Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

Tigasus's movements made some slight noises, betraying his presence to the armored tyrant. When Malekith turned, orange eyes burned through his helmet, filled with hatred and rage.

There was no conversation, no shouting, Tigasus tightly grasped the warp stone knife and slashed at Malekith.

Perhaps Malekith was too focused, or perhaps the distance was too close, and he was hit on the shoulder by the dimensional stone knife before he could dodge. Under the huge force, the ancient armor parts fell apart with the pull of the blade, falling continuously and rolling to the ground.

Just as Tigasus had thought, the Warpstone Knife was useful. The blade did not stop after cutting through the Tyrant's Midnight Armor, but continued to cut through the Witch King's body, tearing through his flesh and bones, and cutting through his ribs and sternum one by one before his chest exploded.

Tigasus gasped for air, and at this moment, he almost suffocated, his body shaking violently because of what he had done. He killed Malekith! He killed the Witch King! He killed the tyrant! With his own hands, he became the master of all Naggaroth!
At this moment, a grand picture swam in his mind, and he thought about how he became the new king of Naggaroth... However, after only a heartbeat, he realized how wrong what was happening before his eyes was.

Malekith, who was almost split in half by the warp stone knife, did not fall down. This terrible figure still persisted, and the torn armor swayed at the wound. Tigasus noticed that blood did not flow from the wound, and no blood splashed on his blade.

As the tyrant began to draw his Sunblade, Tigasus attacked again, pride driving him to strike at Malekith, but the tyrant's terrible vitality sent fear running down his spine. Panic drove him to attack again, a panic only a condemned soul could feel. Having struck the Witch King, he knew there were only two choices now: success or death.

Tigasus's attack arrived the moment the Sun Sword was unsheathed. The warp stone knife swung down, and a green steel blur cut through the air and bit the Witch King's hand. The blade pierced through Malekith's heavy armor, split the rune-carved gloves, and the sharp blade shattered the hilt of the tyrant's weapon.

The Sun Sword flew out of his hand, spinning in the hall, making a creepy scream that echoed along the dust-covered tiles. The Witch King's severed hand fell to the ground with a heavy thud, then rolled on the ground and finally stopped at Tigasus' feet.

"It's fake! It's fake. What's the point of finding the Yangyan Sword? What a ridiculous trick!"

He took one look at the Sunfire Sword on the ground and sneered. Regarding the issue of the Sunfire Sword, a large number of Naggaroth nobles believed that this was a ridiculous political trick by Malekith and Darkius in order to increase the legitimacy of Malekith's rule over Naggaroth.

After all, they had never seen or heard of Malekith using the Sunblade to slash anyone...

The real Sun Sword had long been forgotten in a corner, and the so-called Sun Sword found from Lustria was undoubtedly a fake. He was a skeptic and believed it firmly. Now the scene before him confirmed his judgment. He saw the weakness of the Witch King. Such a tyrant was not worthy of ruling him.

However, when he looked up, he was struck again by the lack of blood and the Witch King's lack of expression of pain.

Malekith did not retreat in pain, nor did he grab his injured arm. Instead, he rushed forward like an enraged beast and grabbed Tigasus with the claws of his remaining hand. Although his movements seemed hasty and awkward, the anger in his eyes and his unyielding will did not diminish at all.

Tigasus took a step back, then roared angrily and swung the warpstone knife again. His eyes flashed with fanaticism, and every step he took was full of determination and strength. He swung the warpstone knife, and the blade drew green arcs in the air, constantly approaching Malekith. Each blow was filled with endless murderous intent, and he slashed at the tyrant mercilessly. The blade made a sharp whistling sound in the air, as if it was thirsty for more flesh and blood.

Malekith tried his best to dodge. Although he lost his right hand, his left hand was still strong and powerful. He punched back Tigasus's attack again and again, but Tigasus's attack became more and more fierce, so fierce that his defense was gradually suppressed.

Tigasus found the right opportunity and leaned forward suddenly, with the blade slashing towards Malekith's leg like lightning.

Malekith barely dodged sideways, but the blade still cut his shin guard.

Before Malekith could launch a counterattack, Tigasus's attack was like a storm, completely suppressing him to the ground.

The tyrant's panting and Tigasus's laughter intertwined in the empty hall, forming a tragic picture of a life-and-death struggle. Fear once again left Tigasus, and every time he swung his sword, he was determined and fierce, and his eyes flashed with desire for victory and hatred for the Witch King.

Malekith crawled on the ground without the image of a king, trying to avoid the attack of Tigasus. Without his hands and weapons, the Witch King was no longer the invincible myth, but a creature struggling to survive.

Tigasus' eyes were filled with fanaticism, he knew this was his only chance. His warp stone knife drew cold light in the air and chopped towards Malekith on the ground.

"You can't escape, Malekith!" Tigasus roared, his voice echoing in the empty hall. Every attack he made was filled with anger, as if he wanted to pour all his resentment on this former tyrant.

Malekith's armor scraped against the ground, making a harsh sound. He crawled with his remaining hands, trying to get away from Tigasus's attack range, but every time he seemed to be out of danger, Tigasus's blade would slash at him mercilessly. Each of Tigasus's strikes was carried with devastating force, as if to tear him into pieces.

"Your reign is over!" Tigasus' voice was full of triumph, and his blade swung down again, this time hitting Malekith's back. The Witch King let out a howl of pain, and the sound of tearing was clearly audible.

Tigasus kept attacking, almost losing his mind, and each of his attacks was filled with endless hatred and madness, as if he wanted to destroy the whole world. He slashed at Malekith again and again until the Witch King was no longer able to resist, collapsed to the ground, and blood flowed like a river.

The blade pierced through the tyrant's heavy armor, splashing sparks on the armor. The blade cut through Malekith's shoulder and tore the tyrant's neck.

Malekith's helmet and horn crown were chopped off and flew into the air. The helmet flew away in the air like a black meteor. Tigasus followed closely, unable to believe what he saw. The helmet drew an arc in the air and finally hit the wall with a dull sound, fell to the ground, and rolled to Tigasus' feet.

Tigasus's breathing was short and his heart was beating wildly. He had done it. He had done what Druki had not done before. He had killed Malekith. His hands were shaking slightly. He could hardly believe the scene before him, as if it was just an illusory dream. However, the helmet on the ground reminded him that all this was real.

He bent down and picked up the helmet that was chopped off, feeling its weight and coldness. The helmet still had the aura of Malekith, symbolizing the supreme authority and power of this tyrant. He held the helmet high, his eyes flashing with fanatical light, and he wanted to engrave this victory in his heart forever.

"I did it!" He shouted in triumph, his voice echoing in the empty hall. It was a cry of ecstasy and relief, as if all the repression and anger accumulated in his body were released at this moment. His voice was full of power, with an incomparable sense of pride and pride.

Tigasus enjoyed the pleasure of victory, and an unprecedented power surged in his chest. He was no longer the dread lord dominated by the Witch King, but a hero who killed the Witch King, a legend who rose in the darkness. His eyes were shining, and at this moment, he finally defeated everything and became the real winner.

He held his helmet high, announcing his victory to the world. His laughter echoed in the hall, a kind of endless ecstasy and satisfaction, as if he had conquered the whole world. He knew that this moment would be forever engraved in his memory and become the most glorious moment in his life.

However, just as he was about to turn around, he caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye, and his hair stood up. He didn't know when the headless body had actually crawled up from the ground and reached out to grab him. He felt a cold fear tightly grasping his heart, especially when he saw the headless tyrant stepping towards him, his heartbeat almost stopped.

The claws nearly grabbed him by the throat, but at the last moment, it was reflex rather than conscious thought that made him sidestep. He dropped his helmet, turned and plunged the blade into his attacker. This time, he aimed for the waist, fear infusing his arms with desperate strength, and the sharp warpstone knife cut through the metal plate like butter, the sound of metal breaking echoing throughout the hall.

As he finished his destructive spin, the headless tyrant hit the ground hard and broke in two. He gasped and looked at the splintered remains of the armor, unable to believe that he had once again defeated this terrifying opponent. His heart was pounding and his mind was filled with chaotic thoughts, but he knew he had to stay alert and make sure the tyrant was completely incapacitated.

Tigasus watched in shock as Malekith's limp legs tumbled on the ground, the torso, with only one arm, still struggling to roll over and climb up. Despite the continued damage he had inflicted on the body, there was still no trace of blood, and no smell of blood in the air. At this moment, he understood why, as the body that had been split in two struggled on the ground, he could see that inside, there was no flesh and blood, just a suit of armor that was given a false vitality through some blasphemous sorcery.

At this thought, Tigasus's emotions were gradually replaced by astonishment, as if a basin of icy cold water had been poured over his head. He had been deceived, and his efforts were just against a false puppet. His teeth clenched, and his eyes became sharp and cold. He began to understand that the real Malekith might be watching all this from somewhere, laughing at his futility. He blocked his chest with the knife, and he had to re-evaluate his situation. If this headless armor was just a cover, then the real threat still lurked in the shadows. His shaking hands clenched the warpstone knife, ready for possible attacks. His senses were highly alert, and every tiny sound in his ears made him nervous.

Just as he was concentrating on listening to the movements around him, suddenly, a cold laugh sounded in the darkness, echoing in the silent hall. His heartbeat began to speed up, and he knew that this time the enemy would no longer be a simple puppet. He took a deep breath, stared at the direction where the sound came from, and prepared to meet the new challenge.

This time, he vowed not to be deceived again, the real Malekith will face all his anger and power. No matter how cunning the enemy in front of him is, he will fight unswervingly until the final victory or destruction, because he knows that he has delayed too long and he has no way out.

"Ah~ It seems that you will not add the title of regicide to your achievements. Besides... your performance, tut tut tut..."

Tigasus, holding his blade tightly, looked warily in the direction of the sound, and the loud applause made him turn quickly.

The hall was suddenly illuminated by several crystal chandeliers, and he saw several figures emerging from the darkness, all wearing armor from head to toe. No doubt, only the Black Guards were qualified to wear this armor. He was sure that these figures were the Black Guards, Malekith's private army, and the one walking in front was Corran Blackhand, the Witch King's most loyal lackey, clapping his hands and mocking.

"The Dread Lord of Naggarond, Tigarthus Thornblood, you are so great that you actually sneaked into your master's tower with the intention of murder." Koran's tone was full of malicious pleasure.

Tigasus's rage almost devoured him. When he stared at Kolan, his heart was filled with contempt and hatred for the black guard captain who was born from a commoner. He knew that he was played by a puppet, and the feeling of being manipulated made him extremely angry. After seeing that the midnight armor was supported by the false vitality given by witchcraft, he knew that he had fallen into a trap, but what he couldn't stand was that this trap was set by a dog like Kolan who was born from a commoner.

His mind raced as he plotted how to turn the tables. The other Black Guards were armed, but Kolan was unarmed. This was a mistake, and it was his best chance to strike back. He had to make sure the dog would regret it in a few seconds.

However, when his peripheral vision swept to the ground, he was stunned.

Tigasus turned his stiff neck and looked at the ground. The headless tyrant who was lying there disappeared, and the metal fragments scattered on the ground also disappeared without a trace. The objects that were in front of him a few seconds ago disappeared completely in an instant, as if someone appeared unnoticed and cleaned up the traces of the scene during the few seconds when he and Koulan looked at each other.

He turned his neck again to confirm, his eyes wide open, full of disbelief and confusion. The headless tyrant and the metal fragments were indeed gone, and there were only traces of his chopping on the floor tiles. As his head turned, his peripheral vision caught some existence again, and three figures emerged from the darkness.

These figures were not the Black Guards. He had seen these three figures before. Countless possibilities flashed through his mind, each one more terrifying than the last. His heart was pounding, his breathing was rapid, and his thoughts were confused yet clear.

These three figures are the most powerful beings in Naggaroth, of course they are one of the...

Standing on the left was Kira, the Night Lord of Karonde Karl. She was wearing an eye mask and twisting her mouth, trying to control her distorted expression to prevent herself from laughing out loud. The scenes that just happened were too funny and too unbelievable. After Tigasus entered the hall, he was like a madman, performing some kind of clown-like performance, a kind of farce with sound, hacking at the air, yelling, and roaring.

Standing in the middle is also the Witch King's loyal lackey Hirsis. He and Tigasus can be considered friends. He has participated in midnight conspiracies more than once, and he and Tigasus belong to the same circle.

However, Nagarus had no weaklings, nor did he have any friends. Strictly speaking, his only real friend was Dacus, at least that's what he thought. As for what Dacus thought, he didn't know. He was extremely glad that he didn't expand the conflict, but instead made the decision to give in to Dacus. That decision brought him and his family today and tomorrow.

Now, he was looking at the dazed Tigasus with disappointment, pity and anger.

Standing on the left was Hag Graves' Night Warden Draka, who was not wearing the armor that could pour out steam, but this did not prevent him from crossing his hands in front of his chest, showing his imposing manner. His cold eyes stared at Tigasus, as if he was examining an incompetent weakling, and at the same time he had no intention of making a move, because he knew that Tigasus had fallen into despair and did not need to spend any more effort.

"If you want to do things well, you have to do it yourself. You actually came here. I admire your courage, or should I say... recklessness?"

A voice came from behind Tigasus, and this voice made him feel like he was falling into an icy cave. He knew that the voice was made by Malekith. He turned his neck stiffly, looking for the source of the voice.

He was tall and covered in armor from head to toe, and the metal with runes on it exuded an air of arrogance and contempt. The evil black armor, the tall helmet supporting the horned iron crown, the Yangyan sword hanging at his waist, everything was so recognizable.

Malekith, the Witch King of Naggaroth.

At this moment, Malekith was just like what Tigarthus had just seen, concentrating on looking at the portrait hanging on the wall, which showed Aenarion roaring in front of the holy fire of Asuryan. He didn't even turn his head to look at Tigarthus, as if the scene in the painting was more interesting than Tigarthus's current situation.

Tigasus finally realized that from the moment he chose to meet Hermara, he had fallen into a trap that had been woven for him. This was a land full of chaos, with rumors of betrayal everywhere, and the nobles attacking each other. A strong arm was needed to bind them again and serve their country.

The sentinels patrolling the bridge between Hemara's own tower and the outer ring around Malekith's Black Tower were loopholes. They were all lies, traps. He had been lucky enough to escape the trap Hemara had set for him, and he had been lucky enough to avoid mistakes through shrewd betrayal, but he knew he could not escape this time, and despair enveloped him.

Malekith knew he would come from the beginning, or rather, Hemara's meeting with him was Malekith's instruction, just to lure him out. After he entered the Black Tower, Malekith discovered his whereabouts and unknowingly implanted an illusion in his mind. The metal fragments scattered on the ground did not exist from the beginning. He had already...

However, before Tigasus could think about it, Kolan's attack arrived. Hearing the noise, he roared and rushed towards Kolan, swinging the blade downward, shining in the light of the crystal chandelier.

There was no wailing sound of a blade piercing the target, no shattering sound of armor being torn apart. Kolan dodged his attack nimbly with his bare hands and smashed his fist into his face.

Blood flowed from Tigasus's broken nose, and he stumbled back. Before he could react, Kolan rushed towards him again and punched him in the face, accompanied by blood and curses, and beat him back. The huge force tore his face apart. The previous fight in the void and the current despair drained his strength. As he staggered back, he instinctively swung the blade upwards.

The blade slashed across Kolan's abdomen, and the black armor made a metallic rubbing sound. The blade, strengthened by the dimensional stone, only scratched the ancient armor, and the armor's special effects were extremely significant, rebounding part of Tigasus's attack. Tigasus screamed after feeling severe pain, and every nerve in his body seemed to be burned by the candlelight.

"This is the Armor of Sorrow. The magic in it is very keen to punish those who dare to attack its wearer, you fool, idiot!" Koulan laughed and patted the breastplate with his hands, but he did not pat the part that was chopped by Tigasus. He was not stupid.

The armor's counterattack was shocking, and the warp stone knife slipped from Tigasus's weak hands. He staggered back with his strength drained away, but he was still trying to regain control of his tortured body.

"Catch him." A cold smile appeared on Kolan's face again. As the captain of the Black Guard, he ordered his warriors and waved his hand for the Black Guard to move forward.

The Black Guards, who had been ready for a long time, swarmed over and knocked Tigasus to the ground with the halberd handles. He felt a sharp pain in his skull when a Black Guard's weapon hit his head, and he lost consciousness when his head hit the dusty floor tiles.

"Now, I am your tour guide, and I will show you around my black tower." (End of this chapter)