Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

Habul's movements froze at that moment, his arms frozen in mid-air, his mutated limbs slowly returning to their original state, like a broken limb that had lost all its strength. On his chest, a deep sword wound pierced through his heart, and blood gushed out from the crack like a fountain of blood, dyeing the surrounding land deep red.

His body was shaking violently, and his eyes were filled with disbelief. It was not the first time he was on the verge of death, but this time, he felt not only the exhaustion of his body, but also a complete end.

"Trash, garbage, bugs!"

Zakan's voice suddenly exploded, sweeping through Habul's consciousness like a violent storm.

The sound was not like a whisper, nor a roar, but a soul-piercing force that penetrated directly into the last depths of Habul's consciousness. He tried to speak in response, to roar, to fight back, but he could do nothing. His limbs began to spasm, and a burning pain ran through his body. Every inch of his skin and flesh was torn and reshaped by some unknown force.

Then, a terrifying force surged out of his body. This force was not his own, and he could not control it. The force attacked his consciousness wantonly, crushing his remaining will. He could feel that the force was like a venomous snake, easily destroying the barrier built by his mind and soul. The evil essence was like a torrent, filling his body.

This was not the will of Habur, but the intention of Zhakan. Pure Chaos will, with endless malice and destruction.

"Are you feeling sad, bug?"

Tzakan's voice was mocking and cruel, drawing strength from Habur's rapidly crumbling soul like a drinker gulping down the last drops of fine wine.

At this moment, Habur's body suddenly trembled violently, and then disintegrated into a ball of dark fog. His flesh, blood, bones and even soul were all devoured by this evil force.

As the thick fog gradually condensed, a completely different existence appeared.

Zhakan comes to this world again.

Its form is like a nightmare, which cannot be described clearly in mortal language. It has a tall body, exuding a chaotic aura that is difficult to look directly at. Its skin is like the flowing night sky, covered with twisted runes and flickering light spots, and each rune tells a dark and crazy story.

A pair of huge horns extend from its head, curving like a spiral and with sharp blades at the ends. Its face is full of an evil sneer, ferocious and terrifying, and its six eyes emit a strange purple light that can look directly into the depths of the soul and reveal all the secrets.

"I want to thank you, Habul."

Zakhan sneered and said, its voice was low and shocking, like a mixture of thousands of whispers, chilling, "Your soul serves as a bridge, allowing me to descend once again into this land that longs for chaos."

"Mercy? You're begging for mercy?"

It raised one of its sharp claws and slowly clenched it, as if to crush everything in the air into powder. At the same time, Habur's soul struggled in its body, weak and powerless.

"Shut up, mortal! You have completed your mission. Now, all that remains is nothingness."

It growled, its voice full of coldness and disdain. Its essence, like an endless abyss, began to invade the last remnants of Habur's soul. Its evil power was like a torrent, completely crushing the soul of the Norscan barbarian and turning it into nothingness.

Habul's last wail dissipated in Zhakan's sneer, leaving no trace.

The elves present were all shocked by Zhakan's terrifying arrival.

Even Tolandil, an elven warrior who had traveled deep into the Chaos Realm and witnessed countless terrifying existences, was stunned at this moment. His eyes were fixed on the demon in front of him, his face was as pale as if it had lost its blood color, and the hand holding the bow was shaking slightly. He thought that the horror he had experienced was enough to sharpen his will, but the arrival of Zakan was far beyond his cognition. This was not only a threat to the body, but also a direct impact on the soul.

Eltharion was standing closest to Zakhan. He felt the pressure of the demon that seemed to devour everything, and his body involuntarily took a few steps back. Although his legs could still support him, the fear in his heart surged like a tide. Zakhan's eyes swept over him, and his six burning eyes were full of mockery and contempt. At this moment, he seemed to see that his fate was coming to an end, being swallowed by darkness and becoming part of the abyss of chaos.

"A little elven prince as an appetizer, followed by a feast for an army?" Zakan's voice was like two millstones grinding bones, harsh and low. "Or should I keep you for dessert and let you watch your people being devoured with your own eyes? Wouldn't that taste better?"

The demon's voice was like a spell, causing Eltharion's heart to tighten suddenly. He could feel the shadow of death looming over him.

The next moment, Zakan paused, the laughter stopped abruptly, and the burning eyes suddenly narrowed slightly. It noticed something and focused its gaze on Eltharion again.

"What's going on? Your soul... is unusual. You are shrouded in a misty power... a pure life force that makes me sick. Why... this power makes me feel cold?" Its tone became low and alert.

"What's wrong, demon? Have you lost your appetite?"

Eltharion didn't know that he was protected at the critical moment. But this didn't prevent him from having an illusion. He seemed to feel doubt and hesitation in the demon's eyes. The fear in his heart was suppressed a little. He took a deep breath. Thanks to Rofix's temptation last night, he broke free from the fear. He straightened his body, looked directly at Zakan, and questioned.

"I will give your soul to my Lord!"

Zakan roared, knowing that his plan had failed. At the most critical moment, the elf he was about to possess was protected. That force was not something he could resist or conquer. He roared in anger and then pounced on Eltharion at an incredible speed.

The huge claws tore the ground, and mud and stones flew, but Eltharion dodged nimbly. His fanged sword flashed a cold light and pointed directly at Zakhan's body. The blade cut through the demon's skin, and the twisted flesh peeled off like melted wax, emitting a pungent and foul odor of venom. As the venom flowed, the tangled and squirming Deha overflowed from the demon's wounds, like countless twisted maggots, making him sick.

Zakan let out a shrill scream, and the sound was like a sharp blade piercing the soul, causing the elves present to cover their ears in pain, kneel on the ground, and hold their heads tightly with their hands, trying to resist the unbearable noise.

Eltharion was closest to the demon, his body twitching violently in pain and he could barely stand. The scream tore through his soul and brought him to the brink of collapse in pain.

"Shut up, demon!"

However, before the echo of the scream faded, a firm voice rang out on the battlefield.

Tolandil finally broke free from Zakhan's oppression. He shouted and stood up suddenly, raising the longbow in his hand. The arrow of the spark arrow shone with pure light. He shot the arrow at Zakhan with all his strength. The arrow cut through the darkness and hit Zakhan's chest accurately. Zakhan roared in pain, his movements interrupted by this blow, and his body staggered slightly.

Inspired by Tolandil, the rest of the elves also returned to normal. They gritted their teeth and quickly drew their bows and shot arrows. Spark arrows with holy light came one after another, shooting at the demons like a meteor shower.

Tzakan's body was pierced by arrows, and the light of the sparks burned in its twisted flesh, causing its every roar to be accompanied by a burst of dark flames.

Eltharion gritted his teeth and quickly approached Zakhan while he was suppressed by the rain of arrows. He raised his fang sword high, leaped up suddenly, and stabbed the blade into Zakhan's side. The demon let out a more shrill roar and waved his claws to try to repel him, but he nimbly dodged the attack and used the sword to cut another deep scar in the demon's flesh.

He did not retreat, he swung his fang sword and slashed at Zakan again and again, each sword carrying divine power, forcing the demon back. Every time he swung the sword, Zakan would roar in pain, and the glittering light on the sword seemed to be the nemesis of chaos and darkness.

Zakhan let out a low roar, a mixture of anger and resistance. The evil roar echoed on the battlefield, as if to tear every bit of courage in the air. It had tasted the sharpness of the fang sword and the scorching fire of the spark arrow. It knew very well that the weapons in the hands of these mortals were not ordinary things. What was even more hateful was that these elves had the courage to use weapons to counter its power.

Feeling the unfavorable situation, Zakan's six eyes burning with hellfire turned, trying to find a way to escape. However, when it turned its body to the back, it saw that new elf warriors had blocked its retreat. These elves held longbows and halberds, their eyes were firm, and none of them retreated out of fear. In front of them, a warrior in dark blue armor slowly stepped out.

"You can't escape, demon."

Seonlan, the leader of the Heart of Winter, raised his halberd high, and an icy glow enveloped his body. His tone was as cold as a blade in the ice and snow, and he swung his halberd at Zakhan, forcing the demon to turn back.

Tzarkan was forced to face Eltharion again, its waxy, melting face twisted in rage, its split lips pulled back from its horrible fangs in a weird sneer. Its eyes burned with a blazing hellfire that was not only hot, but also had a soul-corrosive oppression.

"Look, look, what is this?" It said hoarsely, and its voice was like an ancient echo from the depths of a volcano, low, sharp, full of sarcasm and chill. That voice not only echoed in the air, but was more like a poisonous snake, trying to drill into the hearts of all the elves present.

"Do you know what you are doing? Why are you here on this land? You are being driven by others, but you think you are heroes. You are being driven by a madman with crazy blood running through your veins, but you think you are noble and even think that your actions are just?" Zakan sneered sharply, mocking the elves' faith and determination.

"I am Eltharion of Yvresse! Heir of Aenarion! Son of Morarion!" Eltharion did not retreat. He held the fang sword high and walked slowly forward with steady steps. His eyes were as sharp as a blade, and his voice was full of determination and pride.

"Tell me, son of Morarion, do you know why you are here? Is it because your god has turned away and no longer favors you? Or... have you blasphemed the god?"

Zakan looked at Eltharion walking towards him, and his sneer became even more ferocious. The blazing flames in his pupils suddenly shrank slightly, turning into a trace of evil and malicious light, and his voice became low, and every word he uttered was filled with malicious curses.

Hearing the demon's sneer and questioning, Isharion paused slightly, his brows furrowed slightly, and a barely perceptible hesitation flashed in his eyes.

Zakan caught the hesitation at this moment and laughed triumphantly. Mortals are mortals after all. No matter how magnificent the power is, the vessel is still just a mortal, and mortals always have weaknesses!

"Let me tell you, those gods you think are noble are nothing but parasites covered with a veil of deception and trickery. I have witnessed with my own eyes how they sucked the strength of your people and made themselves fat like leeches sucking blood, and yet you placed your faith in these cowardly creatures. Haha! Where were they when you needed them the most? They are nothing but cowards hiding in the dark land!"

The words of Zakhan pierced into Eltharion's heart like a venomous snake, trying to tear apart the elves' beliefs and awaken all the elves' doubts and fears. However, when its eyes penetrated the depths of Eltharion's soul, it felt a burning power burning.

Although this light is weak, it is as pure as a star.

"Perhaps I will show mercy, if you wish, and allow you to return to your court, to seek safety behind your walls, with the help of your soldiers and your wizards. Flee, son of Morarion, and I will allow you to flee to your castle. After all, if you perish here, who will lead the people of Yvresse and save their land?"

"Shut up, demon! It won't be me who dies today!"

Tzarkhan's voice was full of temptation, but Eltharion's eyes gradually became firm. He felt the doubts and fears falling from his heart, like dust falling into the soil. His voice sounded like thunder, and his eyes were looking directly into Tzarkhan's six burning eyes. The burning flames could not shake his determination. He raised his fanged sword high, pointed the blade at Tzarkhan, and stepped closer to the demon step by step.

"Do you think you can kill the eternal? Do you know what you are standing in front of? I am Zakhan, the Tearer! Zakhan, the Scourge! Zakhan, the Witherer! Zakhan, the Thirst Drinker of the World!" The demon's voice was like thunder in a storm, shaking every inch of air on the battlefield. Its roar was full of the breath of chaos, and the sound pierced directly into the soul, making people tremble involuntarily.

Its body gradually expanded as it roared, and its six burning eyes stared at Eltharion angrily, wanting to devour the elves. It continued to roar, "I witnessed the fall of the stars, I watched the first apes crawl out of the mud and call themselves elves, I witnessed the rise of continents and the fall of empires!"

"I have existed since the beginning of time, before the false harmony of your order. I will see it all destroyed, ravaged until nothing remains. Mortal, do you think you can kill me?"

Its voice grew louder and louder, trying to crush the elf's will with its words.

"I am destiny! I am eternity! I am..."

"Shut up, demon! Prove it to me!" Isharion's roar was like a sharp sword, directly cutting off Zakan's long monologue.

His voice was cold and full of contempt, and the proud smile on his face carried the arrogance and disdain unique to elves, like an invisible sword, piercing Zhakan's arrogance. Although Zhakan might really be as ancient as he said, representing the evil and terror in countless nightmares, he was not afraid at all, and his eyes were as sharp as a blade, seeing through the essence of this Chaos Demon.

Zakan felt the contemptuous look, and the burning fire in its six eyes became more and more intense. Eltharion's words touched its inevitable weakness. The experience of coexisting with mortal hosts inevitably made it contaminated by mortal emotions, and now, this primitive rage and blind impulse to kill are boiling in its body, uncontrollable.

"I will tear you apart, mortal!"

Zakhan lowered his horned head and let out a deafening roar. His huge body rushed towards Eltharion like a moving mountain with endless murderous intent.

Its movements were rough and wild, without calm and precise control. It completely ignored the power wrapped around Eltharion, and replaced it with a desire to tear and kill. It even ignored the energy contained in the fang sword, and its only goal was to tear the elven prince into pieces.

But Eltharion was not distracted by the demon's mad attack. He jumped out nimbly and rolled to the side at the moment when Zakhan's huge claws were about to hit him. When he stood up again, the fang sword had pierced Zakhan's abdomen like lightning.

"Ah ah ah..."

Zakan let out a heart-wrenching howl, and hot black blood gushed out from the wound. When the blood touched the ground, it immediately turned into clouds of foul-smelling smoke that rose up.

Eltharion did not give the demon a chance to breathe. He clenched his teeth, gripped the hilt with both hands, and stretched his muscles to the extreme. He used all his strength to twist and rotate the fang sword in Zakhan's body, piercing deep into the twisted flesh. Every movement was accompanied by Zakhan's scream of pain. The energy attached to the fang sword directly tore the essence of the demon at this moment, separating the demon from reality.

A searing force erupted from the Fang Sword, sending shockwaves through Zakan's body, tearing the Chaos Demon's body apart.

The upper half of Zakan's body was turned into a rolling mass of decay by the impact, and the dark liquid scattered like burning filth. The lower half of his body was blown into pieces by the force of the explosion, and blood, flesh and broken bones splattered like rain, spreading the entire battlefield with a strong stench, and the collapse was everywhere.

The demonic destruction was extremely violent, but Eltharion, standing in the center of the battlefield, was unscathed. The protection hidden in his body was like a shield, protecting him from the outbreak of chaos. He slowly stood up, with the fang sword hanging at his side, and the filth on the blade was evaporated by the energy.

As Zakhan's body turned into a pool of stagnant rotten mud, the sky suddenly darkened. Thick and sticky black clouds rolled, and the entire sky was mourning the destruction of the demon prince again. A cold wind whistled, followed by a strange black rain. The rain was as sticky as blood, dripping on the street, making a heart-pounding sound.

Eltharion's eyes were cold and determined. He looked up at the sky and let the rain hit his dented visor.
-

After marching for a while, Dacus's team stopped. There were no large crowds of barbarians in front of them, only a lone figure standing in the street like a lone enemy.

On the other side, Kolan Blackhand pressed Isek (Chapter 581) to the ground fiercely. His strength was like a hammer, pressing Isek firmly against the hard stone slab. His eyes were burning with anger, his teeth were clenched, his expression was twisted into a hideous and terrifying expression by anger, his breathing was heavy and rapid, but his eyes were as cold as a knife, overflowing with disgust and hatred.

"When I first saw you, I wanted to kill you! You dirty monkey!"

Koulan growled, his voice filled with hatred. The corners of his mouth slightly lifted, revealing a strange smile that was both a vent of anger and a kind of morbid satisfaction. (End of this chapter)