Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

Vasis looked down at the ID card in her hand, her fingertips trembling slightly. The cold wind, with its sharp coldness, penetrated through the gaps in her clothes, cutting her skin, but it could not bring her back to her senses from her confused thoughts.

Her eyes were fixed on the ID card, but her focus was far away, as if through that thin black card, she could see every knife, every drop of blood, and every kill she made on the battlefield. She once held her spear and shield firmly, but now she stood in the wind, lost.

The battle flags fluttered in the cold wind, and the black flags seemed to be some kind of silent announcement, reminding her that she had returned to Naggarond. But now, this land was changing, and she didn't even know if she could keep up with the trend.

Not long ago, her unit returned to Nagarond. A few days later, she, like all the soldiers, received new identity documents, which were a symbol of their identity under the new order.

At that moment, she thought everything was going to be better and everything would fall into place.

Yesterday, a team of black guards and a group of officers in strange costumes showed up at her barracks, reading out orders, or more accurately, policies.

The official standing at the front had a scholarly temperament, which seemed out of place in the Duruchi society, but his voice was calm and clear. He muttered a lot, but Vashis only understood a few key points: assessment, promotion, the Sword of Edreze, the atrium, and the centurion.

Centurion!
The word vibrated in her heart like a clarion call. The officer class that was once out of reach was now within reach.

The merciful and generous Hand of the Witch King fulfilled his promise, giving civilian soldiers the opportunity to climb up, allowing those who shed blood and sweat on the battlefield to break through the barriers that stood above their heads.

The soldiers around her were all excited and celebrating the arrival of this opportunity. She was no exception. Her fists clenched unconsciously, as if she had seen herself wearing a helmet that symbolized authority and commanding the army on the battlefield.

After the black guards and officials left, she spent the day preparing. She thought, like other soldiers, that the core of the promotion assessment must be martial arts, and that she must compete with other soldiers on the training ground and fight with swords. This morning, she got up early and practiced again to ensure that her physical condition was at its best.

But the reality dealt her a heavy blow.

When she arrived at the assessment site, what she saw was not a training ground, but a tent.

There were no neatly arranged swords, no opponents waiting to be challenged, only a calm and low tent, a table, and several examiners sitting behind the table.

When she walked into the tent, although the room was bright and warm, the scrutinizing eyes made her feel an indescribable oppression, which made her unconsciously straighten her back. Then she was guided to sit on a chair without a backrest in the middle of the tent. When she sat down, she felt like she was standing on the critical point of a knife edge.

"The test is about to begin." The examiner sitting in the center spoke in a cold and emotionless voice, "Please answer the questions within the limited time."

"You command 100 soldiers to guard a wooden fortress. There is a weak point on each side of the north and south walls. If the enemy's main attack direction is unknown, you need to allocate troops: 1 people to guard the north wall, 40 people to guard the south wall, and the remaining 40 people as reserves."

“Q: Why must the reserve be retained?”

She was stunned, her thoughts froze for a moment, her mind went blank, the meaning of the question echoed in her ears, but her brain seemed to be rusty and was unable to react.

Until the hourglass on the table was turned over, and the fine sand began to slide down mercilessly. The passage of time was like a sharp blade, constantly pulling at her nerves, her heart beating violently, and sweat sliding down her neck.

She panicked and instinctively wanted to draw her weapon, but there were no weapons, no battlefield, no enemies, only the examiner in front of her and the time that kept passing.

But at this moment, her experience on the battlefield came to her mind, and her military career instincts grabbed her, reminding her that she had served in the army for nearly a hundred years, and she was not a new soldier! She didn't know how to deploy defenses, but she knew the role of the reserve! During her long service career, her squad had served as a reserve more than once.

She took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down.

"The reserve team..." She spoke slowly, recalling the battle scene, "will it play a role in curbing...sneak attacks from sudden breaches?"

"Are you sure?" The examiner looked at Vasis expressionlessly, his tone still cold.

Vasis's fists clenched unconsciously, and the ID card in her palm showed a tendency to deform. Her brain was working rapidly, and she tried to recall her past combat experiences and the situations she had faced in countless battles.

"I'm... sure!" She couldn't back down, couldn't hesitate, couldn't make herself appear unconfident. She gritted her teeth, raised her head, and answered firmly.

The examiner did not ask any more questions, but slowly reached out and moved the hourglass that was still flowing with sand to the side.

Vasis's shoulders relaxed slightly, and a hint of luck emerged in her heart. She knew that she had answered the question correctly.

However, before she could catch her breath, new problems arose.

"With only one hour left before the enemy's general attack, you find that the defenses are not complete, half of the soldiers are still eating, and the enemy's vanguard has come into view. Complete the preparations for battle in no more than three commands and explain the reasons."

The moment she heard this question, Vasis' pupils shrank slightly, her fingertips tightened subconsciously, and her nails dug into her palms fiercely. Her throat began to dry up, and her body instinctively tensed up, like a nervous reaction before a battle, but... she didn't know how to answer.

She was a soldier, not a centurion.

She just didn't know the word "beyond the scope". If she knew, she would really like to ask. She was just a soldier, an ordinary soldier. Her duty was to obey and execute orders, not to make tactical instructions. She knew how to hold the spear tightly, how to attack with the shield formation, and how to stand firm under the enemy's charge, but now, these battlefield experiences could not help her.

She wanted to ask, "Why?" Why did she ask these questions, but she finally swallowed her doubts. She had served in the army for too long. Questioning in the army was a sign of contempt for authority and a challenge to the superiors, which would result in severe punishment. Although the examiners in front of her looked very friendly, she could feel that they were not easy to deal with. Maybe when she came out, what would be waiting for her was not an answer, but the soldiers rushing into the tent.

She won't.

She looked at the examiner blankly, her eyes sliding uncontrollably towards the hourglass on the table. She watched the golden sand falling mercilessly. Time seemed to be counting down with some kind of cruelty, and every grain of sand that fell seemed to hit her heart.

Her mind went blank.

"I...I..." Her lips trembled slightly. She tried to concentrate and find the answer, but all her thoughts were mixed up. She could only swallow her saliva continuously. Her chest heaved violently and cold sweat slid down her forehead.

Her right hand was still tightly gripping the ID card, her knuckles turning white from the excessive force.

Finally, the last grain of sand in the hourglass fell quietly.

There was a suffocating silence in the air. The examiner raised his head calmly, his tone still calm and fair, without any emotional fluctuations.

"I'm sorry, you didn't pass. You can leave now."

"I……"

Vasis' throat tightened and he wanted to say something, but the words seemed to be bound by invisible shackles and he couldn't utter them.

She stood up slowly, her movements as stiff as a rusty puppet. Her mind was completely confused, and she even had a stupid thought for a moment: Did I hear it wrong? Do I still have a chance? But when she looked around and saw the calm expressions of the examiners and the soldiers standing at the door, she knew that all this was real.

She was eliminated.

Her heart felt like it was being gripped by an icy hand, and the intense pain made it almost impossible for her to stand.

How could she fail? She had been on the battlefield, had killed people, had charged into battle, had survived so many life-and-death battles, why... why was she eliminated by just one question?!
She could not accept this result, could not accept this failure, she would rather die under the swords of other soldiers in the martial arts assessment, but the reality was that there were no swords, only problems.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then slowly opened them. Her eyes were still full of unwillingness, but she had regained her composure.

She turned around, walked out of the tent, and walked towards the barracks where she was. She did not look back, nor did she look at the soldiers who were still standing in a long line.

She didn't want to see or hear it anymore.

She failed, that's the fact.

Halfway through the walk, she finally couldn't help but stop and look at the ID card in her hand. After a long time, she slowly raised her head and looked at the lead-gray sky that always covered Naggaroth.

"Mother of Dark Night! Damn it!"

She gritted her teeth and cursed in a low voice, with a strong sense of unwillingness and anger in her voice. At this moment, her emotions finally got out of control, she raised her hand suddenly and slapped herself hard, the crisp sound was particularly loud in the cold air, and her cheeks immediately turned red.

But this is not enough.

Her breathing was rapid, and her chest felt like it was burning. She slapped herself hard a second time, a third time, and a fourth time...

She knew how rare this opportunity was. How could she fail? How could she let herself fall to such a state? She couldn't even answer a single question?

Tears mixed with cold wind pierced her eyes, but she didn't care. Her face was already red from being slapped by herself, and her palms were numb, but it still couldn't calm the anger in her heart.

She lowered her head and her eyes fell on the ID card she was holding tightly. The black card carried her identity, her military career, her years of service, and everything she had been proud of.

Her breathing became heavier and heavier, her chest heaved violently, anger churned in her heart, her hands trembled, and suddenly, she raised her hand fiercely, wanting to throw the ID card to the ground.

But just as she was about to let go of it, she stopped. Her hand froze in mid-air, her fingertips tightly gripping the ID card, veins bulging.

No.

Her reason was like the last taut string, warning her frantically: This is a military camp, no one will tolerate your temper. This is Naggaroth, the cold and ruthless Naggaroth, she can't let herself lose her composure, can't let herself make a fatal mistake after failure.

She loosened her fingers slightly and slowly put the ID card back into the inner pocket of Kaitan. She stood there in silence for a long time, her fingertips tightly clasped the edge of Kaitan, and slowly took out the ID card from it and looked at it again.

Her identity is still a soldier, an ordinary soldier.

What else can she do? What is her future? Will she continue to fight?

She slowly lowered her hand, tightly grasped her ID card, and finally sighed deeply and walked away.

The dinner was tasteless, a group of frustrated people sat there stiffly, without any jokes or those tired but familiar boasts. They chewed the dry food in their mouths as if it was just a routine, not a meal to fill their stomachs.

Vasis stared at the bread in her hand but hesitated to take a bite. Her taste buds seemed numb, or rather, from the moment she walked out of the tent, her whole body and mind had been out of touch with reality.

She didn't even notice that there were two people missing from her team of 100.

As night fell, the military camp seemed to be shrouded in deathly silence. Occasionally, low conversations could be heard in the barracks, but they were no longer the familiar complaints and laughter. Instead, they were suppressed and heavy whispers, and every word seemed to be analyzing their failure.

Their failure means they are not smart enough, strong enough, or adapted enough to the new era.

Vasis did not participate in the discussion, but huddled in a corner, hugging her knees with her hands and burying her head in her arms. But her pointed ears trembled slightly, always erect, catching the sounds around her.

The examiners' questions are different, and the reasons for the soldiers' failure are also different. Some people's thinking is too rigid, some lack tactical intuition, and some cannot accurately analyze battlefield resources... These assessments are not just simple military tests, but are exploring their strategic thinking, psychological quality, resource management capabilities, and on-the-spot adaptability.

It was not until then that she discovered that one of her companions was missing from the barracks. If she was right, she would never see him again, and even if she did, everything would have changed.

Envy, jealousy, pain, her heart felt like it was hit hard by a heavy hammer, her eyes were hot, tears silently fell. She felt unprecedented confusion and pain, she didn't know what else she could do.

Centurion is not just a military rank, it means a lot. And she, Vasis, is just a Dread Spearman, good at killing, but other than that, she can do nothing.

Her fingertips trembled slightly and her fists slowly clenched. She finally realized that there was an insurmountable gap between her and the real commander.

She thought that she could rely on her century-long military career to rise to the top in the tide of the new era and become a commander, but reality slapped her hard in the face.

She didn't understand tactics, deployment, or how to command a hundred-man squad. She was only good at killing. Her hands had touched blood, but she had never experienced the full picture of war.

She never thought about "why", why attack? Why retreat?

She failed, failed completely.

What else could she do?
retired?
She had thought about it, but if she left the army, how would she survive? Her family was long gone, otherwise she wouldn't have joined the army. She didn't know how to run a business, she didn't know how to manage, and she didn't even have many sovereigns of her own. Farming? Her hands had never touched the soil, only the blood and iron of the battlefield.

Continue to stay in the army?

She could continue to fight, continue to learn knowledge, continue to climb the ladder of military merit, and maybe one day, be promoted to an officer based on her military achievements?
But she hesitated.

Does she really want to live a life of killing all her life?

She had never thought about this question. In the past, there was no choice in Drucci's world, only obedience and climbing. The strong devoured the weak and the losers were abandoned.

However, times have changed.

This terrible new era brought countless changes, gave her opportunities, and also ruthlessly threw her to the ground.

That night, she slept very restlessly, nightmares surging in her mind, blood and battlefields intertwined, fallen enemies, corpses she had pierced, cut flesh, past glory, past pain... everything entangled her. The sky in the early morning was still dull, and the heavy clouds were like a lead-gray curtain, oppressive and suffocating. The cold wind roamed through the camp, bringing a biting chill and rolling up the dust on the ground.

Like other soldiers, Vasis stood in the open space, looking up at the figures in the distance. The arrival of the black guards and officials rekindled a glimmer of hope in this long-silent camp.

They knew that they still had a chance. The vision of the future revealed by the Witch King's Hand in his speech and the guidance hanging above the sky reminded them that change was happening and the gears of fate were still turning.

When the official read out the new decree, the soldiers' heartbeats seemed to stop for a moment.

Recruit the Black Knights of the Edict!
After a brief silence, noise suddenly broke out.

black Knight?
Although they didn't know the specific functions of this unit, their intuition told them that this was definitely not a position that ordinary soldiers could achieve! They were knights!
Some people were whispering, some were cursing under their breath, but more people could not hide their excitement. They believed that they had finally waited for the opportunity to move to a higher class and escape from mediocrity!

But the ecstasy lasted less than half a minute.

When the qualification requirements were read out, everyone's expression froze. Excitement instantly turned into despair, and disappointment surged over them like a tide. Their service years were not enough.

Must serve for more than three hundred years.

Three hundred years? !

None of them were good enough. In the entire Naggaroth, it was rare to find a soldier who could serve for three hundred years.

Two hundred years? What does that mean?
In Naggaroth, there are very few soldiers who can survive in the army for three hundred years. Most of them either die in battle, retire due to disability, or become guards for noble families.

This means that this recruitment plan has nothing to do with them.

The sound of shattered hope is silent, but more brutal than the clash of swords on a battlefield.

The soldiers stood there, staring blankly at the officer who read out the order, as if waiting for the officer to smile and say "this is a joke" the next moment. But reality would not pity them, everything was real.

Anger, disappointment, and unwillingness surged among the soldiers like a tide, but even so, they still did not leave, they were still waiting. They were unwilling to give up, they were expecting even the slightest hope.

Soon, the soldiers' eyes widened in disbelief, because they heard the news that the Black Guards were expanding their recruitment. You know, in the past, the Black Guards only recruited civilian orphans and noble heirs, but now...

The Black Guard actually opened the gate to ordinary soldiers!
The soldiers' hearts began beating wildly again. They tried hard to calm themselves down, but the excitement in their eyes could not be concealed.

However, the official's next words once again shattered their newly rising hopes.

Service term limit.

To qualify as a Black Guard, one also needs to have served for a long enough time.

The glow on the faces of those soldiers who were eager to pass the assessment and become elite soldiers instantly disappeared, and was replaced by endless bitterness and powerlessness.

On this day, they had experienced two falls from heaven to hell.

However, Vasis was different, she stood in the crowd, listening to all this silently. Her eyes, which had originally drooped, slowly lifted up, and her gaze gradually changed from indifference at first to complexity, depth, and then ecstasy.

She qualified! One hundred years of service, she qualified! She was one of the very few in this barracks who qualified.

She could join the Black Guard, she could continue to fight, she could stand on a higher battlefield. She could even change her life. Her heartbeat quickened, blood surged in her veins, her fingers slowly tightened, her nails almost pinched into her palms, her breathing became heavy and rapid.

Maybe this is her chance, maybe this is fate's last favor.

She should have caught it.

She had to catch it.

But...does she really want this path?

She was silent, her eyes wandering, her heart full of struggle.

Becoming a Black Guard means higher honor, more elite training, stricter discipline, and more dangerous battlefields. The Black Guard's duty is not only to fight, they are the sword of the Witch King and the shadow that protects the kingship. Once they appear on the battlefield, they will face the most brutal enemy.

Her gaze slowly fell on the Black Guard, on his steady posture, on the halberd in his hand, and on the black cloak.

The black guards did not hesitate or get confused. Their eyes were as firm as steel and their faith was as unshakable as the black tower in the distance.

Her breathing gradually became steady, and the struggle in her eyes gradually faded. She didn't want to retreat, she didn't want to let herself sink, she didn't want to let herself die in confusion.

At this moment, Vasis finally made a decision.
-

Time is like a river, flowing forward continuously.

Vasis succeeded.

The assessment was not like the centurion selection that day, which tested her thinking with difficult and strategic questions. Instead, it returned to the most primitive way of measurement, a martial arts duel.

Thanks to her experience in the two battles of Gorond, she had the courage to face the captain of the Black Guard. Although she failed in the end, her will to fight was unshakable. Her courage and fighting spirit won the favor of Koran, and she became a Black Guard.

Her identity underwent a gorgeous transformation. She finally stood on the top of the wave of the new era and finally climbed to the peak of glory that belonged to Duruchi.

But soon, new recruitment began within the Black Guard, and she focused her attention on one of them: the medical system.

Doctor? More precisely, a military doctor. She had never thought that she would be associated with this profession.

When she told this idea to a friend she had just met, all she got in return was wild ridicule.

"Haha, you? A doctor? You want to use the dagger in your hand to sew up the wound? You must be kidding!"

Vasis did not refute. She knew why her companions laughed, and even she herself found it ridiculous at first.

But the more she thought about it, the more she felt... maybe this was her way out? Because she knew that she was not good at commanding, her martial arts skills were just so-so, and her strength was at the bottom among the Black Guards.

She was able to join the Black Guard because the Black Guard needed to be expanded, and her service years met the requirements, and she also showed courage to be recognized, but what about the future? With the expansion, there will be people joining the Black Guard who are stronger and braver than her, and it will be difficult for her to compete. Perhaps she will be a Black Guard soldier for a long time, and it will be difficult for her to take another step forward.

She wanted to find a place, a place that truly belonged to her.

Thanks to a century of service experience, she can perform dissections, find the location of organs accurately, and remove flesh and blood from the enemy while he screams, without hurting vital parts...

Before returning to Nagarond, her unit was responsible for the final work of Gorond and did not participate in the Battle of Har Gansi. During that time, her daily job was to clean up the prisoners and act as a butcher, shaving off the edible parts of the prisoners and corpses. This experience strengthened her skills and let her know how to cut the vital parts more accurately and how to cut bones with one knife.

If her hands were once tools for killing, why couldn't they become tools for saving people?

After making her decision, she submitted her application.

The next day, she was assigned to a special training camp. She stood in front of the table, looking at the corpse on the table, her eyes calm, without a single wave. The sharp blade cut through the skin, the flesh separated, and the internal organs were exposed. This scene was very familiar to her. The way her blade fell was still precise, but it was not for killing, but for stitching and reshaping.

Her hands were steadier than many people's, and there was not the slightest tremor in her needle and thread. She lowered her head, tightened the thread, tied a knot, and cut it.

The examiner observed from the side, without praising or blaming, but simply made a note on the recording board.

But she knew she had passed.

From that day on, Vasis was no longer just an ordinary Black Guard soldier, she became a field doctor walking among the Guards.

She still shuttles across the battlefield, but unlike before, her duty is no longer to kill, but to heal. She no longer peels off the enemy's flesh, but uses sutures to repair the soldiers' ruptured wounds. She still holds a knife in her hand, but it is no longer a blade to harvest lives, but a tool to save lives.

Her existence is no longer a symbol of fear, but a new hope. In this era full of changes, she is no longer a war machine, no longer an executioner.

She, Vasis, is a skilled field doctor, one of the sharpest scalpels in the Guards, and the last barrier between death and redemption.

She finally found her place.
-

A Druki stood there quietly, his clothes were neat and tidy, obviously well-groomed, his lips moved slightly, as if he was muttering to himself.

If someone came close and listened carefully, they would find that he was talking about nautical terms, tide calculations, wind direction judgment, sail adjustment, and even the key points of how to stabilize the boat in a storm. He just stood there, his eyes empty, immersed in his own world, like a forgotten statue.

The grand stage of Naggaroth is unfolding in full swing in Naggaroth. The army has been screened layer by layer and repeatedly, but the navy has been silent for a long time, as if it has been deliberately forgotten. However, this does not mean that the sailors who have heard all kinds of rumors are not making their own preparations.

He was so focused that he didn't notice Halina and Fergal slowly approaching.

Halina stopped and looked at the absent-minded man with complicated eyes. Her husband, a man who had disappeared from her life for fifteen years. She originally thought that she would have a lot to say when she saw her husband, either accusations, anger, or relief. But when she really stood here, looking at the man immersed in his soliloquy, her lips just trembled silently, and she couldn't say anything.

Fergal stood beside his mother, his eyes full of curiosity and unfamiliarity. He had no memory of this man, not even a fragment. He knew this was his father, but so what? To him, his father was just a name, a name that his mother occasionally mentioned with a little resentment and sigh.

Time passed slowly in silence. Finally, Halina took a deep breath and spoke to break the depressing atmosphere.

"Fegal!"

The man's mumbling stopped abruptly, and his body shuddered violently. He slowly turned around, as if awakened from a dream, with a bit of hesitation in his eyes, as if Halina standing not far away was a phantom that he dared not touch. His lips opened and closed several times, wanting to say something, but in the end it only turned into a low sigh.

"Halina."

There were no hugs, no joyful reunions, no tears flowing.

There was only a hoarse call, carrying the heaviness of years and indescribable emotions.

Halina smiled bitterly, she looked down at her hands and found that she was tightly clenching the corner of her clothes, her knuckles were white. She loosened her fingers and looked up at Big Fergal, her tone was calm, but with a hint of complex emotions that were difficult to conceal.

"you are still alive."

The corners of Big Fergal's mouth moved, as if he wanted to laugh, but couldn't. He stretched out his rough palm, which was covered with thick calluses, and his finger joints were stiff from years of operating the cables, but he finally retracted it, nodded, and his voice was as hoarse as a wooden stake eroded by the sea breeze.

"Yeah, I'm still alive."

Then silence fell upon them again.

Finally, it was the elder Fergal who shifted his gaze from Halina to the young man standing next to Halina. He narrowed his eyes and carefully examined Fergal's facial features, with some hesitation, some inquiry, and even some uncertainty in his eyes. What surprised him even more was the new military uniform worn by Fergal. He knew what it meant.

"He...is..." His lips opened and closed slightly, and he finally asked slowly.

Before he could finish, Halina's face darkened.

"He is your son!"

Her voice suddenly rose a little, like a muffled thunder exploding in the sea breeze.

Her eyes were filled with anger, grievance, and even some unspeakable pain. Her nails dug deep into her palms, as if forcing herself to calm down, but her tone was still uncontrollably sharp.

"How dare you ask this question? How dare you look at him like that?!"

Big Fergal shuddered slightly, as if he had been stabbed by this sentence. He pursed his lips tightly, wanting to refute, and in his eyes that had experienced countless storms, there emerged a trace of indescribable complex emotions, but in the end it turned into a sigh.

Fergal stood there in silence, his eyes moving between his parents. He didn't know what to say, nor how to face this man who had never appeared in his life. He could feel his mother's anger, but he could also feel that the man in front of him did not care about him.

It’s just that I don’t know how to face it? (End of this chapter)