Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

"At least Tal Achar held on..."

Valin Whiteclaw, clutching Valoril Ironthorn, launched a 'powerful' counterattack. His voice was loud enough to be heard throughout the entire conference room; his tone was resolute, as if stating an undeniable fact.

However, he froze halfway through his sentence, like a high-speed machine suddenly jammed.

He realized he had said the wrong thing. He knew... he knew he shouldn't have said it, shouldn't have said it from this angle, shouldn't have said it at this time, and shouldn't have been said by him.

As he expected, the result was as he anticipated.

The nobles present either looked at him with astonishment, their mouths slightly agape and their eyes wide open; or with shock, as if they had heard some unbelievable news; or with a "how dare you" look on their faces, their eyebrows lowered and their lips pressed into a line.

How could he say that? How could he have the nerve to say that?

Even Liris Wrathmane, who was standing next to him and hugging Valoril Ironthorn, looked at him with an expression as if he were an idiot. There was no anger or sympathy in her expression, only a pure and unadorned "Are you out of your mind?"

In an instant, his face turned red, not with a slight blush of shyness, but with a burning redness that ran from the base of his neck to the top of his head, like he had been slapped.

Fortunately, he was a warrior, not a spellcaster, otherwise he would have had to perform some kind of teleportation trick, disappearing into the cracks in the stone slabs and vanishing from the conference room.

But he was not a spellcaster; he could only stand there, like a red-hot iron pillar, bearing the gazes cast from all directions.

"Have they attacked?"

Fortunately, the atmosphere didn't remain tense.

Alessandr stepped forward, attempting to steer the conversation. His voice wasn't loud, but in the conference room, which was almost swallowed by silence, it was like a rope thrown to a drowning person.

He didn't want to save Valin; Valin deserved it!

He didn't want the meeting to be ruined by a mutual stare-down of "How dare you say such a thing?"

“No…” Valoril responded, patting Valin and Liris’s arms at the same time. The two pats were neither too hard nor too soft, as if to say, “Alright, let go.”

After they separated, he sat back down in his chair. Before sitting down, he glared at Eldaria fiercely, the meaning of which was clear: the insults he had just hurled at me were not over.

It won't be resolved now, but it won't just be left like this.

"Tell me more?"

“There’s nothing to say.” Valoril sighed heavily, a sigh that seemed to be squeezed from the deepest part of his chest, carrying an indescribable weariness. “They suddenly crossed the border and surrounded Tal Achar. At first, I was shocked, not afraid, just shocked. I tried to send envoys to negotiate, but they refused to respond, not even to see the envoys. Then… they just stood there, neither attacking nor retreating, just in a stalemate.”

He paused, as if recalling a scene he didn't want to remember.

"Later..." He looked at Elisande, his gaze carrying a knowing look. He didn't finish his sentence, but instead, just like Elisande had done when he cosplayed Darkus, he spread his arms out, raised them slightly, and then lowered them.

The Battle of Lorthorn was not spoken, but everyone understood it from that gesture of spreading his hands.

Alessand nodded somewhat dejectedly, sighed heavily, and then looked at Lady Eleanor.

Avalon's political structure is somewhat similar to that of Aisoloron; in fact, Avalon's political structure is the original, the template. The lords of the forest each govern themselves, yet collectively revere the Everlasting Queen as their supreme symbol.

Lady Elena was previously a handmaid of the Eternals, and was subsequently assigned by the Eternal Queen to govern a region, much like some woodland lords of Azsorloth, who, with the Eternal Queen's decree, went to a place where she was needed to be in charge, becoming the 'eyes and hands' of that place.

To put it bluntly, she was a powerful figure in the Kingdom of Avalon, with a military force under her command. She wasn't just a noble with a nominal title who lived off his position; she was someone who could actually raise an army at a moment's notice.

“Eternal Queen…” Elena responded, her voice low but clear.

However, she only said half of what she meant.

Her gaze shifted from Elisander to a spot on the sand table, lingered for two seconds, and then she too made a shrugging gesture. The gesture was lighter and softer than Valoril's, almost unrecognizable as a cosplay of Darkus.

But Ellesander understood.

The Eternal Queen forbade these powerful figures from taking any action.

This is not Elena's personal stance, but Avalon's stance. As the "eyes and hands" personally dispatched by the Eternal Queen, she cannot possibly contradict the Eternal Queen.

Just as the hall was about to fall silent, a crisp sound rang out. It was the sound of Eldalia lifting the windshield of her lighter; the sound was sharp, like something being broken. She took out a cigarette case from her pocket, pulled out a cigarette, put it in her mouth, and lit it.

She took a deep breath, the firelight flashing briefly at her fingertips before fading. She slowly exhaled smoke, which appeared bluish-white in the dim light, swirling upwards like a snake without direction.

"We can still fight..."

She shook her head and let out a silent laugh.

“What has Tal Usvi been through?” Elisander stepped forward again, knowing that Eldalia needed to finish her story. Some things were stuck in her chest; if she didn't get them out, they would fester inside.

“Nothing happened.” Eldalia’s voice was very low, so low that it sounded like she was talking to herself. “Druc suddenly appeared from the sea, and as far as the eye could see, there were ships everywhere.”

She raised her hand to signal everyone to be quiet. The gesture was not a request, but a command, carrying an unquestionable authority formed on the battlefield.

“Don’t spout nonsense about holding them off on the beach. They had already landed before I even finished assembling my troops. When I arrived outside the city with my men, I was met with the enemy. Raid ships hovered overhead, surrounding us. What could I do? What should I do?” Her gaze swept across the faces of everyone present, as if searching for someone who could offer an answer. “Hmm? What would you do in my place? We ride warhorses. We Elion people run on land. We don’t have winged horses.”

"They didn't attack, but that doesn't mean they didn't toy with us. I left one team to wake up and care for the still unconscious warriors and their mounts, then led the two teams that were still able to move toward the beach. And guess what I saw?"

She paused, took a deep drag of her cigarette, as if she needed that smoke to sustain her words.

"When I reached the highlands, I saw a scene that was both shocking and despairing. The sea was densely packed with warships, not just dozens, but hundreds, covering the entire sea surface."

On land, a massive army had firmly occupied the beachhead, their disciplined ranks and fierce fighting spirit evident, their battle flags fluttering like an impending steel torrent.

You know my military skills; in just a few seconds, I assessed the enemy's size: no less than five thousand men. Moreover, they were well-equipped for both close and long-range engagements, with a complete organizational structure and clear deployment, and they also had raiding ships providing aerial support.

One hour!
In one hour, Trucchi managed to get 5,000 people logged on.

What does this mean?

In the meeting room, no one spoke for a moment. Only Eldalia's cigarette burned, making a faint hissing sound.

“But you still have city walls!” Liris exclaimed.

Eldaria was suddenly choked by the smoke, and she coughed violently, bending over with the force of the cough, tears welling in her eyes. The tears slid down her flushed face, perhaps from the smoke, or perhaps from something else entirely.

She wiped her face with her sleeve and looked up.

“What good are city walls!” Her voice suddenly rose, almost hysterical. “Are you deaf? They have raiding ships! Raiding ships that can fly! Each raiding ship is controlled by a spellcaster and can carry soldiers, and more! They can land inside your city walls, deploy in formation in your squares, and drop soldiers over your head. City walls? Can they stop ships, stop people, stop spearheads falling from the sky?” With that, she reached into her robes, pulled out a piece of paper, and slammed it against the edge of the long table holding the sand table. The sound was muffled but powerful, as if all her emotions were contained in that single action.

The paper was folded, the edges were worn, and the paper was yellowed, indicating that it had been preserved for a long time.

"You've done a great job."

Eldan patted Eldaria on the shoulder, offering words of comfort. His hand rested on her shoulder, light but steady. It was an acknowledgment, an acknowledgment of her situation, of her choice, of the only decision she could and should make in that moment when there was no right answer.

The city of Tal Usvi has a very short history, so short that its name cannot be found on some old maps of Ausuan.

Strategically, it serves as a pivotal point for the Kingdom of Elion on the northern peninsula, controlling the estuary of the Phoenix River and the Agarwood River. When Duruci lands in the Kingdom of Nagarus, the forces of the Kingdom of Elion, and indeed those of other kingdoms, will gather at Tar Usvi, then proceed along the Phoenix River to the Phoenix Gate, and finally enter the Kingdom of Nagarus from there.

Troops and supplies from other kingdoms can also reach this city via the inland sea.

In this respect, Tal Usvi serves as both a starting point and a logistical hub. If Duruchi enters the inner ring from the direction of the Kingdom of Nagalos, Tal Usvi can also hold its ground, with the navy providing cover and supplies and troops continuously being transported to it, constantly bleeding the enemy dry and weakening them. The enemy will be unable to advance further until the city is captured.

However... this time, Duruch did not come from the direction of the Kingdom of Nagalus, but from the Inland Sea.

It's not from the north, it's from the east.

It's not from the direction of the "enemy," but from the direction of "our own people."

Just like Eldalia said, what can I do? What should I do?
The moment she stood on the high ground, she faced not only the 5,000-strong landing force, but also the follow-up troops still on the ships, not only the sky full of raiding ships, but also the black fleet covering the sea. She also faced a deeper, more despairing truth: behind her, there were no reinforcements. Beneath her feet lay a city, completely unprepared, undefended, where even the city walls seemed superfluous.

Eldan shook his head, picked up the paper, and handed it to Elisande. Then he turned to look at Valoril.

"Did you see any of those strangely shaped large structures when Tal Achar was besieged?"

"I've met you before," Valoril replied directly, his face still bearing the embarrassment and anger of being called out earlier, but now replaced by another emotion—a heavy feeling of reminiscence that he was unwilling to discuss.

"Did they activate the device? I'm curious."

"No!" Valoril's answer was crisp, so crisp it was as if he were saying, "Don't ask anymore."

After reading the contents of the paper, Elisander sighed. He had wanted to make a sarcastic remark, "They still gave me face," but he ultimately gave up and handed the paper to Valoril.

That piece of paper was a surrender proclamation thrown from the raiding ship on the day the war began. Eldaria picked it up and has kept it ever since. The paper contained no lengthy pronouncements, no impassioned speeches, only a few concise, almost transactional sentences and drawings.

Faced with Duru's overwhelming offensive, Eldalia, who sent messengers to request reinforcements, did everything she could.

Then she chose to surrender.

It wasn't weakness, it was clarity. She saw clearly that the city couldn't be defended, and those people couldn't have died in vain.

After surrendering, Duruci did nothing to the city; there was no massacre, no destruction, and none of the atrocities she had foreseen in her worst-case scenario. She simply disarmed Asur, placed the city's defenses under Duruci's control, and took charge of maintaining order.

They changed the flags several times and replaced the guards with a different batch of soldiers.

The city is still the same city, the streets are still the same streets, and the market still opens at dawn, but the children won't be playing by the pond as usual.

Once order was restored, Eldalia was tormented. She prepared to commit suicide to prove her loyalty with death and wash away the label of "surrender" with her blood.

But in the end, Dorian's words made her give up the idea.

Dorian told her: You'd better not do that. It will have a chain reaction that will be bad for everyone.

How will Trudeau explain your death?
There's no way to explain it.

How would Asur view your death?
I can't see it.

Ultimately, something that no one wants to see may very well happen.

So Eldalia did not choose suicide. She lived on, enduring the pressure and unbearable stares, appearing in the city, in the market, on the streets, and in front of the citizens who had once placed high hopes on her.

This proves she's still there, she's still alive. Not just barely surviving, she's alive.

Living was her choice; living was her struggle.

The days that followed became "interesting" and "ironic".

Duruci bought all of Tal Usvi's cattle and sheep at a reasonable price—not by undercutting, nor by giving alms, but at a genuine price equal to the market price—keeping only the young for breeding.

Eldalia made a small fortune, and the common people living in the city also made a fortune. For the first time, those who had herded livestock for generations found heavy silver coins in their pockets.

Although the silver coins were different from those they had encountered before, this did not affect their use.

This isn't the end.

Duruci trained some civilians to use machines—smoking machines that could move on their own. These Asur, who had learned to use the machines, then joined another group of Asur to grow pasture for Duruci for a fee.

Some ordinary people started raising chickens for Duruqi, not just a few chickens for their own consumption, but hundreds or thousands of chickens, requiring special chicken coops, daily egg collection, and bookkeeping for the "industry".

This isn't the end.

After the Duruch soldiers went on leave, Tal Usvi became a "hot tourist attraction." Those Duruch soldiers from Nagarus and from Ashriel wanted to see what the city of Asur was like, and what was in a surrendered city.

They came to drink, to eat, to buy souvenirs, though they were a bit ostentatious.

Suddenly, the city's catering, service, leather, shoemaker, and tailor businesses boomed. Taverns that were deserted before the war were now packed every day; many leatherworkers had to work with the whole family due to the overwhelming number of orders, and even had to hire several apprentices temporarily.

This is...

Eldaria flicked her cigarette ash, watching the grayish-white residue slowly drift down and crumble into powder at the edge of the sand table. Her lips twitched, not in a smile, not in a cry, but in an indescribable, "What kind of mess is this?" expression.

Silence fell over the meeting room once again.

But this silence is different from the previous ones. The previous silences were tense, fraught with tension, and ready to erupt at any moment. This silence, however, is one of undeniable resistance, with nowhere to retreat, a silence that forces us to confront reality.

"Twisted Cannon?"

Finally, Valoril broke the silence after reading the contents of the paper. (End of Chapter)