Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

A fetal-like demon clambered up the warlock's robes and crawled onto his shoulders. It muttered and moaned into Vakaan's ear, hissing and screaming, drooling. Vakaan lowered his head and closed his eyes, listening to the frantic whispers emanating from its mouth.

"We are under attack!" After a moment, Wakaan opened his eyes and looked at Urbar.

However, language is no longer necessary.

Just on the broken ground in front of the war gang, a circle of purple light suddenly exploded, and strange luminous runes flickered at the edge of the aperture, jumping and dancing as if driven by some hellish will.

A chilling chill swept through the warband, causing even the fearsome warhorses to stir. This chill went beyond the chill of the flesh, and was a parasitic grip of something touching the depths of their souls.

Warmth was drained from them, gathered into the glowing circle, and the stolen life force provided the opportunity for something to break through the barriers of the world. Like a puff of smoke, it burst out of nothingness, swirling like smoke rising from a fire.

It was sickening, hideous, and ablaze with colorful light and fire. From a small beginning, it quickly expanded into a horrific nightmare, and as the smoke rolled, a flickering body appeared. Its fat, stem-like body was like a mushroom, and it quickly expanded into a terrifying life form. Rope-like limbs separated from the fat trunk, a mass of black tentacles burst from the severed cap, and its slimy roots oozed twisting tendrils, burning the land of Naggaroth with burning ichor.

The demon was spinning in the aperture, with countless small eyes, like the eyes of thousands of spiders, climbing up the stem-like body and settling in the small holes between the tentacles, staring at the panicked horses and desperate soldiers. A bony beak-like sharp blade protruded from the stem, and just below those spider eyes, a smile appeared, vicious, ruthless, and completely alien.

Not Nurgle...

It is an endless storm of fire from Tzeentch, with distorted faces all over its body, and it can annihilate the enemy with the chaos fire that distorts reality - Tzeentch Fire Demon

"Back off!"

As Vakaan screamed, his hands began to cast spells.

However, the warlock's warning came too late.

The demon's rope-like limbs opened like petals, revealing thick, greasy veins. As these limbs opened, a stream of dazzling purple flames gushed out from each rope-like vein. The first wave of demonic flames engulfed three Chaos Knights of Tzeentch, melting their horses and armor into a pile of waxy paste.

A shrill scream rang out, like the laughter of a vulture, from the beak of the fire demon. Its scream was answered, and a war cry sounded from behind the pink mist, and Tzeentchian raiders wearing black armor and horned helmets rushed over wielding axes and flails.

Chaos Lords of the Tzeentch clan, Chaos Warlocks, Fanatics, Plunderers, Chaos Warriors, Chosen Ones, Chaos Knights, and Fire Demons all gathered together and appeared in the city of Gorond at the same time. However, this did not mean that they were together. The Fire Demons and Plunderers did not appear to reinforce Urbar's warband, but rather...

Tzeentch...

Basic exercises, don't 6.

Urbar's gaze passed through the bodies of the slaughtered knights and looked at the rising smoke. He saw the cloaked warlock commanding the warriors and demons. He saw the familiar crown of thorns. He knew that this was Odwaha, the court warlock appointed by Charzach. He would never make a mistake.

He didn't know how deep Odwaha's betrayal was, nor how powerful the warlock's magic was. Now he was confused. He didn't know why the defensive magic and the walls of Gorond collapsed so quickly, and he didn't know why the group of pointed ears came so quickly. However, these confusions were not important to him. His mission was to delay time. Odwaha disobeyed Charzak's orders and chose to betray. Disobeying Charzak's will was to disobey the Lord of Change himself!

"Kill those faithless traitors!" The chosen warrior roared, his helmet amplifying the roar into a metallic roar. He drew his sword and looked directly into the demon's spider-like eyes. "I will personally deal with this chattering puppet!"

The fire demon roared, and sharp fangs sprouted from the edge of its beak. It was no brainless freak, but intelligent, and it understood the mortal's mocking words. It fed on fear and despair, and it loathed Ulbar like fly droppings on delicious sweet bread. It would cleanse itself of the disgusting filth and continue its interrupted feast.

The burning flames engulfed Urbar, but this did not stop him from rushing towards the monster whose figure was hidden in the raging flames. His warhorse screamed in the blazing fire of Tzeentch, and rider and mount disappeared in a column of flickering smoke and fire.

The dying wail of horses was heard in the flames, and then drowned out by the crackling of burning flesh. The fire demon watched its prey struggle in the burning, and let out an evil neigh of pleasure. However, when a figure appeared in the smoke column, shock was revealed in its spider-like compound eyes, and it retreated in front of the vengeful figure.

With every step, Ulbar's armor shed ash, smoke wafting from his tattered cloak and robe. The runes flickering beneath the surface of the armor moved like lightning, like moths moving through wood, and the thick protuberances of cartilage and bone on his armor slowly melted away, returning to their original form.

He raised the sword, and the steel fang in his hand suddenly burst into a blue-green light, transforming it from a normal weapon into a dazzling blade of change. The roaring energy emanating from the sword was terrifying, and even demons could not help but tremble at this ominous light.

He pounced on the retreating monster like a tiger on its prey. He thrust the flaming sword into the fire demon's fungus-like body, the blade of change piercing through the fire demon's body. The long sword was like the fangs of Tzeentch, cutting through the demon's ethereal essence.

The demon withered under the Chosen's sword, shrunken like a dried flower, its rope-like limbs shattered into twig-like debris, and its face collapsed into a hollow shell within its torso.

Ulbar shook the demon's remains off his sword and crushed the dried remains into powder with his boot. Just as he was about to crush the demon's corpse into dust, a halo of purple runes flashed around him again.

The blurry shape of another demon began to materialize in the second summoning circle.

A blinding light exploded, and Harbur shielded his eyes with his hands, then refocused his attention on the chains that bound him. Stimulated by the terrifying energy, his limbs that had mutated a few hours ago became strong enough to twist the flexible metal chains. When the first predator rushed towards him, he finally freed one hand, and then his hand turned into a crab claw with his mind. The huge sickle-shaped blade slashed across the predator's wrist, cutting off its palm and rolling it on the broken ground. Before the predator could react, the open crab claw clamped it firmly.

Habul sneered as he watched the enemy struggle. Then, his arm transformed again and turned into a giant axe. When part of the crab claws merged to form a new weapon, it directly cut the enemy in half from the waist. The body cut in half twitched and struggled on the ground like a stranded fish.

He ignored the twitching Reaver and used his mutant limbs to strike the remaining shackles, while his eyes were fixed on the battle scene around him. The Reavers were already engaged in a melee with Urbar's warband. The Reavers had a clear advantage in numbers. Although Urbar's knights fought bravely, they could not reverse the situation.

Farther away, Habul saw the figure of a warlock commanding the enemy army and demons, and the warlock's laughter came from the shadows.

The warlocks, clad in robes, wielded burning red snakes of light from their hands, spells that tore and cut through the knights’ bodies and armor like hot knives through butter.

Vakaan was facing off against the warlock, standing on a disc, raining his spells down on the ambushers from above.

Harbur watched as one predator was ripped to pieces by the howling whip of demonic lightning, while another was torn apart by beams of blue mutant energy. Occasionally, the two warlocks would engage in direct combat, releasing energy that exploded in each other's counterattacks, leaving behind a pungent smell and a hazy afterimage of light and mist.

"Traitor! How dare you go against the will of Charzak?" Wakaan screamed at the warlock.

"You don't deserve this honor at all! When I complete the task that you cannot complete, the Lord of Change will smile on me! By then, Charzak will understand that the person he should have chosen is me, not you worthless bastards!" Odwaha roared angrily.

Harpur saw that Odwaha had once again unleashed a powerful spell at Vakaan. This time, the magic was not destroyed by the warlock's counterspell, but seemed to draw even greater power from it. Odwaha's spell bounced off the invisible protective shell that Vakaan had woven, and instead bombarded the fighting team.

A group of Marauders and Chaos Knights were enveloped in an explosion of orange light and purple flames. They screamed as their bodies were twisted and corroded by the warlock's unfathomable magic. Flesh melted and cracked, new organs grew from the body, and old organs collapsed. Bones pierced the skin, and the skin became thick like scales. A frenzied and chaotic change infected these warriors, cruelly tearing their bodies apart, presenting a terrible scene of the power of the Lord of Change.

Harbur shifted his gaze away from the marauders who died tragically a few steps away from him and fixed his eyes on the target of his hatred.

The tattooed fanatic was being attacked by a pillager who was not affected by the magic of Odwaha. His eyes were full of fear, but he still held the skull covered with patterns in his left hand tightly. Under the pillager's attack, he was defeated step by step. The insignificant dagger could not compete with the enemy's heavy battle axe.

Habur broke free of the last of his chains and charged at the Reaver. His mutated arm transformed into a bone sword and stabbed the Kurgan in the back, impaling him. He threw his dying foe to the ground, breaking his neck with a brutal kick, then leaned over to wrench the axe from the Reaver's grasp.

"I saved you only to kill you myself!" Harbur roared at the fanatic.

But Tolku was not afraid. He looked at Habul with an indescribable look in his eyes. After a moment, he shook his head and sneered, showing Habul the skull with pink swirls and emerald diamond patterns in his hand. The strange pattern firmly attracted Habul's attention and made him unable to look away.

"Idiot! You killed that bastard because I ordered you to! I am the master!" Tolku turned his head and stared at Odwaha's fierce attack on Wakaan again. Then, he gave an order, "Now, I want you to kill that warlock!"

"This is not over yet!" Harbur fought hard against the burning impulse in his mind, but the force against his will made him turn to the warlocks who were confronting him, and he growled through gritted teeth. "Of course it's not over yet." Tolku taunted, he pointed a bony finger at the Norscan, "When you finally understand, everything will begin!"

Harbur glared at the fanatic, but eventually had to look away, his rebellious body succumbing to the fanatic's and the hypnotic skull's magic, stepping into the bloody mud left behind by the spell.

Torn limbs twitched and twisted on the ground, and the broken bodies kept exploding and dissolving. As the energy of the spell gradually dissipated, a trace of unclean life remained in these chaotic products. He stepped around these disgusting residues carefully, and he didn't even believe that his mutant body could be immune to the erosion of such evil residues.

Suddenly, a huge bear-like monster crawled out of the mud and pounced on Habul, roaring with its three open mouths.

Harbur swung the battle axe he had taken from the Reaver and slashed through one of the monster's front legs, sending it face-first into the bloody mud, naked muscle tentacles sprouting from the brown hair on the monster's back, lashing at him blindly.

One of the tentacles wrapped around his arm, holding him in place with bone-breaking force. He raised his axe and chopped the slimy tentacle apart like firewood, and his arm morphed again, sliding out of the tentacle's grip.

He grasped the tentacles with his bony claws and dragged the deformed monster toward him. The bear-like creature slowly crawled toward him, its open mouth dripping with slime and emitting a series of roars and snarls.

He raised the battle axe in his hand and chopped at the dense eye protrusions on the top of the monster's head. The monster screamed, and its whole body trembled as it tried to escape, even using one of its huge claws to cut off the bound tentacles by itself, just to get out of the predicament.

He wanted to chase after the blind monster, but his body once again went against his will, the sudden command swept through his mind like a tsunami, and he involuntarily turned to the warlock battlefield.

By this time, Vakaan was already losing ground. Odwaha summoned another demon, a terrifying pink-glowing creature with ape-like limbs and a fanged, sucker-shaped mouth. Facing the dual attacks of the warlock and the demon, he found that he could no longer deal with either side.

Harbul spat on the ground. He could put off the matter of getting rid of the control for now. He had already seen Odwaha's methods, and now it was time to let the warlock see what a real warrior was and how to kill the enemy.

Blood dripped from Odwaha's gloomy face as he struggled to maintain his fading magical attacks on his enemy while trying to control the demon he summoned from escaping his control, which stretched his concentration to the limit.

He knew, he knew very well that once the demon broke free from control, its only desire would be to tear his flesh and bones apart before returning to the Chaos Realm!

The gods' servants will never tolerate being enslaved by mortals!
From the corner of his eye, he saw a plunderer with two horns on its head rushing towards him, but he could not spare the energy to defeat it with magic. He angrily shouted an order to the pair of plunderers behind him as guards. The two plunderers in armor roared, smiled with satisfaction, and could not wait to join the battle.

He watched the pair of marauders stride away, and then had to refocus all his attention as the pink horror's binding circle began to flicker slightly, as if it was about to fail.

Unfortunately, he did not see the raider charging at him, crashing into the two Kurgans like an avalanche, or the raider's axe slicing the head of one of the Kurgans cleanly from his neck, like cutting a flower stem.

Blood splashed across the second Kurgan's face, blinding him, and as he stumbled back, Habul's blade-like arm pierced his chest, drilling deep beneath his ribs and tearing out his lungs and heart. With his last breath, he tried to launch a final attack, but Habul easily swung the axe, knocking away the mace in his hand, and then Habul slammed the curved horn of his head into his face, smashing his features into a bloody mess.

Habul threw the torn Kurgan's body aside and stared angrily at the robed warlock. After a violent roar, he rushed towards the warlock.

Fear appeared in Odwaha's wide eyes, and he hesitated for a moment, not knowing which danger to deal with first. When he was forced to untie the demon's restraints and turned to face Habur, a horrifying howl of joy rang out on the battlefield.

Whatever the choice, it's too late.

Harbur's mutant arm slashed down like a sickle, slashing hard into the warlock's shoulder. Odwaha's arm fell off the shoulder joint, hanging on his side only by a slippery tendon. The warlock, in great pain, released a wave of red light, knocking him away and sending him crashing to the ground.

Harbul coughed up blood and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth in disgust. After seeing Odwaha turn and flee, he stood up with difficulty, feeling the rubbing of broken ribs. Disgust turned into cold laughter, because he saw the warlock running back in a panic, and the demon that had broken free was chasing after him.

Odwaha poured his remaining strength into fighting these monsters, trying to drive the demons back to the realm of gods and ghosts.

Harbur gripped the axe tightly, then pulled his arm back. With great force, he threw the heavy broadsword across the distance between the warlock and the plunderer. The brutal blade smashed into Odwahar's back, bringing a rain of blood. The warlock's body was pierced by the axe, folded into a ball, and fell heavily to the ground.

A shimmering purple mist materialized between the fallen warlock and the demon, the monsters roaring and raging but making no attempt to pass through the barrier. They slowly became blurry, shadowy, and after a moment, only a sickening stench reminded the world of their brief intrusion.

Valkaan rode his flying disc and hovered above the fallen Odwaha. He waved his hand and the mist he summoned disappeared. He pointed coldly at the injured warlock and stared at him mercilessly.

The glory of defeating traitors belongs not to demons but to mortals.

At Vakaan's command, a twisted mass of chaos-spawn slowly crawled across the battlefield. The bear-like abomination seethed and roiled in its vile growth, but somewhere in its mutated mind, beneath its mad animal unconsciousness, it recognized the man whose magic had transformed it into such a wretched state.

When Habul saw the disgusting monstrosity taking revenge, he felt sick to his stomach. In comparison, being ravaged by those demons might be a better ending?

Harbur turned around from the horrible sight and immediately fell to his knees. Pain devoured his consciousness like a flame, his throat emitted a low gasp, black blood continued to flow from the corner of his mouth, and his heart seemed to be devoured by flames. Scarlet light flashed before his eyes, and his last thought was: dying as a slave of others is a disgusting ending.

However, he did not pass out, and his vision was blurry but not completely out of focus.

Just when he thought he was about to be swallowed by despair, he saw a group of vague figures emerging from the fog on the street not far away. He blinked his eyes that were stung by blood and sweat, and forced himself to see clearly.

They were a group of warriors riding on monsters. The monsters were twisted, huge, and had strange biological features. One of them was the largest. He had seen these monsters before. Last night, he was almost killed by these monsters and the knights on their backs. The warrior on the huge figure was even more terrifying. As a warrior, he could feel the horror of that warrior.

He watched the terrifying warrior blow the horn and the huge monster roar.

The ground shook as the figures charged forward, like a violent torrent rushing toward the battlefield. Their bodies were covered in black armor, with scarlet spots inlaid on their helmets, and every step the monsters took brought a heart-pounding impact.

Habul's body trembled as the figure approached, but at this moment, a strange power surged in his body.

The power was like a weak warm current at first, flowing through his body, and then it became powerful, like a raging tide washing over his limbs. He gasped, and his hands unconsciously clenched into fists, his nails piercing deep into his palms, blood dripping, but was swallowed by the surging power. It was as if a ball of fire was burning in his chest, beating wildly with his heart.

A deep and majestic voice sounded in his mind, shaking his consciousness like thunder.

"leave here."

Habul's eyes suddenly widened. The voice sounded like an order, but also like a warning. He couldn't tell where the voice came from. It seemed to come from all directions, and it seemed to come directly from the depths of his soul. This was completely different from when he was controlled by the fanatics. This voice had an irresistible power that made him almost subconsciously want to obey.

"Leave here." The voice sounded again, with unquestionable determination.

Habul struggled to stand up, but his body was still as heavy as lead. However, the power gradually took control of his limbs, allowing him to climb up from the ground bit by bit. The pain was still as sharp as a knife, but he felt that he was being pushed forward by some invisible force, driving him to take steps.

On the street, charging figures were approaching. Their weapons gleamed coldly in the moonlight, and the roaring monsters were chilling.

Habul didn't look, but turned around and staggered to the end of the street. Every step seemed to be a race against death, and every breath was a game of life and death.

He didn't know where he was going, nor who the voice came from, but the surging power and the voice in his ears seemed to be leading him through the darkness and into an unknown future. (End of this chapter)