Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

It was a difficult journey from Lothern back to the Kingdom of Caledor. In order to continue on the steep mountain road, the team had to move forward carefully. Even so, some horses were injured and the squires were forced to stay behind, but as the Dragon Prince, Lasir Morwen had no intention of caring about these.

He was still burning with rage, and as he moved further and further away from Lothern, his shame was growing more and more tormenting. He hardly noticed the surrounding scenery, the abrupt mountains, the vegetation-covered hills that sloped down to the shining Dream Sea. He did not speak to his squires, and they did not dare to speak to him.

The contradictions in his heart were fighting fiercely. A deep sense of shame gnawed at his heart. The meeting was not honorable at all, and it crushed the remaining pride in his heart. On the other hand, the feeling of revenge troubled him. He was humiliated, and this required a response. He also tried to let it go, but he couldn't let it go. Every step away from Lothern, the emotions in his heart became stronger.

"Why do I feel this way? Why now?"

"Something is changing, something is awakening."

Still absorbed in his own thoughts, Rahil paused, stopping in front of the decorative stone gate that marked the boundary between the delicate kingdom of Etain and the rugged kingdom of Caledor. To his left, the huge massif of the crater rose from the ground, curving northwest, gleaming with snow. To his right, the terrain dropped steeply in layers to the narrow coastline below. Ahead, the road passed over the top of the ridge, and the land of Caledor looked particularly gloomy under the sun.

Five days further ahead, the broken spire of Tal Morwen on the side of Mount Karel overlooked the dry valley and was waiting for his return. That was his home, full of wealth, but that was in the past. After his father Mencius died, the home had less than half of its residents, and it was so poor that it could not even repair the spire.

In his home, there was his mother. As long as he could remember, his mother had always been at the top of the spire, pale and proud.

Even a hundred miles away, he could see his mother's tense face, her gray hair pulled back in a knot, her hawk-like eyes eager to hear the good news he would bring back. His mother was always there, pacing the room in the spire, her hands clenched, her thin lips pursed in fear of the coming judgment.

Haval rode his horse side by side with Rahil, and the two were silent for a long time, neither of them intending to say the first word.

"My lord, we can think of other ways. You still have supporters in the Kingdom of Caledor. Your father..." After a long time, Havar finally spoke. He lowered his voice to prevent the followers around him from hearing. Among the 19 followers, only he, as the captain, knew what Lahil had experienced in Lothern.

(No money borrowed...)
"Caldor." Rasir shook his head bitterly. The name disgusted him. He repeated, "Caldor has nothing left. Nothing left."

"We have become weak, Haval! We! We were once the kings! Now even those merchants dare to stand in our way!" Rahil turned to his captain and cast a contemptuous look. Then, his emotions got out of control at that moment, and he roared and yelled.

"Maybe that's the case, but we can still think of other ways." Haval understood Rahil. He didn't mind Rahil's roar. He responded and comforted him calmly.

Rahil wanted to respond, but he paused. There was a strange smell in the air, the wind coming off the mountaintop was sharper than it should be, the sun was stronger, and even the rocks beneath his feet seemed to vibrate in a low, almost imperceptible rhythm.

Everything is more vivid, more clearly defined, more real.

"You're right. We can think of other ways. When one door closes, another door opens." Lahil looked thoughtful, staring at the stone and the sky. After a moment, he agreed.

"I don't..." Haval looked at Laciel doubtfully. His previous words were just consolation. To be honest, he couldn't think of any other solution. He didn't think that the families in the Kingdom of Caledor would be affected.

"That was many years ago..." Rachel stopped talking halfway.

"My Lord, you speak like a riddle."

Rahil did not respond to Haval, but looked up at the distant mountains. Clouds drifted down from the shoulders of the mountains, bursting with dazzling white, that was the light of magic. It had been like this for thousands of years. It was the home of powerful and graceful creatures. He stared at those mountains for a long time, new thoughts churning in his mind, and a grim expression on his face.

"We're not going home!" After a moment, he made a decision.

Behind him, his retinue had lined up in the road, their ill-tempered Caledorian warhorses stamping and neighing.

"My lord, we are already here. We either continue forward or return to Lothern." Haval was a little worried. He didn't know what new ideas Lahil had come up with. He pointed forward.

"Don't you feel it, Havar? Don't you feel the change? There is a power flowing through these mountains like blood in your veins. This madness has a source, it has infected us all, and we must find it." Rahil shook his head.

Hawar had a confused look on his face, he had no idea what Rahil was talking about.

Rahil ignored Haval. He knew that Haval was an excellent warrior and a capable advisor, but not a mage. After being washed by the Wind of Magic, there was almost no trace left. But he was different. He was the son of Mencius. His family had a long tradition. He also received ancient training. The change in the balance of the world was obvious to him. The Wind of Magic became stronger, and he could feel that the Wind of Magic was still strengthening.

One door closes, another opens.

"I've been dancing to the wrong tune for too long. I should have taken a different path."

"I don't know."

"You'll understand, you'll understand when this is all over." Rahil smiled, his eyes sparkling like gems, and for the first time since leaving Lothern, he was full of confidence.
-
High in the crater the wind picked up, bringing waves of sleet, gray and biting.

Havar labored up the steep slope, letting his horse find its own path, the snow melting into water and running down the smooth curve of his helmet and dripping into the gaps in his armor. He shuddered and looked back, and the other squires lowered their heads, looking down, their backs to the cold rain, and moved forward slowly like him, forming a long irregular line on the slope.

He knew that his followers saw no point or value in crossing the mountains, and he understood that, because he saw no point either. Over the past few days, Rahil's mood had been changing rapidly, from extreme despair to reckless optimism. Optimism was dangerous, and despair was terrible.

Perhaps Rachel's mind has collapsed. He served the Morven family when Rachel was a child, and he has been watching the changes of the Morven family over the years. He understands Rachel, and the witch's oppression of Rachel may have destroyed Rachel a long time ago.

The witch had always wanted to restore the family's honor and restore the Morven family to the prosperity it had when Mencius was alive. To this end, the witch forced Rachel to do things that Rachel did not like to do, and even things that were beyond Rachel's ability.

He knew that in order to please the witch, Rahil chose to study in the White Tower of Hoeth and immerse himself in the knowledge of fire. In order to completely master this skill, Rahil gave up almost everything.

He knew that Lahill had spent most of the family's remaining wealth on making friends, entertaining and bribing princes, and a small portion on training warriors. He had invested nothing in home construction, causing the Morven family's wealth to be insufficient to cover its expenditure.

This also resulted in Lahill being forced to go to the Emerald Sea family for a third time to borrow money. The head of the Emerald Sea family voluntarily waived the interest on the first two loans and extended the loan period, but rejected the proposal for a third loan.

He had suggested more than once to dissuade Rahil from spending money on communicating with those princes. In his opinion, this was meaningless, and he should develop himself and strengthen his homeland. Only when he was strong could he communicate with those princes. Instead of what was happening now, in the past, those princes would maintain relations with Rahil for Mencius' sake, but now...

He knew that Rahil didn't want to do anything. When he was in the White Tower of Hos, Rahil preferred to stay in his room and read various books written by Mencius on military tactics and the art of war. However, more than once, the witch seemed to be lying on Rahil's back thousands of miles away and could see what Rahil was doing. She kept writing letters to remind Rahil about Mencius' great deeds.

The water flowing on his skin woke Hawaar up. He looked down at his feet and walked to Rahil's side, ignoring the rain that seeped through the gaps in his armor. Rahil still moved forward firmly, his shoulders tightened against the weather and his head lowered.

"Magic!" Rachel suddenly stopped and looked straight ahead with a sharp gaze.

"what?"

"I should have believed in magic. I was wrong. I shouldn't have given up my father's craft." Rahil's expression was unreadable, a mixture of determination and despair, as if these two emotions were fighting in his heart, and his tone was bitter. "Perhaps..." Haval tried to find the right words to respond.

"I was destined to be a warrior and a commander. I should have mastered these mysteries instead of dancing to the laughter of those princes. They should have submitted to me and obeyed my orders!"

Haval chose not to speak anymore. He wasn't even sure if Rahil was really talking to him. He could sense the contradiction in Rahil's words.

"Now! I can feel it, I can feel the power of the world stirring, a storm coming that will ignite the dormant flames of Ulthuan. It will give me the strength to do what I need to do. It will give me the strength to do what should have been done so many years ago."

Haval's eyes became alert. In his opinion, Rahil had gone completely crazy.

"What is that, my Lord? I need to tell them. They... still don't know what we are doing."

"This is the Dragon's Back Mountains. The glory of Caledor lies in the dragons!" Lasil looked directly at Havar, his eyes flashing with determination.

"They will not wake up. Their time has passed." Haval denied.

"No! They will wake up. The Deathfang of Asarnil and Minathnir of Imrik are examples. The dragons are awakening. Also, can't you feel the magic burning?" Lahil laughed, his expression so intense that it made Havar feel uneasy.

"If that's the case, then other creatures will be attracted to it as well."

"What are you afraid of?" Rahil looked at Haval with contempt.

As if in response to his question, a resounding roar came from the cliff ahead. The war horses stopped their difficult movement and stamped their feet and raised their hooves anxiously. The warriors also became alert, drawing their weapons and forming a formation with their companions around them.

Hval felt a prick of fear at his heart, a roar deep and guttural, coming from the stone, as if from more than one mouth, like the tolling of a great bell. He smelled the scent of death on the air, drifting down from on high, tainting the breeze, and he drew his weapon, gripping the hilt tightly.

"Everything. Everything here." He responded in a voice so weak that it sounded like Rahil.

The beast rushed out of its hiding place, and fear followed.

The monster was huge, flapping its bat-like wings clumsily and laboriously into the air, its gray and mottled body like rotting meat, its heavy torso covered with spikes and tufts of coarse hair, covered with black veins and constantly changing patterns. Its huge limbs waved in the air, each claw was as big as an Asur's chest, and its long, winding tail swung behind it, exuding endless malice.

"Chimera!" The shout of a follower intensified the panic in the air.

The followers knew how terrifying the Chimera was and how slim their chances of winning were. Their faces turned pale and the hands holding their weapons became unsteady, but fortunately they did not abandon Rachel and run away.

"Warriors of Caledor! Do not fear the darkness! Remember your oath!" Rahil swung his sword, trying to shake off the sudden fear in his heart. He shouted loudly, ready to meet the challenge.

The followers responded by abandoning their uncontrollable horses, raising their shields and holding their swords, while the Chimera descended and smashed into the ranks.

Rachel gritted his teeth, overcame his fear and charged forward with his followers. When the monster fell, he controlled his body and did not fall down. At the same time, he pointed his sword at the monster's hairy neck. When the monster's wings flapped again, bringing a disgusting stench, he did not retreat, but rushed straight into the monster's huge mouth.

Beside him, a follower was knocked away by a heavy blow from the monster's front legs, and another follower was knocked away by a swing of its tail. One of the monster's three heads turned around, and its huge jaws bit the helmet of a follower. Its fangs pierced through the armor and tore the flesh underneath, and the follower's screams were swallowed up.

The fear faded, replaced by uncontrollable anger. These followers were carefully trained by him with his little remaining wealth, and now, in just one encounter, he lost three. He roared and aimed the blade at the bottom of the central head. In his anger, he didn't even see the chimera's claws swinging towards him. The claws were as fast as lightning and hit him from the left side, hitting his left shoulder.

He flew straight out and hit the rock wall hard. In the impact, his head tilted back and the sword fell from his hand.

Suddenly, the world became confused and chaotic.

The sounds on the battlefield mixed together: the clashing of swords, the rush of rain, the shouts of the warriors, and the roar of the Chimera all intertwined into a chaotic melody.

Through his blurred vision, he saw Chimera stepping on the body of one of his followers and crushing the follower's body without any care. The follower's body was flattened like a rag bag, and his flesh and blood were blurred. Then he turned around to fight the oncoming followers.

The Chimera walks on all fours like a giant white lion, but can also raise its front legs and strike out violently. As it does so, its huge wings spread above it, stirring up a stench of death that makes its followers gag and choke. Each of its strikes carries deadly force, dwarfing the warriors in front of it.

In such a narrow terrain, without the support of long-range heavy firepower, it is the king, it repels the attacks of the Asur again and again, crushing any attempt of the Asur to get close. Its claws cut through the air, bringing up a sharp sound of breaking through the air, and each attack is accurate and deadly.

The arrows shot by Havar and the other two followers were useless. The rain made the arrows weak and powerless. The arrows lost their power in the air and hit the Chimaera's skin like hitting stones. And with every huge claw strike or tail flick, a follower fell. Its tail was like a steel whip, sweeping across the follower's body and taking their lives. Each strike was carried with great force, and the follower had no power to resist it.

Rahil staggered to his feet, shaking his head to try to clear himself. When he picked up the sword, he saw the monster biting one of his followers with its jaws, while its front claws tore the chest of another follower. The follower's body was torn apart, and blood gushed out, staining the ground red. The open jaws of the middle head of the Chimera spewed out a column of blazing flames, engulfing the follower in front of it. The heat wave of the flame rushed in front of him, burning everything, and the blazing flames engulfed the follower.

Thanks to the protection of the armor, the attendant did not fall down immediately. He grabbed his burning eyes with both hands and rolled on the ground, trying to put out the flames that were like fuel oil. He screamed in pain, and his voice was particularly shrill on the battlefield. His armor became hot in the flames, but it could not completely block the burning pain.

Despite this, the remaining followers did not flee, but continued to charge at the monster on foot, trying to pierce the monster's side with swords and spears. The other two followers, led by Haval, kept adjusting their angles, trying to find a better angle to shoot at the monster's thick skin or its weak points that had no movement rules.

it's useless.

Rahil knew clearly that he had read the military tactics compiled by his father, which mentioned that the best way to deal with such monsters was to use a crossbow. The followers' attack was doomed to fail, and the Chimera was slaughtering them in batches. The ground under the Chimera's feet was soaked with blood, and its heavy claws crushed the fallen bodies into the gravel.

They are all going to die.

Rahil knew he had failed, completely failed. There was no way to recover from this defeat, and there was no possibility of returning to Caledor.

A deep darkness enveloped him, and he clenched his fists and shouted in anger. Fear left him again and was replaced by a terrible, savage rage. His body shook, and he had never felt such a primitive anger and frustration. It was as if the magical wind, the strong current he had felt for so long, had penetrated deep into his soul and filled it with a frenzy of pain.

He took a step toward the monster, dropping the sword in his hand and feeling the power in his hand, a power he had never felt since learning to master the Wind of Akshay in the White Tower of Hoeth.

Power continued to fill him, and for the first time he felt how powerful he was.

"Monster!" he roared. (End of this chapter)