Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

A ghost appeared before Daxus, a twisted and uneasy shadow, like an existence leaking out from the cracks of the world. It did not descend directly, but slowly moved in the air, like a wisp of untimely smoke, carrying a cold and decayed breath, gradually transitioning from virtual to real.

Dark eyes, black nails, eye sockets as deep as a bottomless abyss that can swallow light and memories. Daxus stared at the increasingly clear figure - he knew that he should recognize this existence.

But strangely, he couldn't recognize the other person's identity for a moment.

That face, that cruel, almost bloodthirsty smile, the empty dark eyes, and the black robes woven from spider silk, all exuded a creepy familiarity, a familiarity that penetrated deep into the bone marrow, as if I had seen this shadow in countless nightmares, or as if it was a curse that had long been forgotten but had never really left.

Daxus searched deep in his mind, and the dusty memories slowly opened like a heavy door. Soon, a playful smile appeared on the corner of his mouth.

He knew who this being was.

"Who are you?" Although he already had the answer in his mind, he did not hesitate to pretend to be confused and spoke in a lazy tone.

"Nice to meet you."

A light but cold voice came.

A tall, slender-limbed elf stood there, like a black branch swaying in the wind but never breaking. His robe fluttered gently in the surging air around him, and patterns that did not belong to reality floated on the edges, like fragments of nightmares.

He wore a light ivory mask, so finely carved that it looked almost lifelike—not a disguise but an exquisite deception, which faithfully restored the features depicted on the mask to the elf's true expression, with every smile and every tremor carrying a kind of sickening perfection.

His long hair was as white as snow, draped over his shoulders without any trimming. On his chest hung a jade amulet in the shape of a black-bladed sword, which shone a deep purple light in the light, like a symbol of some ancient religion.

"Me too," Daxus replied, without any sincerity in his tone.

Then, or rather before he finished speaking, he moved.

The brass ring activated.

Time fell into a slow vortex, and the flow of the world was as slow as mud. He changed his five-step pace to three-step and rushed to the opponent.

Without warning, Darkius swung his fist - directly at the ivory mask.

"You bastard!"

He had already determined that the opponent at this moment was a real existence, not an illusion, projection or spirit. His fist touched the real flesh, not the empty phantom.

The next second, this strange creature was knocked backwards by this force, its body twisted and tumbled in the air, hitting the stone pillar with a dull thud, and then it fell heavily to the ground.

Achievement achieved!

Dakwus had sworn a vow on the Nagarythe Bridge at Clar Karond, and now he had fulfilled it.

"Ahem... you have no manners at all." The fallen being struggled to prop up his upper body and coughed out a few mouthfuls of black mist, but there was an almost helpless mockery in his tone.

He saw Dacus raising his fist again with a bad look on his face, so he immediately stretched out his hand and made a stop gesture, with his palm facing forward and fingers spread out, obviously asking him to stop.

"We still have so much to talk about."

"What can we talk about?" Daxus' tone was still cold, his eyes as sharp as a blade.

"A lot." The being climbed up from the ground, patting his dusty black robe, his voice still calm and unhurried.

"For example?" Daxus stretched out his hand, put his five fingers together, palm facing up, and raised it slightly, motioning the other party to open it.

"You're not real."

"Oh?" Daxus deliberately prolonged his tone, with the corners of his mouth slightly raised.

"Just as I thought." The being raised his head, his dark eyes piercing through the eye holes of the mask. "You did not argue about the nature of reality. You knew that all this was not a dream or an illusion. In fact - you died, but you were still aware of my existence, aware of your own existence."

"You are not one of those mortals for whom there is no afterlife, only negation, no existence. You know what those mortals are like, but you are different. Since the beginning of the world, creatures have been struggling between existence and nothingness. And you, of all the elves, are so different."

He paused, his eyes becoming more serious.

"Or... you are not within the scope of elves at all. I am curious, what do you define yourself as? Elf? Mortal? God? Ancient Saint? Are you the incarnation of God? No, you should define yourself this way."

"Should I thank you for your definition of me?" Daxus said in a playful tone, "Or should I think about it? Or should I just not think and just give you an answer?"

He changed the subject.

"Before we start this conversation, shouldn't you introduce yourself?"

"You're right." The being spoke slowly, with a tone of agreement and a hint of sarcasm in its voice, "Death? Grim Reaper? Gravekeeper? Reaper of Souls? In short... no matter what it is, it's not the end of the world."

He raised a long pale hand, his knuckles were slender but sharp as sculptures. His movements were slow and determined, as if he was performing a ritual that had been arranged long ago. His fingertips gently tapped on the edge of the mask, and there was an ethereal and long echo, as if it swept across the entire Minglai.

Then he slowly took off his mask.

In the process, he uttered a deep, patient sigh that was frightening, like an ancient being who had witnessed the rise and fall of all things and was once again expressing his tired pity for the mortal world. This was not an action, but more like a gesture of a god - an action that symbolized "unchange".

"You are not," Dacus sneered in response, his voice full of mockery. Then, he said seriously, "Compared to those long, fancy prefixes of yours, I prefer to call you this - Kaela Mensha Kane!"

At this moment, the air froze.

"Hahahaha...Kaela Mensha Kane! Kane!! Kane!!!" Kane's laughter burst out like a flood, out of control and distorted, echoing wildly in the space. He raised his head and laughed, his cheeks twisted, and he laughed so hard that he wanted to tear the whole world apart.

"What about you? What should I call you? Ashoranka? Or... Dacius Herban?" There was fire and frost in his voice, and every syllable tore open the gap of pain and memories.

"Dakeus, thank you." Dacreus whispered as he slowly performed an elegant salute with a calm posture, as if he was greeting the king in an upper-class court, not a mad god.

"Kaela." Kane tilted his head slightly, his eyes suddenly softened, as if he was thinking about a question he had never thought about before. After a moment, he slowly opened his mouth and gave his name - it was not a self-introduction, but more like the opening of a seal.

"So, are you dead?" he asked casually, his voice light but with a kind of indifference that treated life and death as a game.

"I think... I'm still alive?" Daxus raised his eyebrows slightly, with a tentative and teasing tone in his voice.

"But for the purpose of our conversation, you're better off dead." Caela shrugged, speaking casually, as if he were talking about an insignificant lunch, and he admitted noncommittally, "If your heart is still beating and you're still breathing, then I guess you're alive. But if you're part of this world, then you're definitely not."

"What exactly is the obsession with reality?" Darkius' voice was a little impatient. "So, let's skip arguing about the nature of reality, okay?"

"Real is too vague a word." Kaela smiled, and the next moment, his figure appeared beside Dacus without any sign, as if he had never moved, but reality itself moved him there. They stood side by side, like two old friends taking a pleasant walk.

"But it's real enough for you."

"Does it make sense?"

"This doesn't make sense," Caela whispered, "especially when we have so much to talk about."

"What can we talk about?" Daxus asked, without any trust in his eyes.

"What do you think I will talk to you about?" Kaela smiled and put her hands behind her back, her movements as natural as a scholar strolling in the sun.

Dacus did not answer immediately. His eyes turned to Kaela's hands - they were a pair of beautiful hands, a pair of perfect hands, a pair of works of art, a pair of craftsman's hands.

The nails were black, but that was definitely not dyed lacquer. It was the color of the abyss, the color of the void, the color that could shape the warp and weft of reality in a way that no one other than God could. Those knuckles seemed to know the secrets of creation, and could even pick apart the cracks in the world.

"Complaining." Daxus finally spoke, his voice neither hurried nor slow, like a casual judgment.

Kaela did not respond immediately. He just showed an extremely hurt expression, with the corners of his mouth turned down and his brows slightly wrinkled, like a clown who had just been misunderstood by his friends.

"What else?" Daxus spread his hands and shrugged his shoulders. He looked innocent, as if he was just a bystander expressing his curiosity. "Why are you here? Or... why are you always here? Doesn't this make you bored?"

"I love this world." Kaela said in a low voice, as if he was singing an ancient hymn, "I also like the great actors in it more and more. Some are crazy, some are confused, and some are... close to gods. Watching them weave plans on the stage of fate, as if these plans will be immortal, that feeling is simply wonderful and interesting." He narrowed his eyes, his expression was intoxicated, immersed in the illusion of memory and reality. "As for why I came here?" He tilted his head slightly and whispered, "Because some mortals... They deserve to be witnessed. If no one records it, their lives will disappear quietly, like dust falling on the lake, without any ripples. And that will be the most terrible tragedy in the world."

"Are you talking about me?" Daxus pretended to be surprised, showing an innocent expression, with a sarcastic tone.

"Yes!" Caela answered without hesitation, his tone almost passionate, as if he had finally found the answer, "You are the greatest of these actors, the undisputed protagonist of this world drama!"

After saying this, he lowered his head slightly, a trace of melancholy and respect in his eyes, and then he sighed softly.

“However, even minor figures can make a huge difference,” he said.

"Hmm?" Daxus raised his eyebrows, expressing his confusion.

"Accept the inevitable," Caela said calmly, her voice steady but like a knife cutting through the soul, "know when to surrender."

"Does this sound like some kind of...harsh advice?" Daxus shrugged, pretending to be relaxed, but a hint of caution flashed across his eyes.

"Here." Caela looked at the frozen scene nearby, his tone suddenly becoming solemn, "This is where Caledo held grand ceremonies." His voice seemed to come from the depths of history, slowly passing through the mist of time, "This is also... where Caledo died.

"Caldor is indeed here, draining the energy of this world. He burned everything just to maintain that illusory order. But is he dead? Maybe." Caela paused, a hint of complex emotions emerged in his eyes, "Sometimes, it's hard to say. I find it difficult to evaluate the old elf, his mind is no longer what it used to be. However, no matter what, all this is... meaningless."

At the end of his speech, he shook his head and sighed in a low voice, as if mourning for some lost glory.

"Tell me the truth." Daxus did not respond to Caela's words, but cast his gaze towards the frozen vortex. It was a moment that was like a still painting, which was both awe-inspiring and thought-provoking. "There is a gap between your cognition and mine. This feeling... is very strange."

At this moment, he thought of Morathi. To be more precise, Morathi Kane.

Kaela suddenly burst into laughter, and that laughter was full of naked joy, without any concealment or affectation.

"Oh?" He shook his head slightly, as if to confirm what he heard. "In your opinion, what should I be? A madman? A madman with bared fangs and claws? A madman who speaks incomprehensible and ridiculous words all day long? Kill him? Kill them?"

Daxus gave the other person a look that said "Isn't it?" It was a calm and honest response without any embellishment.

Kaela burst out laughing again. Daxus's eyes hit some indescribable funny spot in his heart.

"It's called...stereotype!" Daxus chuckled.

Kaela's laughter became louder, even with a little uncontrollable spasm, as if all the pain and memories of the past were now laughed away.

"It's been so long since the past..." he said, his voice suddenly becoming low and sinking into eternal memories, "so long that I can't remember it anymore. I only remember that I was... not much different from you now?"

He paused and gave a meaningful smile.

"I am also an actor, and the greatest of them all, the protagonist of this world drama! That's how I define myself."

"Do you know what I'm saying?" He turned his head and stared at Dacus, his eyes as deep as the night sky. "No, you know."

"Of course, reincarnation, change, maybe one day, I will become who you are now, Dacreus Kane?"

The moment these words fell, Dacus suddenly burst into laughter.

Kaela also laughed, more wildly and happily than before.

The two of them were like long-lost friends who had met again, and their laughter carried an indescribable sense of familiarity and the echo of fate. The distance that separated them by epochs and divinity seemed to suddenly shorten at this moment, leaving only each other.

"What role did Edrezer play?" Kane's words gave Daquus a hint, and he asked the question hidden in his heart.

"Flanais? Maranul?" Caela frowned slightly and fell into a brief contemplation. His expression looked a little confused, as if he was picking up long-lost fragments from the ruins of a vague memory. "Sorry, it's been too long... I can't remember it."

There was a sense of long-lost weariness in his tone, as well as an uncertain frankness.

Daxus nodded, the light in his eyes suddenly became brighter, his confusion was solved, this made sense.

Like Cain said—we’re all actors.

Asuryan, Aisha, Kane, Lema, and so on and so forth...and when Daxus recalled everything he saw when he obtained the Trident of the Sea, the fragments pieced together a more complete picture in his mind.

These elves and gods once moved together in the same circle and were in the same theater, and then... the stage was gone.

Lema, or more precisely, Anes, is Caela's sister. Her position is like his cousin. And Edreze? In a sense, he plays the role of cousin, or in other words, of Franais.

This is also the real reason why he failed in his attempt to have Edrez replace Kane.

Edrezer’s real problem is not that he is afraid of Kane, but... there is some kind of complicated bond between them.

This connection is not hostility, power, or fear, but a past that cannot be severed or explained.

This is very...

"Sit down for a while?" Kaela suddenly said, pointing to a set of tables and chairs that suddenly appeared in front of them.

"Of course." Dacus nodded and stepped forward. He reached out and touched the chair to confirm that it was real and not some kind of imaginary illusion. After confirming that it was correct, he sat on it directly, with a neat and tidy posture, as if he had returned to reality.

Then he put down the heavy supplies on his back, skillfully took out a cigarette box, and took out two cigarettes from it.

He handed one to Caela, who took it without hesitation.

"Order yourself." Seeing Kaela waiting quietly, Daxus curled his lips and said with some disgust.

Kaela shrugged, and the next second, the cigarette butt was lit. A wisp of smoke slowly rose up, swirling and dissipating in the air, like the cycle of fate and the echo of memory.

"What is this?" Daxus said, waving his hand to stop Caela from speaking. "Let me guess, a great game that determines the fate of the world?"

At first glance it looks like some kind of chess?
But it is much more than that.

This is a game played on a larger dimension. The board itself is extremely complex. Every square is engraved with runes full of mysterious meanings. Those runes are not static, but flow in a subtle way, dominating time and space.

It's hard to tell the true scale of this chess game.

Each square is like a hole in reality, through which you can glimpse other fragments of creation. The chess game is no longer confined to the tabletop - the squares float in the air, hanging at different heights in an orderly manner, connected by lines, ellipses, and halos, forming an indescribable structure.

The entire chessboard array is located between concentric circles, and these concentric circles themselves are full of hidden symbolic meanings, such as the echo of the universe, the trajectory of reincarnation, or the network of games between gods.

"The Great Game?" Kaela smiled. "No, no, it's just something to kill time when I'm bored."

"Then the question is," Daxus leaned back in his chair and looked at Caela sharply, "Why are you here? Or... why are you here?"

He paused, and seeing that Caela seemed to be hesitating, he immediately added.

"Let's be practical. I know this place won't last long. Don't use the clichés like I love this world or they deserve to be witnessed."

Kaela was silent for a while, slowly exhaled a puff of smoke, and his expression became solemn.

"Don't you really know?"

He looked down at the chessboard on the table, and his voice had a warmth that seemed close to the truth.

"I don't know. You are now talking to the 'Lost One' Ashoranka."

Daxus answered without hesitation, his tone less mocking and more calm confirmation.

Kaela looked at Dacus and suddenly smiled.
"Because of a bet." (End of this chapter)