all?"
Therefore, the main focus is on the essence.

Neither extravagant nor restrained, it precisely showcases profound knowledge and power. The ancient creations, whether used in combat, for support, or both, are the most direct and convincing display.

It needs no words; it carries its own weight.

It wasn't just Lord Slot who came.

After the procession of Old One creations slowly passed by, seven more fourth and fifth generation Sran priests appeared. These included Tepek-Inzi, who had once wreaked havoc on Nagarus and escaped unscathed; Simo'she, who shone brightly in the next era (the tallest among the short); as well as Kurkori, Rumku, Nooktara, Kurekor, and Quekos.

Without exception, these Slams all came from Itaza.

As the fourth part, "The Ceremony Concludes - The Single Melody of the Dawn of New Life," resounded, the Moon City team, walking at the very back, appeared.

Part Four returns to simplicity.

There are no complex polyphonies, no rigorous structural pursuits, only solo vocals.

The Executor is recognized as the purest elf, most closely connected to the soul and the winds of magic.

Without a doubt, this person is the leader of the Hoss Cult and the Supreme Spellsword—Belanar.

He took a step forward, the wind brushing past the edge of his cloak, and the music stopped. Then, that extremely simple yet soul-stirring ancient melody was slowly sung.

The lyrics are about "remembering", "beginning" and "the witness of the stars".

Its tone is clear, like melting snow in early spring, gliding down from the mountaintop and through the forest and rocky valley.

It does not seek to be shocking, nor does it compete to be superior.

Its aim is to penetrate all shock and pressure, reaching the depths of the hearts of every living being present, giving this moment a clear, solemn, and hopeful emotional footnote.

It not only showcases the pinnacle of elven civilization's achievements, but also humbly acknowledges the existence of a higher order and bravely attempts to establish its first, non-violent, and aesthetic connection with it.

The music itself will become part of the legend.

“foundation…”

"I'm watching the ceremony," Modax said in a low voice, his voice filled with melancholy and disappointment.

"We have wasted too much time, too many disputes, disagreements... and killings."

As Springtwin's poetic tone faded, both the red dragon and the fire dragon nodded in unison.

Not far away, a conversation was also unfolding.

"Who are you looking for?" Finnubal asked first, his tone calm, then mimicking Darkus's tone, he added, "Sorry," he nodded toward the lizardmen's ranks, "you know."

“It’s nothing…” Azsya opened her mouth to speak, her lips changing shape several times, but in the end it turned into a sigh.

“Some things…” Finnubal nodded, then shrugged, a gesture that conveyed both understanding and helplessness.

“I know.” Azsya nodded forlornly, her gaze briefly lowered.

Finnubar didn't respond immediately, but instead turned to carefully observe Azsya's expression. It was a familiar noble face, restrained, refined, yet unable to conceal anxiety. Ultimately, true to his nature, he ended the conversation.

"It takes time for goods to appear on the shelves. And you can also expand your space; once new land is developed, you can lease it, right?"

The tone was not harsh; rather, it carried a realistic gentleness.

Azsya nodded again.

Seeing him nod, Finnubar nodded as well. Then, he turned his gaze back to the lizardmen's marching procession.

His expression was calm.

But inside, things were turbulent.

Azsya, like him, was a nobleman. His territory was located in the southeast of the Kingdom of Itien, and his family had been in the wine business for generations. Besides regular wines, they also dealt in some unusual varieties, such as the renowned Narenocha.

Narinocha wine has a rather legendary history. (Chapter 784)
During the reign of the fifth Phoenix King, the Peacemaker, Caladrell, the renowned Archmage Evan Thornwhisperer, in an experiment attempting to control the winds of Giron, accidentally transformed into a Narenochar plant—yes, his entire body became plant-like, completely losing his human form. Seven hundred and fifty years later, Lyssil Greydawn successfully freed him from his slumber, awakening the sleeping Evan.

Afterwards, the two archmages combined their respective understandings of nature and magic to create this wine fermented from Narenocha pods. It is widely popular in Ulthuan, considered a "unique choice among the refined," and is one of the few "relaxation-only" wines recognized by Asul.

And among them, Lysil Graydawn is the ancestor of Azssia.

But even the aging and fermentation of wine cannot remain unaffected by such a turning point in history.

Finnubar knew that Azsya's appearance in Lorthorn was simply due to the current situation, the emergence of the Weavers, and the resurvey of the land, which had disturbed the originally peaceful borders and ledgers.

To be precise, the changes have begun to affect the interests of some of the traditional nobles in the Kingdom of Itien. Those lands, channels, and concessions that have been passed down through generations are now being remeasured, renamed, and replanned.

As for Finnubar, the current supreme leader of Asur, and given their past friendship, Azsya, as his representative, would naturally come to him.

We can't exactly go to Darkus, can we?

Finnubar was disgusted by this.

But he had no choice.

He has to deal with it.

He had said what he needed to say, his tone gentle yet clear. What he truly hoped for was that Azsya would listen, grasp the meaning behind those hints, and take the initiative to make changes.

otherwise……

Finnubar suddenly sighed.

In his view, Darkus's political maneuvering was undoubtedly brilliant. The moves were seemingly gentle, yet in reality, they were a series of calculated advances. Perhaps, he shouldn't have sent Bel-Aihor to the continent of Lustria in the first place?

When his son became the leader of the Weavers' Society, the situation was no longer just a matter of policy, but also a matter of blood ties.

As a father, he has no reason not to be a strong shield for his son.

Of course, it is one of them.

His son, Dakota, also had another shield—Darkus.

This thought briefly complicated Finnubar's gaze. Power and kinship were intertwined, far more difficult to unravel than simple politics. He understood what Dakos had meant during that breakfast meeting.

Then, he looked back at the lizardmen's line.

In his eyes, this was a card.

A card that is extremely important, but cannot be played now.

Unfortunately, there's nothing we can do about it.

Revitalizing Ausuan is a complex undertaking, involving not only political and economic restructuring but also the reweaving of spiritual energy and the environment.

It requires the intervention of the Sran priests.

As Dakota said—the left foot trips the right.

The lizardmen's formations are carefully planned.

Mazdamudi was in the lead, so Adohshi Tehega had to be in the back.

One represents the sun, and the other represents the moon.

One represents Kotego, and the other represents Lazcoto.

The beginning and end echo each other, and the day and night are symmetrical; the symbolism is not decoration, but structure.

As Adosi Tehga slowly disappeared into the distance, the ceremony came to an end. The lingering music still echoed in the air, and a gentle sea breeze was blowing, but the solemnity and oppression of the previous atmosphere had vanished.

Daxus, carrying Ossiyotan, led the leaders of the elves and dragons to catch up with the procession and arrived at the foot of the mountain.

The stone steps extend upwards, and the queue casts distinct silhouettes on the slope.

Soon, he put Ossiyotan down.

The next moment, he leaped onto Master Ma's palanquin and took the items Master Ma handed him.

He struck an almost exaggerated pose, his feet resting on the armrests of the palanquin, his body leaning forward, his robes billowing in the wind. His hand, holding the crystal, was raised high. The crystal refracted dazzling sunlight, light flowing within it like imprisoned stars.

He looked around.

The eyes of the elves, the lizardmen, and the dragons met at that moment.

Then his voice rang out, clear and powerful, carrying an undeniable declaration.

The future has arrived!

(It might not be available tomorrow; I need to go to the hospital for a checkup.) (End of Chapter)