Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

Although there are no suitable targets for chopping in the square, it is still possible to try it out.

As a result, Kalien was left speechless with despair.

He swung the dragon tendon whip at Kadjoin, and the whip, made of black dragon tendon, was severed in the next second.

He had carried this dragon tendon whip with him ever since he became a beast tamer; it held great sentimental value and was also very practical. In Obian, because of this whip, he didn't receive a new one, but instead received the Owl Crossbow.

This left Darkus and Rein with no choice but to keep comforting him, offering words of comfort such as "out with the old, in with the new" and "look to the future."

Of course, it wasn't just Kallien's dragon whip that was damaged; Kulve Taroth's arm armor was also cut. Although Kulve Taroth's power armor was very sturdy and had magical protection, it was ultimately outdated, a product of the previous generation.

However, the destruction of the arm armor involves a long process and mechanism.

Commander Kuznets did not activate the magical protection of his power armor, nor did Kadjohn activate his flashlight.

The ultimate, pure physical combat.

Commander Ku stood there with his arms raised, while Kadjohn, wielding a broadsword, pressed the broadsword against his arm armor after activating the chain blade. The whole scene looked like they were chopping wood with a chainsaw.

Later, General Ku's Divine Taranxla Spear and Chupakoko's Divine Zongqi Sword were also added to the testing. The good news is that the Divine weapons are not outdated, but that's all they are.

The style of the test has changed; it has become a contest of strength.

Because of the immense strength of the commander, the spear withstood the chainsaw's attack, resulting in the broadsword breaking apart. Kadjohn was forced to retreat three steps before regaining his balance, blood flowing from his hand.

Next up is Kaczone's time.

As Raine wielded the Divine Sword of the Origin, the weapon slipped from his hand the instant he slashed at the broadsword; due to the characteristics of the trident, Darkus did not lose his weapon, but he had to take several steps back to stabilize himself from the massive recoil.

During the testing, Ashdaron and his wife Calledal, who had nothing better to do, strolled over. Ashdaron, eager to try, looked like he was about to transform back into a dragon and have Kadjohn cut off the hardest scale on his heart.

But he was eventually persuaded by the crowd to stop, though Ashdalon still transformed back into a dragon and flew away. When he returned, he brought with him a piece of armor plate that had shone brightly on the day of the Battle of Lor'then.

Then, the spear pierced the shield.

But that's about it.

It took the broadblade a long time to cut through the armor, but it didn't cut through completely.

There's a certain beauty in the way handheld cutting machines and saws cut through tanks.

If this were real combat, the user of the broadsword would have died eight hundred times over. It has no practical significance at all; they are not even in the same league.

Then Renn summoned a Black Knight and ordered him to remove his breastplate. It turned out that this traditionally crafted armor offered no protection against the chainmail blades, possessing only the aesthetic appeal of studio-style armor.

It was cut in two in a single glance.

The testing is now complete.

Aside from running out of fuel, the only other possibility is that the next test would turn into a magical-physical confrontation. Besides, there's nothing left to test; the temple guard's halberd, the black knight's weapon, and the cut-open breastplate were all made using the same craftsmanship.

After discussion, everyone came to a conclusion—they would get the power armor manufactured using the new technology!

In addition to enhancing defense, it also provides power.

As evening fell, Darkus chose to stay, soaking in a pool with the Slans, talking and communicating telepathically. The warm, slightly mineral-scented water rippled gently around them, occasionally creating tiny ripples, as if responding to their silent yet vast exchange of thoughts.

Some communication is without language, yet clearer than language itself; concepts, diagrams, deductions, and hypotheses flow back and forth between consciousness. He didn't fall asleep until late into the night.

I slept very well.

It was safe here, a feeling of home, a sense of security not from the walls or the roof, but from some deeper order. The surroundings were quiet and secure, as if even the air itself was under some vast and gentle protection. He slept soundly, his breathing slow and even, and didn't wake until noon.

Upon reaching the square, he stopped and rubbed his eyes vigorously. He pressed his knuckles against his eye sockets, then released them, as if to confirm that his retina wasn't deceiving him.

You read that right.

The square has changed.

Overnight...

No, to be precise, in just one morning, this once empty and flat stone square has now become some kind of... spectacle? The originally neatly laid stone slabs are now occupied by various temporary structures and machinery, the space has been re-divided, and the order has taken on a different form.

One tent on the left, one tent on the right. One device in front, one device behind.

In the distance, horse-drawn carriages and trucks were parked, the horses impatiently swishing their tails. Wooden wheels and rubber wheels were parked side by side, as if two different eras of transportation had been forcibly squeezed into the same scene.

Not to mention the people, it was a scene of great fanfare...

Dakos stood there, blinked, then blinked again.

He felt he might not be fully awake yet.

But after thinking about it, I realized that this is indeed the best place—convenient and centralized. Any new ideas can be tested just a few steps away.

After passing two tents and three devices whose purpose was unclear, he saw the familiar group.

Lord Ados-Tehga's massive body stood there as still as a moving mountain. Before him floated a vast screen of light, upon which flowed geometric patterns that Darkus could not decipher at all. These patterns constantly generated, folded, disassembled, and recombine, like a growing star map.

Serene stood to the left of the light screen, a pen in her hand, rapidly recording something as the graphics changed. The pen tip flew across the paper, making a soft scratching sound, her eyes barely blinking, as if chasing fleeting structural logic.

Bellorda stood on the right, arms crossed, her gaze focused. She nodded occasionally, then frowned, as if repeatedly verifying a certain deduction in her mind.

Next to the three people was a device with a design so simple it was almost rudimentary.

Darkus walked over and found a place to stand among the three. He had barely settled in, and before he could even ask, "What is this?", something was shoved into his hand.

Bellorda handed it to me.

A breastplate.

Ceramic breastplate.

Darkus looked down at the thin, almost transparent, milky-white object in his hand, his brows slightly raised. Light reflected through its surface in a soft, misty way, the edges so thin they were almost like a sheet of ice.

He had seen ceramics, used ceramics, and even broken countless ceramics, but those were all plates, cups, vases, or decorations.

It was never armor.

He weighed it in his hand.

light.

Very light.

It was so light that he even suspected Bellorda had handed it to the wrong person. This thing was practically weightless in his hand, even lighter than a leather suit of the same size. If he closed his eyes, he might even think he was holding a solidified cloud, or a flattened ball of light.

“This…” He raised his head and looked at the three people in front of him.

Serene wore a complex smile, a smile that contained a hint of helplessness, a hint of relief, and a hint of mystery that you could never guess what had happened.

Bellorda's expression was much calmer; she merely raised her chin slightly, appearing completely unconcerned.

Master A looked at him.

Information flooded into Darkus's mind, not through sound, but through a more direct, conscious transmission.

The metalworking techniques that Raine discovered on the Dragon Islands are magical.

The moment those words surfaced in his mind, Darkus understood the following logical chain.

Since it's magic, it means it can be dismantled.

Since it is magic, it means that it can be reconstructed.

Ordinary spellcasters cannot do this; it requires a level of understanding of the essence of magic that transcends the mundane, an almost instinctive insight into the relationship between 'matter' and 'energy,' and so on...

But Master Ah can do it!
Thus, the magic of metalmaking was broken down into its most basic sequence, reconstructed into a completely new logical framework, and redirected, recombined, and redefined.

In that process, metal was no longer the only possibility.

After overtaking on the curve, something new emerged.

New generation of ceramics.

Darkus looked down at the breastplate in his hand again, his gaze completely different now. It was no longer the curious look he had given before, but a focused and scrutinizing gaze after a reassessment of its value. His fingers slowly traced the milky-white surface, his fingertips not feeling roughness or graininess, but an unusually smooth touch with subtle, textured patterns.

Just then, Serene's voice rang out, carrying a bitter smile and a hint of relief.

"The project I was leading... is outdated."

Dakos looked up at her.

“It’s completely outdated. It’s like starting to climb the stairs, only to find that someone has already built an elevator that goes straight to the top.” Serene shrugged, a strange sense of ease in her gesture, as if some heavy responsibility on her shoulders had suddenly been lifted off her shoulders.

Darkus wanted to say something, but swallowed his words. He could see Serene's emotions; it wasn't disappointment or frustration, but a kind of almost resigned acceptance unique to facing a "dimensional reduction attack."

When you find that the person you're chasing suddenly disappears from the horizon, not because they stopped, but because they've jumped to another dimension, perhaps all you can do is shrug.
Or to put it another way: Holy crap?!

Bellorda's voice rang out, calm yet carrying a hint of barely perceptible pride.

“This ceramic can absorb the most extreme energy impacts, not by blocking or reflecting, but by absorbing. Thermal energy, kinetic energy, directional energy, whatever form they are, the moment they enter this structure, they will be decomposed, diffused, and dispersed to the entire surface, and then…” She paused, as if searching for a suitable metaphor, “like dropping a drop of ink into the ocean.”

Darkus stared at the breastplate in his hand and remained silent for a few seconds.

Then, without warning, he raised his arm, lifting the ceramic breastplate high. The muscles in his arm tensed instantly, the lines of his shoulders and back clearly outlined in the sunlight, before slamming it heavily to the ground!

"Boom!"

That sound is wrong.

Dakos was stunned.

What he longed for was that familiar, crisp, satisfying cracking sound. What he longed for was the natural, physical destruction of ceramics, shattering into pieces as it should.

In his understanding, ceramics are like this: ceramic armor can withstand kinetic energy, but it is hard while also being brittle. Usually, it is not used alone, but as a composite system.

Typical ceramic armor structures resemble sandwiches.

The outer layer is a ceramic panel, and its function is to break bullets. When a bullet hits the ceramic at high speed, the ceramic, due to its extremely high hardness, can flatten or even shatter the tip of the bullet, while also breaking itself.

This process can consume a large amount of the bullet's kinetic energy.

The backplate, composed of fiber and metal layers, serves as a safety net. When the ceramic fragments shatter, the remaining projectile fragments and ceramic debris continue to impact the backplate. The backplate acts like a net, catching these fragments and absorbing the remaining impact force.

In this defensive process, the shattering of the ceramic is precisely what makes it effective.

If ceramic is as soft as clay, a bullet will penetrate it directly; if ceramic is as tough as steel but not hard enough, a bullet might dent the plate, but the kinetic energy will still be transferred to the human body.

It is precisely because it can pulverize the bullet's energy that it has such high protective efficiency.

If a single ceramic bulletproof plate is subjected to a heavy drop or impact, micro-cracks may develop inside, leading to a decrease in protective performance, or even internal damage before it even enters the battlefield.

But nothing came of it...

The milky-white breastplate on the ground only bounced once.

It's like a metal plate that's been thrown on the ground, or like a spring material that's been compressed to its limit.

It trembled slightly on the stone slab for a moment, then lay there steadily without even a tiny crack appearing on its surface.

Dakos looked down at it, then glanced at his own hand.

Then he slowly squatted down.

He reached out and picked up the breastplate again.

light.

Still light.

It was as if that violent impact had never happened.

It's done, it's really done.

Next came Darkus's performance. He remained frozen in his raised arm pose, his face displaying a variety of expressions. First came confusion, then disbelief, followed by an exaggerated shock, his eyebrows raised high, his eyes widening even more, as if his worldview were collapsing on the spot.

His performance was a success. Serene let out a short laugh, then quickly covered her mouth, but her eyes were already full of amusement. Bellorda's lips twitched upwards with an extremely subtle expression, as if to say, "What are you doing?"

Master A stared blankly at him.

"So, will it break?" Darkus was still caught up in the performance, his tone carrying an absurdly serious question.

"Yes? Perhaps your strength isn't enough?" Bellorda laughed after saying that.

"Looks like I need to start some targeted training." Darkus flexed his biceps, striking a bodybuilding pose.

Master A was completely bewildered. In his understanding, the ancient saint in front of him had always been engaged in some kind of role-playing game that he could never comprehend, but this... this sudden display of muscles was clearly beyond his comprehension.

This made Serene and Bellorda burst into laughter.

After giving him enough emotional support, Darkus returned to normal. He bent down, picked up the breastplate, and examined it several times over.

Under the sunlight, the milky-white, almost transparent breastplate remained completely unharmed, as if nothing had happened.

It's like mocking the person who just threw it so hard.

Dakos then left the square to attend to his daily affairs.

In the days that followed, his life entered a peculiar rhythm.

Every morning, he would wake up in the pool inside the pyramid, wash up briefly, and then walk through the tents and devices back to the city of Lorthern to deal with the mountain of trivial matters that he had to personally oversee.

These tasks occupied most of his daytime.

Documents, reports, debates, approvals, rejections, renegotiations... The empire operates like a giant machine, and he stands between the gears, constantly pushing it forward.

Every evening, when he dragged his weary body back to the square, he would always look forward to something new. Every day was different, every day brought new changes, and every day held surprises.

On the first night, which was the third day after the lizardmen arrived in Lorthorn, he was invited into Salames's tent.

This tent was unremarkable, arguably the most inconspicuous structure in the entire square. The fabric was ordinary, the structure simple, and it lacked both runes and any striking markings.

If I had to pinpoint a unique feature, it would be its closed-off nature.

After lifting the heavy curtain, all I could see was darkness.

He paused, his eyes quickly adjusting to the change in light. Behind him, the sound of a curtain falling completely shut out all external light.

It was pitch black inside the tent.

The air was slightly cooler than outside, carrying the scents of fabric, metal, and a faint oily aroma. Only a faint rustling sound could be heard in the distance, like someone adjusting some device, or like metal gently clattering.

It's simply unrealistic to think that someone could break free from the axemen or be attacked.

Although it was his first time here, he knew that the tent was controlled and managed by Salames, Bel-Tanya, Areda, and Morana.

Salames's surname is Helban, which is his family name; Bel-Tanya has a deep connection with Finnubar; Areda and Morana are from Esolollen and are his important supporters.

But the atmosphere was indeed a bit strange.

Mysterious and neurotic.

Dakota stood still, not moving any further. He tilted his head to listen to the rustling sounds, then sighed softly.

"Can you turn on a light? Are you developing photos?" he said to the darkness, his tone tinged with a helpless sarcasm. "If you're preparing a surprise, at least give me some light."

"Just a moment." Bel-Tania's voice came from somewhere, tinged with barely suppressed excitement. "It'll be ready soon."

Dakos stood still, waiting patiently.

Then, light appeared.

It was not a lamp, not a torch, not any light source he had anticipated.

Instead, it was a projection, a clear, colorful, proportionally rendered projection, appearing out of thin air a few steps in front of him.

The projected content was a complex mechanical structure, with gears, levers, and pipes crisscrossing each other. Each component was slowly rotating, showcasing its three-dimensional form. Gears were meshing, connecting rods were reciprocating, and the movement of fluid could even be faintly seen inside the pipes. The level of detail was so high that Dakous could even see the teeth on each gear and the tiny chamfers on the metal surfaces.

"This……"

His gaze followed the source of the projection and landed on a small table in the center of the tent. On the table sat a palm-sized crystal, its surface emitting a soft glow. The light projected upwards, passing through some unseen medium, where it was rearranged, decomposed, and recombined, ultimately forming the three-dimensional image on a white screen hanging on one side of the tent.

Crystal projection.

curtain.

A dimly lit environment.

Dakos opened his mouth, but for a moment he didn't know what to say.

“How about it?” Bel-Tania’s voice was filled with undisguised pride. “We call it the ‘Crystal Display’.”

“The graphics are projected through models and structures,” Areda added, her hands gesturing vaguely in the darkness, as if describing the invisible path of light. “The crystal itself acts as the light source and imaging core, while the screen is the receiving surface. As long as the environment is dark enough, the image will be clear enough.”

“And it can project at any angle,” Morana’s voice came from another direction. “We are still researching how to make it project directly in the air without a screen. But for now… well, a screen is the most stable option.”

Dakos remained silent for a few seconds.

His gaze moved from the projector to the crystal, then to the screen, and finally back to the projector.

Countless images flashed through my mind.

The monitors he had seen—those paper-thin screens that could display images directly, those interactive interfaces embedded in the surface of devices, within easy reach; those bright, clear visual terminals that required almost no environmental conditions.

And what's in front of me...

Projector.

It requires a dim environment, a screen, and crystals as a light source and storage medium.

From a technical standpoint, this does indeed achieve the function of 'display,' presenting graphics in a visual form. In principle, it is also a clever application of crystals, utilizing the relationship between shadow and light to make originally invisible graphics appear on the screen.

But from... from his perspective...

Dakos raised his hand and rubbed his temples.

"So?" he spoke slowly, his voice carrying a strange, suppressed tone, "You mean, the four of you high-level spellcasters proficient in the Wind of Urku have developed a... projector?"

There was a moment of silence in the darkness.

That kind of quiet was subtle.

It was as if the four people stopped what they were doing at the same time, looked at each other, and realized at the same time that there was a problem.

then.

“Projector?” Bel-Tania repeated the word hesitantly.

"What is that?" Morana asked.

“It’s something that requires a darkroom, a light source, and a screen to display an image…” Darkus paused, then gestured.

“Isn’t that what we did?” Bel-Tania’s tone was matter-of-fact. “What’s the problem?”

Dakos took a deep breath.

"The problem is..." He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, "...maybe there's something called...a monitor? The kind that can display images directly, without a darkroom, without a screen, and that can emit its own light?"

silence.

A longer silence.

"What's the principle behind that?" Areda's voice became serious.

"Never mind, forget I said anything." Darkus rubbed his temples again.

He stared at the projection crystal for a few seconds, then looked at the slowly rotating mechanical diagram on the screen. The image was clear, the colors vibrant, and the rotation smooth. If you disregarded the requirement for a dimly lit environment and a screen, it was indeed a remarkable achievement, allowing multiple people to view it simultaneously, and could even be used for teaching, design, and commanding operations…

only……

This was somewhat beyond his expectations. He had originally thought the initial product would be one of those bulky, black-and-white, big-headed devices. But now this thing actually looks quite advanced, just on a completely different path.

“Have you ever considered,” Darkus carefully chose his words, “that if crystals could emit their own light, directly forming images without a screen…”

“I’ve thought about it,” Morana said, “but the Urku Wind excels at ‘concealing’ and ‘revealing,’ not ‘emitting light.’ We chose projection because it’s the path the Urku Wind is best at, allowing originally invisible graphics to ‘reveal’ through the contrast of light and shadow.”

Dakos was taken aback.

This explanation... does seem to make sense?

“Furthermore,” Salames added, “the screen doesn’t necessarily have to be made of cloth. We’ve tried walls, water, and even smoke. As long as the surface is smooth enough or has enough diffuse reflection, it can form an image. If we need to move it around, we can even hold the screen up and follow behind.”

Dakos imagined the scene: a group of people holding up a white screen, following behind someone, with various images projected onto the screen, while another person held up the crystal...

He discovered for the first time that Salames was quite humorous.

What kind of mobile movie theater is this?

He couldn't help but chuckle.

“Okay…” he said, his initial confusion gone, replaced by a helpless appreciation. “I admit, it is indeed… quite clever. Using Urquhart winds for display is perfectly reasonable in principle. And projection does have advantages over direct display in certain situations, such as showing a group of people at the same time, or when large images are needed.”

“But…” he changed the subject, “have you considered portability? If it’s for mobile use, you can’t exactly set up a tent every time, can you?”

“Of course we considered it,” Bel-Tania’s voice held a hint of slyness. “So we also designed this…”

Before he could finish speaking, Darkus felt something being shoved into his hand.

The thing was cold and smooth, and about the size of a palm.

He subconsciously looked down.

A crystal.

Dakos held it up to his eyes.

Fine lines can be faintly seen inside the crystal, layered one on top of another, like a geometric array compressed into a solid.

“A handheld image display,” Areda explained. “To use it, you need to find a relatively dark corner, face the wall or your palm, and you can see the image.”

Darkus paused for a few seconds, then held up the small crystal towards the screen. The crystal glowed faintly, but not enough to form a clear image under normal light; it required darkness.

"So, this thing has to be used at night, or hidden in a room?"

"Correct."

"Or perhaps we could find a cave?"

"also."

"Or perhaps cover your head with a black cloth?"

"Theoretically... yes."

Dakos fell silent again.

He looked down at the crystal in his hand, then looked up at the slowly rotating mechanical structure diagram on the screen. Gears were turning, levers were swinging, and tiny connecting rods were rhythmically moving back and forth. The entire structure was like a sophisticated mechanical creature, breathing quietly on the white screen.

He suddenly remembered shadow plays, firelight, curtains, and shadow figures moving on the walls.

The principle seems... similar?

But this is not a step backward.

This is another road.

“Okay! I admit, this thing is pretty interesting. Although it’s not quite the monitor I imagined, it does work.” He looked up at the still-rotating mechanical image on the screen, and a slow smile crept onto his lips.

He paused, a hint of teasing in his tone.

"Have you considered the consequences if we promote this?"

"What are the consequences?" Salames asked.

“The elves’ future form of entertainment,” Darkus said seriously, “will probably be to gather together at night, find a dark room, and stare at a screen all night.”

He paused for a moment.

If we expand it any further, it'll become a movie theater...

A few soft laughs came from the darkness.

“That’s fine too,” Morana said. “It’s better than fighting in a tavern.”

Dakos nodded, tossed the small crystal in his hand, and looked at the clear projection on the screen.

“Crystal projection,” he said, turning to the few indistinct figures in the darkness, his tone tinged with genuine admiration, “a darkroom, a screen, and a handheld device… well, this method of operation certainly surprised me.”

Several suppressed laughs of triumph echoed from the darkness.

“Actually, we didn’t expect it to come to this.” Bel-Tania clapped her hands lightly, her tone carrying a sense of satisfaction at finally being recognized. “At first, we just wanted to display those complex structural diagrams so that everyone could see them together. But as we worked on it, it turned out like this.”

“And that’s not all,” Areda added.

Dakos raised an eyebrow slightly.

"besides?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the mechanical structure on the curtain suddenly stopped rotating.

next second.

The image begins to change.

The gears were disassembled, the structure separated, and the layers were peeled away.

layer.

Two layers.

Three floors.

The originally complex machinery was disassembled into dozens of parts, which were suspended one by one on the screen, as if being slowly decomposed by an invisible hand.

“We have discovered,” Morana said slowly, “that if we write different structural sequences into the crystal, we can make the image change in sequence.”

“In other words,” Salames added, “it can not only display graphics, but also demonstrate the process.”

Dakos stared at the curtain.

The mechanical structure was gradually reassembling, parts were returning to their positions, gears were engaging, linkages were locking, and the entire device was starting to operate again.

He watched quietly for a few seconds, then took a soft breath.

What is all this?

He wants a monitor.

But what could he say?

“Okay, now this thing…” He pointed to the curtain, “is indeed quite impressive.” (End of Chapter)