Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

The meeting held in Tal Sammersan began on the fourteenth day after Imrek sang the Dragon Song.

It started as a small gathering, with a dozen or so dragon princes and dragon mages exchanging information in hushed tones, discussing with anger, doubt, and suppressed emotions. But as more people arrived, and as more information and bloody details came in, the gathering quickly swelled into a large-scale meeting.

Inside the spacious hall, a brazier burned, illuminating faces that were no longer proud. The dragon princes debated loudly, some shouting and others slamming their fists on the table.

The word "Fenubal" appeared frequently at the meeting.

This name firmly occupied the first position, like an inescapable shadow. Whenever the dragon princes began their formal speeches, they would first greet Fenubal, sometimes with a sneer, sometimes with sarcasm, and sometimes with anger. Gradually, this custom of "greeting Fenubal first" became a strange feature of the meetings—a ritual tinged with mockery.

Although the seven thousand troops were wiped out, a thousand Val priests disappeared, and Imralis, Aserion, Astarion, Assanil, Asnil, and nearly thirty dragon princes died in battle, all of this happened at the Val Anvil located in the vast ocean, they did not mind blaming everything on the betrayal and trickery of Finnubal.

Rationally, this isn't entirely logical, but the dragon princes needed an outlet for their emotions.

As the saying goes, "If mud gets into your pants, whether it's shit or not, someone has to take the blame." And at this moment, Finnubar, whom they resent, became the perfect outlet for their anger.

The Kingdom of Caledo has a small population, and its army maintains a strength of around 100,000 year-round. Of these, 50,000 are deployed at the Dragon Gate to guard the gate; the other 50,000 are scattered throughout the Kingdom of Caledo, maintaining a minimum level of order and defense. Of these 100,000, only 20,000 are true standing soldiers; the rest are all recruits on rotation.

If all conscripts were mobilized and merged with the regular army, an army of 300,000 could be assembled, which was considered the normal limit; if pushed further to the limit, it could expand to a maximum of 400,000.

But the dragon princes knew perfectly well that unless it was truly a last resort, they would never choose to mobilize to that extent. Because that would mean production would almost completely stop, fields would be left uncultivated, workshops would be left unoperated, and the entire kingdom would collapse as a result.

And what's even more fatal is—money!

There isn't enough money, and even if we could gather everyone together, we couldn't provide them with enough weapons.

Half the soldiers were unarmored, armed only with spears and shields; the other half wore only rudimentary half-armor, providing only basic protection for their chests and heads. Fortunately, they had no shortage of basic weapons such as bows, spears, shields, and arrows, but this proved utterly inadequate in the face of a real war.

The Battle of Val's Anvil resulted in the Kingdom of Caledo losing 2% of its military strength in an instant. The number may seem small, but in a sparsely populated country, this is a void that is almost impossible to fill. What worries the Dragon Princes even more is the loss of the Dragon Princes themselves.

The total number of dragon princes in the entire Kingdom of Caledo, regardless of gender or strength, is only slightly over two thousand.

In this battle, they suffered a loss of 1.5%.

These 1.5% are not nameless individuals, but rather pillars of strength capable of independent combat and defending their territories. Even more critically, they also lost an extremely powerful dragon.

What frustrated them even more was the "unknown".

All the dragon princes knew was that Asanir had died fighting the Fang of Death. As for how they died, and under what circumstances they were defeated, they could only attribute it to the sea monsters and ships flying in the air described by the remnants of the army.

That sense of confusion, bewilderment, and unease permeated the conference hall like a poison.

The second most frequently occurring word is "Miyl".

Whenever the important business was concluded, the dragon princes would unanimously condemn the High Forge Priest's betrayal, using his rebuke as the formal way to end the meeting. Following Kotek, Miel became yet another traitor deemed a villain. Every time his name was mentioned, it was accompanied by a deep, burning rage.

The third frequently occurring phrase is: What exactly is Imrek's current situation?

This sentence echoed almost continuously in the meeting, repeated over and over again, spoken by different people, all carrying the same anxiety and confusion. Some voices were hoarse, some were filled with anger, and some wore cold smiles to mask their unease. But no matter how many times it was repeated, the answer remained a blank.

Finally, seeing that the discussion was making no progress and everyone was just going around in circles with the same question, Elisander made a decisive decision. He ordered the dragon princes to immediately conduct a survey of the artisans in their respective territories, and then bring these people to Tal Sammersan to gather them together and resume production.

This would normally be utterly impossible, unthinkable. The artisans are the Dragon Princes' private wealth, the foundation upon which their territories maintain their prosperity and status. To ask them to hand over these resources would be tantamount to tearing out their own flesh and heart.

However, the situation is now completely different.

The shadow of war was suffocating them, and the losses and crises made them realize that even if they were unwilling, they had to bow their heads. If they wanted the war to continue, and if they wanted to avoid complete collapse in the next attack, this step was necessary.

Thus, in a somber atmosphere and amidst silent compromise, the resolution was ultimately passed unanimously. No one applauded, no one cheered; only the crackling of firewood in the brazier sounded particularly jarring in the hall.

Just as the meeting reached a crucial juncture, the messenger from the Kingdom of Elion, who had been traveling from the direction of Tar Elier, finally arrived. Covered in dust and weary from his journey, the news he brought sent shockwaves through the entire meeting hall once again.

When the Dragon Prince and the Dragon Mages learned that Duruchi had already occupied the northern peninsula of Elion, a commotion erupted in the hall. Some cursed, some slammed their fists on the table, and some remained silent, their faces so dark they seemed to drip with water.

The upper echelons of Caledo have suffered too many blows in just a few days.

But, that's all.

Despite the shock and anger, no one can make the final decision on whether to send troops, when to send troops, how to send troops, or how many troops to send.

Everyone knew that this was a decision for Imrek to make.

Even if others are nowhere to be found, even if rumors are rampant, he is still the only one who can make the decision.

Despite Elisander's great abilities and high prestige, and the respect he commanded from all the dragon princes present, he could not issue orders in Imrek's stead. All he could do was send messengers to the Dragon Gate to reinforce defenses and warn the guards to be vigilant. He also indicated that, if necessary, the Caledonian forces would cooperate with the Kingdom of Elion's military operations, maintaining contact and providing support.

He then proposed a second resolution: that Leandera and the Dragon Mage immediately return to Dragonspine Mountains to personally investigate Imrek's situation and confirm his fate.

Meanwhile, the dragon princes were not idle either. With their assigned tasks, they were to conduct deeper mobilizations in their respective territories, pushing the war machine of the Kingdom of Caledo to its limits. They all clearly felt a sense of oppression; the tidal wave of war was crashing down upon them.

Thus, the three-day meeting finally came to an end in a heavy and eerie atmosphere.
-

File Number: Shadow Alley Case

Submitted by: Adria
Target: Colin Damer, thief in Aldorf South
I. Background Information

Colin served Radnor from childhood and was accustomed to seeking luck through theft. He considered himself "the son of dice" and was known in the guild for his cunning and dexterity. He usually operated in alleys and markets, offering sacrifices to the gods with skillful hands and a quick mind. He had no desire for wealth; what he sought was merely the instantaneous pleasure of stealing and the freedom to roam outside the rules.

Initially, his prayers were all about avoiding guards, winning bets, and surviving one more day on the edge of a knife. Although his actions were outside the law, they did not show any obvious signs of heresy.

II. Abnormal Signs

About a year ago, Colin's behavior gradually changed:

He was no longer satisfied with simply stealing, but became fascinated by the "process of deception".

He began designing elaborate scams, not only to swindle money but also to weave layers of lies, all to watch the victims' expressions when they discovered the truth.

His obsession with dice and cards turned to the "relationship between necessity and chance," claiming that everything in the world could be rewritten.

He repeatedly stated in the guild that every theft is an experiment in predicting the future, and every stolen item is no longer just loot, but a node in the thread of fate. Finally, he even began to proclaim that true theft is not about taking property, but about changing the choices of others and oneself.

III. Suspicious Behavior

He drew symbols in his safe house, incomprehensible, labyrinthine patterns.

When Shadow Hunter was observing him, he noticed more than once that he was whispering to himself, as if talking to the air.

"Luck is just the beginning; true skill lies in bending all possibilities to your advantage." "Theft should not stop at material possessions, but should steal ideas, the future, and even the trajectory of the world." "Every deception is a transformation; every conspiracy is a piece of the puzzle leading to eternity."

These words, all spoken by him, are filled with ever-changing puns and riddles, and have gone far beyond the scope of Radnor's faith, revealing a pursuit of endless change and trickery. Although he claims to still be loyal to the god of theft, from an external perspective, he has embarked on a much deeper path.

Those around him were also influenced by him. The petty thieves who cooperated with him often developed a strange obsession after a few operations: they began to argue about how to turn an ordinary theft into a branching point with countless possible outcomes, and some even stayed up all night just to deduce a thousand different ways to break into a house. The result was often failure or mental breakdown, but Colin himself became increasingly calm, as if he had gained clarity from the chaos and fragmentation.

IV. Final Results

After confirming that he was indeed in trouble, Shadowhunter sent an anonymous letter to the witch hunters' department. In the final pursuit, Colin used layers of lies to lead the entire security team and witch hunters into mutual suspicion and chaos.

After his plan succeeded, Shadow Hunter intervened and killed him in the alley. Before dying, he said: "True luck isn't escaping, it's making others fail according to your script."

Clearly, he failed.

V. Conclusion

This case demonstrates that if Radnor's followers become overly engrossed in lies and conspiracies, they will eventually cross a blurred line and descend into a deeper vortex. That power, luring people in the name of 'wisdom' and 'control,' actually transforms their souls into part of an endless deception.
-

Case File Number: Uberrick Winery Case
Submitted by: Adria
Subject: Otto Wilman, sommelier
I. Background Information

Otto Wilmann, born into a commoner family, became a sommelier due to his exceptional sense of taste and memory. His original duty was to identify vintages and assess the quality of wines, ensuring the purity of the beverages served at aristocratic banquets. In his early years, he was known for his meticulousness and never made a mistake, earning him the title "The Tongue of Ulbricht."

II. Abnormal Signs

His behavior and words began to show signs of abnormality five years ago:

He was no longer satisfied with simply appreciating wines; instead, he began to seek "a higher level of flavor."

He often described in his notes the "silky touch" and the "silent yet soul-stirring aftertaste".

It has been observed that he becomes dazed while tasting it, unable to extricate himself for a long time, as if his senses have been torn apart.

"True wine does not nourish the body, but ignites the soul." "Taste is merely the entrance; aroma, touch, and pain are the path." "In a glass of wine, I see eternal joy."

These words all came from his mouth.

III. Suspicious Behavior

Otto built a private wine cellar, inviting select guests to visit. These guests often stayed until dawn, leaving with dazed and infatuated expressions.

The wine cellar was strangely decorated, with walls covered in purple-red and black fabrics and so intricate carvings that they were dizzying.

He gradually transformed "tasting" into a kind of ritual: guests must first close their eyes, listen to deep music, and then drink the wine.

IV. Final Results

During the witch hunters' routine search, Otto and all the guests in the cellar disappeared. Only the remaining wine flowed freely, emitting an unusual fragrance that caused the hunters to hallucinate and become excited. Ultimately, they had to purify the entire cellar with flames, and Otto's whereabouts remain unknown to this day.

V. Conclusion

This case reveals that the corruption within the Sigma Empire did not manifest itself in the form of armed rebellion, but rather lurked within hedonism. Those who push their senses to the extreme, seeking truth in taste, touch, and pleasure, will ultimately be drawn by invisible chains to an unspeakable end.
-

File Number: Reinhardt Case
Submitted by: Adria
Subject: Reinhard von Arden, scholar, former lecturer at Aaldolph University
I. Background Information Reinhardt came from a noble family and was highly learned, having been praised for his research on ancient poetry and folk art. Early investigations showed no abnormalities, and he made significant contributions to both scholarship and teaching.

II. Abnormal Signs

About three years ago, Reinhardt's writing underwent a significant transformation. His writing abandoned his previous austere style, adopting instead an extremely complex, ornate, and even almost psychedelic linguistic style. Readers generally reported that his work was "highly infectious," but also accompanied by an indescribable restlessness and yearning. Several students, after repeatedly studying his manuscripts, became excessively engrossed, even abandoning their studies.

III. Suspicious Behavior

Their clothing and speech gradually became more extravagant and exaggerated.

He frequently attended certain "nighttime gatherings" in the city, justifying it as "studying the limits of the human mind."

In the classroom, his lectures were more like a performance, and the students were extremely dependent on him, showing signs of fanatical following.

He often wanders alone in front of sculptures and murals late at night, gazing for long periods at patterns with extreme ornamentation.

IV. Final Results

Reinhardt disappeared three months ago, last seen at a party that was described as "so big it was almost frenzied." Surviving witnesses described him as being "completely engulfed by flames" that night, and then vanished without a trace.

V. Conclusion

Reinhardt's transformation was not sudden, but a gradual, cumulative process. From the initial shift in aesthetics to the metamorphosis of his linguistic style, and then to the complete indulgence in his lifestyle, it presents a highly consistent trajectory. Its roots cannot be explained by purely psychological or social factors; it seems more like being influenced by some external and hidden force—a force that uses beauty and pleasure as a guise to actually corrupt reason and erode the soul.

Notes
We cannot confirm whether he was simply a fallen individual or had become an "echo" of that power. But one thing is certain: no scholar will ever mention his name in public again.
-

The fifteenth day since Imrek sang the Dragon Song.

Darkus slumped back in his chair, casually flipping through the report on unusual behavior submitted by Adria.

Who the hell is Adria? (Chapters 315 and 708)
This report is incredibly thick; it's more like a book than a report, a massive work worthy of being used as an archive.

The archives record the souls that unknowingly succumbed to temptation. They were originally scholars, craftsmen, winemakers, sommeliers, thieves, and even loyal servants and acolytes. No one realized when they crossed that irreversible threshold, but their actions revealed a fact—they no longer belonged to their old faith, but had embraced another unspeakable one.

Slaanesh and Tzeentch never appear in the entire document, but they are implied in every sentence and every paragraph, each one seemingly depicting a different facet of the same shadow.

The Shadow Hunters scattered throughout Elsin Alfven, besides their intelligence-gathering duties, were also secretly assigned to discover and observe these anomalies. It was they who, like spider silk, wove together these fragmented and vague traces, ultimately forming this oppressive and suffocating file.

It is conceivable that this file is only a small part of what has been discovered, and much more terror lurking in the shadows remains undetected.

Besides this report, which is as weighty as a stone tablet, there is another file that looks thin. But it is not a simple report; rather, it is a compilation of a series of action records.

While observing, Shadow Hunters also switch identities when necessary, becoming either witch hunters or their informants. They investigate unusual behavior while secretly observing the witch hunters who call themselves the blade of justice. When they confirm that the witch hunters are unable to handle a threat, they no longer write anonymous letters but report the situation directly to Adria, who then weighs and evaluates it.

Dream Wine is a completely prohibited substance within the Empire. Anyone involved in its circulation, sale, or even accidental tasting will be treated as a heretic or potential cultist if exposed.

However, in Marienburg, a free port city where wealth and desire intertwine, it is openly listed as a legally sold luxury item. Even so, this liquor is not readily available; it remains elusive, as if deliberately hidden in the shadows, and when it does appear, the price is outrageously high.

At first glance, this thick, dark-colored wine is incredibly deceptive. It looks like a sweet dessert wine from the eastern Grey Mountains, its deep liquid shimmering with an almost alluring glow, as if it were holding not a liquid, but some kind of semi-solid dream. But in reality, it is not wine in the true sense, but rather a profaned essence corrupted by some unspeakable force, each drop like a juice extracted from flesh and soul, carrying a forbidden fragrance.

The first person to notice this anomaly was the infamous "Human Widow Slayer" Trankas Kundamanlier.

During a conversation with an Asur Sea Guard, this elven warrior, who should have been calm and composed, repeatedly mentioned words like "dream wine," "dreamlike," and "wonderful," his tone so urgent that it was almost pleading and yearning, like a person who had been thirsty for a long time finally finding water, his obsession bordering on madness. The Sea Guard's purpose in seeking him out was to inquire whether more of this fine wine could be found.

At first, Trunkas did not suspect anything.

He naturally attributed the dream wine the other party mentioned to some kind of rare wine circulating within elven society, a wine that Lauren Loren also possessed.

However, as the conversation continued, he soon realized that something was wrong.

The sea guard's expression when mentioning the dream wine was one of excessively relaxed laughter, his eyes vacant yet flickering, and his body language strange and illogical, as if his body and soul were out of sync. His slightly trembling fingers and the hidden urgency in his breathing clearly indicated not the satisfaction of normal drinking, but a deeper level of indulgence.

Trankas immediately became alert. He secretly sent people to monitor the sea guard and immediately reported the situation to Adria.

When Adria arrived at Marienburg and accompanied Trankas to visit the commander of the Sea Guard, the situation was finally confirmed. The Sea Guard's daily behavior was indeed noticeably abnormal, with an undeniable mix of sluggishness and excitement, as if he were indulging in a dream while struggling in reality.

The investigation thus officially began.

Soon, clues surfaced. The elves followed the trail and discovered that this so-called "Dream Wine" originated from a secluded monastery in the eastern part of Reikland. That monastery almost never appeared on any official maps or in church records, as if it had been erased from people's memories by some force, yet it had long festered in the shadows.

So, one night, the elves secretly set out.

The command structure included Adria, Trankas, and the Sea Guard officer; the team members were a mix of different groups: the ruthless and efficient Duruchi Shadow Hunters, the Enil War Dancers who danced wildly on the death line, and the disciplined Asur Sea Guards.

When Darkus was active in Aldorf, Enil, the waitress who collected taxes from human gangs, was among them.

During their investigation, they gradually uncovered the true nature of the monastery.

The monks weren't praying or practicing meditation; they were collecting the sap of a bizarre plant that didn't grow in the soil but was rooted within the bodies of living, breathing people. The victims, utterly deranged from their sanity by indulging in this dreamlike intoxication, were placed deep in the forest, their limbs restrained, their chests rising and falling, roots crawling up their internal organs and limbs like writhing veins. The monks extracted the sap from their bodies with the cold, practiced skill of a winemaker harvesting grapes from a vine.

Even more horrifying is that some of the victims were not forcibly abducted. They claimed to be "summoned by inspiration," and entered the monastery willingly under the influence of some kind of hallucination or whisper, becoming living nourishment to maintain the cycle of the evil plants.

An illustration was also included in this record of the operation.

For bystanders, any untrained ordinary person, watching for just a few seconds will cause mental confusion.

In the images, it's extremely difficult to distinguish whether a person has transformed into a plant, or a plant has disguised itself as a person. Flesh and roots intertwine, blood and leaves assimilate, forming an unprecedented and terrifying combination. If one had to summarize it in a single word, it could only be called a "vegetative state in the true sense."

This situation has clearly gone beyond the scope of observation and bystandership; we must strike hard and show no mercy!

Thus, both these vegetative people and the monks who controlled them were completely slaughtered by the elves in the night.

Not a single person was left alive.

As it turns out, this dream wine is not the dream wine understood by the elven society. Its effects are dangerous to the point of being blasphemous, and its addictive power is so strong that almost no one can resist it. A mere sip will generate an endless craving, and the emptiness in one's heart will be filled little by little by desire.

The consequences of long-term consumption are even more fatal.

It can slow down aging and maintain the drinker's youthful appearance, but this continuation is merely a fragile illusion.

Outwardly young, but inwardly decaying rapidly. Their blood became murky, their bones as fragile as withered wood, and their internal organs withered silently. These monks appeared to be young and handsome men and women, yet their bodily functions were no different from those of the dying.

Moreover, their pupils were as deep as ink, yet they shimmered with an eerie light, seemingly reflecting the drinker's deepest desires and illusions. This anomaly was easily identifiable and was recorded by the elves as a direct consequence of heavy drinking.

As for the dreams brought about by the dream wine, do they have any prophetic or enlightening nature? Can those terrifying nightmares drive people mad? And can those beautiful dreams lead people to indulge in laziness and addiction?
The elves knew nothing of this, and none of those present were willing to taste this filthy wine brewed from living, vegetative beings.

Before leaving, a large fire was set on fire.

Flames erupted, eradicating the monastery and all its filth. The night wind carried the stench of burning and the acrid smell of smoke, and thick smoke obscured the stars, with only the firelight leaping violently in the darkness.

And this was just one of the operations.

The elves have carried out many similar purges in different regions, and Duruchi and Enir have almost never been absent, always being the most resolute executors. Asley and Asul, on the other hand, participate only sporadically, their involvement often depending on the location and nature of the mission.

Just like in Nunn.

The Shadow Hunters who were there unexpectedly discovered an unusual gathering. At first, they thought it was a group of cultists operating in secret, but as they observed more closely, they found that this was not the case.

That wasn't the degenerate they were looking for, but another extreme organization—the Yellow Fang Cult! (Introduced in Chapter 399)

Logically speaking, the Yellow Tooth Cult should not be within the Shadow Hunter's strike range, but in the same neighborhood, another, even more serious gathering is about to be held openly.

The Enlightened Ones are a gathering that simultaneously adheres to two taboos. Their members are either wealthy or noble: some are high-ranking nobles, greedy merchants, corrupt officials, as well as artists and bards who are obsessed with inspiration.

Such combinations are far beyond the scope of what witch hunters can handle.

After confirming that the Enlightened Ones would be holding an art exhibition in Nunn, and that almost all of their core members would be present, Duruci, Enil, and Asley made their move.

They infiltrated silently like blades drawn from their sheaths in the night, the entire process meticulously planned. For the first half of the night, the art exhibition hall was ablaze with lights, the golden chandeliers illuminating the absurd and grotesque paintings. Nobles and merchants, scholars and artists alike raised their glasses in whispers, indulging in their so-called "inspiration."

But beneath this dazzling and decadent atmosphere, a deadly threat was quietly spreading.

The elves cleansed the art exhibition, slaughtering all the cult members at the banquet. There were no bows and arrows, no sounds of ranged attacks, only the whisper of cold daggers slicing through the air.

The wet sound of a throat being slit was masked by the clatter of heels and the lingering notes of strings; the blood splattered on the oil-painted canvas only made the works appear more eerie.

The whole process was swift and clean; however, the elves were not satisfied after the slaughter.

And so, the idea genius appeared!
Having come up with an idea, and still not satisfied with killing, they turned their attention to the Yellow Tooth Cult members' gathering point, which was only two streets away, with their killing intent and excitement still lingering.

Dakos knew very well that the true founder of this gathering of enlighteners was Drachers.

That once arrogant villain, the tyrant on stage, the director of countless horrific plays, had long since died at his hands, becoming a thing of the past. But even so, the sect continued to operate like a relentlessly spinning gear. The believers were lost in fanaticism, continuing their descent even without a true mentor, until they were finally discovered by the elves and thoroughly cleansed in the darkness and by firelight.

Ding-ding-ding.

A heavy knocking came from outside the door.

"Go!" Darkus didn't even turn his head.

The door was slowly pushed open.

“They’re back,” Genevieve said softly as she entered, her tone low yet carrying an undeniable weight. “It seems something has happened?”

"Oh?" (End of Chapter)