Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

The death of the Dragon Prince did not deter the Asur. The once noble red and green figure was cut down in the mud and blood, which instead made them completely lose their minds, igniting the most intense rage in their hearts, and burning an inextinguishable flame in their eyes.

Anger and grief intertwined into a raging torrent, shattering the shackles of reason. They were no longer orderly soldiers, but more like a pack of wild beasts driven to the brink of despair, charging toward Duruci's lines with a frenzied resolve.

The earth trembled at the moment of impact.

There were no military-style movements, no synchronized spear thrusts, and no disciplined shield-raising and striking.

Instead, the most primitive and brutal physical confrontation took place.

The power of steel and flesh fused together, like two torrents colliding head-on, unleashing an unstoppable torrent.

The Asur roared to the sky, ramming their shoulders, chests, and arms against Duruci's shield, their feet firmly planted in the muddy ground, channeling all their strength into a wild surge.

At this moment, there are no more skills or rules on the battlefield, only a clash of pure strength and will.

Duru's army, like an iron wall, cold and hard, creaked under this frenzied onslaught, as if steel were about to be torn apart. The soldiers' faces were so close that they could feel each other's breath, blood and saliva mingled together, and roars and curses merged into a deafening cacophony.

This was no longer a battle between military formations, but a brutal struggle that had completely descended into the wild.

Like a zombie horde erupting, Duruci was not facing orderly soldiers, but a horde of zombies. The eyes of the Asur were devoid of reason, filled only with the madness of slaughter and the obsession with dying.

Once the shield wall in the front ranks held its ground, Asur in the rear roared, abandoning their spears and shields, and drawing short blades from their waists. Holding the daggers in their mouths, they leaped into the air, crawling forward on the shields held high by their comrades. Like ravenous beasts, fueled by burning conviction, they trod upon the flesh and blood of their fallen comrades, inching closer to Duruchi's shield.

As they drew near, they roared and stood upright on their shields, their steps heavy yet frantic, as if charging on the beat of war drums. Some were pierced in the face by crossbow bolts and fell backward on the spot, their blood flowing through the gaps in their shields and splattering onto their comrades; but many more continued to run fearlessly, stepping on their shields to keep moving forward.

The raiding ships at the front of the formation bore the brunt of the attack. The gun crews stopped operating their ballistae and tried to clear out the enemy with their Messer swords and shields. However, this time Asur had the advantage in numbers. Duruchi, who was next to the raiding ships, wanted to provide support, but he was pinned down and unable to move.

Despite the desperate resistance of the Duruccis on the raiding ship, they were eventually scattered. They either fell on the deck or were pinned to the ship's side, where they were then stabbed to death by Asur with short blades.

Asur raised his shield above his head, and so did Duruci. Asur had to deal with Duruci's repeating crossbow, and Duruci had to deal with Asur's longbow.

So when Asur, who had cleared out the raiding ships, reached Duruch's shield wall, he found that the narrow gap was not wide enough for them to jump in completely. They either continued running, trying to cross the entire sea of ​​shields, or, in the chaos, were forced to have half a leg stuck in the gap.

They either lay on the shields or stood upright on them; those who had fallen used their feet to brace themselves and their short blades to stab them, while those who stood used their legs to brace themselves and their hands to pry open the gaps in the shields, trying to get themselves into Duruci's army.

Some of the Asurs succeeded. They jumped into the gap, and the instant they jumped in, they didn't stare at Duruchi. Instead, to Duruchi's astonishment, they swung their short blades and stabbed at the gap between Duruchi's visor and helmet.

Screams and curses rose and fell.

Duruci screamed as he was stabbed in the eye. Asur roared and slammed his head against his opponent's helmet, his skull vibrating. He continued to roar as he pressed his body against the helmet.

But Asur's desperate act only gained him a brief advantage, before Duruci's counterattack arrived.

These Asur who entered the battle formation were knocked down by leaf hammers and one-handed axes. Before they were knocked down, before their helmets and skulls were broken, they were still fighting. Even after they fell to the ground, they tried to bite Duruchi's legs with their teeth and hold onto Duruchi's legs tightly with their hands until they were completely killed.

Those Asur who were blocked and unable to jump down were in dire straits. Their legs, which did not fit into the gaps in the shields, became the best targets for attack. Their thighs and calves were smashed until the bones shattered, and the sound of blood and flesh splattering mixed with screams. Their severed limbs trembled between the gaps in the shields.

Some Asur, in their despair, refused to let go. Hanging upside down in the gaps of their shields like suspended corpses, they continued to frantically stab with their short blades, the tips grazing Duruchi's armor skirts and cutting bloody gashes in the gaps of his chainmail. Others aimed straight at Duruchi's helmet, but due to the angle and the helmet's curvature, they couldn't inflict effective damage and were immediately smashed in the head by leaf hammers, their blood and white fluids splattering.

Those Asur who couldn't jump down didn't fare any better. Their legs, which were resting on the shields, were grabbed by Duruchi, who yanked them down, causing them to fall through the gaps he had deliberately left open and into the enemy ranks. Others were dragged down, their bodies half-buried in Duruchi's formation. Before their faces were struck by weapons, their eyes were still glaring wildly, their mouths still roaring, until their skulls were shattered by repeated blows, at which point they reluctantly came to a stop.

Between Duruci and Asur, there were no formations or techniques, only the clash of blood and bone. The air was thick with the stench of blood; shouts of killing, screams, curses, and roars mingled together, making the entire battlefield resemble a boiling pool of blood.

Asur, who managed to reach the rear of Duruci's army, was met with a fierce attack the moment he jumped down from his shield.

Positioned behind Duruch's lines were not weak and ineffective reinforcements, but crossbowmen. When the battlefield descended into the most brutal close combat, they would transform into ruthless butchers.

At this moment, the crossbowmen quickly switched weapons in close combat, abandoning the defense of their crossbows and shields, and wielding heavy spiked clubs and long-handled battle axes, without hesitation meeting the charging Asur.

The short blades wielded by the Asur warriors proved particularly ineffective in this head-on confrontation. They were almost powerless to parry the fierce heavy weapons, but with nowhere to retreat, they showed no sign of backing down. Instead, they swung their blades at the crossbowmen's weapons and armor, buying time for their comrades behind them.

Sparks flew, blood splattered, and screams and howls mingled together, like the drumbeats of death.

Meanwhile, the soldiers in the rear of the center of the Duruqi army became the unlucky ones. The Asur who jumped down from behind suddenly pounced on them, grabbed their helmets tightly, and frantically groped for them with their short blades through the gaps.

Finally, after the sound of steel scraping against steel, a sharp blade found its target, plunging deep into Duruchi's face through the narrow gap between the helmet and visor. Blood splattered, and Duruchi instantly lost his strength, collapsing to the ground.

But that's it.

The gains that Asur had achieved at the cost of their lives were ultimately insignificant, and their figures were quickly and completely obliterated under Duruci's attacks.

The hundred-man spearmen who clashed head-on with Duruci's army were now decimated. Had they not lost most of their strength before the first wave of attack, they might have actually managed to break through Duruci's formation and carve a bloody path.

Once the Asur on the shields and the remaining survivors who jumped down from them were eliminated, the Duruch army quickly rearranged its ranks. The crossbowmen immediately dropped their blood-stained heavy weapons, burrowed into the ranks, and, shouting in hushed tones, worked together to drag their fallen comrades out of the formation.

The entire military formation seemed like a wound healing, rapidly regaining order as if healed by magical power. The broken gaps were patched up in a very short time, and the thick shield wall was once again tightly joined together, as solid as iron.

However, the enemy did not give them much time. Before Duruci's forces could fully integrate, the second wave of attack swept in.

This time, it was Asur's archers who rushed forward.

This was a hundred-man squad that had been decimated by the previous explosions and arrow rain. Now, only twenty-odd remained, broken but courageous. Even with such a high casualty ratio, they could not retreat. They still gripped their longbows tightly, their faces covered in blood, yet with an almost fanatical determination, they stepped onto the shields piled up by their comrades, preparing for a second charge.

But the reality is extremely cruel.

Lacking sturdy armor and protection, the archers were felled by a barrage of arrows before they could even reach Duruch's shield. Blood splattered on the shield, broken arrows and mangled bodies fell together on the muddy battlefield; their bravery ultimately turned into a brief but intense burst of light.

Centurion Duruch, who was commanding the battle along the passage, had already raised his hand to give the order, intending to seize the opportunity to launch a counterattack and completely repel the Asur spearmen holding the front of the army. However, before he could utter the order, a new wave of enemy troops rushed in again.

The second hundred-man spearmen charged forward under a hail of arrows. They too had been torn apart by Duruci's ranged fire, but this time they did not choose to climb onto their shields again. Instead, they positioned themselves directly behind the first spearmen.

Thus, amidst the roar of iron and blood, a new round of struggle began.

The two armies pressed together, transforming into an incredibly violent torrent that crashed head-on against Duruci's shield wall.

In that instant, Duruci's shield wall began to groan. The heavy wooden shield and reinforced iron edges bent slightly under the crushing force of the double blow, as if it were about to collapse completely at any moment.

A suffocating atmosphere permeated the army formation. The overlapping of the two spearmen brought not only pure brute force but also an indescribable sense of oppression. The soldiers at the front of Duruqi were squeezed so tightly that their arms went numb, they had difficulty breathing, and their chests felt as if they were being crushed by stones. Even when they tried to open their mouths to breathe, they were met only with the hot breath and bloody smell of their comrades. The gap in front of them was getting narrower and narrower, as if the whole world consisted only of the enemy's faces and their furious roars.

The Duruci soldiers in the rear desperately pushed against the front, but they could not alleviate the despairing pressure at all. Their arms, which were holding up their shields, went numb under Asur's repeated trampling.

Some people's backs cracked softly from the crush, while others gasped for breath, their eyes bloodshot from suffocation. The shields at the front began to deform, making a cracking sound as the wood fibers tore. Fear flashed in the eyes of the soldiers behind the shields, but they still gritted their teeth and used their last strength to keep the enemy out.

At this moment, the battlefield at the passage seemed to be choked by an invisible force, making everyone's movements slow and heavy. Shouts, crashes, groans, and the sound of blood splattering mingled together, blurring the lines between friend and foe. Only the heavy pressure continued to deepen, relentlessly tearing at the bones and will of every soldier.

In this suffocating struggle, the Duruci army was like a shaky dam, while Asur's spearmen were like a torrent of relentless assaults.

In this situation, the hundred archers following behind the spearmen finally arrived. Stepping over the dense mass of corpses and tattered armor on the battlefield, the first thing they saw was their fallen comrades, shields scattered haphazardly in the blood and mud. But these scenes did not deter them; instead, they became a silent catalyst—without a moment's hesitation, they took a step and began to climb up, using the shields of their fallen comrades as cover.

Their figures surged forward like a tidal wave. After climbing onto the shields, they almost instinctively lowered their bodies and launched a near-frenzied charge.

During the charge, some archers suddenly reached for their waists, took out the spearheads they had prepared from their sheaths and belts, and with a fierce force, inserted the spearheads into the slots of their bowstrings.

The longbow was transformed into a makeshift spear, much like how soldiers in the era of firing squads added bayonets to their muskets, imbuing them with a certain ruthless practicality.

However, this doesn't change anything.

The Duruci soldiers in the army had already completely grasped the rhythm and methods of Asur's attack in the first wave of bloody battle. Their movements were not chaotic, but rather carried a kind of cold composure.

Before the Asur archers could even thrust their spears into the gaps in the shields, the deliberately created tight seals were pulled apart, like a cold and cruel trap.

These Asur often lost their balance in the gaps of the formation before they even had a chance to exert their strength, falling into the densely armored enemy ranks and becoming prey to be slaughtered.

Even those that managed to get in by chance weren't particularly dangerous.

the reason is simple.

First, Duruchi gave Asur absolutely no room to maneuver or exert force. The spearhead's power seemed to be swallowed by the void, sliding limply and weakly across the armor plates. The prone spear had no room to extend at all; the longbow's length was equivalent to the height of a normal elf. Before Asur could adjust to a suitable angle, Duruchi's counterattack came first, his cold weapon striking their necks and faces, or grabbing their arms and pulling them down.

The second reason lies in the drawbacks of the Asur military system.

Conscripts are almost all initially assigned to the archer corps. Only after years of service and undergoing a process of elimination and training will they be transitioned to the pikemen corps.

During this stage, their daily training, and even their actual combat experience, were almost entirely focused on bowstrings, arrows, and ranged attacks.

They rarely had the opportunity to actually wield a spear and face it head-on, so they lacked proficiency in using the spear tip, let alone precision. Thus, when they tried to use their makeshift spear bows to pierce the extremely small gap between Duruchi's helmet and visor, they could only glide across the cold iron surface, leaving sparks flying everywhere.

Even so, Duruci still fell.

Because what Asur archers are truly skilled at is the longbow.

Some archers, instead of launching clumsy thrusts, made an instinctive choice: they abandoned their spears and drew their bows again. Their bodies swayed, their movements were labored, and their breathing was erratic, but they still raised their longbows and forced the strings to draw. Some, barely nocked an arrow, were knocked to the ground by the counterattack of the shield wall, becoming lambs to the slaughter. Yet a few Asur, with an almost insane will, managed to draw their bows to their full extent.

At that distance, it's almost a direct shot to the face.

The power of the longbow was on full display at this moment. The string twanged, and the arrow shot out, hurtling straight for Duruchi's helmet.

Unfortunately, these Asur who delivered the fatal blow did not fare well themselves. They were either immediately engulfed by the enemy ranks or struck by a barrage of crossbow bolts from behind, their bodies tumbling onto their shields like tattered sacks.

The centurion, positioned on the slope, watched this scene calmly. Though his expression was serene, his heart was in turmoil, a turmoil like a surging undercurrent, threatening to erupt into a tempestuous storm at any moment.

However, he was the commander of the army here, an officer who needed to stand firm in the face of storms. He had to remain calm and composed, even if only outwardly so, as solid as steel, giving his subordinates the illusion that he had the situation under control.

As for Tyrandor, this fear lord had no intention of taking over command.

A sense of unease and absurdity welled up in the centurion's heart. At this moment, he even had a faint impulse. If the environment and his status did not prevent it, he would have wanted to ask loudly in public: Who is the madman?
However, he could also understand that if he were the one being cornered, he might be even more frantic than them.

It was an instinctive will to survive and a violent outburst, a bestial instinct that threw all reason and consequences aside. Thinking of this, he suppressed his distracting thoughts and stopped dwelling on these irrelevant ideas.

He raised his head and looked up at the sky.

In the sky, the remaining eight raiding ships continued to circle and attack, spitting out crossbow bolts like a flock of predatory black raptors. But this did not stop Asur's charge into the passage; no matter how many corpses fell, they continued to crash against Duruch's defensive line like a tidal wave.

The third hundred-man spearmen were very close, which meant that the Duruci army's defensive line would face even greater pressure.

He then shifted his gaze to the raiding ship that lay like a fortress not far in front of him. With the roar of ballistae, another group of Asur soldiers were pierced by arrows, falling in droves into the blood, their corpses strewn about.

Even so, it did not stop Asur's almost frenzied charge. They continued to advance amidst the roar of the ballistae, seemingly having completely forgotten fear and death.

He then looked toward the Asur army formation in the direction of the passage. Although his position was extremely threatening, and crossbow bolts fired from the side could easily reap lives and knock down rows of Asur, the Asur seemed to deliberately ignore this place.

In other words, the hundred-man team guarding the junction of the slope and the passage has now become a reserve force and has not yet entered combat status.

A more dangerous hypothesis surfaced in his mind: Asur had not made a command error, but was waiting, waiting for an opportunity.

He turned his head and looked up at the hillside.

The Eagle Flag Squadron's flag still fluttered in the wind, but the spellcasters above had all fallen. Although he had no second glance, he knew perfectly well that it was all related to the explosion just now.

Of course, whether or not, the fact remains that Duruci has now lost his magical support.

He then turned his gaze back to the slope.

The fighting there was even more brutal. Unlike the one-sided engagement at the passage, the troops on the slope were being attacked from both the front and the flanks simultaneously.

After glancing at it a few times, he looked up again, trying to see further into the distance, hoping to catch a glimpse of the banners of reinforcements, even if it was just a faint outline.

However, he saw nothing; the steep, dark shadow of the volcanic cone completely blocked his view.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath; the air was thick with the stench of blood and rust, so heavy it felt like it was pressing down on his lungs. When he opened his eyes, his gaze was sharp as a knife, carrying a coldness honed by experience. He slowly turned his head to look at a trumpeter beside him.

"Go, inform the chief of staff to select five squads from this hundred-man team to support the passage."

During the war, Duruch's officers never gathered together. They would only meet briefly at brief meetings to discuss matters before going their separate ways.

After the meeting just ended, the chief of staff went up the slope to take the place of the absent deputy battalion commander and take charge of the rear guard.

After the trumpeter left quickly, the captain turned his gloomy gaze to another trumpeter.

"Bring the standard bearers down and join me!"

The bugler hesitated for a moment, a flicker of doubt in his eyes, but then saluted and loudly acknowledged the order. Just as he was about to turn and leave hastily, the battalion commander suddenly grabbed his arm.

"What's the rush?! After informing the standard-bearer, go to the Navy and have them send five squads to reinforce us. As for the other squads, deploy them to the battle on the slope, depending on the situation. Go!"

The battalion commander's judgment was correct. After some of his troops were redeployed, Asur on the slope and at the passage moved almost simultaneously. Like a swarm of sharks smelling blood, they seized the fleeting opportunity and charged in his direction.

He glanced back and saw that the military flag and part of the naval forces, driven by flags and horns, were already being mobilized and rapidly converging in his direction to reinforce him. A slight smile played on his lips, but he turned back again, coldly watching the Asur army surging towards him.

Once he confirmed that Asur had not changed his frenzied offensive intent, he revealed a cruel smile.

In his view, as long as his side could engage in combat, the defensive pressure on both the slopes and the passages would be greatly relieved.

Asur's attack was like a raging fire; the more fiercely it burned, the easier it was to extinguish itself in front of the stone wall.

Moreover, if necessary... he already had a deeper plan in mind.

The Asur horde at the passageway is insane, and the Asur horde on the slopes is equally insane, especially on the flanks of the slopes.

The Asur soldiers held firm against the Duruchi shield wall, their faces filled with determination, their eyes bloodshot, and their breathing heavy like that of wild beasts. Meanwhile, the archers who followed from behind dropped their bowstrings. Some dug with their bare hands, some carried with both hands, and some dragged desperately, clearing away the corpses of their comrades and the debris trapped beneath the raiding ship.

Before the anchorages beneath the raider could be completely cleared away, the Asurs eagerly pressed their full weight against the ship's side, attempting to overturn the heavy raider!
The moment the raiding ship began to rock violently, the Duruchs on deck immediately ceased firing. They rushed to the other side of the ship, desperately trying to stabilize it and prevent it from capsizing completely.

Unfortunately, this time, Duruci was too hasty, and even made a fatal mistake in the chaos.

The crossbowmen, carrying shields and heavy weapons, arrived as reinforcements. However, when they squeezed onto the raiding ship, there were too many soldiers gathered on the deck near the side of the ship belonging to Duruchi!

And so, the disastrous result occurred—the raiding ship suddenly sank, creaking and groaning as the entire hull tilted mercilessly toward Duruch's army!
Before several Duruci could even dodge, they were slammed to the ground by the suddenly collapsing mast of the raiding ship, the sound of bones shattering echoing amidst screams. Meanwhile, the Duruci on deck fell in droves, like dumplings being dropped into a pot, their armor clattering and clanging with each impact.

The piercing screams, the sound of flesh being crushed, and the clanging of shields and weapons falling together created a horrifying symphony of falling.

As the breach appeared, archers wielding longbows like spears charged forward, their faces contorted, their eyes gleaming with bloodlust and madness. It was as if, at this moment, they had transformed into melee madmen, attempting to break through Duruci's defenses in the most primal way.

Fortunately, Kledan, who was preparing to board the deck, was a step too slow in his journey. He only appeared beside the raiding ship after it crashed down. Thus, like a gatekeeper boss, he stood alone on the ship's railing, engaging in a head-on battle with the surging Asur.

Each strike was filled with fierce rage; his presence was like a moving iron wall, forcefully blocking the enemies who tried to climb up from outside the ship's side.

Unfortunately, there was only one Kledan in the hundred-man team.

But the reality of the battlefield was cruel and merciless. The raiding ships, which served as fortifications, were not the only ones. On the slope, from the side, from the front, the raiding ships rocked and tilted continuously before finally crashing down. Some crashed heavily into the ranks of Duruch's army, while others tilted towards Asur's lines, engulfing soldiers from both sides in chaos.

The officers on the raiding ship that fell later reacted immediately and, as the ship began to shake violently, ordered the ballistae and arrows to be moved in advance.

However, even so, Duruci lost its most crucial long-range fire support in an instant. The ballistae, which had been positioned high up and capable of suppressing Asur's attack, fell silent amidst the chaos.

Deploying ballistae up the slope took time; they had to traverse the already chaotic enemy formation to reach a suitable high ground for firing. And as the distance between the two sides was forcibly increased, the previously invincible splitting arrows, capable of scattering the enemy in an instant, completely lost their effectiveness.

With his long-range advantage gone, Duruci was forced to engage Asur in a direct confrontation.

As a result, the battle on the slope suddenly became extremely fierce.

The surging crowd seemed endless, with a continuous stream of Asur pouring in through the gap. Their roars echoed across the slopes like giant waves crashing against the rocky shore, wave after wave, showing no sign of retreat.

Duruci's lines began to falter, each step feeling like walking on a knife's edge.

Fortunately, it's not all hopeless.

On Duruci's side, there were still pillars like Tyrandeur, Alaros, and Cledan supporting them. They were like steel nails driven into the battlefield, using their flesh and blood and weapons to prop up the situation that was on the verge of collapse.

More importantly, the Guardians and Soulbreakers, who were in reserve, finally arrived.

Their arrival was like a cold, hard wave of iron, marching into the battlefield with a chilling, murderous gait. They made no unnecessary shouts, only their orderly movements and ruthless killing intent filled the gaping hole that was on the verge of collapse.

The battle continues, and the endless fighting is tearing this hillside, intertwined with blood and fire, apart.

From a macro perspective, the battlefield has been completely engulfed by chaos: waves of Asur surged in, pressing down on Duruci's defenses until they were on the verge of collapse, with every gap crumbling, like a piece of black iron riddled with cracks after being hammered by a giant hammer.

As if sensing victory, Asur's shouts grew louder and more urgent, as if they were about to completely take over the entire hillside.

Duruci's shield wall trembled, spears snapped, and ballistae fell silent; the backbone of the entire Black Legion seemed about to break completely at this moment. Viewed from a distance, this army resembled a colossus on the verge of collapse, ready to crumble at the slightest pressure.

Both sides were hanging by a thread. If they could completely break through Duruci's formation, Asur could break out successfully, while Duruci would hold out until reinforcements arrived...

At the most critical moment, a giant armored tortoise appeared in the sky above the edge of the battlefield. Behind the giant armored tortoise, the sky suddenly darkened, and a large number of sea beasts followed.

At the same time, the rumbling of wheels echoed from the ground, the sounds of collision reverberating as if some kind of torrent was approaching. The sound gradually merged with Duru's roar, forming a terrifying symphony.

The Asur's previously high-spirited shouts abruptly ceased at this moment.

They seemed to have awoke from a frenzied dream, their eyes filled with fear and hesitation. Just moments before, they had been pushing Duruci's army to the brink of collapse, but faced with this sudden turn of events, they appeared to be the ones on the verge of collapse.

Some cried out in alarm, some retreated, the battle lines crumbled, and confidence collapsed at that moment... their last breath was gone.

As the Eagle Flag Battalion's flag moved forward again, the Duruch soldiers, positioned between the slope and the passage, launched a counter-charge led by their battalion commander.

As the giant tortoise, like a dump truck, rolled over the Asur army on the slope, the Asur army completely collapsed. (End of Chapter)