Just being a dark elf in Warhammer

A chill hit him, and Darkus felt like he was standing on the edge of a huge crack. The shadow was twisting in the pale twilight, and a huge head turned around and looked at him.

"I... saw... you..."

The world slowed down, and the din of war gradually faded away, leaving only a low roar. The square trembled beneath his feet, as if some gigantic figure was approaching him every moment. He shook his head, trying to get rid of the non-existent footsteps.

"I... saw... you..."

"See me? What did you see me? If you can, claim me. I won't run away from you. Come on!" Darkus hissed.

As time passed, the sounds of battle began again, filling the unnatural silence. More beasts than before poured into the square, roaring eagerly. A sinister smile appeared on Darkus' face. This was the slaughter he longed for. There was no better enemy than the orcs. Orcs know the joy of fighting and are not afraid of the sharpness of weapons. Orcs are very powerful, and they can vent their current anger just right.

He rushed towards the orcs. He bumped into an orc and enjoyed the joy of the collision. Although the physical rules here were a bit unreliable, they still existed. Wearing dragon armor, he knocked the orc to the ground. The orc tried to drive the blade into his shoulder, but his wrist was severed by his sweep. The orc didn't whine or slow down, reaching for the other blade hanging on his belt, but he was faster than the orc, and the orc's head flew out.

"I'm thinking, I'm going to chop you to death!" A huge orc broke through the fog curtain, with a smile on his brown face and roared over. Soon he was hit by an arrow in the eye socket, but the arrow did not take away his life. Instead, it made him even more violent. He waved the double-headed ax and spun around in a circle.

Then there was nothing more. The big shield in Grok's hand blocked the whirlwind, and then the big stick in his hand hit the big orc on the head.

"Good head!" Darkus, who had hacked another orc to death, looked over and shouted after hearing the crisp sound of bone cracking.

There are many orcs, like a brown ocean, like a tide, endless. Maybe they have high combat effectiveness, but it depends on who they fight. The defense line formed by elves, red dragons and lizardmen is like a sea wall, blocking the orcs' attack.

Darkus directly took the sword with his bare hands. His left hand grabbed the blade that the orc was slashing at. He could see the surprised expression on the orc's face as he lost control of the weapon. After giving the orc a friendly smile, he directly pulled the weapon over and slashed the orc in the face with the divine sword. The orc staggered, lost his balance, and fell to the ground.

Malok roared and drove his sword into the orc's belly, the rough metal bending and cracking as the blade pierced the brown flesh. The orc howled and tried to catch him with his claws. He was angered by the orc's behavior, and red fireworks flashed in his eyes. He gave up the sword that was useless to him, grabbed the orc's arms tightly, and then With his roar, the orc's two hands separated from his body.

The orc's body fell heavily to the ground, but his suffering was far from over. Maloch bent down and ran his fingers through the rough skin of his back. Then, an indescribable piercing sound resounded across the battlefield. It was a mixture of bone cracks and muscle tearing, as if a thick tree trunk had been broken in a storm. He let out a scream, and then fell silent. Maloch's palm grasped the spine that was forcibly pulled out.

Maloch stood up, the bloody spine in his hand like a long whip, carrying frightening power. He waved his spine casually, and the whip-like spine swung in his hands. His movements had no grace at all, but were full of primitive violence and cruelty. After all, he was so powerful.

The back end of the spine hit the face of an overcoming orc. The huge force caused the spine to make a heart-breaking cracking sound under the impact. At the same time, the hit orc seemed to be crushed by an invisible force, and was directly He fell down, his face was sunken and his flesh and blood were blurred.

Not far away, the elves lined up neatly, executing each swing of their swords and halberds gracefully and fatally. Their movements were like a carefully choreographed dance, and killing became an indescribable art in their hands. Their movements were coherent and rapid, as if they were enjoying this bloody performance. Gradually, the mountain of corpses accumulated by the orcs became their natural defenses, a barrier built of flesh, flesh and bones, blocking more and more people. of enemies.

The lizard people on the battlefield are like cold-blooded machines, showing frightening efficiency and cruelty in killing. Each of their strikes is precise, and their targets are always torn, pierced, or shattered in an instant. They act as the fulcrum and control the situation on the battlefield. Ku Jia is like a god of war, and every attack he makes carries a suffocating sense of power and oppression.

His foes scattered around him like water, and the orcs were unable to confront the terrifying warrior. He waved the spear in his hand, and each blow was like the end of a storm, tearing the enemy in half with devastating power. The orcs who tried to get closer were helpless in front of him.

Without the blessing of magic, and almost no arrows were shot, the team composed of elves, red dragons and lizardmen was like a raging tide, wildly rushing towards the enemy. Every swing of the sword and every tearing of the claws were venting the anger and panic in their hearts. This battle is no longer for victory, but for the release of inner depression, for the purest killing and release.

The spellcasters had long since given up the complicated spells. They drew their melee weapons and wielded them wantonly among the enemies. Each blow was accompanied by splashes of blood, as if only in the collision of flesh and blood could they find a moment of peace.

On the battlefield, the shouts grew louder and louder, and the angry roars echoed in the air, almost covering up the sound of the battle. Suddenly, a large number of lizardmen rushed out from behind the orcs, like ghosts in the dark. Their appearance put the orcs in a desperate situation. The square turned into a huge slaughterhouse, and the orcs were forced to retreat one place after another, but no matter how they struggled, they could not escape this deadly siege.

The arrival of reinforcements made the battle between the elves, red dragons and lizardmen even wilder. They no longer needed to defend. Every blow they made was an attack, and they slashed at the orcs' vital points frantically. The frenzy of the battle burned in everyone's eyes until the last orc fell, and only the corpses and blood on the ground were left in the square.

This was the second battle since Ryan disappeared. The team walked carefully on the street, smashing every piece of glass they could see, and kept circling the same circle on the repeated streets until they came to this square.

Daxus shook off the non-existent blood on the sword and looked at the lizardmen who suddenly appeared cautiously. He was a little confused. He couldn't understand why lizardmen appeared here. And... it was strange. The lizardmen he saw were normal, but very strange.

Under normal circumstances, it was like a bunch of Nikos standing in front of him. If you look at them suddenly, these Nikos look the same, at most matte black and matte black. But in actual identification, these Nikos can be specifically distinguished, especially those who are engaged in trade and plantation managers, who are all experts in this area.

And he is also an expert in identifying lizardmen, but the problem is that these lizardmen really look the same, as if they were copied and pasted. Soon he thought of an extremely unreliable possibility.

"I'm Umak." He made a brief self-introduction.

"Umaq? You..." A Skin Priest walked out of the Lizardmen team, hissing and clacking while tilting his head, the color of his crown constantly changing.

Daxus could see suspicion in the eyes of the Skin Priest, and then he saw the Skin Priest's eyes move, looking behind him, his eyes changed from low to high, from suspicion to awe.

"My name is Orichi, No. 2..." Orichi introduced himself after performing a courtesy that represented respect and recognition in the Lizardmen society. At the end, he sighed, turned around and made a gesture similar to "please", "Follow me."

Daxus did not move immediately, but turned his head to look at Shakspati. When he saw the Slann Demon Priest nodding his head, he was relieved. At least this Orichi No. 2 was real, not an illusion, or some kind of conspiracy or scam.

The team moved, walked out of the square, and entered the dimly lit street maze. Will-o'-the-wisps danced in the cold mist, casting a soft, sickly green light on everything.

"They're watching us," Dakwus muttered casually as he walked side by side with Oric No. 2. The second battle was with orcs, and the first was... a group of terrifying monsters. He could feel those eyes staring at his back.

He glanced warily at the strange and intertwined roofs of the causeway above. He could see outlines moving intermittently on it. He could hear bells in the distance and soft crying coming from nearby. He looked around for the source of the sound, but saw nothing. The shadows here were deep.

"It's not easy to watch meat slip from within reach." Oric didn't look up, and after pushing a piece of glass away with the bottom of his staff, he muttered.

"Are we meat?" Dakwus was amused by Oric's words, and he asked back with a smile.

"Respected Umak, we are all meat, we'd better get used to it." Oric looked up and glanced at Dakwus.

"You ask first, or should I?" Daxus didn't want to dwell too much on the issue of meat. He wanted to know the information he was most concerned about at the moment.

"I will tell you everything I know..."

"Where are you from?" Daxus began to check the household registration book.

"Zahhuitak."

"Do you remember when it was?"

"I forgot... but I remember what happened at that time." Oriqi didn't even think about it, shook his head and answered, and then continued to narrate, "The barrier was broken by some force, a crack appeared in the square, demons... many demons rushed out of the crack, my companions died for protecting the Slann Demon Priest, and I... didn't die, Azuma and Lord Talanquin opened the teleportation, and then we came here."

Daxus looked at Oriqi. The information density of Oriqi's words was too high, and some of the content did not match what he knew. As far as he knew, after Carlos opened the crack, the lizardmen who defended Zahuitak at that time were all killed, and Zahuitak became the first city to fall on the Lustria continent.

The Azuma and Lord Talanquin mentioned in Oriqi's words were undoubtedly the Slann Magic Priests, which means that the two Slann Magic Priests activated the teleportation at the last moment, and the recorded events did not happen. But in fact, it seems that there is no difference. There is not much difference between being teleported here and being killed. This is the difference between missing and being killed in a naval battle.

Moreover, under normal circumstances, a society without the leadership of the Slann Magic Priests would collapse. The skin lizards, lizardmen and giant lizards on Dragon Island that have degenerated into beasts are the best examples. But the lizardmen living in this ghost place seem to have none? He can see that the skin lizards and lizardmen are still in order, which means that the two Slann Magic Priests should still be alive? Surviving in some way, guiding the lizardmen.

"Where is this place?" After thinking for a moment, Dacus asked the question he was most concerned about.

"You seem to have asked this question?" Oliqi did not answer immediately, but was stunned for a moment.

"No! If I can, I will keep asking until I get a reasonable answer." While saying this, Dacus looked around. At this time, the city has changed again. It is no longer the city he knows. On the contrary, it seems to be many cities, colliding and twisting with each other, like a reflection in a reflection, extending in all directions at the same time.

"I... I can't answer this question, you should ask the two lords. In addition, please keep a low profile. The sound here is very strange. We should not attract more attention than now." When Oliqi said the second half, he licked his lips with his fingers.

Dacus frowned, but nodded.

The mist gradually thinned, as if it seeped out from every crack in the stone, and then dissipated as if brushed away by an invisible hand. His vision became clear, but the clarity did not bring any comfort.

On the contrary, as the mist dissipated, the surrounding scene became more unsettling. The streets twisted under his feet, as if controlled by some unknown force, climbing upwards or suddenly falling into an abyss with countless flashes of light. Those flashes were not stars, but something that he could not grasp.

Everything was trembling, as if everything was constantly moving, and a large number of statues stared at each other from the top of the pedestal or in the high niches. He recognized some of the statues because he had seen them in the ruins of the city, but these statues were not intact, but damaged in different ways. Some had hideous faces, some had broken limbs, and some were torn and incomplete by invisible forces.

On the dark boulevard, the glass curtain walls stretched into the distance, and behind the few intact curtain walls, something pale was moving. He couldn't see clearly, nor did he want to. The air was still and cold, smelling stale, and the streets were paved with broken bones and rocks, uneven.

Thick dust, or sand, clung to the undisturbed corners, as if it had been sprinkled from above or risen from below. In these dark corners, twisted figures huddled together, whispering softly to objects in the glass curtain walls. He could hear the sound of water spilling over the stone, but he couldn't see it.

Mirrors were everywhere, flat or curved, round or square, they occupied niches in the walls or hung under arches. Some were placed in the hands of statues or hung on columns, some mirrors were covered with dust and dirt, while others seemed to have been recently wiped clean.

"Don't look at them, don't look at them if you value your soul."

"I know, I'm not a fool."

"You are here, aren't you? You are either a fool or a wretch, which one?" This time, respect disappeared from Oliqi's words.

Dacus did not answer. In front of him, the street had widened into a wide avenue, with damaged statues on both sides.

"It is not suitable to stop here. There are hot-blooded people and the orcs we just killed."

"Are they not dead?"

"Nothing will die here, and nothing can escape." Oliqi lowered his voice and said softly.

"Is this why you are called No. 2?" Dacus, who thought of something, also lowered his voice and said.

"Yes, my head fell off once, chopped off by an axe, but I'm still standing here." Oriqi tapped his neck with two fingers, and then continued, "As Umak, although I don't know why you are like this... You should know that death is death, but I didn't. I woke up, complete, and sound. Every moment of my death is engraved in my memory.

Pain, the scene of my body falling backwards, everything, there is no death here. Hot-blooded people will not die, and we will not die... In the process of my death and resurrection, another me appeared and replaced me. Another one has the same body and memory as me. He became the servant of the lords, and I..."

Darkus did not interrupt while Oriqi was talking, but kept listening. He now understood the previous confusion. As a skin lizard priest, Oriqi is a combatant, but not like a lizard man. It seems that there are more than two lizard men walking in front, maybe there are ten.

"Stop, keep those hot-bloods quiet!" When the team reached a foggy intersection, Orić, who was still talking, suddenly stopped. He looked around vigilantly and said softly.

Dakuus originally wanted to ask what happened in the process from death to resurrection, but Orić's behavior interrupted him. He didn't waste precious time like a fool at this time, asking questions, asking what was there, why you were so panicked, and other nonsense. He just raised his arm and made a gesture to stay still and keep quiet.

Somehow, the air became colder, and unnatural frost crawled over his armor, and his breath turned into thick white curls.

"Be quiet and listen."

The sound was faint at first, like the humming of some instrument, and singing, which was not a language that Dacus could recognize. He looked to the left and saw vague figures playing in the fog.

The movements of the figures were clumsy, stiff and incoherent, and the glass glittered and reflected light from somewhere. As the figures approached, he saw at least twenty people, all of them in tatters, wearing rags and leather masks. Some of them played strange flutes or beat tambourines with gusto, and the singers seemed to have reached the limit of their voices, and their voices fluctuated.

In front of them walked a tall figure, wearing the tattered remains of a gorgeous robe and a gorgeous headdress made of tarnished gold and glass. The leading figure screamed with the others, and from time to time he chopped himself with what looked like a branch. The others occasionally huddled together, and the leading figure would obediently hit them and tear pieces of rotten flesh from their limbs.

“What a fucking fantasy version of the Night Parade of One Hundred Demons.” Daxus stared at the terrifying procession, watching it stumble past and away from his own group.

“Come on, come on,” Orić said eagerly as the last trembling celebrant disappeared into the mist.

The procession continued to move forward, faster than before. Most of the beings in the procession kept looking back as they hurried. Around them, the entire city seemed tense and angry, as if disturbed by their progress.

As the procession continued to move forward, Daxus caught a glimpse of movement, perhaps the hurried figures of relatively normal creatures, appearing and disappearing quickly. Some people held flickering torches and climbed up the winding steps to the dark heights of the city. Some people drew water from the dilapidated cisterns scattered in the small dead-end alleys.

There was life here, but this thought brought no comfort to Daxus. Everything exuded the smell of death and decay, like an old tomb that had been opened. Huge phosphorescent shapes were crawling in the nearby ruins, which reminded him of maggots crawling in wounds, and things that might have been bats were flying around overhead, and sharp cries were like the cry of a child.

He glanced at Oliqi, who was walking beside him, and he found that Oliqi didn't seem to be bothered by all this. How long had Oliqi been here? This kind of thing was already commonplace?

"We're here." Oliqi said suddenly after walking for a while.

Daxus looked around. The avenue intersected with an octagonal square, and at the other end of the square was a large terraced building with an immature design. It was mainly dark gray, but in some places he could see faded patches of what was once a deep red, as if a gust of wind had blown away the original color.

Where there might have been city walls, there were now only jagged ruins, but he could see that some powerful existence had tried to reinforce the largest gaps with loose rubble. Compared to this gap, the rest is fine. A huge door blocks the archway, and there are two doors made of some dull metal in the archway, which are now rusted.

"Where is this? What is this place?"

"Welcome to the Jade Palace, which is our home away from home, and now your home too." Orchi replied. (End of this chapter)