Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

Rashil Morwen's eyes fell quietly on Kalis Flameheart. His eyes contained too many emotions, including expectation, temptation, a hint of unspoken intention, and a desire that was difficult to conceal. His eyes were like a hand quietly reaching out, trying to touch a ray of hope. Kalis, who sensed that gaze, turned around and looked at him.

Then, Kellys shook his head gently.

It was a shake of the head with apology, even a bit of helplessness and heaviness, just like a friend who rejected the request of another friend just because he knew that the road was impassable.

In an instant, bitter emotions surged in Rachel Morwen's heart.

Resentment, melancholy, and deep loss surged like a tide, drowning the little flame in his heart that had not yet been extinguished.

This feeling is too bad, too biting, and too unforgettable.

He felt like he was standing in front of a tightly closed door. When he thought the door was sealed and he had given up hope, the door actually opened slightly, revealing a gap.

However, it was just a gap.

He couldn't push it open with his strength. He saw the light behind the door, but couldn't step in. He was shut out, as if there was only a gap between heaven and earth, and his insurmountable desire.

Perhaps the name of that door is "Opportunity"?
When he was young, Kaelis Flameheart entered the legendary "Dream Cave" on his own, where he obtained the Solar Staff that inherited ancient power. Then, he awakened the dragon, Rilgol, who had been sleeping for many years. The man and the dragon joined forces in the "Battle of Griffin Gate", like a divine army sent from heaven, and launched a crucial attack together with Mentheus' army, completely reversing the situation and winning a victory for Asur that is destined to go down in history.

After that battle, not only was Kelis named the Dragon Mage, he also became the brightest rising star in Asur. The person who gave him this honorific title was none other than Rachel's father, Mencius.

At that time, Menthius, as the war lord and commander-in-chief of the Asur coalition, had an almost unshakable position. He established a deep friendship with Kaelis, and although he eventually died in Tal Anlek, this friendship was like the inscription on the sword, which would never fade.

Rachel Merwin is the only son of Mencius.

in case……

If fate had been slightly different, if Menthus had not died in Tal Anlek, if he had returned with glory, then it would have been him, not Bel-Hathor, who would be sitting on the throne of the Phoenix King today, just like Caradrell the Peacemaker and Tesiris the Slayer.

in case……

This is undoubtedly a miracle. Caradrell and Moville are from the Kingdom of Iris, while Tesiris and Mentheus are from the Kingdom of Caledor. It is like an echo a thousand years later, a perfect correspondence.

Unfortunately, the world never favors "ifs".

Mencius died at the last moment of the war, in the territory he had fought so hard to protect. His death not only took away the life of a general, but also changed the fate of the entire family. With his death, his widow, Rachel's mother, never got out of the abyss of grief.

She lived in seclusion in the tower, no longer participating in family affairs, and no longer interacting with the outside world. She either immersed herself in the glorious memories of her husband's past; or cried alone, making every night extremely long; or, she transferred the unresolved pain in her heart to Rashir, using invisible pressure and expectations to nail him firmly in the shadow of his father.

That kind of depression and heaviness, like a dark cloud that never dissipates, hangs over every day and night of his growth.

Now, those emotions buried deep in his heart, anger, sadness, unwillingness, desire, jealousy emerged one after another, like small but surging waves, swallowing up Rahil's soul inch by inch.

He seemed to hear a long sigh coming from his heart. It was not a sound, but a cry from the depths of his soul.

Then, he gently shook his head, trying to drive away those mixed emotions from his mind. He took a deep breath, trying to block the unspeakable bitterness in his heart. He knew that now was not the time to indulge in emotions.

He raised his head and slowly swept his eyes across the solemn and dignified meeting hall. The golden sunlight shone through the stained glass onto the marble floor, but it could not warm the confusion and heaviness in his heart. His gaze finally fixed on the center of all this storm - Finnubar.

Finnubar in his eyes seemed like a different person.

Finnubar was no longer the elegant and calm nobleman, nor the politician who was always polite and well-behaved. His gentleness was gone, replaced by a frightening vulgarity and arrogance, a sense of oppression that was no longer concealed.

Rahil saw him slowly take out a carved silver box from his sleeve, skillfully light a cigarette, take a deep breath, and exhale a circle of light smoke. The smoke ring slowly rose in the sunlight. At this moment, he seemed to sense Rahil's gaze and raised his head to meet Rahil's eyes.

That look, that expression, made Lasir feel extremely strange and uneasy. It was an indescribable gesture, as if they were not in a grand meeting hall, but on a ship sailing through the waves. And Finnubar, the captain standing by the helm, looked down at the busy but directionless crew on the deck in a leisurely and slightly ironic manner.

Rahil shook his head again. He couldn't explain what that feeling was. He couldn't figure out Finnubar's intentions, and didn't understand why he would raise such a question at this critical moment - "Who should be the regent?" Isn't this a voluntary relinquishment of power? Or is this actually a form of extreme control?

More questions came to his mind. Did Finnubar think he was not fit to be the Phoenix King? But if that was the case, why did Belannar stand firmly behind Finnubar? His calm attitude clearly showed that he knew about it in advance.

He doesn't know, he really doesn't know.

Perhaps, compared to the complicated and scheming political game, he is better at confronting the enemy head-on on the battlefield. On the battlefield, the truth is revealed with a sword and a shield, without the need to figure out people's hearts, disguise or calculate.

He turned his head and looked at the elves around him. These nobles and politicians who claimed to be the pillars of their country, each of them had a different story and ambition. Some of them were as calm as water, some could not hide their excitement, and some had eyes flashing, full of vigilance and suspicion. At this moment, Laciel felt that he was in a foreign land, with an invisible curtain between him and these people, and the sense of strangeness became stronger.

His gaze continued to wander among the crowd, and finally landed on the blond young man not far away - Taynton.

Like him, Taynton also has a dragon companion named "Kagos". But unlike him, Taynton is not a dragon prince, but one of the most dazzling dragon wizards of the new generation after Kaelis Flameheart.

Ever since the legend of Kaelith Flameheart shook Ulthuan, it has seemed as if the blessing of Caledor the Dragon Tamer has come to the world. In every generation of apprentices who study the winds of magic in the White Tower of Hoth, a few dragon wizards are born. They are born with a natural resonance with the dormant dragon consciousness, and almost without exception, they have the pure blood of Caledor the nobles.

These people are often the most unruly apprentices in the White Tower. They have an extremely high thirst for knowledge, but are unwilling to obey conventions. When they study the first required course in the White Tower - "The Way of Fire", their warlike nature gradually reveals itself.

They experienced the baptism of blood and fire in their dreams, and dreamed of themselves riding on a giant dragon with sunset-colored scales and soaring in the sky. That was the call of fate and a symbol of the end of their apprenticeship.

When the mentors confirm that they have mastered the essence of the Wind of Akshay, they will leave the White Tower and embark on the journey home, heading to the dragon's lair in the Dragon's Back Mountains to meet their destiny.

At this moment, Taynton, with his arms folded, lowered his head and looked at his shiny leather boots, did not participate in any discussion, nor did he say a word. Was he in deep thought? Or was he just silent?
In Lasir's impression, Taynton is a very complex being. He has a strong fighting instinct and is not afraid of any battle, but at the same time, he is not as cold, conceited and arrogant as other Caledor nobles. On the contrary, he has a touch of gentleness and love. He has a good impression of his cousin Elsing Alvin whom he has never met, and has publicly stated more than once that he wants to visit Elsing Alvin if he has the chance.

Then, Lahil's gaze slowly shifted to another person who impressed him, the handsome warrior with golden hair flying like the scorching sun and a temperament as sharp as the edge of a sword - Harald.

Harald Sun-Crown, born into the most influential Dragon Prince family in Caledor, is a natural candidate for the power network of the Asur court. He is known as the "Prince on the Blade", not only because of his noble bloodline, but also because of his horrifying record.

He is widely acknowledged throughout Ulthuan as one of the greatest swordsmen of our time.

He can easily kill the Kane assassins lurking in the shadows, and even dares to challenge those experienced and respected senior dragon princes, and he wins every time. For the enemy, his swordsmanship is like a nightmare - the experience of death that blood splatters five steps before the sword is drawn is terrifying.

In addition to his powerful martial arts, he is also well-known among the powerful for his sharp sarcasm and black humor. Every sentence that seems like a joke often contains hidden sarcasm and temptation. He is the kind of person whose thoughts you can never figure out - with deadly charm and a dangerous soul.

But he has no dragon companion...

In the future, he chose another path - a path of cultivation that was completely different from the traditional dragon prince. He eventually became a Hothian swordsman and devoted himself to the swordsmanship and will of the White Tower. Finnubar, Tyrion, and Eltharion all received his guidance and were baptized by his swordsmanship.

At that time, Harald firmly believed that he was invincible. He called himself the greatest of the elves, and he was above all other races. He never concealed his pride, and it was this arrogance that made Teclis feel deeply uneasy. However, considering his distinguished family background and influence, Teclis could only accept it helplessly, and secretly hoped that time would eventually wear away his edge, making him more rounded and rational.

At this moment, Harald was standing in front of Imrik, speaking in an intense tone and with an exaggerated expression. He was pointing his finger at Imrik and opening his mouth to angrily scold something. His speech was extremely fast, and although his voice was unclear, Rahil could feel the boiling emotions from his exaggerated lip shape and the spit. Even though he was standing far away, Rahil could still see the saliva on Imrik's face, shining brightly under the light.

In addition to Harald, Imrik's relatives, Quirelion, Marendri, and Elisander also gathered around Imrik, some of them listened attentively, some frowned in thought, and some whispered in discussion.

Later, Quirelion went to the distant colony, the Sunspire, and took on the responsibility of maintaining the empire's frontier;

Marendri had a tragic fate, and at the end of his life he went completely insane, and it was Imrik himself who ended his life.

Elisander was an administrator with a strong sense of responsibility. He had managed the affairs of Caledor on behalf of Imrik more than once when he was away from the Kingdom of Caledor. Unfortunately, at the end of his life, he was killed by the mad Marendri.

Just as Rahil was about to take a closer look at Imrik's expression, his sight was blocked by two solid figures.

Athelion and his son, Atharniel.

Athelion is a famous dragon prince who fought alongside Mentheus and resolved crises many times. His son, Asarniel, is the best among dragon princes, with both talent and glory. If there is still hope for Asur's future, Asarniel is one of the lights, at least that's what Rahil thinks.

However, before Rahil's vision could calm down, another figure stood between him and Imrik.

He was a being wearing a fiery red robe and with eyes like shining stars in the moonlight - Lamelaan, Imrik's good friend and a rare dragon mage. His eyes were hazel brown and his expression was serene, as if he was listening attentively to all the sounds and whispers of the wind of magic around him. As a dragon mage, he had a strong ability to communicate with the sleeping dragons, and was a rare companion that Imrik could trust at the soul level.

Immediately following and appearing in Lahil's vision were two other dragon princes with unique styles - Eldarion Firewing and Isis Firebearer.

Eldarion eventually took over the land that once belonged to Asarnir, and Isis is one of the most legendary beings in the Kingdom of Caledor. He comes from an ancient branch in the southwest of Caledor, and his family bloodline can be traced back to the beginning. Unlike most dragon princes, he has a powerful dragon companion, Canasilai.

He is not only a brave and skilled general, but also a commander who has a good understanding of the overall situation. The "Fang of Glory" dragon prince cavalry he leads is a torrent of steel on the battlefield of Caledor. Wherever they go, the enemies are terrified. His brothers and cousins ​​swear to follow him to the death, fighting until the last man, and no one has ever betrayed him. The feelings between them are as hot as fire.

In addition, Isis also has a wise younger brother, Dalarmas, but Dalarmas is not here now. He has more important things to do than attending the meeting. He has just returned from studying at the White Tower of Hoeth and is now active in the Dragon Ridge Mountains.

Then, a not-so-pleasant figure entered Rahil's sight—Calidor Flamescale.

Rahil had never liked this man.

In Caledor, a country where arrogance is almost as pervasive as the air, Calidor's arrogance and conceit still stand out, making him the most arrogant among all dragon princes. His sharp eyes are almost full of contempt for all living beings. In his eyes, even the noble Asur are still inferior to him; and humans are just a group of barbarians wearing animal skins, no different from the barbarians in the north.

He always maintained an elegant demeanor and behaved gracefully and seemed impeccable, but his words always contained a chilling coldness and disdain, as if he sneered at any doubts. He regarded his own will as law, and once he gave an order, he would not tolerate any objection.

However, even those who hated him the most had to admit that he was qualified.

His dragon companion, Drogenular, is a shining star dragon. When Calidor and Drogenular soared over the battlefield together, they were like two stars burning the night sky. Every dive they made was enough to disintegrate the entire enemy army. Not to mention the legions under his command, which were elite, loyal, and ruthless, and were the sharpest fangs on the battlefield.

Gradually, more and more dragon princes gathered around Imrik.

Ithrian, Tyrandir, Dramis... These names are famous both inside and outside the Kingdom of Caledor. Their coming together was like a torrent of flames, making the atmosphere in the entire hall even more heated. Not only that, as if being pulled by an invisible gravitational force, representatives from other kingdoms also came over one after another.

Princess Shakara of the Terenlock Kingdom was elegant and noble, with sharp insight in her eyes; Prince Silarion was graceful and had a kind smile on his face; Prince Tyrandis was taciturn, with deep thoughts between his brows; Princess Silvia was like the moonlight in the morning, indifferent but not to be ignored. And Prince Eldil, also stood behind the crowd, quietly watching the scene, like a statue, keenly capturing every word and every change in eyes.

Rahil just stood there, watching quietly and listening attentively. "We support you!"

“You should stand up!”

"You are the pride of the Kingdom of Caledor."

Such words came one after another, pouring into Rahil's ears like a tide. At this moment, Imrik seemed to be the center of attention. Indeed, he was the pride of Caledor, with the direct bloodline of the legendary dragon tamer Caledor, and was the kind of person who was born to be chosen by fate.

And he? Just the son of Mencius.

For some reason, he subconsciously turned his head and looked at Finnubar who was standing quietly in the distance with a calm look.

At this moment, Finnubar still looked indifferent as before, seemingly indifferent to everything in front of him. The nobles flocked to Imrik like a tide, and the princes expressed their support, but Finnubar did not move, did not intervene, did not say a word, he did not even frown, but just puffed out cigarettes in an orderly manner.

At that moment, a strange feeling suddenly arose in Rahil's heart - a sense of uneasiness.

Is all this... a coincidence? Or... is this a situation deliberately created by Finnubar?
He once again looked at Finnubar, who was exhaling a wisp of smoke. The smoke slowly rose in the air. Finnubar shrugged slightly, as if silently responding to the confused confidants and supporters. That indifferent attitude almost seemed to say: "Let them make a fuss, everything is under control."

Rachel's heart tightened.

He never understood why Finnubar did this. Was it out of guilt for the destruction of the fleet? It didn't seem like that. He didn't know Finnubar's true motive, but he could feel that Finnubar had already seen through the situation, and even...

Yes, Rahil's instinct was right.

This situation was exactly what Finnubar had foreseen and even planned. Standing at the center of this turbulent political situation, he appeared calm on the surface, but his heart was already surging with turmoil, and everything was under control.

In Naggarond, he and Darkeus spent long nights in the warm waters of the pool, delving into the nature of war, the guidance of fate, the inescapable destiny of history, and the expectations of the future.

In the city that was once shrouded in endless darkness, Dakwus told him in detail about the changes in Naggaroth. Together they analyzed the political structure within the Duruchi, the far-reaching impact of the reign of Morathi and Hellebron, and those small but decisive changes.

Finnubar understood that the situation in the world was quietly changing, and those kingdoms that once relied on tradition, religion and bloodline to maintain their existence were gradually showing cracks.

He agreed with Dacus's judgment from the bottom of his heart - war was inevitable.

The thousand-year-old grudge between the Asur and the Duruch, and the deep hatred of blood and fire between the ethnic groups, have never been truly resolved.

Peace?

It is just a fig leaf with a shiny surface, which may be torn at any time. Once torn, the hatred hidden deep in history will pour out like a flood, swallowing up everything.

At some point, old scores must be settled and grudges must be resolved.

Otherwise, those hatreds will continue to lurk and ferment, and eventually turn into poisonous vines that corrode the entire foundation of the elves.

If it is not cut off in time, it will cause endless harm and may even destroy the entire elven civilization.

It's not that Finnubar hadn't tried. He had fought hard, tried to avoid conflict with wisdom and diplomacy. But in the end - what could he do? All he could do was to retain some of his power, a power that might still play a key role in the future.

And now, the current situation is the flint that ignites the flames of war.

Finnubar had arranged everything, and all he was waiting for was that falling spark - the rise of a regent, the outbreak of a war, or a political betrayal.

Another circle of smoke gently exhaled from his lips. He tilted his head to look at Belanna with a meaningful bitter smile on his face.

The few truly wise men in Ulthuan have realized that the world is no longer the self-enclosed, self-glorifying world it once was. The Asur need a new style of leadership, one that can not only lead Ulthuan, but also establish connections with the younger races of the outside world. Yes, the Asur need allies, and the bridge of diplomacy must be built by a Phoenix King who is well versed in the outside world and can move freely between the races.

This is the biggest bargaining chip in Finnubar's hand.

He has the experience, the vision, and the calmness of power.

After the two sides integrated their forces and converged their interests, a loose but tenacious alliance was formed, and a leader was elected who could keep the ship steady in future storms.

The other side of the "two sides" was Safri, the group of great wizards who had always remained neutral and waited and watched the world. Now, some of them chose to stand on his side, and combined with the previous ones, these became the last trump card in his hand.

This is why, when Bel-Hathor briefly woke up from a deep coma, he appointed him as his successor without hesitation.

However, fate is cruel.

Finnubar once walked to the door and stepped one foot in, but in the end, he took it back. He didn't want to go, and he didn't dare to go. But then, he was pushed in mercilessly and became the helmsman of the times.

Now, if he wanted, as long as he nodded, with Belanna's full support, he could rise to the pinnacle of power, become regent, and control all of Ulthuan.

What is the significance of doing this?

In the end, he chose to withdraw, and reason overcame impulse.

The fleet has set off and the war is approaching.

Let him take the helm at this critical juncture and engage in a head-on battle with Drucci?
The gods stood behind Dakwus, and Bel-Hathor fell into a coma for blaspheming Asuryan. He didn't think he could walk out of the Holy Fire of Asuryan without using the Fire Avoidance Charm, but once the Fire Avoidance Charm was used, what was the point?
Against Druch? Against...

perhaps……

The moment he stepped out of the sacred fire, he might follow Bel-Hathor's footsteps and fall to the ground, becoming a sleeper from whom he could not wake up.

perhaps……

He knew very well that doing so would arouse Asuryan's wrath, the fire avoidance spell would be meaningless, and he would die in the holy fire and become a laughing stock.

Moreover, he understood that Daxus had a bigger blueprint in his mind, which far exceeded the pattern and plan of Ulthuan, and the entire Ulthuan was just a key gear in this grand plan. This was why he sent out the fleet, and why he chose this time to send out the fleet.

But then again, if he hadn't said that just now, it would have been impossible for Imrik to become the regent.

This is something that everyone knows.

This is also the reason why the traditionalists are now surrounding Imrik. This is something the traditionalists had not expected before, because the traditionalists also know that there is no hope and Belannaar will not support Imrik.

Therefore, they simply changed direction and tried to push Belannaar to the position of regent, letting him replace Finnubar and become the next Phoenix King, the eleventh. After that, they made Imrik the war lord, just like Mensius, paving the way for him to become the twelfth Phoenix King.

The result was beyond many people's expectations. Belannaer finally chose to stand behind Finnubar. Almost at the same time, Finnubar suddenly gave up the right to speak, as if it was premeditated, or as if it was a sudden decision, which suddenly changed the whole situation.

It can be said to be full of twists and turns and unpredictable.

The moment Belanna revealed his cards, Finubar had already seen through everything. Just as he had judged earlier, Dacus was connected to Hoeth, and Hoeth had been secretly exerting force to influence Belanna's decision.

At that moment, a sentence that Dacus said to him when he left Naggaroth emerged in his mind:

"If you want to play cards at the table, you must have enough cards in your hand, otherwise you will make me passive, which is not a good thing for you, for me, for everyone, and even for the world."

Obviously, Hoss, or Dacus, quietly passed a key trump card to him. This card made his bargaining chips more substantial on the original basis, making him more comfortable in this power game, and in the future...

Feeling Finnubar's gaze, Belannaar, who was watching the noisy scene in the distance, withdrew his gaze, rolled his eyes at him with a slightly helpless and reproachful look, and then looked into the distance silently.

Finnubar smiled apologetically. He knew that there was no anger in Belanna's eyes, only a hint of dissatisfaction, dissatisfaction that he did not show his cards and played such a hand. But that was all. Belanna was still on his side after all. He never doubted this.

The next moment, he turned his head, inhaled the last puff of thick smoke into his lungs, then threw the almost burned cigarette butt to the ground and crushed it lightly with the sole of his boot.

At this moment, the commotion in the distance became more and more intense, and a group of traditional nobles suddenly formed a line in an orderly manner, as if preparing for some kind of "ritual".

Finnubar watched the scene, a meaningful smile on his face.

He knew that the real show had just begun.

The Armor of Caledor, this ancient and sacred armor was not cast as a whole, but was gathered together over thousands of years from the fragments of armor left by countless legendary heroes. It is a symbol of the glory of Caledor.

Each piece of armor carries a magnificent epic: the neck armor once accompanied "Conqueror" Caledor in the Battle of Blood Valley, killing enemies like grass; the left arm armor belonged to "Silver Island Savior" Maldric, who resisted the devil's claws; and on the breastplate, there is still an ancient crack, which is the scar left by the assassin master Halkiel Poisonheart's dagger when protecting Prince Alkar.

These armors have long surpassed the realm of mundane things. Some say that it is the glory of the ancestors that inspires the wearers; and even older legends whisper that it is the will of the heroes of past generations, which is reviving through their blood and armor, rekindling glory in the flames of war!

Today, this set of Caledor armor is being worn by Imrik, a man with flying blond hair and a resolute gaze. He slowly walks out of the cleared passage, and every step he takes is like stepping on the ladder of power, causing silent vibrations.

His steps were steady and powerful, his cloak fluttering behind him, and his sharp eyes like dragon pupils swept around, projecting an unquestionable pressure.

After standing still, he held his head high and spoke in a loud yet aristocratic voice.

"We believe that, under the current circumstances, I should become the regent!"

His voice echoed in the hall like thunder. It was a declaration, a challenge, and more...

The traditionalists were excited, their eyes burning with anger. They had been waiting for this moment for a long time, waiting for Imrik to appear, waiting for the true "Son of Caledor" to ascend to the pinnacle of power.

X,592
This day is destined to be recorded in the history of the elves. The bell of destiny has rung! (End of this chapter)