Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

"You really think about it?"

Outside the tent, Faithwell waited quietly. The afternoon sun shone through the sparse clouds, casting mottled light and shadows in the camp. He watched Gilead walk out of the tent quickly, decisively, without the slightest hesitation, and couldn't help but sigh.

"Think about it!"

Gilead's answer was clear and precise, exactly the same as his answer to Malekith in the tent. There was no hesitation, no delay, as if everything had already been decided.

"You know what this means, right?"

Faithwell looked at Gilead deeply, his eyes were steady, and there was a hint of imperceptible worry in his tone.

"know."

A short answer, without a trace of hesitation.

Fiswell frowned and wanted to say something, but in the end he just sighed and shook his head.

"I hope I'll see you again soon."

He spoke calmly, then turned and walked away, the afternoon breeze blowing his cloak and carrying away his sigh.

Soon after, Gilead was ready and on the deck of the raider, carrying with him valuable items from Elsin Arwen's tower of Tal Anlok, which Nayadalin Frostwood had helped him recover.

The term "recovered" is actually not accurate.

In fact, it was Gilead who provided the exact location of the Tower of Tal Anlok to Renn, who in turn relayed the information to Nayadalin, who was active in Elsin Alvin. Nayadalin agreed to this mission without hesitation, because this was her lifelong mission.

Who the hell is Nayadalin? (Chapter 317)
She is an Ainel who believes in Loik, a woman who was once imprisoned and deprived of everything, but still remains indomitable.

After being rescued, she had only one goal for the rest of her life - to retrieve the elven relics scattered in Elsing Arwen and restore the glory of her family. However, the elven ruins of Elsing Arwen were vast and it was not realistic to visit every corner in person, so she soon realized that it was inevitable to establish her own intelligence network and black market forces.

Thanks to Shadow Hunter's help, after she regained her freedom, she hit it off with Ryan and reached a series of agreements on intelligence sharing and manpower deployment.

In the end, the "lowly king" who once ruled the underground world of Middenheim, a sinister old human who believed in Radnor, the god of tricksters, was assassinated by Nayadalin herself in the chaos.

His throne was overthrown.

His followers were purged.

In her place was Nayadalin - an Ainir who had returned from the darkness, a woman whose wings had not been broken after endless suffering.

With her own means, with the help of Renn and the support of Shadowhunter, she established a huge black market empire. Starting from Middenheim, her influence spread outward, and she had strongholds and spies in important human cities such as Altdorf and Nuln. While searching for elven artifacts, she also provided intelligence to Renn, set up safe spots, and built a complex underground network.

Not only that, she also gave the wealth collected from the human world to Lindialock to finance the construction of Cole Imamor. After all, the Frost Forest family belonged to the original city-state relatives of Cole Imamor in Lauren Loren.

The operation at Tal Anlok was just another part of a long-term partnership, in which Gilead got what it needed, and Nayadalin got what she wanted.

After all, the foundation of the Losain-Marsanas family is there.

The assault ship slowly lifted off into the air, casting a huge shadow in the afternoon sun, reflecting the figures of the troops marching on the ground. With the Jusai Fortress as the core, the Duruchi military camp was already fully operational, like a precise and efficient war machine, with every gear turning in an orderly manner to adjust for the upcoming project.

The raider flew low over the sky, and below them was a scene of Huang Wei's troops marching forward...

This assault ship was like the helicopter responsible for aerial photography at the time, providing a clear view of the scene on the ground.

Gilead stood on the bridge, the breeze ruffling his cloak. He quietly overlooked everything, his eyes were deep and complex, his mood as turbulent as this tumbling scene.

It was not until he slowly raised the flag representing his family that all the past events came flooding back to his mind.

His relationship with Malekith has always been complicated and subtle. In terms of bloodline, he is a descendant of Bel Shana, the second Phoenix King. In terms of position, he should be Malekith's enemy, or even... the object of his revenge. After all, everyone knows the bloody dispute that happened back then.

But the reality is unexpected.

Their first meeting was filled with silence, as if two distant and parallel shadows met at this moment, but could not find the right words. There were no questions, no accusations, and even Malekith did not show any hostility. He just stared at Gilead for a long time without saying a word, and finally snorted softly and turned away.

Gilead once thought that Malekith would eventually fear his existence, and even treat him as an abandoned pawn, and quietly eliminate him at a suitable time. However, to his surprise, in the years that followed, the Witch King not only did not show any alienation towards him, but instead personally taught and trained him.

Those rigid and cold military courses, the tactical exercises at night, the reprimands as sharp as a knife... everything seemed to be training a true successor.

Malekith never treated him as a descendant of an enemy, but rather as a nephew. Whether it was strategies on the battlefield or the rules of survival in the palace, he taught him everything he knew, as if he was forging some possibility for the future.

But Gilead knew that their relationship was always on the edge of danger.

According to bloodline, he is indeed the nephew of Malekith, and they are from the same family of Malthanas. However, in order to avoid disputes, his ancestors abandoned the claim of Nagarythe and went south to establish the Kingdom of Terenloc. Because of this, Bel-Shanar was elected as the Phoenix King under a compromise situation and became the second ruler of Ulthuan.

Whether human or elf, they all like to compromise.

However, in the end…

Dynasties were overthrown, blood and fire were everywhere, and the soldiers of the Kingdom of Terenloc once fought under the banner of Aenarion, but were reduced to ridiculous vassal armies in the tide of the Great Sundering.

And now...

He was in charge of an army group. There were a total of 20 army groups in the Druch Army system. Although his army group was not fully staffed, he knew why.

But blood hatred will not disappear with the passage of time.

Gilead always remembered that he not only inherited the bloodline and glory of his ancestors, but also carried the destiny that had never been annihilated. He knew the cruelty of Malekith and witnessed how the witch king ruled Duruchi with iron and blood.

Their relationship is destined to be beyond simple definition.

Both a teacher and a controller.

They are both comrades-in-arms and chess players.

They are relatives in a sense, but also enemies whose destinies are intertwined.

Even now, as Gilead stood on the deck of the raider, holding the flag tightly in his hand and overlooking the endless array of troops below, he still could not answer the question that always lingered in his mind...

Did Malekith regard him as a relative, or just a chess piece that could be discarded at any time?

Perhaps, only time can give the answer.

The howling wind tore at his cloak and armor, and the raider trembled slightly in the air current. At this moment, he heard the warlock who was controlling the raider suddenly burst out a string of harsh curses.

He looked down and saw huge anti-aircraft balloons rising slowly, steel cables interlaced, heavy chains swaying in the air, weaving an airtight defense net. If the assault ship was not careful, it would be entangled by these floating obstacles, or even be torn out of the sky and crashed to the ground.

"Manipulate the sails! Start turning left!" The warlock gave a stern order, controlling the ship to slide sideways, trying to avoid the rising barrier.

The assault ship was violently bumping in the air current, and the hull made a dull sound of resistance from time to time. Gilead steadied himself, his expression stern, and he was not surprised at all. The tactical manual clearly stated that when the bridge was being built, it was a standard tactic to raise anti-aircraft balloons to block possible air threats.

If you insist on saying it was an accident, then it was...

He and this assault ship should not have been here.

He also knew that the risk of this operation was extremely high.

Failure is normal. After all, this is too inexplicable. A family that only exists in history has reappeared in the vision of the descendants of Terranlock and stood on the side of Duruchi.

But the real danger is not failure, but being detained or captured.

If he were captured alive, he would be the first senior commander of the Duruchi army to be captured.

This is not only about his life and death, but also about the morale and honor of Duruchi. The drums of war are beating, the swords are unsheathed, and the war between elves will never tolerate weakness.

If he falls into enemy hands, Malekith must give an explanation to the Druki.

If he fell into enemy hands, Drucci would have to launch a full-scale attack on Anaheim.

If he fell into the hands of the enemy, Anaheim would probably be doomed to a massacre of blood and fire.

Once a massacre takes place in the city, the cruelty of the war will be directly increased. Once the tone is set, the future situation will become uncontrollable.

"Have you thought it through?"

"Do you know what this means?"

That's why Malekith and Fitzwill asked him.

He kept thinking on the way here, and at this moment, he knew more than ever that there was no turning back.

Moreover, isn’t this the value and meaning of his existence?
Just like Eltharion began to prepare for war after returning to Ulthuan. Just like Bel-Ahor set foot on the land of Naggaroth again after returning to Ulthuan.

Everyone's existence has value.

And his value is not obtained by charity, but by active struggle. This is not only a military and diplomatic victory, but also concerns the future of the Kingdom of Terenlock.

Gilead closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and calmly welcomed his impending fate.

No matter what the result is, at this moment, he has risked everything.

The assault ship glided quietly in the air without dropping the anchor. The ship just lightly passed over the wall of Anaheim, and at the last moment it suddenly rose into the air and turned away.

Gilead's boots stepped on the ancient white city walls. The stone bricks were still smooth, and the carvings engraved with past glory gleamed in the sunlight.

The Asurs did not take any action, and the Eagle Claw crossbow used for interception was not activated.

They just stood there quietly, looking at him in silence, looking at the flag in his hand.

It was an ancient flag, carrying a kind of forgotten glory, a symbol that once belonged to the Kingdom of Terenlock. Now, it was held in his hand, standing on the wall of Anaheim, like an ancient omen, like a crack in time reopened, allowing the shadow of the past to overlap with the present. The descendants of Terenlock stood in front of him, their armor was still bright, their cloaks fluttered in the sea breeze, their swords were still sharp, and their eyes were still firm. However, their eyes revealed complex emotions, no anger, no contempt, only unspeakable contradictions and hesitations.

What are they thinking?
Gilead didn't need to ask, he already knew the answer.

They still have hope.

They had faith in the walls of Anaheim, in the bravery of Assur, in the city's protection, in the hope that reinforcements would soon arrive from Ulthuan.

But they were wrong, the truth was cruel.

Gilead's gaze slowly swept across the city wall, across the elves standing opposite him, across their longbows and swords, and across their eyes that still held faith.

"Do you really understand what you are about to face?"

He didn't say anything, but the words were almost engraved in the air.

He knew that these Asur had not yet seen the true siege capabilities of the Duruchi, and they did not even know that the city walls were meaningless in the face of this war.

Perhaps in the old days, city walls were the line of defense, the shield, and the last barrier in war.

But now, this is nothing but an illusion.

If the battle breaks out, the only thing they can do is face the wrath of Druch.

What can they use to fight back?

Using tactics that have not changed in thousands of years?
Holding an old longbow that is still in use?

With their glory and faith?
Gilead closed his eyes, and after a moment, he opened them again, with no trace of mercy in his eyes.

War shows no mercy to anyone, and history shows no mercy to the losers.

He could imagine what it would be like when the battle broke out...

Duruchi's siege regiments will spread out on the battlefield, with heavy cavalry, elite infantry, assault fleets, magical siege equipment, layer after layer of war torrents will sweep in and drown these Asur who are still living in the fantasy dreams of the old times.

The walls will be meaningless, and the descendants of Terenlock will have only one final fate: slaughtered, crushed, and forgotten.

It would be brutal.

This is also inevitable.

He could imagine the moment when the battle began, the arrows of the Asur would fly, but would be unable to penetrate the shields of the Duruchi, their chariots would charge, but would be trampled by the heavier Cold Lizard cavalry, and their walls would burn, reduced to scorched earth by the bombardment of magic and siege weapons.

They won't even understand how they lost.

In the words of Daxus, although we are still fighting with cold weapons, the generation gap is not a small one. This will be cruel. This gives the Asurs hope, but in the end... all the Asurs get is despair!

Gilead stood there, looking at them coldly, as if he had seen an Anaheim soaked in blood, the collapse of the city walls, the flames of war engulfing the towers, the descendants of Terenlock falling at the city gate, all glory being stripped away, and all memories being erased.

He slowly withdrew his gaze. This war would not stop because of hope. It would only end everything with cruel reality.

But at this moment, he knew he had come to the right place.

Elion's footsteps echoed on the stone bricks, and he almost rushed up the wall. He was breathing heavily, and his chest, which had not yet calmed down, rose and fell violently, but he didn't care about that, his eyes were fixed on the flag.

That familiar coat of arms, that golden emblem that symbolizes the glory of Terenlock, that family crest that once belonged to the most prominent family in the kingdom...

How can this be? !
This flag shouldn't be here!
His mind was in a mess and his heart seemed to be gripped by an invisible hand, making it difficult for him to breathe.

"Why do you have this flag?!"

Elion's voice was hurried, full of disbelief, and even a bit of uneasiness and anger.

Losain-Marsanus Family, how is this possible? !
This family died out during the Great Schism!

Their bloodlines have been cut off, their names have been buried in the dust of history, and have become part of ancient legends.

But now, it has reappeared.

In the most incredible way possible – in the hands of a Druki!

Elion clenched his hands into fists, his eyes fixed on Gilead, trying to find a flaw in the other party, find traces of deception, and find a reason to make himself believe that this was just some kind of conspiracy of Druch.

Unfortunately, he didn't.

"Because I am Gilead Lothain-Marthanus! A descendant of Bel-Shana!"

Gilead's voice was steady and firm. He did not back down, but slowly raised the magic ornament in his hand - that was the symbol of the oldest family in the Kingdom of Terenlock!

The soldiers around burst into a commotion, and the officers did not try to suppress the order, but joined the commotion. This was equally incredible to them. They were even more shocked than the soldiers. After all, they were aristocrats and had received education since childhood.

impossible!
This is impossible!

Elion's pupils contracted violently, his fingertips trembled slightly, and his throat was so dry that he could hardly speak.

"This is impossible... How is this possible?"

After the brutal Great Schism, the nobles of Terenlock mourned for them. They drank deeply in the long night, sighed for the lost glory in the morning light, and cried secretly when they woke up from their dreams. They mourned the disappearance of the Loseen-Marsanas family and the decline of the Kingdom of Terenlock.

How glorious, how brilliant, how rich the former Terrenlock Kingdom was. However, after the Great Split...

Now, who is this Gilead?
Where does his bloodline come from?

Why is he standing here?

Elion's fingers trembled slightly as he stared into Gilead's eyes, trying to find any hint of a lie.

But he didn't.

Gilead's eyes were calm and steady, without a trace of hesitation or deception. He held the flag and the emblem that symbolized his family, standing on the wall of Anaheim, as if history was reappearing at this moment.

That is the noblest bloodline of the Kingdom of Terenlock. That is the glory that the Kingdom of Terenlock had lost for a long time but has incredibly returned today!

But he is Drucci!

Elion's heart was pounding, unable to accept or deny it.

At this moment, his mind was running wildly.

If what Gilead said is true...then how should the people of Anaheim face it?

If what he said was true...then how would the descendants of Terenlock view him?
If what he said was true... then was he an enemy, or the heir to a lost family?
Complex emotions surged in his chest: contradiction, uneasiness, anger, doubt, all intertwined into a weight that he could hardly bear. For a moment, he even wanted to draw his sword and kill the being in front of him, and declare to the soldiers around him that this was an impostor, a ridiculous trick of Duruchi, but he did not do so in the end.

He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down, but found that this was no longer a problem that could be solved by staying calm.

Who is Gilead Lotharn-Marsanus? Where did he come from?

Are they friends or foes?

Should I stand on Asur's side or Drucci's side?
or……

He doesn't belong to any party at all?
Elion's thoughts were churning, but Gilead just stood there, looking at him quietly, waiting for his answer.

But this time, he found that he could no longer answer easily.

Gilead's fingertips gently stroked the family emblem in his hand, and his eyes fell on Elion. The other party's expression was still stiff, still unable to accept the facts, and the doubts and confusion in his eyes had not dissipated.

"Let's talk, go somewhere quiet." He sighed, his tone calm but firm.

Elion's breathing stagnated, and he almost instinctively wanted to refuse, but he knew that he couldn't refuse.

Gilead did not forcefully declare his identity, nor did he try to shake Ashur's beliefs. He simply made a request, a request for a calm conversation.

Elion's eyes swept over the warriors on the wall. Many of them were still watching them, talking in low voices, waiting for the next development. If he refused, the Asur present would definitely question his decision, and if he accepted...how would he face the unknown brought by Gilead?
But he had to find out.

"...Follow me." Elion took a deep breath and tried to keep his voice calm.

He turned around and walked towards a side door on the city wall with slightly heavy steps, and Gilead followed closely behind him.

The two walked through the narrow stairs inside the city wall and stepped into a hidden small hall. There were no guards there, only an old wooden table and a few chairs. The magic lamps embedded in the wall emitted a soft glow.

"Can I trust you?" Gilead stood at the door, slightly tilted his head and looked at Elion.

"That should be the question I ask you." Elion frowned.

"Then let us try to trust each other, just like when I first met Darkus." Gilead smiled faintly, walked to the table and sat down, gently placing the emblem in his hand on the table.

Elion looked at the emblem with mixed feelings in his heart. He didn't know who Dacus was, but he knew that this conversation might not make everything clear, but it would be a turning point.

A turning point from which there is no turning back.

A crucial turning point for Anaheim.

A crucial turning point for the Kingdom of Terenlock. (End of this chapter)