Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

In fact, Tiktato's previous various methods and persistent pursuit of the mask were not a whim. On the contrary, he knew very well what he was doing.

Initially, when the mask first fell into Kallion's hands, its function was still very "simple". In addition to providing a holographic vision, it could also amplify the trainer's mental connection, allowing him to more deeply perceive the emotions, movements and even weak neural feedback of the mount.

It looks like a very advanced magic prop, not some artifact beyond cognition.

However, in reality, there is more to it than that. If I am not mistaken, this holographic vision mask should be a creation of the ancient saints, the Mask of Heaven of the ancient saint Taranksla.

Daxus believed that the Heavenly Mask should be matched with Tarankasla's Heavenly Chariot, just like the helmet worn when driving an attack helicopter or a jet fighter. It is not only used for viewing, but also for mind resonance, rapid command transmission and tactical synchronization.

As for what the sky chariot or heavenly chariot is, that remains to be discussed...

There is a reason why he thinks so.

Although the Wing Dragon Squadron is nominally called a "squadron", in fact, their organization has long exceeded the scope of a conventional squadron and is closer to an "aerospace strike brigade".

Three pterosaurs formed a "squadron", six squadrons formed a squadron; and ten squadrons formed a "flying brigade" - a full 180 pterosaurs, an equal number of skink riders, and supporting ground crew.

According to this standard, there are currently a total of eight such flying squadrons on the continent of Lustria, two in the jungles of the South, and one in Athel Loren. Albion originally planned to add one from the continent of Lustria, but it was withdrawn for this naval battle, and only about one-third of it was added, or three squadrons.

However, the Lizardmen have no idea about this kind of organization. They don't care about military terms such as "squadron" and "battalion". The reason is very simple. The characteristics are there. What they rely on is not the concept of human organization, but the natural connection between blood and spirit.

Especially after the Mask - no, the Heavenly Mask - intervened.

The current Wing Loong Squadron is no longer the same as it was in the past. After several structural adjustments, tactical reshaping and key equipment distribution, the combat effectiveness of the entire brigade has made a qualitative leap, and it can be said that it has become a completely different army.

The most important and crucial upgraded equipment is the "Beggar's Edition Heaven Mask" which was made by Shi Lan based on the Heaven Mask and has simplified functions. The weird thing about this equipment is that it can be used as a command chain and tactical deployment. With its assistance, the dense dotted lines that Kallion saw are actually the visual structure of the entire tactical chain, and as the wearer of the Heaven Mask...

These dotted lines were originally designed and arranged by Tiktato. He projected them into the airspace through mental signals, which were uniformly received and analyzed by the squadron commander, who then assigned tasks to subordinate teams based on the real-time battle situation.

Communicated, reconstructed, and refined layer by layer - more and more dotted lines, spread from high altitude to low altitude, from abstract paths to combat instructions, from "expected direction" to "inevitable dive".

From an outsider's perspective, this system looks extremely confusing, with no distinctions, and even the dotted lines have no color.

But the wyverns and their Skink riders can 'see' it.

They know which line belongs to them, which angle is the ideal dive line, and which time is the best assault point.

No confusion.

Instead, it is as precise as the movement of stars.

however……

Kallion laughed again, this was his third laugh in a short period of time, undisguised, unrestrained, with an almost malicious pleasure. He laughed at Tiktato's anxiety, Tiktato's jumping, and Tiktato's flustered hands.
The original plan was arranged as follows: the sea elements appeared first to disrupt the enemy formation, followed by two forest dragons and a squadron of pterosaurs launching an air strike, and the elven fleet then struck back, advancing from the back, cutting in from the flank, encircling and oppressing, and closing the net to kill.

Perfect three-dimensional coordinated tactics, precise and elegant, cold and deadly.

But reality unceremoniously tore this perfection apart. The sea element was more "active and greedy" than anyone could imagine. It seemed as if it swallowed the entire table of food in an instant, swallowing not only the enemy but also the space for all subsequent tactical deployments.

This wasn't unplanned - it was a complete tactical overturn.

The elves had never actually summoned sea elements, and no one had expected them to display such terrifying power, directly disrupting the entire combat rhythm.

And Tiktat's tactical link system - the tactical network woven with dotted lines, was forced into a state of crazy reconstruction.

Before the first batch of dotted lines were extended to their full extent, their targets were swallowed up by the waves, so they disappeared; the next batch was just drawn, but it collapsed as its targets were completely destroyed.

Build, collapse, redraw, collapse again...

It felt like a harp beginner being dragged onto the stage to perform just after mastering the skills. The result was naturally chaos, confusion, and even a little funny.

After laughing for a moment, the pterosaur he was riding made a beautiful cylindrical maneuver, spinning in the sky like a ring of fire, and then dived close to the position where Tiktatto was.

Sure enough, everything was just as he had judged.

He laughed again, with a kind of gloating satisfaction.

Tiktato, who was cursing, heard his laughter and looked up at him almost reflexively, but Kallion just stretched out his hand and pointed to the distance - the direction of the end of the sky beyond the torn sea.

Tiktato was stunned, hesitated for a moment, then turned his head to look.

The next moment, all the dotted lines went out.

The pterosaurs that were originally ready to dive paused slightly, then flapped their wings together, changed direction, began to re-form, and started flying into the distance, chasing the distant Druchi fleet.

"Thirty or forty knots."

"Thirty-fifty."

"Sound the alarm." Telankar nodded and gave the order expressionlessly.

The sharp siren instantly resounded throughout the entire ship, like a thunderclap passing through the hearts of every elf on board.

But this alarm is not sounded out of fear.

It’s a reminder – prepare for impact.

The entire fleet has been drilled in previous tactical arrangements. How to deal with forced collisions and how to reduce the pressure caused by the impact are not the first time.

The elves already knew how to respond, and yesterday's preparations were precisely for today's battle.

After issuing the order, Telankar stood there without saying a word, quietly gazing at the sea surface in the distance that had been crushed by the flames of war. It was an area that had been "baptized" by the sea elementals themselves - torn apart, swallowed, and reshaped.

The wrecked ships floated on the sea like the limbs of the dead, flags and masts were intertwined and embedded between the sunken ships, the oil spread on the sea surface into mottled flames, and the greenskins who were not yet dead were like floating maggots, wailing, fleeing, and struggling hopelessly.

At this moment, Telankar was thinking.

If it were me, would I be able to block those sea elements?

He couldn't find the answer to this question for the time being.

The Great Eastern class is a strategic transport ship, a huge vessel used to quickly transport troops and does not belong to any combat sequence.

But now, it is about to hit—

Just as armored vehicles should not fight tanks head-on, let alone "ram" heavily armored units of the same level; but if they are faced with a few shabby tricycles or a few rusty cars, a single step on the accelerator is enough to crush everything.

And the green-skinned ships?

It can't even be considered a 'broken tricycle'.

The impact is coming.

But it was not the kind of loud noise that tore the sky and split the sea as everyone imagined, nor was there a rumbling shock wave sweeping across the entire deck. No one was thrown into the air, no one stumbled back, and not even one elf fell down.

on the contrary--

Everything was eerily quiet.

The hull shook slightly, as if it had quietly brushed against a soft floating embankment when moored at night, so subtle that it was almost imperceptible. Only some unfastened metal parts made a few soft sounds at this moment, making a few clear and reverberating sounds like silver bells, and then trembled in the wind and stopped.

On the deck, everything was calm.

Several Asrai elves who had tied ropes around their waists early and were ready to face the impact even felt a little ridiculous at that moment. They looked at each other, their expressions gradually changed from solemn to relaxed, and even raised a hint of ironic smile at the corners of their mouths.

"That's it?" someone whispered.

"So, it's nothing more than that." Another person murmured to himself, as if what he had just experienced was not a fatal collision, but an exaggerated illusion.

As this thought gradually settled in their minds, they slowly leaned out from behind the fence and looked over the side of the ship, looking down.

Down there - is a scene of purgatory.

A sea of ​​corpses spread out, with floating corpses, wooden boards, and debris floating in a staggered manner, and blood water rendering dark red ripples. Broken pieces of deck floated in the middle like torn bark, sometimes rolling, sometimes sinking, and dotted with some still-squirming green-skinned remnants. They struggled in the blood, clinging to broken driftwood in a desperate attempt to escape with the help of the wreckage.

But this is doomed to be in vain.

"Like... a shooting range."

A forest guard commented in a low voice, with no mercy in his tone, but rather calm professionalism and a hint of irony. He bent his bow and drew his arrow, the arrow flashed a cold blue metallic light, and the moment his fingertips loosened, a sharp sound of breaking wind rang out in the air.

whoosh-

The next moment, a greenskin who was still swimming was shot in the throat. His body stiffened, and he turned over and fell into the water, never to float up again.

Soon after, more Asrai joined the silent slaughter. There were no drums, no commands, only coordinated movements and precise operations. They were not impatient, and their rhythm was steady, just like when they were children practicing in the forest with fixed targets, each arrow was calm, steady, and precise.

Whoosh.

puff.

Whoosh.

"Ah-"

puff.

One after another, arrows pierced the greenskins who were struggling to survive. Some penetrated their heads, and blood spurted out like broken wine bags; some pierced their vests, causing them to twitch violently on the water; and others directly nailed them to a piece of driftwood, and both the people and the wood slowly sank into the sea.

Seeing this, the light of survival that had been flashing in the eyes of more greenskins instantly went out. They began to loosen the wooden boards in fear, trying to sink into the water to avoid death, but they didn't know whether that would lead to another more painful ending.

And the Asrai on the boat—they laughed.

The laughter was not loud, but rather delicate and cruel, like a hunter quietly mocking his prey that had tripped over him. Some people were even humming an ancient melody, with a gentle rhythm and a long melody, as if this was not a massacre, but a leisurely pastime before afternoon tea.

At this moment, the crossbow on the ship also slowly started to operate.

The heavy metal arm slowly opened, and the internal structure made a mechanical clicking sound. The thick crossbow arrows were loaded and immediately locked in the slide rail, pointing towards the wreckage of enemy ships still floating on the sea - their waterline was the best target.

"boom--!"

A dull sound resounded across the sea, and the first crossbow arrow flew out of the air, piercing through the hull of a remaining green-skinned ship in an instant. The thick arrow went straight through the skeletal structure, destroying the entire ship like a rotten wood. What followed was a violent surge of bubbles and foam, gushing out from the wound on the hull.

Then came the second, third, and fourth shots.

The rhythm became more and more stable, like beating the drums of victory, or like a performer playing the last part of a piece of music step by step. Every piece of debris that was still floating on the sea was locked, penetrated, and sent to the bottom of the sea one by one.

This is not a battle, but a sea cleanup.

And on the cruising assault ship in mid-air, the leading heavy crossbow also opened fire.

The deafening roar of metal tore through the air, mixed with the buzzing sound waves that shook the soul, echoing over the battlefield. Each round of firing was like a whisper from the God of Judgment, silent but resolute, and without hesitation, it tore the greenskins' last hope of escape inch by inch, splashing onto the surging waves.

Both sides of the deck were filled with Duruchi warriors wearing black armor. They stood in formation in silence, stringing their crossbows with a click.

No commands, no mobilization.

The crossbow arrows fell like rain, uniform and dense, just like Molayg's wings.

shhhhh--

On the sea, the struggling greenskins were like fragile blades of grass in a rainstorm. They had no time to react or wail before they were swept down one by one - hit by arrows, rolled, sank, and never floated up again.

There was no resistance. This was not a fight, or even a hunt.

This was a cold execution, a liquidation procedure run on the battlefield, an extremely efficient and merciless execution of the death penalty.

And Drucci's warships were not idle either.

They were like larger assault ships, gliding on the crest of the waves, their crossbows and crossbows firing at full force, turning the entire sea surface into a purgatory of fire. Each crossbow arrow tore through the air, penetrated the wood, and pierced and nailed the targets on the sea that had not yet sunk.

The greenskins have no escape.

This is not an equal war, but a cold slaughter like a razor cutting through skin. This is the elves' answer to chaos and barbarism, the victory of elegance and reason, and the answer written in blood and fire.

Three huge Oriental-class cruise ships, like the embodiment of death itself, slowly approached the center of the battlefield. They were neither hurried nor slow, neither biased nor unbiased, with their bows held high and their hulls straight, like the hammer of judgment, dragging over with a tremendous force.

Wherever it passed, broken planks, rotting floating corpses, and unsunk wreckage were all shattered, like dead branches hit by a giant hammer, instantly exploding into tiny wood chips and bones, flying among the white waves, and eventually turning into foam and dissipating.

Those greenskins who still tried to escape were like clay dolls being swallowed up, and were undoubtedly crushed into the deep sea. There was no struggle, no cry for help, and they didn't even get a chance to beg for mercy.

They were not the defeated, but the existence that was completely wiped out.

Behind the huge fleet, the Asur merchant ships followed slowly, like a black mass of cavalry. The Asur on the ships were dressed in blue and silver light armor, with stern faces, sharp eyebrows and eyes, and their expressions revealed a knife-like indifference.

They did not shout loudly, only expressed their determination silently.

The bowstrings were stretched and released, and arrows fell like cold rain. The greenskins who were still struggling in vain on the sea fell one after another.

At the same time, the crossbows on the merchant ships began to roar.

Those greenskins who tried to climb onto the half-ruined hull, thinking they had found temporary shelter, were nailed to death through the chest by crossbow arrows the moment they looked up in despair, and were firmly fixed to the broken deck, becoming a mockery of hope.

On the sea surface where the trajectory of death passed, gunpowder smoke, foam and salty blood mixed and drifted, and the wreckage churned up and down. No one knew when it would sink, and no one cared whether it sank or not.

Many greenskins thought they survived.

They wailed, gasped, and prayed, holding on to drifting wood and debris, crawling away from the battlefield little by little, as if they had escaped from hell and returned to the world.

however……

Reality soon told them: that was just a prelude to purgatory.

At the end of this "death track", the Asur merchant fleet that set sail from Tar Yvresse slowed down and turned, like a sword in its sheath, elegant but deadly. They lined up in a row, their formation unfolded like a winch, like the last hunting net.

The Asu on the deck were originally spearmen and now belong to the army group. The reason they appeared here was that Eltharion wanted them to see blood.

And now, they saw it.

The end of the naval battle was their stage. They cleared the field and eliminated all the remaining enemies that were still moving, making sure that no one escaped and that no greenskin could survive until sunset. They launched precise killing, aiming at every greenskin that was still moving and every figure that was still spitting bubbles.

At the same time, high in the sky above the battlefield, the griffins, giant eagles, falcons and sky-slashing ships that had been hovering silently for a long time finally began their long-prepared hunting.

The griffins swooped down with their wings flapping, roaring and carrying their steel-like claws, suddenly descending from the clouds, like a falling meteor, picking up the struggling greenskins on the water, tearing them in half, and throwing them into the air. The giant eagle spread its wings like a knife, and a single sweep could take away a whole life. The falcon was like a short spear thrown out, focusing on the carotid artery and the heart, killing quickly and silently.

The sea breeze screamed between their wings, sweeping up large patches of whitecaps and broken wood.

They are not fighting, they are clearing the battlefield.

The Sky-Slayer hovered steadily in the sky, and the soldiers stood on their exclusive high-position shooting platform, calmly putting arrows on the bowstrings, quietly aiming at the greenskins hiding in the shadows of the wreckage and trying to escape.

This is an aesthetic that is precise to the point of being cold.

The entire hunt had already entered a multi-level, full-dimensional finalization process. From the surface to the sky, from crushing to single kills, from fleets to flying units - advancing layer by layer, leaving nothing out.

There are no survivors.

There was only the increasingly calm sea surface, and floating corpses and charred wooden debris swaying with the waves.

Kalyon laughed again, laughing at the slowness of the Elmir fleet.

The next moment, two forest dragons came rolling in like thunder, full of primitive power. They twisted their muscular and scaled bodies and swooped down from the sky. The wind around them stirred up violent sonic booms, like a tsunami, pressing towards the sea surface wave after wave.

The dragon roared like a drum in the sky, shaking the entire fleet. It was not just a sound wave, but more like some kind of mental oppression.

Kallion still had no plans to act. He just watched and waited - evaluating.

The Pterosaur Squadron is in position.

This time, the dotted lines were generated neatly and quickly in the airspace, without confusion, delay, or frequent redrawing and corrections. The tactical symbols projected by the Heaven Mask were interwoven in the air as accurately and clearly as a spider web, as if the battle veins of the entire sky were activated in an instant.

Tiktato finally stabilized this time.

If it still doesn't stabilize... then there's a problem.

As the forest dragon spewed out the first scorching poisonous cloud, the atmosphere of the entire battlefield instantly turned to depression and suffocation, as if a large-scale, long-planned hunting ceremony had officially begun.

High in the sky, the Winged Dragon Squadron took up their positions in batches at an extremely fast speed. V-shaped assault teams of three dragons each were quickly deployed to attack the greenskin fleet from different angles.

When they dived, they were almost vertical, their wings pulling out low screams in the air, as if even the air was burning and tearing. The air resistance vibrated on their wing membranes, and the tail trembled slightly, just adding a little fine-tuning correction to the descent.

It was at the edge of the range of the greenskin ship's long-range crossbow, but at a height of 500 meters that was enough to ensure a hit and accuracy. The oil bombs fell off all at once, whistling down with a sound of breaking wind.

The next moment, the green ships on the sea exploded with orange-red flame mushroom clouds, heat waves rolled out, wood exploded like thunder, flames devoured masts, decks and iron sheets, large pieces of green ships were thrown into the air like rags blown by the wind, and even screams were drowned in the sound of the explosion.

Thick smoke, carrying the smell of tar and flesh, rose straight into the sky.

The ships hit by the oil bombs were like torn watermelons, split in half, with the inside filled with billowing flames and flying fragments.

Some greenskins jumped into the sea in panic, trying to escape the flames, but in the next second they were covered with the substance extracted from the mouth of the fire lizard, and even water could not extinguish the fire on their bodies.

The Wing Loong squadron, which had completed the bombing mission, did not stop, but instead pulled up to the two wings according to the established movements in the exercise. They did not linger in the battle, but drew out elegant and cold rising curves, and rose back to a safe altitude again.

Kalyon watched it all without taking part or even lifting a finger.

He just used the eyes hidden behind the mask to analyze layer by layer:

Hit rate? Close to ideal.

Screen rhythm? OK.

How is the fire spreading? Excellent.

Command delay? Acceptable.

He was a spectator of the air raid, but he was also a proofreader and a reviewer.

His eyes pierced through the billowing smoke, looking at the greenskin ships that were torn apart by precise strikes, at the greenskins who were forced to jump into the sea, and at the entire battlefield that was unfolding like a game of chess.

Then, he narrowed his eyes, and it suddenly occurred to him that Elmir was probably looking at the sky with a complicated expression on his face, with mixed feelings in his heart?

This thought only flashed through his mind, and he refocused his attention. He looked up in the direction he came from, and saw a series of deep water marks spreading from the distant sea. It was a huge monster hidden under the sea, a sign of impending destruction.

"Here it comes." He whispered, with the corners of his mouth slightly raised.

He flew down on his pterosaur and came to Tiktatto, who also did not participate in the attack.

He couldn't see the other person's eyes because he was wearing a helmet, but he could feel the mixed emotions - excitement, anxiety, anticipation and a little bit of unwillingness.

He stretched out his left hand, first raised his thumb, then put his middle finger and index finger together and made a slow downward pressing motion.

Tiktato was stunned for a moment. This was not the signal they had expected. After the first round of attack, they should have returned to the cruise ship to hang bombs and launch the second wave of attack. Until he saw the gesture conveyed by Kallion and looked at the sea where they came from, he saw the foamy sea surface. He knew what Kallion meant, and he gave Kallion a thumbs up.

At the same time, Elmir's fleet crashed into the greenskin fleet without hesitation. She gave up the tactical postures of "circumventing" and "scraping the edges" and chose the simplest and most brutal one - "eating the whole plate".

The two leading Great Eastern-class cruise ships advanced head-on, like predators pouncing on their prey. The remaining greenskins' long-range firepower hastily launched a counterattack, but all they got was utter despair.

The crudely made catapults and catapults could not penetrate the hull of the cruise ship, nor even break the magic attached to the surface of the cruise ship, let alone stop the cruise ship. The Enil launched a powerful counterattack, and several disposable goblin consumables were also smashed into pieces by the scattered crossbow arrows fired by the long-prepared crossbow cannon, turning into blood mist in mid-air.

Wood chips, flesh and blood mixed with flames, and the air was filled with the smell of burning and chaotic cries.

And this is not the end.

High in the sky, the pterosaur launched a second wave of attacks.

Although the oil bullets had been thrown out, they still had a strong suppressive force. The riders used the harpoon crossbows placed in front of them smoothly, locking the target in the air. After a round of "point killing", they did not choose to reload the target, but instead used the crossbows hanging on their waists or threw the fire leech slings.

The burning fire leeches fell to the deck with a grunt, slid for a distance and then exploded. The flames instantly covered the entire hull, and the dense firepower of the crossbows poured towards the gathered greenskins.

Tiktaq'o's pterosaur partner Zwap also joined the attack. Tiktaq'o and Kallion flew between the greenskin ships, one in front and one behind, like two sharp arrows that cut through the sea breeze. They did not deliberately plan their flight routes, but just used instincts to shuttle accurately in the chaos of the battle, drawing a trajectory of death.

Kaerion would occasionally let out excited cries of joy, his pterosaurs tumbling in midair, as light and agile as an osprey skimming over the water. He liked this feeling, and rather than driving his chariot on land, he preferred to look down on the battle from the sky, using his speed and height to dominate the battlefield.

As his laughter echoed intermittently in the wind, the most terrifying existence finally took place.

A huge whirlpool suddenly formed on the originally calm sea surface, like the pupil of the sea god slowly opening. Deep blue light rose from under the sea surface, interweaving between the waves like veins.

next moment--

A huge hand made of water rose into the sky and instantly covered a relatively intact green ship. With a muffled sound, the ship seemed to be grasped, compressed, and crushed by some irresistible force - wood fragments flew everywhere, the mast turned into powder, and the deck broke with a roar.

The sea elements, the Druchi fleet, the forest dragons, the low-altitude circling assault ships, and the pterosaur squadron formed a four-pronged attack, like an invisible dragnet, shrouding the greenskin fleet in destruction.

The ships rolled, broke, and sank. The sea was covered with wreckage and corpses. The greenskins fled frantically. They rushed into the sea, but soon discovered that the water was not a shelter, but a deep blue pool of minced meat.

At this moment, Elmir's fleet penetrated deep into the greenskin fleet, splitting it in two and then quickly separated. With the subsequent fleet in place, this massacre entered its second climax.

Like a falcon's claws tearing the back of its prey, the following fleets were like a pre-arranged chorus, rhythmically and orderly launching firepower cleansing. Bowstrings and crossbows rotated and rang, and what sounded on the water was not the roar of war, but a cold "sound of execution".

The greenskins were caught in a pincer attack, with the enemy blocking them from the front and chasing them from the back. They rolled on the sea like wild boars in a swamp - all that was left was fear, struggle, and inevitable death.

After the second climax ended, the Asur merchant fleet in the middle did not retreat. They stayed quietly like diligent scavengers. Their mission was the same as the previous merchant ships - to ensure that there was no greenskin left in this sea area before the sun set.

This is a cold, precise, but unchallenging job. It is only ten o'clock in the morning, the sea is calm, the visibility is good, there are no reefs, no haze, and no storms. For these experienced seamen, this is more like a post-hunting stage at sea.

Just as this side entered the consolidation stage, the third climax began, and the greenskin fleet closest to the direction of Ulthuan suffered a devastating blow.

This battle is destined to be recorded in the annals, with the results recorded in glorious words - in just one day, nearly 100,000 greenskins were wiped out, without a single survivor.

But it will never be included in military textbooks.

Because in this battle, there were no lessons, no turning points, no tactical counterattacks - only one-sided crushing, only the ruthless sweeping of wildness by civilization.

It's not war, it's execution.

It is not a victory, it is a judgment.

In the words of Eltharion: We are not fighting a war... we are cleaning the world.

The next day, the combined fleets gathered together and headed towards Ulthuan and Lothern, where more important matters of this naval battle lay.

At the same time, Anaheim also took action.

The real war may have just begun, or it may have already been halfway through, but the way it is unfolding... (End of this chapter)