Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

Clang clang clang.

"Enter!"

When the door was pushed open, Franais was buried in a pile of documents, and the pen in his hand slid quickly on the new white paper of Krakalond. Hearing the footsteps, he raised his head and glanced, and saw that it was his brother Ryan, so he lowered his head and continued to work on the documents. However, just as he was about to write the next word, the pen in his hand suddenly stopped, and he raised his head again, looking at Ryan sharply.

"what happened?"

He frowned, his tone was serious and uneasy. As Ryan's brother, he knew his brother too well. Ryan's expression and actions at this moment told him that something had happened, and it was definitely not a small matter!
Ryan did not answer immediately, but closed the door and sighed deeply. He walked to the table, sat down slowly, and crossed his hands on the table, as if considering how to start.

"Sir, how is he... feeling?" His voice was a little low and tentative.

“Just like that.” Franais’ brows furrowed even more tightly, and there was a hint of urging in his tone, “What happened?
"Elsin Alvin sent back information that William is dead."

"Cole Vanners, William III of Altdorf?"

Flanais hardly needed to think, because in the elf society, no one would be called "William". And the William related to Lord Dacus was only the Sigmar High Priest of Altdorf, William III. He still remembered that before leaving Altdorf, Dacus had a detailed discussion with William III, and he was guarding outside the door.

He put down the pen in his hand, leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes. He rubbed his nose with his fingers, as if trying to dispel some invisible fatigue.

"Humans..." He murmured in a low voice, with a hint of complex emotions in his voice, "tiny, short-lived creatures. Their lives are like the flowers outside, withering before we can even see them clearly." His tone contained both emotion and a kind of indifference unique to the immortal species.

After a moment, he opened his eyes, looked at Ryan and asked.

"How did he... die? Died of old age?"

"According to the news, he died in a duel. He killed Conrad von Carstein in the duel, but also died of his injuries." Ryan said as he gently placed a report on the table.

Franais's eyes fell on the report, he was silent for a moment, then nodded.

"Leave this to me."

After getting his brother's reply, Ryan didn't say anything more. He just nodded, stood up, turned around and left the office.

When the door closed again, Franais was still leaning back in his chair, rubbing his face with his hands. His breathing became heavy, and then he let out a long sigh. After a moment, he stood up, picked up the report on the table, and walked to Dacus' office.
-
"Alas, may Sigmar kiss your soul, my friend. I'm sorry I can't attend your funeral." Daxus sighed softly after reading the report.

His friend William III died after all.

But then again, who doesn't die?
Moreover, compared to the other timeline, the William III he knew died in a more valuable and meaningful way due to his intervention.

There is no doubt that in his timeline, William III's ending became more legendary and more praiseworthy.

(This section returns to the old world, and the protagonist and Finnubar stand in front of William's grave...)
He then sorted the reports into his personal files.

"Let's go."

Now, four years have passed since he last inspected the merchant ships. Nagarus has entered the second five-year plan, and everything is still stable and improving. All the money that should be paid has been paid, investment is also progressing steadily, and the social economy has begun to operate. Due to the normal operation of the cellars and factories, Nagarus has solved some of the material problems, the supply is more abundant, and there are more goods on the shelves.

The navy and the army are also continuing their training, and everything is proceeding in an orderly manner. The same is true on Asheril's side.

The only episode was a few fights between Duruchi and Asur on the coastline of the continent of Lustria.

However, in general, Duruchi suffered little loss as he was well prepared, and Asul did not gain much advantage. The two sides seemed to have reached a tacit understanding, fighting on a small scale, then breaking away and pretending nothing happened.

According to the intelligence feedback, the fleet commanded by Siglin never attacked at all. It seemed that Dacius's diplomacy and Matheran's faith had taken effect. It also seemed that protecting Twilight Fortress and maintaining the normal operation of the Ulthuan-Zhendan trade route were more important.

Asur dispatched only a small number of his native fleet and a group of noble sons who were eager to achieve success.

The current Asur Navy has a strong flavor of "existence navy".

This so-called "existent navy" does not refer to the "existent navy" mentioned by Mahan in "The Influence of Sea Power", that is, a naval force, although it has strong military strength, cannot play its full role when facing a stronger opponent, and can only retreat to the port and cannot participate in decisive sea battles.

But... to protect the ship?
Ulthuan's fleet is the most powerful in the known world, at least that's what Asur himself thinks. Of course, Druki scoffs at this, and Cathay also has some complaints about this statement. However, it is undeniable that Asur's navy is indeed impressive.

At any time, Asur could quickly dispatch a fleet of nimble and maneuverable ships to any port or coastal area and operate with deadly force.

The Asur are particularly adept at naval guerrilla tactics. These ships are like falcons of the sea, swift and deadly, using their superior speed and maneuverability to outwit their opponents.

Other fleets are scattered among colonies around the world, or patrol the waters of Ulthuan, searching for hostile shipping, especially the elusive Duruchi fleet.

In addition, Asur's navy is tasked with many other missions: transporting VIPs, escorting merchant ships, performing special missions such as assassinating potential enemies, recovering artifacts from distant lands, or supporting exploration missions.

On the surface, Asur's navy is glamorous and seemingly invulnerable, but in reality...

The shipwrights of Asur are truly capable of creating the swiftest, most graceful vessels in the world. These vessels are beautiful and sophisticated, with flowing lines, pristine paintwork, and sails of flowing silk, manned by unrivaled sailors. Each vessel is a work of art, a perfect marriage of the sea and magic.

The wood for the ship comes from the ancient forest at the foot of the crater, and is carefully cared for by foresters, artists, and shipwrights. After felling, the mages weave complex magic into the wood to keep it alive. Before the ship is launched, the priests of Aisha will decorate the hull with the "Eye of Aisha", which is a prayer to the Mother Goddess, asking Aisha to negotiate with the moody Maslan and protect the ship from Maslan's anger.

However, it is this meticulous craftsmanship and magical blessing that makes each Asur ship extremely valuable. Warships are becoming increasingly difficult to replace, and captains are becoming more cautious about engaging other ships for fear of losing a ship. And every loss of an Asur sailor further weakens the Asur. In addition, the effects of the Blood Day are still lingering, making Asur ships even more stretched.

In plain words: the Asur Navy cannot accept large-scale losses, which will make them even more exhausted. When carrying out offensive missions, captains will become extremely conservative, fearing that they will accidentally destroy precious ships and crews.

Of course, when on a defensive mission, it's a different story altogether. What's the saying? We have the holy city of Ulthuan behind us, and we have nowhere to turn! In such situations, the sailors of Asur will burst out with amazing courage and fighting ability.

In addition, Dacius's diplomatic strategy began to take effect. The naval faction occasionally interfered with the normal decision-making of Ulthuan, making Asur's naval operations more complicated and hesitant.

That time, after returning to the Black Tower, Daxus had a verbal battle with Bel-Ehor over the design of the ship.

"The design of this ship... completely subverts the Asur shipbuilding concept." Bel-Aihor's voice trembled a little, with disbelief in his eyes, "The combination of soft sails and hard sails, as well as the magic-enhanced structure... How did you do it?" "It's simple, because we don't need to be bound by tradition." Dacus shrugged, his tone as relaxed as if he was talking about the weather, "The Asur shipbuilding technology is superb, but you rely too much on past experience, and we..." He paused, a faint smile appeared on the corner of his mouth, "We are more willing to try new things."

"But this is not just a new problem!" Bel-Aihor's voice rose slightly, with a hint of reluctance and disbelief, "Your hull structure, sail design... these technologies, Asur never thought that they could be combined in this way."

"That's because you always talk about elegance and tradition." Dacus chuckled, with a hint of sarcasm in his tone, "But we only care about practicality. For us, as long as it can solve the problem, it's fine. Besides, this ship... looks beautiful, she is beautiful! Isn't she?"

Bel-Ahol first nodded, then shook his head, with a hint of helplessness in his expression.

"Don't worry, my adjutant. One day, Asur will also have this kind of ship." Dacus' voice was light, but with unquestionable confidence, "We will go further."

"What's the cost?" Bel-Ahol opened his mouth, but ultimately did not ask the question.

When Dacius arrived at the courtyard, Malekith was already waiting there.

The supreme ruler of Naggaroth did not ride a cold lizard, nor did he ride a red dragon. Instead, he rode... on a 28-inch bicycle, with his feet on the ground, his hands on the handlebars, and his eyes looking straight ahead with a serious face, as if silently protesting against this indecent means of transportation.

Dacus first showed an awkward expression, his mouth twitching slightly, and tried hard to control himself from laughing. After all, this scene was too weird. The Witch King, the existence that frightened the entire Naggaroth, was riding a bicycle at this moment, like a postman waiting to set off.

He took a deep breath, suppressed his smile, walked to the carport, rang the bell, and checked the seat. Then, as he had been told in the first part of the test, he walked around the car before getting in. He first squatted down to check the tires to make sure they were inflated, and then reached out to adjust the chain to make sure it was not loose.

Then he pushed out his Erba Kick and pushed it to Malekith's side.

"Do you understand this feeling?" Malekith muttered somewhat indignantly, with a hint of helplessness and dissatisfaction in his tone.

"I understand, but I don't understand!" Dacus shook his head and said as he slung his bicycle over his shoulder. His movements were skillful and smooth, as if this 28-inch bicycle was an old friend of his.

Seeing that Daxus did not respond directly, Malekith adjusted the position of the bicycle, pushed his feet, and started pedaling. The wheels made a slight clicking sound on the cobblestone road.

Darkus smiled silently as he watched this scene, his shoulders shaking slightly. After he finished laughing, he also pedaled his bicycle and began to chase Malekith.

However, perhaps Malekith was in a playful mood, or perhaps he was dissatisfied with Daxus's teasing. When he heard the voice approaching from behind, he pedaled faster.

Thus, the scene of the Witch King's Hand riding a bicycle to chase the Witch King was staged on the main road of Naggarond. The two sides used the main road as the arena and started a silent contest. The adjutants and followers were very sensible and just pedaled according to their own pace and status, hanging far behind, not daring to surpass or get too close.

"You should stand up and kick!" When Darkus stood up and kicked hard and approached Malekith, he taunted him. His voice drifted in the wind, with a hint of teasing.

But Malekith ignored Dacus and rode at his own pace. His back was still straight, as if he was not riding a bicycle, but a cold lizard. Dacus was also very tactful. He did not surpass him, nor did he ride side by side with him. Instead, he always hung behind him and maintained a subtle distance.

The bicycle was invented a year ago, and the style has not been updated. It is a 28 bicycle. There is no big or small wheel or anything else. After all, Daxus is here. In his opinion, the 28 bicycle is very suitable for elves, after all, the height and body shape of elves are there. In addition to elves, red dragons can also ride, of course, the premise is that they can learn to keep balance.

However, only a few people own bicycles at present. A large part of the reason is because of the environment. Most of the time, Nagarond is either covered with snow or the ground is frozen. It can only be ridden in certain places, such as inside factories or on main roads.

Of course, training wheels could be added, but Daxus never thought of that.

At present, bicycles have become a symbol of status, led by the Witch King and the Witch King's Hand, and only distributed to a small number of people. As for mass production? Dacus thinks there is no rush, after all, it is not at that stage yet.

Out of a joke and poor naming, Daxus named it "Phoenix Brand".

As for how everyone understands it, that is everyone's business, not his...

His relationship with his beloved Big Guy gradually faded, and the love disappeared. Now Big Guy was taken care of by Celile. There was no other way. He had little time to go out, and most of the time he stayed in the Black Tower, and Celile had to ride a cold lizard every day because of his work. So he simply entrusted Big Guy to Celile temporarily, although Big Guy protested against it.

The cyclists did not enter the factory, but rode along the main road outside the factory. Since it was daytime, everyone was still working and there were no pedestrians on the road. Only occasionally could we see people working in the glass greenhouse.

The flowers in the greenhouse were moved from the cellar to decorate the dark city of Nagarond. The greenhouse has insulation conditions, so citizens can take a look through the glass. Although these flowers are out of place against the gray background of Nagarond, they at least add a touch of vitality to this cold city.

"How ugly!" After arriving at the destination, Malekith looked at the building and made an impolite comment.

"You mean..." Before Daxus finished speaking, Malekith turned his head, and the flames on his visor became more vigorous, as if silently expressing his dissatisfaction with him. In response, he just smiled teasingly and shrugged, as if to say whatever you want.

"Are you planning to build all these buildings in Naggarond?" Malekith's tone was full of doubt and even a little disgust.

"What else?" Daxus asked back after putting his bicycle away, his tone as relaxed as if he was discussing today's weather.

"Don't you think it's ugly?" Malekith raised his voice a little, dissatisfied with Dacus's perfunctory attitude.

"We can also think from another perspective. This building carries hope. The walls of the building exude a rough industrial atmosphere, while the colors on the exterior are rich and colorful. This dialogue between roughness and delicacy, dullness and intensity, precision and chance, shapes the unique charm of this building..." Dacus talked incessantly, with an almost fanatical enthusiasm in his tone.

"stop!"

Seeing that the situation was not good, Malekith interrupted Dacreus's spell in time. His voice was cold and decisive, like a sharp blade, directly cutting off Dacreus's long speech.

Daxus spread his hands in protest, but with a sly smile on his face.

"I'm just stating the facts. Don't you think this building is very artistic?"

"Artistic?" Malekith sneered, the flames on his visor flickering slightly. "I just think it's so ugly that I can't look at it directly."

Today was the day Malekith and Darkius were hanging out together.

Dacus had invited him, saying that the building that carried Naggaroth's hopes had been completed, and there was a reason to come and see it. Malekith had not wanted to come, but since Dacus had said so, he could not refuse.

So, like a false monk, Malekith rode from north to south, and not only that, but from white to black. He wanted people to look at him, but not know who he was... (End of this chapter)