Warhammer: Dark Elf

Temporary military camp outside the city of Shilazo-Thar.

Morathi sent several of her fear lords and sorceresses to lead their respective armies to siege the city of Thar.

Now that the entire city of Tal has become Morathi's prize, she will not let the slaves inside run away.

The setting sun in the sky of Naggaroth is like blood, and the chaotic and corrupted land is littered with corpses and flags fluttering.

Smelling the strong smell of blood, a group of crows gathered and settled among the branches of the trees. Their scarlet eyes greedily stared at the broken limbs on the battlefield, and they flapped their wings restlessly.

If it weren't for the intimidation of the dark elves cleaning the battlefield, this group of greedy beasts would have swarmed over them long ago.

Hemo, who was in a nervous mood, carried a repeating crossbow and a shield, followed the Kane assassin named Sabios, walked through the tents, and walked towards the most luxurious military tent in the camp.

"Aunt Mo actually wants to see me..." Hemo guessed that killing Martigues would definitely attract Morathi's attention, but he still felt uneasy at the thought of meeting this powerful sorceress.

While marching, Helmer noticed that a large number of prisoners of the Neros army were detained by soldiers. They were stripped of their armor, put on shackles, and forced to kneel in the middle camp of Morathi.

The cold wind in the north was sharper than a knife, and it hurt people's faces. The prisoners' faces were pale and bloodless, and their eyes were empty and lifeless.

Behind them stood a row of Hal?6?1 Ganxi executioners holding huge swords. These cold and ruthless butchers were responsible for executing prisoners. They were surrounded by a strong murderous aura. Even ordinary dark elves would not dare to do so. near.

"Brother Sabios, what are they doing?" Hemer seemed to have guessed something when he saw this scene, and still wanted to confirm.

The expressionless Sabios turned around, with a surprised look under his hood, "Are you kidding?"

"Of course they will sacrifice their lives to Kane in exchange for God's blessing for our army. The master does not need more slaves now."

"Sure enough...", Helmer forced a smile, and at the same time felt chilled by the cruelty of the dark elves. In Druchi's society where the strong are respected and the weak bleed for blood, slaves are the most miserable class, and even the dark elves of the same race will not show any mercy.

Helmer asked himself that he could not be so cold-blooded, but now was not the time to be conceited. He has to plan for his future.

Warhammer is not a peaceful world. All kinds of monsters and monsters run rampant, and ordinary people may die suddenly just by going out.

At first, Helmer thought that it would be great if he traveled to the Sigma Empire or the Kingdom of Bretonnia, which was dominated by humans. But then I thought about it carefully, and it was not easy to travel to the empire.

Although the Sigma Empire is strong, it has many enemies. At the same time, it has to face the invasion of greenskins, ratmen, vampires and chaos demons. It is okay to live in the big city where the elector is located, as long as you are careful not to be suddenly drilled out of the underground tunnels. Just kill the ratmen.

If you were born in the countryside, you would be in trouble. Just the waaagh invasion launched by the green skins can make people and dogs restless, and the terrifying vampires and beastmen wandering in the forest are as terrifying as nightmares.

As for the Kingdom of Bretonnia, this one is even more of a loser. The entire kingdom advocates chivalry. It would be okay if Hemo could get a knighthood, but he would be afraid of looking like an old farmer at the bottom.

As we all know, the old farmers in Baator have no human rights. Not only do they have to worry about the greenskins who will plunder them, they also have to pay extremely harsh taxes to their grandfathers.

Nine out of ten taxes! The capitalists cried when they heard this.

So Humer thought, except for traveling to the Great Cathay Celestial Kingdom, any place he traveled to would be worse.

"Let's go! The captain is done."

After figuring it out, Helmer slowly accepted the reality that he was a dark elf.

"It would be great if Morathi could give me a territory for this meritorious service, even in the village!"

Hemo didn't want to lose his life unexplainedly on the battlefield one day. The best way out for him now was to have a territory of his own and slowly live in peace.

As for the invasion of chaos and the destruction of the world?

I haven't been able to touch this level yet, so no matter how much I think about it, it's just unfounded worries.

Unknowingly, Helmer entered Morathi's military tent under the leadership of Sabios.

It has to be said that Aunt Mo is really good-looking, with typical white skin, beauty, and plump figure. After a long time of baptism, she has gained a mature charm.

In addition, Morathi also believed in Slaanesh and took the lead in carrying forward the fine tradition of the Druchi sorceresses who shuttled and exposed themselves, showing off their proud curves. Especially a pair of slender and slender legs that overlap randomly, their muscles are like jade, shining with a gleaming luster.

Her charming eyes are so captivating that no one can hold them back.

"No wonder the first Phoenix King of the High Elves would marry her. Even if Kane came down to earth, he would have to set up a small tent first. It looks many times better than in the game."

Helmer said this about Morathi.

At this moment, Morathi was sitting lazily on the high-backed throne, with two young sorceresses on her left and right rubbing her shoulders and legs.

"So you are the civilian who killed Martigos. Stand closer and let me take a good look." Morathi exhaled like a blue, and just a few words made all the men in the tent blush.

The taciturn and cool-looking Sabios is no exception.

However, no one here dared to show a blasphemous look at Morathi. Not to mention her own super strength, her identity can also make people breathless.

She is the biological mother of the Witch King Malekith, the de facto queen mother of the dark elves, and her status is inferior to that of one person and superior to that of millions.

Idiots who dared to peek at Morathi's beauty have been stunned by this deadly flower of the other side.

The kind that doesn’t have any ashes left.

"Although beauty is good, just take a look. After all, the word "sex" has a knife in your head."

Face to face with the legendary lord was quite stressful, so Hemo didn't dare to neglect him. He took a few steps forward and stood still, while his clenched palms couldn't stop sweating.

"Head up."

Helmer raised his head slightly stiffly and looked at Morathi with incomparable awe and innocence, fearing that the slightest flaw would be revealed.

Morathi looked at Helmer with a pair of slightly narrowed eyes, and then smiled, "Are you afraid of me? No need to be, I'm not a monster. Remember, don't reveal your fear in front of your Phoenix Queen, otherwise... "

Morathi's words suddenly stopped, and then there were noisy cheers, heart-rending wails, and clicking sounds like wood being chopped from outside the tent.

Hermer's heartbeat quickened, and cold sweat rolled quietly from the hair on his temples.

You don't need to guess, the executioners outside Hal?6?1 Gangxi began to execute the prisoners.

Morathi's tapping was done. Hemo didn't want to offend this uncertain boss, so he tried to calm down his uneasy mood, slowly calmed down, and looked into Morathi's straw-yellow pupils.

"How cute. I thought the civilian who killed Martigos would be a tough guy. Pretty cool."

"What a ghost. Aunt Mo, can you finish the process quickly?" Hemo cursed.

Recruiting yourself is nothing more than treating someone to be beheaded and accepting the trap of being a dog.

Although he was muttering in his heart, Hemo still looked arrogant on the outside, walking on thin ice.

Not in fear, but in awe. This aspect of Hemo made Morathi quite satisfied.

After all, she's not some man-eating monster, right?

"What's your name?"

"Return to your lord, Helmer."

"Well, Helmer, right? To be honest, I have never paid much attention to you civilians before." Morathi raised the glass and took a sip of the blood-like fruit wine.

"But today you proved your worth, far more than being a repeating crossbowman."

"In the name of the Phoenix Queen, I confer the title of lord. From now on, you will shed your blood for the great Phoenix Queen and the only Phoenix King of the elves, Malekith. Do you agree?"

Morathi's frivolous gaze fell on Helmer, wanting to see the various reactions of this commoner who suddenly became prosperous.

Overjoyed, kneeling in front of him with excitement and swearing allegiance?

Probably so.

Although she has seen too much flattery, Morathi still enjoys this feeling of being in control of everything.

However, the picture she imagined did not appear. Hermer's face looked thoughtful, as if he was considering it.

If it were any other dark lord, he would definitely be angry because of Hemo's presumption, but Morathi was not in a hurry.

Discreet people are welcome here.

What she needs is a right-hand man who can help her, not a court jester who only flatters her.

In fact, Helmer was really thinking about things. He was recalling the memory of the original owner of the body.

In the memory of the original owner, dark elves are roughly divided into five classes.

The supreme ruler, the Witch-King Malekith.

Under him are the seven dark lords who rule the major cities. Under the dark lords are ordinary lords who also control a lot of influence and power. The next class is the civilian class, which makes up the main part of the population; The final class were slaves.

Morathi's status is unique.

She directly awarded him the title of Lord Hemer, which was definitely beyond the norm.

Because the Dark Elves have a very single social structure. Each dark elf knows his place in the social hierarchy, but has no problem improving his status. Many nobles spent their lives trying to overthrow higher-ranking nobles and replace them with their own. Commoners serve the nobles and hope to be adopted into a noble family, but this rarely happens. The most common promotion channel is military merit.

"Of course I have the record of killing a fear lord, but Aunt Mo's reward is a bit heavy."

Helmer quickly analyzed the reasons.

"First of all, Morathi's words are worthy of scrutiny. The focus of her tone is to serve her, rather than the symbolic addition of spicy chicken shreds at the end. This is equivalent to asking yourself if you are willing to become her confidant."

"Aunt Mo was just exiled to the ancient city of Quintex by her son. Her footing was unstable and she needed to cultivate her own power of confidants. Therefore, she employed people in an eclectic way. It happened that she had made a wave of achievements in her own body. This wave can be regarded as a stroke of luck. "

In fact, Helmer only proposed one of the reasons. The fundamental reason why Morathi is eager to cultivate her own power is that while the belief of Kane, the Bloody Hand God, is widely accepted by the dark elves, the Joy Sect she founded and admired is gradually being regarded as As a heretic, she needs fresh blood to strengthen her power.

Therefore, she was both rewarding Helmer and drawing him into the camp of the Joy Sect.

It's a pity that Helmer didn't think of it for a moment, but even if he thought of it, he wouldn't refuse Morathi.

After all, people have to bow their heads when they are under the eaves. Rejecting Morathi is a very dangerous thing. Life is the most important thing. No matter what happens, the worst case scenario is that he will pretend to convert to Slaanesh and regret it later.

Hemo absolutely does not want to come into contact with the Four Gods of Chaos.

"My Queen, it is my honor to serve you and His Highness the Eternal Phoenix King." Helmer pulled out the sword he had taken from Martigos, knelt down on one knee, and swore allegiance to Morathi.

No matter what, just hold on to your thighs and go down. Wait until you have a certain level of strength before making the next step.

Thinking of Aunt Mo's intention, Hemer had an idea and added another sentence:

"Kain on top, my sword will fight for you."

"You are very knowledgeable." Morathi stood up and walked down the throne slowly.

A gust of fragrant wind blew towards his face, and a pair of round, tight and slender thighs stopped in front of him. Hemo remained motionless, staring intently at the velvet carpet under his feet.

Morathi stretched out her snow-white slender hand and placed it on Hemer's helmet, gently wiped the dust on it, and whispered: "The capable Druzi rises to power, while the incompetent bleeds. You can gain my favor because of me. Consider you worthy of my use now.”

"After becoming a lord, don't relax, otherwise there will be countless servants willing to serve me waiting for you." Morathi smiled and took off Hemo's black sharp repeater helmet.

A waiter brought a gorgeous armor that symbolized the fear lord.

Morathi's fingers entwined a strand of Hemo's white hair, then leaned down, her red lips came to his ear and whispered: "Don't let me notice that you have betrayal, otherwise, I will make you miserable. Death is too painful to live."

Homer shuddered.

Damn, she is indeed the crazy lady, Aunt Mo. Emotions switch freely.

Morathi personally put the Dread Lord's helmet on Hemer and then sat back on the throne.

"Let us welcome the new Dread Lord, Hemer."

Morathi clapped her hands and chuckled.

The entire camp immediately cheered, all congratulating Hemo.

Even the taciturn Sabios applauded.

Faced with such a situation, Helmer was filled with emotion.

More than ten hours ago, he performed a battle maneuver in the game where the system predicted a smooth victory and suffered a bloody defeat. Unexpectedly, he now traveled to the Warhammer world and dramatically became the lord of the dark elves.

Really good fortune.

Standing in the middle of the military tent to receive congratulations with a sharp sword in hand, Helmer, who is young at heart, almost lost himself in the shouts of lords.

At the same time, Helmer couldn't help but feel a bit proud.

Warhammer, starting with the Dark Elf Lords.

"From now on, I am Hemer, the fear lord of the dark elves. In the dark world of Warhammer, there will eventually be a place for me. I will use the shuriken to fulfill my oaths and duties and protect my Phoenix Queen, the Eternal Phoenix The king and my people will fight for Druzi to the end. But I will not lose myself. Neither Kane nor the four gods of chaos can affect my will. When the chaos comes, I will rush to the end. Ahead!"

Helmer swore secretly in his heart.