Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

A group of Duruchis lined up in full gear rushed into the military camp, led by Hadris, the admiral of the Eternal Terror Fortress. His sea dragon cloak and octopus-style armor were particularly conspicuous among the crowd of followers.

When Hadris saw the mercenaries in chaos, he shouted with hatred. He was very angry. He knew that these mercenaries were unreliable, but he didn't expect that the camp bombing would really happen as Dorien predicted, and it happened first in his jurisdiction. How could he report to his superiors?

With the arrival of the army, the camp suddenly fell into even more terrible chaos and disorder. Hadris's roar was like a spark that ignited the powder keg, instantly setting off the entire camp. The mercenaries were already on the verge of rioting, and now their sanity completely collapsed. The flames of the camp explosion spread rapidly, invading every corner like a plague.

"Kill them! Kill them!" Hadris's order was like thunder, deafening and setting off a bloody storm.

His followers and family guards were like ferocious beasts, their weapons flashing with deadly cold light. Their charge swept through like a tide, dragging countless mercenaries into the whirlpool of death.

The elite garrisons of Chapeyuto and the Southern Outpost quickly joined in the frenzied massacre, their armor flashing in the chaotic light, and these veterans from Nagarond and Nagor did not hesitate to swing their weapons at anyone who stood in their way.

The scattered lines of the mercenaries were broken in an instant, and the camp was filled with terrified screams, roars, and the sound of metal colliding. Blood gushed out from pierced chests and broken limbs like a fountain, dyeing the ground of the camp dark red.

Crazy, everyone is crazy.

The mercenaries fled in all directions, some trying to find a safe exit, while others fought back desperately, but facing the overwhelming attack, their resistance seemed so fragile. Blades and arrows crossed in the air, blood was spilt in the fierce battle, screams came one after another, and it was like a scene in purgatory.

The flames spread, and the tents and wooden barracks were reduced to ashes in the flames. Smoke filled the air, and the pungent smell almost suffocated all the Duruchi. The battlefield was filled with despair and fear. Hadris's eyes became colder and more ruthless in the chaos. His anger burned like a flame, and he would not allow anyone to escape. He would wash this camp with blood, wash away his shame, and he would make all those who dared to disobey him pay the price.

An old soldier who had served in the Black Guard roared and swung his halberd at the mad mercenary. The mercenary's fighting skills were worthy of ridicule in his eyes. The halberd split the handle of the mercenary's weapon and cut through the mercenary's iconic Karonde Karl costume.

The wounded mercenary screamed, blood gushing out from the wound on his broken arm. The veteran who had fought with the Black Guard roared, and he from the Nagor kicked the crippled mercenary who could no longer hold a weapon to the ground.

The fallen mercenary tripped the mercenary who was about to rush up from behind. The small assault formation composed of Black Guards and Dread Spearmen bypassed the two fallen mercenaries and continued to fight. The Black Sharp Crossbowmen following behind them brought the crossbows close and shot, first killing the fallen mercenary, and then the disabled mercenary.

The Black Crossbowman who had completed the shooting laughed wildly. He was from Naggarond and all five fingers on his right hand were broken, so he could no longer pick up a weapon. Now...

Furious, Hadris fought with a deadly display of swordsmanship, his blade maiming mercenaries who screamed and fell to the ground. With bloodshot eyes, he snarled and roared, executing his terrible art with mechanical and ruthless precision. Even when a mercenary managed to lacerate his leg, he did not cry out in pain, but slashed the attacker's throat with a backhand swing.

Suddenly, the whole earth shook, and a strong tremor appeared under the feet of the Duruchis. A large number of Duruchis who were fighting fell to the ground due to the sudden tremor.

A strong light flashed in the sky, blinding him and causing him to stumble back. As he retreated, a mercenary who was in the backlight flew over, raising his double-edged sword high. He raised his long sword high to block the enemy who flew over. The longer the sword, the stronger it was. The magic long sword pierced the mercenary's breastplate and the back ribs.

"Leave..." The mercenary spat out blood and pushed himself towards the inserted blade, trying to cut Hadris' neck with his own sword.

The bright light flashed and Hadris, whose vision returned to normal, looked at the Duruchi hanging on the sword. He knew this Duruchi. An excellent captain from Caronde Carr, a mercenary with excellent skills in all aspects. The two of them had worked together for nearly a century and had experienced many life-and-death battles together. Four days ago, they were sitting in the Mask Palace eating Asheril's delicacies and toasting to a feast.

There was no wavering in his bloodshot eyes, nor any sorrow for killing his friend. He didn't wait for the captain to finish his words, and with a swipe of his sword, he split the captain in half, and his body rolled onto the bloodstained ground.

Seeing the captain being killed, the remaining mercenaries following the captain did not flee as usual. They continued to attack frantically, fighting each other and trying to chop down any movable objects in front of them.

"Speed ​​up!" Hadris roared angrily after chopping down another mercenary.

The mercenary looked at the hilt protruding from his chest, frowned, and opened his mouth wide, wanting to say something, but couldn't speak. As Loccia rotated the hilt, his eyes turned white and he fell to the ground.

The death of the mercenary did not dispel the idea of ​​attacking his companions. The companion standing on the left of the mercenary was still waving the sharp blade in his hand, but at the moment he opened his mouth, a crossbow arrow shot into his mouth and pierced the back of his head. He fell to the ground, and blood spurted out of his mouth in a red arc.

The enemies that Loxia faced were stronger than those that Hadris faced. These enemies were organized and quickly formed a formation as soon as the camp was bombed, preparing to break out. After failing to break out and being pushed back into the camp, they filled the width of the camp entrance, not giving the opponent any chance to outflank, while also fighting hard and making their last struggle.

But it was useless. The mercenaries in the front row who were blocking the entrance were still shouting and fighting hard, while the mercenaries in the back row began to turn around and flee, but it was also useless. The Reaper Ballista that Dorien had deployed was already in place, and the split arrows fired from the ballista knocked down a large number of mercenaries who were trying to escape.

Loxia faced the enemy in front of him, his eyes behind the mask as sharp as an eagle. The enemy's face was covered with hideous scars, and his shaved head glowed ominously in the gloomy light.

The tamer held a multi-headed whip in one hand and a blood-stained dagger in the other. His muscles were tense with anger and his eyes were burning with crazy fire.

Loxia recognized the enemy before him, an old acquaintance who had come from his hometown with him, who once controlled the most ferocious beast, but was now alone and the beast was no longer there.

The trainer roared and swung the multi-headed whip over his head. Each of the whip's straps was inlaid with sharp curved teeth, which flashed a cold light like the teeth of a wild beast. The whip drew a fierce arc in the air and pounced on Loxia like a heavy net.

A sneer flashed across Loxia's lips, and the sword in his left hand quickly drew a large arc, and the blade collided with the whip, making a harsh metal collision sound. His sword blocked the whip with deadly sharp curved teeth. But the tamer did not give up. The whip in his hand was like a living thing, spinning flexibly, trying to entangle Loxia's arm and restrain it.

Feeling the threat of the whip, Loxia reacted quickly. He leaped up and twisted his body gracefully in the air like a swift bird of prey. His heel hit the trainer's chest accurately, with such force that the trainer staggered back and almost fell to the ground. After landing, he thrust the blade straight into the trainer's thigh, the blade piercing through the muscle and bone, bringing out a pool of blood. The trainer gasped in pain, but his madness did not weaken, but became more intense.

The tamer swung the multi-headed whip again, and this time the whip hit Loccia's left arm with a force that tore through the air. The curved fangs on the whip tried to tear through his armor and tear open his flesh. However, his armor was forged from hard Kis steel, and the tamer's whip, despite its ferocity, failed to penetrate this solid protection. The curved fangs could only leave a few scratches on his armor, but failed to cause any real damage.

Without hesitation, Loxia grabbed the whip of the trainer with his backhand and pulled it with all his strength. The trainer with a leg injury was pulled off balance by this huge force and fell heavily to the ground with a dull crash. A cold light flashed in his eyes, and he grasped the hilt of the sword with his backhand and stabbed the sword into the trainer's back without hesitation.

The blade pierced through the tamer's flesh and pierced directly into his heart. His blood-red eyes widened, filled with disbelief and pain. He opened his mouth slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he could only murmur in a low voice, and the sound gradually weakened in his throat. His body trembled slightly under the sword, and then gradually stopped struggling. His eyes were fixed on the cloudy sky, and as he exhaled his last breath, the light of life in his eyes was completely extinguished.

After dealing with the tamer in front of him, Locsia looked up at the sky, knowing that a new round was about to begin. He pulled the net wrapped around his arm and freed his arm from the restraint. When he stood up again, he looked around. His followers and family guards had dealt with the enemies around them and were pulling out their weapons from the pool of blood. Not many enemies were resisting. A female mercenary used a combination of stabbing and kicking to force back a dark swordsman, then turned and ran away, but she was shot to the ground before she ran a few steps. She fell to the ground, twitching, wailing, and screaming.

A Duruchi who had gone mad in the fight jumped on the mercenary and strangled the mercenary's throat with his arms. Even though the mercenary kept stabbing his ribs with a dagger, he stubbornly persisted.

Loxia smiled bitterly, walked over, and kicked Druki's groin with his boot. He ignored Druki, who was curled up on the ground groaning in pain, and kicked the dagger out of the mercenary's hand.

At this moment, he looked at the mercenary's face and suddenly thought of something. He had seen this mercenary before during the Battle of Gorond. This mercenary and a group of mercenaries avoided the battle and played dice. He was the one who promised and recruited them, and then he did it until today.

Behind the mask, he looked at the mercenary looking at him indifferently, then he raised his head to look at the sky, and then turned and left. For a moment, he even wanted to take off the mask on his face and return it to Dacus. The cost of wearing this mask on his face was too high, but he had no choice, he had already put it on, and he could only keep going.

Dorian, who did not participate in the battle, also smiled bitterly. He knew that Loxia and Hadris were staunch supporters of Dacus just like him for various reasons, but he also knew that those mercenaries and pirates were not.

Although he had little combat experience, he was studious. After the Battle of Gorond, he had been studying and researching everything that happened during the Battle of Gorond. He knew that those mercenaries and pirates were unreliable and could only fight with the wind and on the defensive, but not such a tough battle that required huge psychological pressure. The enemy he faced this time was far more difficult than the one during the Battle of Gorond.

Under such a huge psychological pressure, collapse was inevitable. He was prepared for the camp to be blown up. He thought it was inevitable, and those mercenaries and pirates who were originally prepared to take advantage would definitely seek a chance to escape, but he didn't expect it to come so soon. It was only the fourth day.

He looked at the lizardmen war groups around him that were ready to go, and he didn't know what to say. If he wanted, he hoped that all his soldiers would be these disciplined and combat-conscious lizardmen. But he also knew that this was impossible. Only in a few cases could he, Valahar of Asheril, command the lizardmen to fight, just like now.

"Everything has been resolved. They need a short rest." Buckron, holding a blood-stained sword, walked over and said in a deep voice.

"Ms. Vienne, everything is the same as yesterday." Dorian nodded first, then said to Ms. Vienne who had not been involved in the battle. His order was very vague and very unclear, but he knew that his former superior knew what to do.

He also knew that his old superior would be reused after Daxus's return and become a Dread Lord again, a Dread Lord who could lead a legion, instead of the Dread Lord like before.

"As you command." Viena saluted solemnly and left.

"Blow the trumpet!"

As the horn sounded, the behemoth moved, Umak's guards moved, and Asheril's garrison moved.
-
The Blood God Khorne unleashes his fury upon his throne of brass, beneath a mountain of skulls, the heads of great warriors slaughtered by his followers over countless eons. He wants only blood to be spilt in his name, but he cares not where it comes from.

Rage erupted silently, the sky suddenly became dark, and heavy dark clouds covered the entire realm, as if foreshadowing the bloody frenzy that was about to come. It began to rain from the sky, but this was not ordinary rain, but rain with blood, sticky and scarlet, born from the anger of Khorne.

The red rain had a sticky texture, like a mixture of blood and turbid liquid, dripping on Zahuitak and the surrounding rainforest. The raindrops falling on the ground made a dull sound, as if some ancient and evil ritual was going on. The blood rain gathered into small streams, flowing down from the top of the ruins, dyeing the ruins red, dyeing the entire ground red, as if the earth was crying for the wrath of Khorne.

In the city of Zahuitak, red, black and bronze armor gleamed in the sultry morning shrouded in heat. Row after row of Khorne servants appeared in the Middle Ages, in the mysterious land of Lustria, in the central square of Zahuitak. They formed a huge hollow circle around a huge pile of bones.

To the north, the stone pyramid where Lord Zul once lived was reduced to gray bones, full of horror and blasphemy. Behind the pyramid was a huge abyss that cut Zahuitak off from the rainforest. On the other three sides, the hillside sloped gently upwards, extending all the way to the rainforest.

A wide road paved with skulls, like a bloody vein leading to the abyss, runs through the center of the city and extends to the rainforest in the south. Each skull tells a story. They were once trophies in the hands of Khorne's servants, and the remains of countless slaughtered warriors, soldiers and innocents. Every step on this road is stepped on the broken bones, accompanied by a faint creaking sound, like the last wail of those trampled lives after death.

The trampled soil and dark bloody stains silently testified to the large-scale battle that took place here a few days ago. It was a sacrifice of blood and flesh, a gift from the servants of Khorne to please their master. Now, this road is empty, but it is still full of the breath of death, because in the next moment, more blood will fall on this road paved with skulls.

All the servants of Khorne present were eager to slaughter, eager to fill this road with more flesh and blood, but now everything was still. Their eyes were fixed on the square made of brass and skulls in front of them. This open space was like a sacred skull altar, symbolizing the supreme glory of Khorne. Each skull was carefully placed, and each piece of brass was polished to a gleam, calling for more lives to be sacrificed here.

The rain became more and more violent, and the sticky blood rain poured down from the sky like a waterfall, soaking the earth and dyeing every stone and every skull red. The servants felt the awakening of the power from their master and could no longer maintain their irrepressible silence. They began to laugh wildly in the blood rain, and their laughter was mixed with anger and fanaticism. Their bodies were soaked in blood, and the blood rain left deep red marks on their armor and skin, blending into this bloody world.

As the blood rain fell, the servants' laughter became wilder, their might and arrogance grew, all of which foreshadowed the coming destruction and chaos. They were no longer silent hunters, but instead transformed into furious demons, proclaiming Khorne's boundless rage and destructive power.

The air was filled with the smell of blood, and every drop of rain seemed to be summoning more massacres and sacrifices. These servants were ready in this endless rain of blood, preparing to turn this land into a complete purgatory.

The servants of Khorne moved, and at the forefront of the demon army was Cerberus... no, it was Karanak, also known as the "Hound of Vengeance", "Endless Hunter" and "Claw of the Skull Throne", a three-headed demon flesh hound.

It is said that if a mortal or a demon incurs the Blood God's wrath, he rises from his cranial throne and blows a loud note from his great brass trumpet. The deafening echo reverberates across mortals and demons alike, like ominous thunder, waking the dormant fleshhounds and bidding them to hunt.

Few creatures survive the bloody pursuits of these ruthless predators, for the Flesh Hounds are impeccable natural hunters, never losing the scent of their prey, whether in swamp, forest, or rocky plains.

Now, Khorne's greatest instruments of vengeance, the snarling, howling flesh hounds with red scales and scorpion tails, followed closely behind Karanak. The ground cracked and bubbled as they passed, corroding the soil they trod.

Following closely behind them was an endless sea of ​​red, furious and thirsty for blood, as if Khorne had arrived. Fierce and deadly, they were bloodletters who held high rank among the mortal worshippers of the Blood God, led by Skullreapers and Bloodreapers. They followed their leader, howling in defiance through the rain, swearing to the Lord of War to kill all they met in the name of Khorne.

The earth trembled as thousands of claws and hooves marched in unison to the infernal drumbeat, bone standards dripping with blood rose from the carmine ranks, tattered banners and skull-adorned bloody icons pointed to the sky, and brass trumpets sounded the glorious march, their voices cutting the air like a whetstone screaming on a knife's edge.

Rows of blood-crushers marched shoulder to shoulder, staring with scarlet eyes. They were the most respected bloodletters before, and now they are promoted to blood-crushers. They are the shock cavalry that Khorne is proud of. They are proficient in combat skills and can charge like an unstoppable iron bull. They are extremely deadly. When they rush into the battlefield, they will flatten everything and crush the enemy into powder.

But soon, the offensive formation of the Khorne army was disrupted again, just like the previous few days, and it was repeated again... (End of this chapter)