Just being a dark elf in Warhammer - Chapter 834

c775 626 Shadow King’s (same as above)

All night long, Aris sat at the root of a giant tree and sobbed. He could not understand why the gods were so cruel. The gods tempted him with love and peace, but deprived him of everything he desired most, his family, his friends, Ashnir…

In his sorrow, he remembered a sentence: Loneliness is a luxury that only those who have leisure can enjoy. Some people fill the emptiness with meaningless noise, while others replace it with a greater goal, which is more comforting than the company of any mortal.

Aris thought he had found his goal in Avalon, but it was not the case. There was only more pain.

A soft whisper came, and he subconsciously reached out to take the Moon Bow from behind. He gently stroked the silver metal with his fingers and felt the warmth radiating from the bow. He put the bow against his cheek, and the moment he touched the bow made him feel at peace, and tears slid down the arc of the bow.

This…maybe this is the meaning of his coming to Avalon.

He took a deep breath, hugged the Moon Bow to his chest, and slowly stood up. He knew he had to find his purpose. Others could blame fate, resent the gods, or blame luck, but he had no complaints in his heart, except hatred for the Druki who had brought disaster to Ulthuan.

His fate was not determined by Kurnos, nor by his father and grandfather, nor by Barshana. Everything that happened to him had only one root: Druki!

He was like a leaf on a river, dragged by uncontrollable currents, forced to fight, forced to flee, forced to hide, but all this would change.

Deer would run and be hunted, while wolves chose their prey.

Now was the time to act, not react.

For too long, Druki had set the rhythm of war. But now what was boiling in Aris’s chest was the primal desire for the hunt awakened by Kurnos.

—

All the chaos dissipated, and Aris sensed a different existence. After the end of the Age of Aenarion, the winds of magic were drawn into the great vortex of Ulthuan. Growing up in the mountains, he was familiar with the invisible winds of magic, but he was not deeply aware of their existence.

However, in Avalon, magic seemed different.

It was a more ancient force, rooted in the trees, lingering in the land, and hidden in the lake.

As he realized this, he noticed that the lake contained a particularly strong mysterious energy, which reminded him of silver rain, dew on an autumn morning, and the fragrance of spring flowers.

There was potential in this magic, an ancient and eternal life force.

Suddenly, there was a sharp fluctuation in the energy of the lake, pulling him out of his trance. He slowly opened his eyes, as if waking from a long and refreshing dream.

The dusk disappeared, replaced by a clear night sky full of stars and a full moon.

Looking up, he saw a flash of light in the middle of the lake. He thought it was the reflection of the moon, so he stood up to see it more clearly. However, he found that the light was not from the moon, but strangely, the moon’s light was not reflected on the lake. Soon, he realized that the light came from the bottom of the lake.

He suddenly felt uneasy and looked around. In the atmosphere of the night, the trees looked different from the daytime, and the lake looked even more strange. The lake water had a dark luster, and even the starlight could not be reflected on it. Only the light from the bottom of the lake illuminated the surroundings, coating the lakeshore, the surrounding tree trunks and branches with a layer of silver-white brilliance.

He tried to overcome his fear with reason, and soon he felt that this empty space was not full of terror, but a deep sadness, a distant mourning. He realized that a great tragedy had happened on this land. This feeling was neither a memory nor a perception that could be clearly described, but an indescribable sense of nothingness and loss of hope, which resonated with his loneliness in a sense.

Some kind of existence coming from the lake seemed to call him.

He stepped into the lake, and the warm touch wrapped around his skin. He felt that he was walking into a mercury-like pond. The slippery resistance made every step extremely difficult. He continued to swim forward, his movements slow and rhythmic, his movements did not stir up a ripple, no splashes to break the tranquility, he kicked his legs hard, swam faster, but the lake remained as calm as before.

Although he swam hard, he did not feel the passage of time, nor could he judge his speed. The light neither became stronger nor weakened, but always surrounded him and bathed him. He swam countless times, feeling breathless and extremely tired in his limbs.

At this moment, he seemed to wander in time, his muscles burned, and his chest was almost suffocated by the pressure. But he insisted on moving forward, putting the pain and fatigue behind him, and moving forward towards the light.

When he realized that he was above the light source, he stopped and floated on the water for a moment, looking down, only to see the white light and silver glow surrounding him.

He took a deep breath and dived towards the light source at the bottom of the lake that looked like sleeping moonlight. He continued to dive, and the deeper he went, the more his lungs swelled and hurt, as if they were about to burst. His world was enveloped in silver light, and he was worried that he would drown. His consciousness struggled to survive.

But another part of him longed for the nothingness that the light gave him. Besides that, there was a voice whispering in his mind.

He felt his grip on something, both strong and pliable. He held the object tightly, turned around and swam toward the lake. As he ascended, the light gradually weakened. Exhaustion and lack of oxygen made his consciousness blurred. Fragments of the past flashed through his mind, and his ears were filled with noise.

His heart was racing and every fiber of his muscles was screaming in pain. But he still held the object tightly and rushed towards the lake with all his strength.

The stars were spinning in his eyes and the moon was swaying in his field of vision. His whole body was numb, except for his right hand where he still felt a strong touch. After breathing for a moment, his mind gradually cleared up. The fatigue and dizziness gradually receded. He lowered his head and looked at the items in his hands.

It was a beautiful bow, made entirely of silver-white metal, shining brightly in the moonlight. The ends of the bow are decorated with crescent-shaped tips, and the bowstring is almost invisible and as thin as a hair. The bow was as light as air and looked perfect in his hands. The moment he touched the bow, he felt a sense of warmth and security, as if the bow was embracing him with its own existence.

He heard movement from the lake. He looked up and saw that the moon had lowered above the treetops and was about to disappear. In the dim light, he saw the shadows of the wolves scattered on the shore of the lake, and countless pairs of eyes shining in the shadows, watching him.

He kissed the bow gently and then raised it above his head.

——

Anlek had never looked so intimidating.

When Aris first came here, he thought it was a terrifying fortress. Now, Druchi has added twisted aesthetics and brutal design to its foundation. The towers are taller than before, and the city walls are hung with iron chains, hung with rotting corpses and sharp hooks.

The spears above the gates were studded with heads, while the battlements themselves were shaped into a row of slender fangs. Vultures and crows circled endlessly, stopping from time to time to peck at the mutilated remains on display.

The sound is also disgusting.

Gongs, bells and drums echo with the crows of crows and the screams of vultures. These sounds were intertwined with the bloody sacrificial rituals in the temple, and sharp cheers and prolonged screams penetrated the noisy background sound.

The air was filled with the smell of burnt meat, and Deha surged, creating a suffocating and evil atmosphere that made him tremble. He wrapped his plain blue cloak tighter around him, trying to ward off the unnatural chill.

He came here to find answers: to reveal the identity of the mysterious Witch King.

But he also had another, more personal purpose. Druchi took away too many things in his life, his family, friends, lovers and land. Now, Druchi has crossed the line on something he cannot tolerate, and his Moonbow has been taken away from him.

All summer long, Moonbow’s whisper disturbed his sleep.

As he hid in the temple of Kurnos in the Ring Mountains, the distant wail of Moonbow’s agony plagued his thoughts. His family is gone, his friends have left him, and the land has turned into wilderness.

He can’t restore these things, but the Moon Bow… he can take it back!

After entering the city, he regained his confidence. He walked towards the Black Tower calmly and firmly. He was not sure where exactly the Moon Bow was hidden, but he knew that the Moon Bow was somewhere in the Black Tower.

He will seize the Moonbow from under Morathi’s nose, an action that will mark the return of the Shadow King.

The steps were stained with blood, and every few steps stood guards armed with cruel, hooked halberds. Although guarded by sentries, the door remained open, and groups of Druchi came and went.

He joined the team and silently endured the gazes of the stern-faced warriors on both sides. The line moved forward slowly until he was walking into the shadow of the Black Tower.

Most visitors continue up the central staircase, apparently visiting a member.

And he stood aside and watched, not looking for soldiers but for servants. Servants’ passageways in palaces tended to provide freer and easier passage, something he had learned in the court of Tal Anlok.

A moment later, he saw a flustered attendant emerge from behind a tapestry showing Aenarion riding Indragnir. This made him wonder whether Aenarion had ever truly understood the mad woman he married as his wife, and whether he had ever expected that he would inadvertently bring such a cruel disaster to the world.

Not thinking, he walked through the tapestry and found a narrow archway. Behind the arch was a steep flight of stairs that wound upwards. He continued along the stairs, not knowing where he was going, but trusting his instincts to guide him.

Soon he left the stairs and came into a spacious gallery. Niches on either side of the gallery contain marble statues depicting princes who fought alongside Aenarion. Some statues were vandalized, their features chiseled away and their surfaces covered with crude graffiti. Others were intact, figures clearly loyal to Anlek’s new master.

He didn’t recognize most of the statues, but some of them seemed familiar to him.

He stopped in front of a damaged statue. Bloody nails were driven into the eyes of the statue, but it was still vaguely distinguishable. He found that the statue’s face was very similar to his. After thinking for a moment, he realized that this was the statue of Elloran Anarr in his youth.

He came here to take back the Moon Bow, to take back what had been taken away from him. But he began to think, could he get more back here? Is his grandfather still alive? Imprisoned in a dungeon in Anlek? He had enough time to investigate, so he turned back to the stairs and began to go deeper into the black tower.

He thought the dungeon would be a hellish scene full of pain and torture. However, on the contrary, the dungeon was silent, brightly lit, and dotted with golden lamps. He didn’t see any guards, and as he walked through the narrow corridors, he found the cells clean and empty.

Confused, he returned to the main staircase and made his way to the servant quarters a few levels above the dungeon.

The scene in the servants’ quarter seemed like a twisted version of what he had experienced in Anlok, with maids and page boys rushing through, many bearing scars and other signs of abuse, some wearing amulets from the gods, others garishly dressed for pleasure. Cult clothing.

He grabbed the arm of a young maid who was passing quietly carrying an empty silver tray. He got some information from the mouth of the maid: the location of the Moon Bow; there were no prisoners in the castle, they were all sent to the temple for sacrifice; and his grandfather did exist and lived in the West Tower as a guest.

He was surprised by the lack of guards at the West Tower, and he guessed that the arrogant Druch believed that no one would dare to infiltrate here. Following the directions he received, he quickly walked to the floor where his grandfather lived. He stood in front of a half-open black door and knocked, but received no response. After looking around to make sure no one was watching, he gently opened the door and slipped in quietly.

The rooms are simply furnished, with large windows letting in light and opening to a balcony. He saw a figure sitting on a chair made of reeds on the balcony, facing the sun. After checking the adjacent room and confirming that there was no problem, he carefully walked to the balcony.

Elloran Anar sat there, her face bathed in sunlight, her eyes closed, and she looked like she was asleep.

Aris was brought back to the time many years ago, before his suffering. He remembered playing in the garden of the mansion and his grandfather basking in the sun like this. The noise he and his friends made would always wake his grandfather, who would gently scold them before getting up and joining in their silly games.

The flames and black smoke swallowed up this memory, leaving only the scene of the destroyed bodies of Eannaris and his friends nailed to the wall of the mansion. When the memory faded, he couldn’t help but growl.

“grandfather?”

Elloran moved slightly, grunting unconsciously.

“Elloran?” Aris’ voice became louder, squatting next to the old elf.

“Who is there?” Elloran turned his head, frowning, but his eyes were still closed, and he asked hoarsely.

“It’s me, Aris, grandfather.”

“Stop playing your tricks. Aris is dead. Kill them all and get away with your phantom.” Elloran snapped.

“No, Grandpa, it’s really me, Aris. I will take you out of here.” Aris gently put his hand on his grandfather’s hand and shook it lightly.

“You can’t deceive me this way. You can make me blind, but you can’t make me a fool.”

“Look at me, Grandfather, it’s really me, Aris!”

“Are you still proud of your masterpiece? When you took away my sight, I did not let you have my cry of pain, and now I will not let you be satisfied with my broken hope.” Ai Luo Lan turned her head and opened her eyes, revealing two pale and lifeless eyes.

“I will find a healer, grandfather, and the mage of Sulfri will definitely make you see the light again. Come with me, I can’t stay here for too long.” Aris said while trying to hold Elloran’s arm. , helped grandfather up from the chair.

“You want me to leave, don’t you? Demon! How many souls did she promise to give you in exchange? One thousand and one? Their deaths will not be a burden to me. You can threaten me, goad me, seduce me in this way , but I will never let you complete that abominable contract,” Elloran said softly, while gently withdrawing his arm from Aris’ grasp.

“You must come with me, please believe me, grandfather, it’s really me, Aris!” Aris had tears in his eyes, his body was shaking, and his voice was full of pain.

“I won’t believe anything. It’s torture enough for you to lock me up in this evil place. I can smell the sacrifices and hear their screams. You open my door and say I can always Leave, but you know I can never do that. My soul is still pure and there will be no ghosts of murder to haunt me when I am taken to Hades. I can stay here for a thousand more years and you can endure it. No matter how much torture I think of, I won’t let that happen.”

Aris stepped back, shaking with grief and rage. He could take Elloran away by force, but if what his grandfather said was true, it was clear that his grandfather was unwilling to pay the price Morathi had set for freedom. He pulled out the dagger hidden in the belt of his robe, thinking of ending the old man’s pain. His hand trembled violently, and he slowly reached for Elloran’s throat, but in the end he jerked his hand back.

He can’t do it!

Although his heart was broken, he could only respect his grandfather’s wishes as he had been taught. Finally, he took a deep breath, bent down, and kissed his grandfather’s forehead gently.

“Goodbye, grandpa, leave in peace and dignity.” He choked.

Another humiliation, and the grief turned again into the cold anger that had sustained him for years.

He came from the West Tower to the Conquest Museum where the trophies were displayed. The hall was empty, and dozens of Druchi crowded into the gallery to view the exhibits. Several soldiers were scattered around the exhibit, looking listless.

He mingled with the crowd and observed the trophies on display. He suppressed his disgust at these cruel exhibits and squeezed to the other end of the gallery, where he finally found the Moon Bow.

The Moon Bow was placed on a purple cushion. The metal had lost its luster and looked dull.

The nameplate under the cushion reads: The so-called Shadow King was killed by Heliben, the priest of Khaine.

He stared at the nameplate for a moment and shook his head. Not far away, a soldier was checking his nails. He walked through the crowd and came to the soldier.

“Lend it to me.”

After he finished speaking to the soldier, he took the soldier’s sword out of its sheath, stabbed it into the opponent’s abdomen instantly, twisted the blade and pulled it out.

There was chaos in the gallery, and Druchi shouted loudly. Some people tried to catch him, but he cut them down mercilessly. He kicked their bodies away and continued towards the Moon Bow. Others tried to escape, but he mercilessly killed anyone within reach, cutting Druch down to the ground.

He grabbed the Moon Bow and felt the bow come to life in his hands. A warm feeling spread along his arms, and a soft voice echoed at the edge of his ears.

The surrounding guards were approaching quickly with bright swords in their hands. He jumped onto the wooden railing at the edge of the gallery and was about to jump into the hall below. At this time, his eyes were caught by something.

Displayed at the top of the gallery is a simple tiara of silver and gold, set with a star-shaped gemstone.

“Is this the crown of Nagaryth?”

He ran along the railing, past a soldier’s sword strike, and sprinted towards the crown. He turned deftly, parried the blow with his sword, plunged the sword into the soldier’s throat, then whirled and kicked another druchi in the face, then reached over and drove the sword through the soldier’s back. He used the moon bow to block another soldier’s attack, and the sword blade scratched the enemy’s cheek, leaving a trail of blood. He slams his shoulder into his enemy’s stomach and drives his sword into his enemy’s side as they fall to the ground.

“I’ll take this with me too.”

He slung the Bow of the Moon over his shoulder, spun around to avoid the enemy’s attacks, and grabbed the Crown of Nagaryth. He put the crown neatly on his head and quickly lowered his head to avoid the sword before it swept across his face. A kick struck the enemy’s knee, causing the soldier to stumble back. Immediately, he swung continuously until the enemy’s defense collapsed and plunged the sword into the enemy’s chest.

Then, he jumped onto the railing again and jumped down from the railing. After landing lightly, he ran towards the door of the hall. Fortunately, the door was open. He rushed out of the hall and found chaos in the long front hall. The dignitaries and servants huddled together, scrambling to escape the commotion, while heavily armed warriors tried to make their way through the crowds to meet them.

He caught a glimpse of a servant’s passage to his right and passed through doorways and stairs, turning left or right at will because he had no idea where he was going. Passing through a double door, he found himself in a vaulted reception room, at the other end of which was an open window looking out onto the roof of Alek.

He ran towards the window. As he ran, he heard rapid footsteps behind him, but did not look back. He sprinted towards the window at full speed, leaping out and crashing onto the tiled balcony outside.

After a few seconds, he disappeared from the sight of his pursuers and sneaked into the crowded streets of Anlek.

“Queen, we found this.” The captain almost crawled into Morathi’s room. He stared at the ground and trembled like a scared dog. He crawled to the queen and handed over a roll of parchment tremblingly.

“Stand up, have you sealed the city?” Morathi stepped forward and snatched the parchment from the captain’s trembling hand. She turned around, stopped suddenly, and hissed.

“Yes, the search continues.”

“He ran away a long time ago, you idiot!” Morathi turned to the captain suddenly, with pure dark abyss in her eyes, she screamed, and slapped the captain hard.

After accusing the soldiers of their incompetence, she turned around again and opened the parchment.

Dear Morath

Bitch! I’m not dead yet! Send your new thugs to Eannaris and give it a try.

Lord of Shadows, Aris Anar

The letter was signed at the end with runes of shadow and revenge, the writing soaked in blood.

——

Like a shadow, Aris shuttled among the crowd, searching for Ashnir. He tucked the cloak carefully under his arm and wrapped it in silk from the colony. Although the package was as light as a feather, he felt as heavy as a lead weight. Excitement and fear were intertwined in his heart. He walked around a neatly manicured lawn and walked towards the banquet area.

At the moment when the two guests briefly separated, he caught a glimpse of Ashnir’s face. Ashnir was bathed in the light, so beautiful that he was fascinated by it. His expression showed elegance and calmness, and his gray eyes were shining with brilliance.

He walked through the wandering crowd and walked straight towards Ashnir. However, when he was only a few steps away from Ashnir, a tall figure suddenly stood in front of him, forcing him to stop suddenly. He was about to go around the other party when he looked up and saw the face of Prince Canteras.

“Aris, I’ve been looking for you.”

“Are you looking for me? Why? I mean, can I help you?” Aris was stunned for a moment, feeling suddenly uneasy in his heart.

“Don’t look so scared, Aris. I’m not here to deliver bad news, just an invitation.” Canteras smiled and put a hand on Aris’ shoulder.

“Oh, is it a hunting?” Aris relaxed slightly.

“Not everyone’s life revolves around the wilderness, Aris. I have guests from Anlek in my house, and I hope you can meet them. They will predict the future for you and Ashniel. I think if the omen is auspicious, we can discuss the specific details of the marriage between the two families.” Cantras sighed and shook his head.

Aris opened his mouth, but found that he didn’t know what to say. He closed his lips tightly to avoid saying stupid words, just nodded, trying to pretend to be thoughtful.

“I thought you would be happy.” Cantras frowned.

“I’m very happy! Really very happy! It sounds so wonderful. But… what if the priests predict bad luck?” Aris’ words were panicked and helpless.

“Don’t worry, Aris, I’m sure the omen will be auspicious.” Cantras looked back at Ashniel, and then at the package in Aris’s hand. He nodded, pulled Aris closer, and gently pushed Aris towards the crowd surrounding Ashnir, “My daughter, the light of the winter sky, look what I found nearby, like a little mouse hiding in a cave! I believe it has something to say to you.”

Aris stumbled a few steps after being pushed and stopped in front of Ashnir. He raised his head and the moment he met those gray eyes, his heart melted instantly. He swallowed a mouthful of saliva and tried to regain his thoughts, but he still forgot the poems he recited over and over again in the library.

“My love, I have been waiting for you all night.” Ashnir leaned forward slightly and kissed Aris’s forehead.

“I prepared this for you.” The fragrance filled Aris’s nose, making him dizzy for a moment. It was a perfume refined with autumn wild flowers. Then he blurted out and handed the package over.

Ashnir took the gift, stroked the soft silk, and looked at the complex ribbons with appreciation. Aris helped her untie the ribbon, and the silken paper fell gently to the ground. Aris grasped the collar of the cloak and opened it up, revealing the dazzling light of the cloak. The other elves whispered in admiration, and a satisfied smile appeared on her lips.

To show his love for Ashnir, Aris commissioned the finest craftsmen to weave a midnight blue cloak for Ashnir, inlaid with star-like diamonds and silver lines to outline the delicate constellation pattern. The design was inspired by his study of his family’s astronomical texts, and he designed the pattern himself, depicting the starry sky above Ulthuan on the day Ashnir was born.

Aris looked around and saw that more elves had gathered on the terrace. Dozens of people were watching the unfolding event, including his mother, father, and grandfather. He realized that perhaps his secret preparations were not as hidden as he thought.

“Let me do it.”

Cantras said, stepping forward to take the cloak from Aris. He gently draped the cloak over Ashnir’s shoulders, expertly fastening the crescent-shaped cloak buckle on his daughter’s right shoulder.

“As the stars light up the night sky, you also light up my life. As the world turns under the gaze of the stars, my life unfolds under your gaze. When the bright Lilith looks down on us with her beauty, her radiance is nothing compared to the light that shines from you.”

Seeing the cloak draped over Ashnir, Aris’s previously forgotten lines suddenly came back to his mind.

At these words, several of the gathered guests murmured in amazement, and some whispered that Aris should not compare the beauty of a mortal to that of the goddess of the moon.

“My heart is as hot as the sun, and I hope your soul can reflect its radiance.”

But Aris ignored this and continued his confession.

“The hunter caught his prey with this most dazzling trap, and the prey could not escape.”

Ashnir’s expression was elegantly pleased, and she looked at the other girls in the crowd, feeling very satisfied with the jealous expressions of the girls. She held Aris’s cheeks with both hands and said with a smile.

Cheers rang out, and then more and more guests joined in. Aris and Ashniel soon became the center of the Midsummer Night. Aris was intoxicated. He felt an unprecedented calmness, a feeling that he could only experience when he stood on the top of the mountain and bent his bow and drew his arrow.

——

The moment Aris broke free from the dream, the whole world was pulled back to reality from the vague illusion. His breathing was rapid, his heartbeat was like thunder, and the emotions he had just experienced in the dream were still echoing in his heart. The warmth and happiness that once existed turned into deep loneliness and regret in an instant, and finally turned into unforgettable hatred and pain.

He slowly opened his eyes, and an elegant figure gradually emerged in his blurred vision.

It was a beautiful woman, wearing a white gauze dress, and her dress rose and fell slightly, as if responding to the howling cold wind of Nagaros. Her long hair poured down like moonlight, and her eyes were gentle and penetrating, as eye-catching as moonlight.

She smiled and looked down at Aris who was leaning against the tree trunk, with a trace of pity and expectation in her eyes. She slowly stretched out her hand, her fingertips trembling slightly, waiting for Aris to respond.

Aris was stunned, half asleep and half awake, unable to tell whether all this was reality or another dream. His sight was caught by the gentle eyes of the figure, and complex emotions rose in his heart. He remembered Ashniel’s face in the dream, the cloak and the starlight that night. His chest ached slightly, and the weight of memory oppressed his soul.

But he could not resist the call of the figure in front of him. He gently raised his hand, hesitated for a moment, and finally handed his hand over. The moment the fingertips touched, a strange warmth flowed through his arm and reached his heart.

“Is it you…” he murmured, his voice was barely audible, as if he was afraid of breaking the too beautiful illusion in front of him.

The figure nodded slightly, and there was a sense of relief and mystery in her smile. Her hand gently took Aris’s arm and pulled Aris up from the ground. (End of this chapter)