Just being a dark elf in Warhammer

Chapter 500 351. Pretty good at choosing a place

Manfred sneered and roared, stretching his consciousness ruthlessly. He stuck out his tongue to taste the moist air. No matter how the seasons changed, the morning air in Altdorf was full of turbidity, mixed with smoke and dust and various strange flavors. The smell mixed with the damp mist that snaked through the streets, filling the city, and of course the sickening smell of eel, but soon he caught the sweet scent of Deha's energy.

This sweet smell is irresistible to Manfred. Although he is not a powerful mage yet, he can easily track this smell. His instinct is also driving him. Hunting is his nature, and this nature has been suppressed for too long. He always liked careful plans and careful preparations. He was a poisonous snake dormant in the darkness. He was not as rough and manic as Conrad. He thought Vlad was not as cautious as him.

Manfred jumped into the air. When he fell, his body twisted, his bones continued to break, and then continued to replenish, and the hard hair pierced his body like thousands of sharp knives. Wrap him in a cloud of blood mist. Transformation was a pleasant pain for him. The more painful it was, the more forms he could transform into. Although he was still very weak, the little strength he had just gained could still temporarily support him.

Four sharp claws landed on the cobblestone road, making a crisp sound, and then a black giant wolf disappeared into the fog of Altdorf in the early morning. The ordinary giant wolf could not run as fast as him, and its sharp claws left traces on the cobblestone road. There were deep scratches, and the crow's blood surged in his body. He jumped up high while the humans were not paying attention, and passed silently through the three ticket sellers who were yawning and preparing to change their defenses. When he jumped onto the bridge, Without attracting any attention, the man running on the bridge let out a low, joyful roar, and ran towards the other side of the bridge.

Manfred did not choose to jump into the Reik River. He thought it was stupid. This kind of plan was imprudent and poorly prepared. Once he was locked again while swimming, he would have no idea what to do. Bai's body was buried in the Reik River. His footsteps were steady and firm, just like a traveler. As he ran, he looked around with his peripheral vision. Although the fog was very dense, he could clearly feel that the Empire's footsteps were getting more and more staggering, and the blood was getting worse. It's getting thinner and thinner, without any change, just struggling to support it.

In Manfred's opinion, there is no essential difference between the Empire and zombies. Helping the Empire get rid of its pain is simply a kind of mercy. Thinking of this, he roared in pain. He knew that he would not be the one to launch the final blow to the Empire, but Vlad, when he thought of this, he was filled with resentment, and then his thoughts turned to the group of elves. He thought it was just an illusion yesterday evening, but... he was still careless.

Just as Manfred was thinking, he crossed the bridge. He saw the patterns spliced ​​together with bones and flesh, and instinctively let out a threatening roar. He flinched a little because he came to More's garden, even for him , the most sane and wise man in the entire Von Carstein family, he still felt uneasy stepping into Maul's domain. The existence of the Von Carstein family and those other vampires was a kind of evil to Maul. For blasphemy, Mor, like other gods, will retaliate.

"Island of Death?" Darkus ignored the ticket seller and guard who was stunned at the team. He looked at the other side of the bridge shrouded in fog and smiled jokingly. The last time he went to Dongcheng District, Stephen Franz I didn't take this bridge when I was in college, but took another bridge. This bridge is usually no one passes because it is Moore's cemetery.

Altdorf is a large city, filled with all kinds of people and classes. Class exists during life and of course after death. How can the nobles in Nancheng District be neighbors with the mud-legged people in the slums of Beicheng District, so the three districts in the southeast, north and south have their own cemeteries. In addition, there is the largest island in Altdorf on the Reik River between the North City District and the East City District. The residents of Altdorf affectionately call it the Island of Death.

The Isle of the Dead is a gloomy and ominous place with many black granite buildings, filled with shrines, mausoleums, ashes halls and believers' residences built for Moore. There are a few normal buildings on the south side of the island, which are usually There lived lawyers, undertakers and stonemasons, most of whom were followers of More, serving the living or the dead. No matter in which world it is, it is difficult for upright officials to settle family affairs. Lawyers serve the living and the estates of the dead. The same is true for the latter two groups of people. Funerals are for the dead and for the living.

Altdorf's Temple of Morr is located on the Isle of the Dead and is the largest stone building on the island. It is located next to the cemetery. Although the walls are plain, the buttresses feature gargoyles of all shapes and sizes, with ravens perched on their heads and wings. A tall bell tower points straight to the sky from the rear of the building. At dawn and dusk, the mourning knell will ring melodiously and deeply, reminding the residents of Altdorf that Moore is always there.

The Temple of Morr is always extremely busy, as corpses are constantly being produced in Altdorf, and funeral services are held every day, with the plain stone pews filled with mourners and clergy of Morr. On the Night of the Witches and the Night of the Dead, Mor's clergy will hold solemn masses in the temple, attracting large numbers of tourists carrying candles and black roses to commemorate the deceased.

In addition to the main temple, the temple has several connected buildings that serve as offices for the clergy and the headquarters of the Morhite Guard. Although the Morians mostly deal with the dead and stay away from politics, clergy are still obliged to attend sect meetings and discuss matters with other sects.

The Black Guard of Morr has something to say. Although the name of the Black Guard of Morr is somewhat similar to the name of the Black Guard of Nagarond, they are actually not the same thing. There is no official Temple Knights in the Moroccan sect, and the existence of the Black Guard is the Knights of the Moroccan sect. These gloomy and serious warriors shoulder a more serious responsibility, protecting the living and the dead from the undead. The endless malice of the Risen One. In most cases they are more defensive, protecting the temples and cemeteries of the empire as well as the sect's bishops.

Unlike most knights, the Mor's Blackguard are also trained in ranged weapons to prevent their enemies from attacking at close range. This, combined with their ominous obsidian armor and strict oath of silence while on duty, means that most knights are reluctant to come into contact with them, but this is the price of their duty. Because of their characteristics, both friendly forces and enemies feel fear and fear, but that being said, the vampires see them more as giving experience. Their obsidian armor and vows of silence make their presence unsettling, and many meddlers whisper that they are actually immortal souls bound by priests in the rituals of Morr.

To outsiders, it may seem as if the Black Guard of Morr has been guarding Morr's temple day and night and never rests, but in fact this is not the case. Their sentry is divided into three rounds, but because there seems to be no essential difference between each black guard and the shifter, outsiders cannot detect it at all.

The leader of the Maul Black Guard patrolling the cemetery at the moment is the notorious Arthur Weitz. He is a pale and serious warrior, known as the "White Knight" because of his pale complexion. In addition to his mission In addition to patrolling, they also need to hunt down those beings crawling out of the tombs.

The ringing of the mourning knell means the emergence of dawn and the coming of a new day. Life is endless and the cycle continues. Wherever Darkus looked, apart from the fog and the buildings belonging to Moore, the most attractive thing to him was the black roses belonging to Moore. It was already almost winter, and there were still flowers in bloom that could only be described as... It's a bit unusual... Before the Magic Academy appeared, the Isle of Death had the most sandy winds.

A soft lament floats in the air, accompanied by the crow of crows and the splash of water. Darkus had an illusion that the black rose facing him seemed to be welcoming him. The black rose seemed to exude a sweet breath. He closed his eyes and couldn't help but take a deep breath, and then took a big mouthful under the surprised eyes of the surrounding elves. coughing. He smelled no fragrance, but the stench of eels mixed with the rotting stench of tombs.

"You're really good at choosing a place for yourself."

Darkus ignored the looks of the elves around him and continued to walk on his own. He was a strong man, and a strong man went his own way, and did not need to care about other people's eyes. At least that's what he thought. He thought that the place Manfred chose for himself was very good, very good. The vampire died in More's garden. How sacrilegious and black humor it was. He is now very sure that the existence he is chasing is Man Bald, a man of loyalty and filial piety.

The cursed land of Sylvania has given birth to many evil creatures, but none as cunning as Manfred von Carstein. If Vlad von Carstein is the strongest of the vampire counts and Conrad is the most bloodthirsty, then Manfred is undoubtedly the most cunning. During the Vampire Count Wars, while his predecessors attempted to conquer the Empire, Manfred fell behind, hiding in the shadows and observing the world, manipulating his peers through magic and subterfuge.

And then... the story is so long that it's too long to write down.

Darkus feels that this is also a kind of irony and black humor. Perhaps when he returns to Naggaroth and Malekith asks him what is the biggest gain in Elsin Alvin, he can be proud of it. He puffed up his chest and shouted in response to Malekith: I killed Manfred von Carstein! I have made an outstanding contribution to this world! The result was certainly no surprise. Although Malekith was wearing a midnight mask and could not see the expression on his burned face, Malekith would definitely look at him with a question mark on his face.

Who was Manfred von Carstein? How did you make an outstanding contribution to the world? These problems are not something that Malekith can understand now. Thinking about this, Darkus's laughter echoed in the air. If you don't return home with wealth and wealth, it's like walking at night in brocade clothes. If you can't pretend to be sexy, it's like walking in brocade clothes at night. He couldn't tell Manfred's story to the companions around him. The first vampire war was just now, and it was Vlad's stage. The elves didn't even know who Vlad was. When he told his companions the story of Manfred, he was a little too arrogant.

Darkus can't tell his companions what happened to the Ty brothers, Belanaar, Alarielle, and Elsharion five hundred years later because of what Manfred did. This can no longer be done. To describe it as a magic stick, this guy is simply a prophet! Although there seems to be no difference between the two? And this is different from the first time he saw Liv. First of all, Liv is an elf, and secondly, he is a fortune teller. In the eyes of his companions, Liv has some kind of relationship with Morayig and Lilith. His companions knew more or less about his relationship with Moraygo and Lilith.

"Finished? Stupid name!"

An inn called The End of the Coffin appeared in front of Manfred. This inn mainly provided services to members of the More Church. Although the More Church usually dealt with the dead, the members of the church were all living people, just like Just like the employees of the crematorium, they also have their own families, joys, sorrows, and emotions. Occasionally, a group of drunken mourners would appear at the inn, but the sombre and quiet atmosphere would soon drive them away. All in all a clean and reasonable hotel for dining and resting. The menu is pretty standard, with enough food to fill your stomach and quench your thirst.

There was a crow on the signboard of the hotel. When the wind blew, Manfred heard the creaking sound of the signboard, just like the crow of a crow. He had a vague illusion that the eyes of the crow painted on the signboard were watching him. , the look in his eyes seemed to be looking at an idiot. After scolding in a low voice, he quickened his pace and quickly left the door of the hotel, trying to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling. The cobblestones in the street crunched beneath his feet, echoing the inn's sign.

Manfred wanted to escape from those seemingly spiritual eyes, but every step he took made him feel as if he was being watched by the sign. After he turned a corner, he found himself walking into a narrow alley. The light here was dim, and the walls were mottled with graffiti and covered with things related to More. He felt a chill, as if an invisible gaze was watching him. , he seemed to have come here by mistake. He tried to tell himself that this was just a ridiculous idea, but the illusion became stronger and stronger.

Manfred, squatting next to the low wall, carefully sniffed the air in the cemetery. The Morr Garden was filled with the smell of Deha energy and Shash wind, like rotten apples. After thinking for a moment, he jumped over the low wall and walked away. Entering the cemetery, the mist snaked around him like a snake, and a cold mist filled the space between the cemetery and the tombstones. He returned to his human form, waved his hand to disperse the wind of magic, and walked in the opposite direction of the chapel. He could feel the flames of faith in Moor's Garden flickering inside, and he was exactly what he hated.

But Manfred did not hate the energy of Deha and the wind of Shash that filled the Morr Garden. He believed that this environment was beneficial to him. He knew that the group of elves had been hanging behind him, and he was like a man who could never escape. Prey, and this feeling is what he hates. He walks following the smell of blood. He wants to make full use of the environment here, deal with hunters, and wait for an opportunity to truly escape.

While Manfred was strolling and thinking, the surrounding fog suddenly dissipated. He felt an invisible pressure coming from the chapel in the distance. A vague figure was kneeling in front of More's shrine, with a low voice. Praying loudly, those syllables were like heavy hammers hitting his chest. He wanted to roar, but he controlled himself. He knew that he could not be held back now.

However, some things were not just what Manfred wanted to do. Just as he was about to leave, the figure in front of the shrine stood up, looked in the direction where he was, and then let out a loud shout.

"This is an illusion, what are you hiding!"

"White Knight" Arthur Weitz was about to change his defense. As usual, he took advantage of this gap to pray to Moore, whom he served. But what was different from usual was that Moore actually responded to him and received Moir. Moir's revelation prompted him to turn his head and stand up to look at where Manfred was. He could clearly sense that just as Moir had revealed, the light there had refracted and something was dormant in the shadows.

Before Arthur could shout again, the angry Manfred rushed towards him. He could see the refracted light swaying continuously. He raised the two-handed sword standing beside him and gave way. Half of the body is positioned so that the reflected light can directly face More's flame. Manfred, who quickly approached, stretched out his claws and opened his fangs to pounce on him. Under the illumination of Maul's flame, he could be very sure that something was indeed approaching him. He relied on his training experience and fighting instinct to swing his two-handed sword.

Manfred looked at the sword that could be split in half and chose to twist his body to avoid this fatal blow. After dodging, he rushed forward again. He didn't recognize the Morr Black Guards in front of him, but he had fought with the Morr Black Guards before. The entire empire was full of Morr Black Guards. He thought that the Morr Black Guards emanated from them. An unbearable stench.

The great sword grazed Manfred's neck again, and the cold flames on the blade made his skin twitch. He knew he was burned. He ducked sideways, and at the same time stabbed the Maul Black Guard with his claws. The neck protector and his sword are just ordinary swords. At the critical moment, he trusts his claws more.

Arthur was unable to dodge in the face of this sharp attack, and his claws hit his neck guard hard, suffocating his breath. Then he fell heavily, and his throat guard was hit by the blow just now. It had been severely deformed, and he felt like he couldn't breathe. At this time, he saw the figure striding towards him.

The big sword fell not far from Arthur. He held his breath and tried to pick up the big sword, but the figure was faster than him. The moment his body kicked the big sword away, the figure let out a painful scream. The flames on the sword burned the figure. Watching all this, he tried to stand up. He was already vaguely aware of the existence of the figure. His strong will and faith in Moore supported him.

Manfred admired the tenacity of the More Black Guards, but that was all. He rushed forward, lifted Arthur's helmet, and saw Arthur's pale face. After taking a look, Grabbing Arthur's skull, he resisted the urge to crush Arthur's skull like an egg. He looked at Arthur with wide eyes, and his will pierced Arthur's brain like a sharp blade, making him unable to breathe. Arthur kept struggling, and blood flowed from Arthur's seven orifices.

"This is you...regaining...calm..." Arthur's lips moved, and the sound came out from his Adam's apple that was stuck by the gorget.

After hearing the words of the More Black Guard, Manfred's inner anger continued to intensify. His fingers slowly tightened, and then he cut off Arthur's spine cleanly, tearing off Arthur's head and spine. Holding Arthur's head in both hands. He knew that he was too late. The wind of Shasu gathered around him and poured into Arthur's head along the seven orifices. He was not a great mage. It was not easy to do this, especially for Mor's servants.

Maul guards the souls of his servants, protecting them from the ravages of necromancy.

But this situation is not absolute. If Manfred works hard, he can transform the Maur Black Guard in front of him into a being driven by him. He does not need the existence in front of him to help him resist the upcoming pursuers. He will More magic was injected into Arthur's soul, using savage power to dispel the defensive force attached to Arthur's soul. This process consumed too much of his energy, and he felt that his previously weak limbs were shrinking again. He tried his best to inject more magical wind into Arthur's body.

However, Manfred ignores the fact that this is Morr's garden, and he is standing in front of Morr's flames. Moore was angered by his actions. The flames that had been extinguished at any time glowed with unusual vitality at this moment, like ignited anger. He felt that the atmosphere around him had become strange, and he stopped and looked around alertly. Suddenly, the originally gentle flame suddenly ignited into a raging fire, forming a whirlpool-like force. This flame did not rise upwards, but rolled towards him violently.

A flash of astonishment flashed in Manfred's eyes. He dropped the head of Mor's Black Guard and hurriedly avoided it. He knew that he couldn't be touched by the flames. If he was touched by the flames again, he would...before he could. Then he thought about it, and the flame in front of him seemed to have some kind of magic power, following his figure closely. The flames were unpredictable, as if they had a self-awareness, chasing him and enveloping him in icy flames.

Manfred waved his hands in an attempt to disperse the flames. However, every time his palms came into contact with the flames, they were accompanied by a violent burning sensation. He instantly felt the heat of the flame burning his skin, as if his hands were also set on fire. He let out a groan of pain, his face contorted in agony. The fire's counterattack is not only physical torture, but also torture deep in the soul. Every swing was like being tested by the fire of hell, and the pain stung his nerves deeply.

The robe burned instantly under the flames, and a plume of black smoke rose up, while the pain on Manfred's body reached an unbearable limit. He was burned twice in a short period of time, and this time the burning seemed to have some kind of power. The flame that had been extinguished before was ignited again. His body and soul were burned by the double flame, and he roared in pain.

The smoke in Moor Garden gradually filled up, and as it filled up, a crow circled in the sky, watching everything that happened below with cold eyes. This crow seems to be no ordinary bird. Its eyes reveal a kind of extraordinary wisdom, as if it can understand all mysteries. The crow's wings flew across the air and landed gently on a tombstone, continuing to stare at Manfred in the flames.

In the crow's indifferent eyes, there seemed to be a trace of annoyance. He made a series of low murmurs, as if talking to himself. He felt Manfred's stupidity, and he felt that Manfred's decision triggered a Irreversible change...

"The coffin is closed? What a magical name!"

I thought this chapter was quite humorous...