Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

The moment Liv set foot on the Kingdom of Avalon, her first feeling was that she was home! That sense of familiarity was a call from her blood, an intimate embrace between the earth and her soul.

Indeed, this is true. Compared to Lauren Loren's slightly unfamiliar aura, Aether Loren and Avalon share a similar aura, as if they were born of the same parents, sharing a common origin and their energies intertwined seamlessly with nature. Lauren Loren, on the other hand, seems more like a child born of a stepmother; although both are named "Enchanted Forest," their aura is always somewhat lacking.

Although it was called a mission, it actually carried a sense of intrusion.

There was no prior diplomatic note, no agreed time, and no pre-arranged meeting place. In a human nation, such actions would be almost tantamount to offense. But this was no problem for Liv, because in her eyes, this place was like home, and home doesn't need knocking.

After all the members of the delegation landed, under everyone's gaze, Liv slowly raised her hands, holding the divination staff, a symbol of status and power, high above her head. Her blue cloak fluttered in the wind, her white robes accentuated her figure, and the exaggerated and ancient antler helmet on her head made her look like a priest statue from an ancient legend.

The next instant, she slammed her divination staff into the ground with a decisive and unstoppable resolve, imbued with the solemnity of an ancient ritual.

For those without a second eye, this series of actions was undoubtedly extremely shocking: solemn, mysterious, and even breathtakingly majestic.

At that moment, Rife seemed not to be an ordinary diplomatic envoy, but rather the spokesperson for the forest itself. If the members of the delegation had not been familiar with her appearance, they might have truly thought she was a mysterious messenger who had emerged from the depths of the forest, rather than the leader of this expedition.

But to those beings with a second vision, the scene was entirely different. The instant the staff touched the ground, a ripple suddenly spread outwards from the tip of the staff, extending along the land in all directions.

Liv slowly closed her eyes, gripped the staff tightly with both hands, leaned forward slightly, and became one with the earth. She was listening, breathing, and communicating.

A minute later, new ripples appeared, spreading out like pebbles thrown into water.

The whole process lasted a full five minutes.

The moment the fifth ripple appeared, Liver's originally bright and gentle face suddenly turned gloomy, and the expression between her brows was almost dripping with water.

There is a life-related spell called "The Lies of the Earth." Its essence is to communicate with the earth. After a successful casting, the caster can instantly learn about the local terrain, vegetation, water sources, and life force.

However, what Liv used was an advanced form of this spell, her signature move, her trademark technique. Furthermore, because her spell was cast in the Enchanted Forest, it received a natural amplification, as if the earth itself was willing to reveal its secrets to her. In just five minutes, she had grasped the entire fabric of the Kingdom of Avalon, as if she were personally turning the pages of a book written by the earth itself.

Within that scroll, a cluster of light stood out conspicuously.

That is the Eternal Queen.

Her presence was so unique it was almost blinding, like a solitary lighthouse in the darkness, or a flickering torch in the boundless night. Even without ever meeting her, a single touch of the heart was enough to know how unique that presence was.

However, what you fear most is exactly what happens.

At the same time, Liv also sensed other presences. Vague, mixed, and dangerous auras were hidden within the veins of the earth.

They are not light, but shadows.

They are not lighthouses, but smog.

Liv calmly explained what she had learned to the mission members, and Schrinassto immediately ordered the team to assemble, acting swiftly and decisively. Meanwhile, Liv made another attempt to establish contact with the Eternal Queen.

However, what responded to her was an unstable echo, like trying to catch the reflection of a light on a stormy sea. The information was intermittent, but this also proved that her perception was correct.

After confirming that everyone was in place, she took a deep breath, raised her divination staff, and began to perform another of her special skills.

The world's roots move, start!
As the last syllable of the whispered chant faded, the energy of heaven and earth was stirred. Deep within the earth, ancient roots began to awaken, stretch, and intertwine, ultimately paving a path on an unseen level.

One moment, the delegation was still standing on the coast of the Kingdom of Avalon, the salty sea breeze and the scent of the reefs still lingering beneath their feet. The next moment, they found themselves in an open area near the Winterwood Palace.

The mission entered the heart of Avalon.

The sky was high and clear, as if washed by a cold wind. A few wisps of white clouds floated on the pale blue sky. The sunlight shone on the snow, so bright that it was almost blinding. The snowflakes, dancing in the air, sparkled in the sunlight, like countless shattered diamonds cascading down, draping the land in a dazzling radiance.

The snow underfoot was white and soft, each step accompanied by a crisp "crunch," a rhythm unique to winter. In the distance, the ancient trees still stood majestically, their thick trunks covered with thick snow, and the ice crystals hanging from the branches refracted the daylight like strings of hanging crystal chandeliers.

Winterwood Palace is hidden deep within this snowy landscape, neither revealing itself nor showing off, yet quietly dominating this area.

Liv took a deep breath of the icy air, her chest tightening slightly from the cold, followed by an intense sense of clarity. Unlike the mild, spring-like climate of southern Ausuan, the winter here was distinct and intense, with an undeniable presence, making her feel as if she had entered the territory of Atiwis, previously dominated by Sehonran.

Her feelings were extremely complicated at that moment.

She felt a sense of familiarity; the earth's veins resonated with the rhythm she knew so well in Azsorloth, as if she had truly returned to a home that was rightfully hers. Yet, she also felt a sense of alienation; this land was ancient and austere, unlike the gentle flow of Azsorloth, but rather possessed a chilling sharpness. It was a silent warning: to gain a foothold here, one must be recognized.

Snowflakes landed on her antler helmet and blue cloak, shimmering in the sunlight, as if she herself had become part of the snowy landscape. She raised her hand to gently brush them away, yet felt that they were the mark this land had bestowed upon her. Her heart became exceptionally calm at this moment, like a silent baptism—both a welcome and a test.

Behind her, the mission members gradually regained their footing, and Cecin-Hal and Springtwin began to transform from their dragonborn forms into their dragon forms.

She stood there quietly, her hands gripping the divination staff tightly, her eyes deep and unfathomable. The daytime snow illuminated her face, but her heart was like this winter forest: outwardly calm, yet turbulent beneath.

Just as she had anticipated, the delegation encountered the Avalon sisters before they were even fully prepared. These young women, who had emerged from the depths of the forest, had tears streaming down their faces, and their expressions of sorrow and pain seemed deeply etched on their faces. Even as they struggled to maintain their formation, they could not conceal the heaviness in their hearts.

Their first reaction upon seeing the delegation was to freeze, their steps halting in the snow, their breath condensing in the cold wind. Then came surprise, their eyes flickering as if they couldn't comprehend the sight before them.

And then... nothing happened.

There was no hostility, and no conflict that escalated into sword fights.

After all, they recognized the Hosse; their bloodlines and lineages were intertwined, and their faces were familiar. However, they couldn't understand why these Hosse swordsmen and mages were here, nor could they comprehend the scene of them traveling with dragons. This seemed particularly jarring, even eerie, beneath the snow-covered forests of Avalon.

Besides the Avalon sisters, the group also included the Hoth Sword Saint—Eveline Eagleblade. A Hoth greatsword slung across her back, its hilt pressed against her spine; the sword was an extension of her body. Her hands were carefully cradling a young girl in her arms. (Chapters 747 & 748)
The brief exchange began, led by Istrana, the chief handmaid of the eleventh Eternal Queen, Elariri. At this moment, her posture was upright and her words restrained. In her eyes, this force was undoubtedly a reliable ally, but her eyes still carried an undisguised pain and doubt.

However, Elariris has not yet been born; the current ruler is the tenth Eternal Queen.

At that moment, Istrana's duty was not to patrol and guard, but to act as a guide, clearing a path for a group. However, when her path was blocked by the mission, she naturally stopped and confronted them directly.

Before she could say more than a few words, Liv's attention was immediately drawn to the girl in Evelynn's arms—Ryana Silverstag.

Istrana noticed Liv's gaze and turned his attention to Schrinasto.

Ryana's condition was dire; she was severely injured, with a black dagger embedded in her chest, her blood staining the snow, and even her breathing was trembling as if she were suffocating.

The situation can be described as extremely dire, even to the point of being almost hopeless.

Evelynn, who was holding Ryana, was already showing signs of corruption. The dark power emanating from the girl in her arms seemed to be seeping outwards, corrupting everything around her.

Wherever it passed, the snow melted rapidly into black water, the ground became scorched and cracked, and the surrounding trees withered and died in an instant, their roots corroded by an evil aura. The power was visible to the naked eye, like a decaying, deadly wind, scattering the original purity of this snowy landscape.

Liv's heart sank. She knew that if she didn't do something soon, the elven girl whose soul was being devoured by dark forces would die completely, and even her soul would be corrupted.

So she immediately began treatment.

At the same time, a roar came from the sky.

Cecin-Hal and Springtwin took to the skies one after the other. Compared to Cecin-Hal, who carried the Twilight sisters, Springtwin was somewhat special, carrying Fenrir and the Avalon sisters...

A red dragon carrying Archmage Asur and the Avalon sisters into the sky to fight is something that no one could have imagined, something that defies common sense and tradition, but it actually happened.

Above the snow-covered forest, a giant red and black shadow took flight, its flames and snow mist intertwining, causing the entire forest to vibrate and hum.

The mastermind behind all of this was Darkus, who forcefully brought this incredible situation into reality.

Meanwhile, Istrana did not linger long; she led another group of the Avalon sisters back swiftly. Accompanying her was Shrinasto, who led a group of the Hoss Sword Saints.

The remaining Hoth Sword Saints stood silently and resolutely in formation, firmly protecting Liv and Ryanana in the center. Their figures were like cold stone statues, and the white mist from their breath seemed to be part of their defense, forming a frost barrier. Evelynn, also a Hoth Sword Saint, did not hesitate for a moment and immediately joined the ranks.

As Liv's magic gradually stabilized Rianna's breathing, temporarily pulling her out of the threat of death, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed again from the other side of the snow forest. The crisp sound of snow being crushed underfoot filled the air, and then another group of people came into view.

The leader is—Lylazel.

When she appears in the Kingdom of Ulthuan outside of the Kingdom of Avalon, she represents the will and supreme authority of the Eternal Queen.

When she stood within the borders of Avalon, her identity became even more acute and weighty. She was the head lady-in-waiting of the current, tenth Eternal Queen, Estrel, serving the Queen day and night, almost never leaving her side.

Her appearance possessed a contradictory allure; her long, black hair cascaded wildly beneath her helmet like a waterfall, and her narrow, amber eyes radiated a cold light, as if they could see through all appearances to the deepest darkness and secrets. That austere beauty, like the approaching twilight, concealed an unspeakable threat, chilling one to the bone.

But today, she was destined to be different. She had failed; her gaze had not pierced the darkness and secrets. That captivating brilliance had vanished, replaced by collapse and rage, by profound despair. For, lying on the stretcher carefully carried by the sisters of Avalon, lay the Eternal Queen—Estrel.

At this moment, without much discussion or negotiation, Liv didn't hesitate and immediately began a new round of treatment. Compared to Ryana, Estrel's condition was more critical; she also had a dagger embedded in her chest, but it was completely different from the previous one.

It was less a dagger and more a triangular, deep red iron blade, grotesque and bizarre, seemingly not of this world. Just by getting close, Liv could feel the blood of hundreds of lives clinging to the blade, the stench a nauseating, malevolent aura, the countless victims screaming in agony within its edge. Black smoke billowed from the blade against the Queen's chest, the smoke transforming into tentacle-like magical tendrils that slowly seeped from the wound, like dark serpents, relentlessly devouring everything the Queen possessed.

Liv's heart sank. She slowly knelt on the ground, taking a deep breath of the icy air to calm herself. Then, she suddenly reached out and grasped the iron blade. The cold was bone-chilling, as if it would freeze her very soul. She gritted her teeth and, with all her might, yanked the blade out. In an instant, a surge of darkness erupted, and the surrounding snow almost instantly turned into black mud.

Almost simultaneously, she placed her left hand on the Eternal Queen's chest, her warm palm covering her dying heart. She mobilized the Wind of Jiren, which surged in from all directions like countless rivers of light, drawing them in and continuously pouring them into the Eternal Queen's body.

Within the entire elven spellcaster hierarchy, Liv ranks among the top. At this moment, she also knows that the Eternal Queen is exceptionally severely injured; the iron blade piercing the Queen's chest, while of the same origin as the dagger embedded in Riana's body, is entirely of a different level.

If that iron blade had pierced not the Queen, but Rianna, she wouldn't have even had a chance to be saved. Rianna would have been completely dead long before the spell was cast, her soul becoming food for Slaanesh.

Thus, she found herself in a dilemma.

She arrived at the right time, yet at the wrong time.

It's not that I can't get it treated, but it's not that I can't get it treated either.

This had completely transcended the realm of normal medical treatment. Although the winds of Giron flowed continuously into the Eternal Queen's body like an endless tide, the wound on her chest showed no signs of healing. The dark power lingering within the Queen's body was stubborn and cunning, fiercely resisting the winds of Giron, and even showing a faint tendency to transform them into Deha.

Even more terrifying is that this darkness is not merely confined to the physical body, but is slowly seeping into the very core of the soul. It coils around like a venomous snake, corroding the soul of the Eternal Queen.

In other words, if nothing is done, the Eternal Queen will really die.

The soul will inevitably fall into the embrace of Slaanesh.

This is not a misfortune that can be escaped by luck, because there is no such thing as luck at this level. Once the soul perishes, the withering of the body is inevitable, and it will eventually become a source of corruption, which in turn will pollute this magical forest and even the whole of Ulthuan, spreading into an irreversible catastrophe.

At this moment, Liv's mind was in turmoil. Her thoughts were like fallen leaves fluttering in the wind, flashing through a series of faces and memories. She thought of Lilith, Aisha, Elsorloth, Ariel, Darkus, Eichriel, and even those unfathomable Sran priests. All the beings in her life who were connected to her destiny ran through her mind in that instant.

Once the chaos subsided slightly, she slowly raised her head and looked at the bewildered Lilazel. Originally, she wanted to seek Lilazel's opinion, hoping to find some affirmation or guidance in those eyes, but at this moment, Lilazel seemed to be swallowed up by fear and powerlessness as well, completely unable to give an answer.

Liv took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. She stood up, her steps steady and slow, yet carrying a resolute heaviness. She walked to the divination staff, her fingertips trembling slightly as she brushed it across the shaft, as if making a vow to some destiny in that instant.

When she returned to the Eternal Queen's side, the signs of corruption had spread further. Large swaths of snow were vaporized by the eerie heat, rising in a faint white mist; the ground was scorched and cracked, like scars from a raging fire. The surrounding trees withered and died instantly, their life force drained away, leaving only empty shells.

Liv stopped and glanced back at Lilazel. She gave Lilazel a calm, even somewhat reassuring smile, then turned her gaze to the Avalon sisters and the Sword Saint Hoth around them. Everyone looked tense, their breathing rapid, their weapons trembling slightly, yet they were all held back by some unknown fear, and did not immediately step forward.

Under all these gazes, Liv slowly raised her divination staff high.

In the next instant, she plunged the divination staff into the Eternal Queen's abdomen with a decisive and unstoppable resolve, imbued with the solemnity of an ancient ritual.

In an instant, even without a second eye, one could clearly feel a ripple spreading outwards from the Eternal Queen. Then, a powerful shockwave swept outwards, causing the air to tremble. The Avalon sisters and the Sword Saint of Hoss, who were utterly astonished and had been about to shout and try to do something, were all blasted away by the shockwave, their bodies tumbling and falling through the air like withered leaves.

When they staggered to their feet, the scene before them had changed. A visible, arc-shaped protective shield appeared, enveloping Liv and the Eternal Queen almost solidly. The barrier glowed with an emerald light, isolating them from everything, as if peeling them away from the world.

Liv ignored Lilazel's frantic pounding on the protective shield, and the shouts and anxieties from the outside world. Her eyes were closed, her face calm and focused, her hands gripping the staff tightly, completely immersed in the guiding process.

While on the coast, she discovered many interesting things and strange existences through the lies of the earth. These things made her vaguely uneasy, but they also gave her a kind of premonition.

And now...

Caught between life and death, between magic and reality, Estrel floated, as if cast into an endless sea of ​​pain. The pain had no shape, yet it surged forth like waves, dragging her toward the abyss. Her life was nearly exhausted; the power bound by the iron blade had been drained, leaving only scattered remnants to sustain her, while her soul, detached from her body, drifted in some desolate place.

No, this is not simply 'loneliness'.

Loneliness at least means that the self still exists, that there is still breath and tranquility, but the place she was in had no tranquility, only loss and nothingness.

Loneliness, ironically, became a blessing she desperately sought.

She heard a howl, echoing from afar, from the void, from beyond time. The howl was high-pitched and piercing, filled with an indescribable hunger, and it was drawing ever closer. She knew it was not a meaningless echo, but the hunting song of a predator. The wail was a harbinger of death; that sound symbolized the end.

She didn't know how much time had passed when she sensed a powerful presence struggling to support and heal her, maintaining the connection between her soul and flesh with an almost stubborn tenacity. She knew that flesh and soul were interdependent; if one weakened or withered, the other would inevitably wither as well. That sense of balance on the verge of collapse made her feel as if she could be torn apart into nothingness at any moment.

At the same time, she felt the howls growing louder, like sharks in the sea smelling blood. The continuous howls intertwined, spreading and echoing through the void, and she gradually realized that the entirety of Ulthuan was dying.

She saw a phantom-like flow of blood, and the sky stained red with the flames of war. War had once again descended upon her beloved country, and Duruci's inextinguishable hatred, accompanied by bloodshed and slaughter, returned once more to the homeland they had long abandoned. That sound was not just a cry for her, but a cry for the entire world.

The ancient era seemed like a legend to Estrel, yet to the slumbering power within her, it was but a fleeting moment. She had never truly been free; even before birth, the river of fate had chosen her—to inherit the throne of the Eternal Queen. She grew, was tempered, and shaped through countless years of learning and cultivation, until finally ascending the throne.

She still remembered the day of her coronation; the air was filled with fear and solemnity, and countless threads of fate intertwined around her. The altar shone like a raging fire, and the gazes upon her were as heavy as mountains. Although complex magical rituals had been prepared for her, no amount of training or rehearsal could allow her to truly withstand that overwhelming power.

The moment the crown touched her forehead, she was connected to the souls of the eternal queens of all time. In that instant, their memories surged forth, becoming her own. She felt countless sounds, images, pain, and glory rushing towards her, almost overwhelming her completely.

She almost lost herself.

The so-called "Eternal Queen" awakened in her heart, took over her soul, and carried that unchanging mission.

The voices of her mothers and grandmothers rose slowly within her heart, like waves crashing one after another, both loving and majestic, both gentle and irresistible. They welcomed her, called to her, and urged her to join the endless line of sisters. The maternal bloodline that had continued since ancient times bestowed upon her unwavering strength like a flame, enabling her to preserve her original 'self' even amidst the overwhelming force of the tide.

However, that great power is now a distant memory, cruelly severed by the cold darkness. She witnessed it with her own eyes as that radiance, like a sharp sword, cut off her connection to her soul and took away her glory.

She could sense that the immense power hadn't dissipated, but rather been cast into the chaotic void, wandering and churning in the darkness. Without a mortal body to bear it, it lost its direction, its focus, like a raging beast stripped of its shackles, struggling in vain. It was enraged beyond measure, and the word 'rage' wasn't even sufficient to describe the surging, turbulent, almost destructive fury. It was a violent storm, a collapsing mountain, a sweeping tsunami, and the thunder of ages crashing down upon the depths of her soul in a single instant.

Exhaustion was relentlessly engulfing her, not from her body, but from her very soul. The connection that bound her soul to her flesh was gradually loosening, like a delicate, fragile silk glove slowly slipping from her wrist. The feeling of slipping away terrified her, for she knew she was slowly drifting away from the mortal world, away from breath, away from warmth, away from the existence of all living beings.

The dark shadow approached from the void, its outline grotesque, its fangs bared, its claws outstretched. With a single, gentle strike, it could tear her remnant soul apart and devour it completely. She could even smell the overwhelming, sweet, metallic scent—the stench of death.

At this moment——

"Hold on, my daughter, your time in the mortal world is not yet over..."

It wasn't one voice, but countless overlapping voices, heavy as mountains, yet gentle as the wind. She knew them all; every voice calling her "daughter" was correct, without falsehood or deception. It was the call of blood, the continuation of motherhood.

A furious howl echoed, for the most delicious prey was being forcibly taken away.

Estrel gripped the fragile, almost broken connection even tighter, his fingertips seemingly able to feel the warmth of blood.

"I can't hold on any longer..." she whispered to herself, speaking to those voices, to those unseen mothers and grandmothers. The whisper was filled with despair, yet also with a last glimmer of hope.

“You can, you must, Ausuan still needs you…”

These voices were unified, as if from the same great will, yet each was unique. Every tone echoed in her heart, like countless stars shining together. They resounded simultaneously in countless corners of her mind, oppressing and tearing her apart, almost making her lose her way.

With so many lives and memories weighing on her heart, any weakling would utterly crumble and turn to dust the moment the crown fell upon her forehead. Only Estrel's powerful magical skills and years of relentless preparation allowed her to maintain her composure and avoid being torn apart into madness and fragments.

She grasped these voices, turning them into light that guided her back to her destiny. She yielded to that gentle yet firm guidance, allowing herself to be carried away from the ocean of nothingness.

The power then revived, little by little, like trickles of water converging into rivers.

The closer she got to that vast and mighty power, the more determined she felt in her heart, and the more she understood that she absolutely could not give up.

Finally, she touched the vast power that had been waiting for her since before she was born, and became completely one with it.

That immense power surged into her blood like a tidal wave, tearing her flesh to its limits, yet also reshaping her existence. Though her body was on the verge of death, the fragility of flesh and blood seemed insignificant before the Eternal Queen's healing and rebirth, like a grain of sand encountering a raging storm.

She understood that her return would be accompanied by excruciating pain, but she was already prepared to endure the agony and welcome back to the world of flesh and blood.

What the Sword Saint of Hoss and the Avalon sisters saw and felt was a scream that shook the heavens and earth and trembled the soul, as if even the air itself was shaking. Then Estrel suddenly opened his eyes.

Those eyes gleamed with an ancient yet intense light, a mixture of rage and the resolute determination of rebirth.

The wound on his chest healed, and the divination staff that had been inserted into his abdomen was forcefully pushed out by a powerful force.

Her body slowly sat up, every muscle and every blood vessel reawakened by the power of rebirth, like a surging wave after stagnant water, sweeping across the surroundings with an unstoppable aura of royalty. (End of Chapter)