Just being a dark elf in Warhammer - Chapter 864

“You surprised me a little bit?” Darkus raised his arm to signal for calmness, and then slowly glanced at Morathi, who suddenly appeared not far from him. There was a hint of exclamation in his tone, but also mixed with a bit of amusement, as if he was looking at a rare antique that unexpectedly appeared on the exhibition stand.

“Oh?” Morathi raised her eyebrows slightly, with a relaxed and indifferent smile on her face. Her posture was elegant, and she didn’t seem to take Darkus seriously.

“I thought…” Darkus paused deliberately, with a hint of joking in his eyes, and then pretended to be amazed, “You have already left Grond, or… your lower body has turned into a snake’s tail. , wings growing from the back?”

“Like Drusala?”

“No! It’s not her.” Darkus shook his head, with a smile on his lips, “It’s Fulgrim.”

“Fulgrim?” Morathi frowned slightly, and there was a brief moment of confusion in her calmness and calmness. She seemed to have never heard the name before and couldn’t understand what Darkus was expressing.

“It’s okay, but I’m really curious, Morathi, why are you here?” Darkus waved his hand and said casually.

Morathi did not answer immediately. She lowered her head with a faint smile on her lips, as if she was recalling some distant and unknown past. At this moment, her expression was soft and complicated, peeling off the coldness on the surface, revealing another side that was buried deep inside. After a moment, she raised her head and looked directly at Darkus, with a trace of deep and unpredictable emotion flashing in her eyes.

“The world when I was a child was a world full of light.” She spoke slowly, with a bit of nostalgia and softness in her tone. “At that time, the shadow of chaos had not yet enveloped the earth, and the elves lived in peace. An endless, tiresome peace that is boring and annoying.”

“This is not good news for you.” Darkus continued teasingly, but his eyes were firmly fixed on Morathi, observing every move of his opponent like a predator.

“Yes.” Morathi sighed, raising the corners of her mouth slightly, revealing a self-deprecating smile, “I was too childish, too stupid, and too naive at that time, and I didn’t realize how luxurious peace is, at least until the omen vision appeared. , I am indeed innocent.”

“That was a gift when I was eleven years old, a gift that made me miserable. I saw the future, a future swallowed by chaos, a future where death and destruction come.” Her eyes became distant and calm, She paused, and there was a bit of self-deprecation in her smile, “I am a true prophetess. My gift is to be able to see the future, but the irony is that I cannot see all the future at a glance.”

“You…” Darkus wanted to complain, so that he could see all the future at a glance. Let alone Liv, it would be impossible even if Lilith came, but he finally endured it and shrugged. “later……”

“Yeah, no one believes me.” Morathi nodded, her tone calm, but with a hint of hidden anger, “There is only contempt and suspicion in their eyes. They say I am a madman, a troublemaker, and dangerous. Existed. The elves at that time lived under the long golden rule of the first Eternal Queen and were so well protected that they did not know the cruelty of the world. Their lives were like being in an eternal Garden of Eden, but I saw it. The shadow of destruction.”

“disappointment?”

“Disappointed? Maybe. But more often than not, I just feel…ridiculous.” Morathi repeated softly, with a faint mocking smile at the corner of her mouth, and then an unignorable chill emerged, as if she was recalling those painful moments. In the past, as if mocking myself at that time, “I tried to arouse him I have prophesied, warned, and even used my beauty to attract the attention of the princes, trying to persuade them to listen to my words. But the result is that they are like cattle in the summer field. He lowered his head and gnawed on the sweet grass, never believing that the slaughterhouse existed. “

“Until disaster strikes and everything turns to ashes!” She smiled, with cold mockery and deep irony in her smile. She paused, her tone suddenly turned cold, and her eyes were full of ruthless chill, “Now, those elves who once refused to believe in me are dead. And what about me? I will live forever. I will reshape this world according to my own will. world.”

Darkus raised his eyebrows slightly. He caught a hint of danger in Morathi’s tone, but he still stood there, unwavering. He looked at Morathi quietly, like a judge listening to a sinner’s final defense.

Morathi’s voice suddenly became softer, with a hint of enchantment, as if a poisonous snake was whispering in her ear, “The day is coming soon, Darkus, I will become a goddess.” She raised her head slightly, with a look in her eyes. With unconcealable enthusiasm, “I will create a new world, a world that belongs to me!”

“Until I show up.” A smile appeared on Darkus’s lips, with a dangerous light flashing in his eyes.

“Yes, until you show up.” Morathi raised her brows, a touch of complicated emotions appeared in her expression. Her smile did not disappear, but instead gained a hint of weirdness. Her eyes slowly swept across Darkus’ figure, and there was a trace of indescribable heaviness and helplessness in her tone, “I can’t see any future in you. You stir up the future, and everything becomes chaotic, unknown, Disorder. My ability, my gift of foreseeing the future, has no effect on you.” At the end, she sighed softly, seeming to lament her own powerlessness.

“So, do you know why I’m here?”

“Because for a moment, something new changed about your future?” Darkus’ eyes narrowed slightly, and the smile at the corner of his mouth became a little lighter.

“Yes, so before that bitch shows up, please talk to me.” Morathi nodded, with a hint of fatigue in her tone. When she said these words, her whole aura seemed to collapse. He became decadent and weak, and the light in his eyes dimmed a bit.

Darkus frowned slightly. He looked at Morathi in front of him, with complicated emotions in his heart. He imagined many scenarios before coming. He imagined that Morathi had escaped and went to the Chaos Wasteland, looking for opportunities and trying to make a comeback. He imagined that Morathi had completely fallen, like a certain demon prince, with wings growing out of her back and her lower body turning into a snake’s tail. He also imagined that he would have a fierce battle and curses in the Tower of Prophecy with Morathi, who resisted to the end and did not want to be associated with Chaos.

He thought about many possibilities, but he didn’t expect it to be like this.

It wasn’t because he lacked imagination, but the scene was too unbelievable. The Morathi in front of him was more like a tired storyteller, and he couldn’t see through it for the moment. If this happened to someone else, he would believe it, and he would be kind to someone who was about to die, but if it happened to Morathi… he couldn’t help it, the stereotype was too deep.

He opened his mouth, wanting to ask something about the prophecy, such as whether Morathi had seen the future of Hellebore, but in the end, he shook his head. Now Morathi seems to just want to talk, or is she just stalling for time?

“I am prepared for the impending doomsday.” Morathi said softly, as if her memories were mixed with self-deprecation and unwillingness, “I have searched for all kinds of forbidden knowledge. If the elves will not help me, then I can The best thing to do is to ensure your own survival.”

“The strange thing is,” she continued, her voice low and slightly bitter, “in all these painful visions, I never saw Aenarion, just as I never saw you, Darkus. Maybe things would have been different if I had seen that?”

Her voice gradually became softer, and the last sentence was like a sigh for herself. She paused and looked up at Darkus, a brief moment of confusion flashing in her eyes.

“Hey… when I met Aenarion, I had been walking on a dark road for a long time. It was too late to turn back, even if I really wanted to go back and start over.” There was something in her tone. There was a hint of helplessness, but more of a resignation to her past fate, as if these were the endings that she had already destined to be unable to escape.

She paused, gathering her thoughts.

“You know what? Aenarion was already famous at that time, and his power surpassed all others. He was a cold, mortal god with eyes like a god. He believed my prophecy because at that time The end has appeared, and my predictions have been confirmed and come true.”

She gave a wry smile.

“But the strange thing is, Aenarion doesn’t need me. He doesn’t kneel before my beauty. He looks at me as someone else.”

There were too many flaws. Darkus twitched and his expression stiffened. He tried hard to control his expression to prevent himself from laughing out loud suddenly. Of course he knew who the person in Aenarion’s eyes was. According to Morathi’s description, in fact, at that time, Morathi…

No one believed the prophecy, and the lover in his heart did not love her. Even after the next era, Aenarion’s last echo actually regarded her as an enemy and attacked her.

Really…he didn’t know how to evaluate all this absurdity, or maybe he wasn’t qualified to evaluate it at all.

“You know? Aenarion’s indifference is a problem for me, a challenge that I cannot avoid.” Morathi said softly, with emotion and persistent self-mockery in her tone, “I am determined to win him. Free him from his sorrow and lead Aenarion to his cause.”

“Your career?” Darkus raised his eyebrows slightly, with a hint of sarcasm in his tone, “Become a god? Become a goddess? Create a new world, a world that belongs to you?”

“Yes.” Morathi nodded, her tone calm, but a trace of regret flashed in her eyes, “But fate played tricks on me, and I lost.”

She chuckled lightly, with some inexplicable relief in her smile, as if she was laughing at herself.

“In this love game, I discovered my true love. At first, I just wanted to seduce Aenarion to fall in love with me, but in the end I found that I fell into love with Aenarion like a sixteen-year-old innocent girl. Crazy love. All I want to do is love Aenarion.”

When she said this, she laughed softly. The laughter contained a bit of joy, but more of it was a calm acceptance of the absurdity of fate.

Darkus nodded, didn’t say anything more, just raised his eyebrows slightly.

“I eventually won Aenarion, but he never loved me as I loved him. He couldn’t, and his dead wife and his missing children filled his heart with resentment, shadow-like emotions. Covered him. He was immersed in his own grief and desire for revenge, and eventually these emotions swallowed him up.” Morathi’s voice was soft, but it carried an unconcealable sadness.

She paused and raised her head slightly, as if she was staring at some distant past, with a hint of complicated emotions in her eyes.

“He threatened to destroy the world, but in the end he didn’t and he saved the world.”

Her tone rose slightly, as if she was sinking into deeper memories.

“I have fought alongside Aenarion, slaying those who slaughtered my people. I have cast spells, brewed deadly poisons, and devised strategies for my beloved’s armies. I think I have done more than Elloran Anal is much bigger, that guy is just a flag bearer, an adjutant!”

There was a hint of imperceptible resentment in her tone.

“I have brought countless victories to the elves with my talent for illusion. Where is Elloran? What did he do?”

“The funny thing is, those Asur have forgotten this now. Since my son split the Elf Kingdom, they prefer to portray me as a complete and utter villain in those light-hearted morality plays that do not require the audience to use their brains to think. The villain.” She chuckled, that smile. The content is full of ridicule and cruelty, “Those dramas have always been very popular with Assur and have always been popular. They don’t know what it will take to win back these battles when everyone thinks the end of the world is coming.” The price, let alone the price I paid for victory!”

As the words continued, her tone slowly turned from sarcastic to deep, until finally, it turned into a helpless sigh.

“I rarely brag about those victories that happened thousands of years ago, because I don’t think it’s necessary.” She said softly, her tone softening, but still with that faint pride, “I prefer to live in the present and let the world know that I, Fear me and desire me. I am involved in more areas than my son and have more power than he does.”

“Ah, my poor son. He tried hard to be like his dead father, but he never succeeded. He could make others fearful, but he could never be loved.” Her gaze There was a trace of regret and helplessness in his voice, with a mother’s unique sigh and sorrow in his tone, “He is stronger and smarter than his father Aenarion in some ways, but he just lacks the qualities that made Aenarion possible.” That kind of fire.”

Her voice became deeper, but full of a strange determination, “His great achievements are endless, and these are his efforts to prove himself to his father. His desire to make others look at him differently is too strong. , so that sometimes he will taste the bitter fruit of failure when he is about to succeed.”

She paused for a moment, and a complex emotion flashed in her eyes, as if these memories were a kind of torture in themselves.

“At least it was like this before you showed up, Darkus.” Her eyes fell on Darkus, seeming to be hinting at something, but not completely revealing it.

Darkus nodded, his expression did not change, and he did not respond. He knew that Morathi didn’t need any answer now. Morathi just wanted to talk, or in other words, these words were more for herself.

At this moment, he felt more like a priest, conducting a confession ceremony for a dying person. Unfortunately, Morathi was not confessing. Her words were more like a calm statement, or some kind of summary of fate, ruthless and unchangeable.

Fortunately, he is not a judge, let alone a clergyman. He did not criticize Morathi’s words or evaluate Morathi’s choices, because all these had long lost their meaning.

Is it possible that he wants to attend the entire public trial?

He just stood there quietly, staring at Morathi in front of him, and allowed her to continue talking. Whether Morathi was seeking to be listened to or stalling for time, he would not allow himself to be disturbed in the slightest by Morathi’s words.

“Actually, compared to Aenarion’s unsurpassed great achievements, his daily life does not leave a deep impression on people.” Morathi spoke slowly, with a nostalgic calmness in his voice. With mockery, “Malekis doesn’t even understand why, the original Because, quite simply, Aenarion died in his greatest moment, so the elves could mold him into their own ideal hero image and sing his praises without worrying about a living Aenarion leaving. Come and tell them: None of what you are talking about is the real me.”

Please…you…Collect_6Ⅰ9ⅠBookⅠ(Six\Nine\Book\!)

She laughed softly, with a hint of mixed emotions in her laughter, which seemed to be both sarcasm and sadness.

Darkus also smiled. He thought Morathi was right. On this point, he agreed.

“Poor Aenarion, if he is still alive, he should be more than seven thousand years old now, right? But he refused the eternal life I gave him and resolutely walked towards his own death. This is why I love him , and one of the reasons why I hate him.”

She paused, a trace of unconcealable pain flashing in her eyes.

“He always said that it is better to be ashes burning in the fire than to be dust flying on the ground. However, in the end, he did not get such a heroic ending. He walked into the flames and tried to become ashes, But the flames refused his request, and his body turned into flying dust on the ground, mixed with the enemies he had killed.”

Her voice gradually dropped, with a certain tired resignation in her tone.

“No one even knows his final resting place. I searched many times but never found my husband.”

She sighed softly, her eyes lowered slightly, and there was a trace of regret that could not be concealed in her eyes.

“All I found was his broken armor, and there was nothing inside that armor. I can’t believe that he has completely rotted, and I don’t want to think about this possibility. I prefer to remember what Aenarion once looked like. ”

She paused for a moment, her eyes seemed to penetrate time and space again, staring at the figure in her memory, her tone became soft and ethereal.

“I am very tired, but I can still easily imagine what Aenarion looks like. Cold and cruel, with a tall figure, broad and powerful shoulders, a face as handsome as a god, eyes as burning as the sun and full of sorrow. His eyes…and the terrifying divine sword gleaming at his waist.”

She closed her eyes gently, as if she was trapped in an inescapable memory.

“There has never been an elf like him. I don’t know, does this uniqueness make me sad, or does it make me grateful? I am grateful that my lover is the only one in this world.”

She opened her eyes, laughed, and continued with a bit of self-deprecation and a bit of pain.

“I sometimes wonder, is this also a kind of attraction he has for me? Our love… Even if we once loved deeply, it has become stale with the passage of time. It made me learn to hate him. , and even despise him.”

Her voice gradually became lower, with a hint of exhaustion and some emotion that couldn’t be completely left behind.

“But there is no doubt that Aenarion is the being that the elves should always remember. He was their first Phoenix King, the warrior who was comparable to a god who saved them from doom.”

Her eyes fell on Darkus, and there was a calm determination in her tone, with a bit of arrogance and scrutiny.

“Neither you nor my son can compare with him!”

Darkus’ eyes dropped slightly, without any expression on his face, and then he nodded. Morathi’s assessment is correct, and there is no doubt about Aenarion’s greatness.

“Of course, Aenarion did not do it alone.” Morathi’s voice contained a calm sigh, as if she had analyzed these histories countless times, “Although he won every battle, Without Caledor, he would still have lost the war.”

She paused, and there was a hint of sarcasm and indifference in her tone.

“The elves choose to only remember that great battle, and Aenarion who fought desperately to protect the mages at the last moment. But in the end, it was Caledor who saved the world, wasn’t it?”

She raised her chin slightly and her tone was determined.

“He created a spell that drained the winds of magic and sent the demons back to the Realm of Chaos.”

“With thin features and a broad forehead, this appearance is so unusual for an elf. His ice-blue eyes are as cold as glaciers. He is as unforgettable as Aenarion… Maybe he is Bea A better tool for Narion? But… he’s too cold and too smart to be manipulated, and it’s impossible for me to love him the way I love Aenarion.”

Her voice paused slightly, and then her tone became deeper.

“He is not a hero like Aenarion.”

Her eyes flickered for a moment, wandering in some kind of memory, and her voice lowered, but with a subtle respect and regret.

“Yet, beneath that calm, shrewd exterior, he was, like Aenarion, fearsomely brave. In the end, Caledor and his companions laid down their lives to make their great spell work. They knew that this would only bring them something worse than death. Their souls are trapped in the eternal vortex to this day, frozen forever the moment they were killed by the power of the spell they had woven. Lived.”

When she said this, she paused for a moment, as if waiting for Darkus to respond. But Darkos just stood there silently, his eyes lowered slightly, as if he was deep in thought, but also as if he did not want to interrupt her narration.

In fact, Darkus opened his mouth and almost blurted out: “I met Caledor a few years ago.” But he finally swallowed the words. Now was Morathi’s time, and he knew this. Morathi needed to talk, and all he had to do was listen quietly and then do what needed to be done.

“I have lived long enough, Darkus.” Morathi suddenly changed the subject, her voice low but with a calm determination. She raised her head, with an indescribable tiredness and detachment in her eyes, “I am already old. I have witnessed the drift and changes of the continent for thousands of years. I have seen the glaciers constantly changing, and I have seen the mountains being squeezed together by the earth as the plates advance. Pressed and ground to pieces.”

She smiled bitterly, a hint of loneliness flashed in her eyes.

“I may be the longest-lived mortal in the world. Only the gods are older than me. They don’t need to live in this place like me, and they don’t need to be bound by this place like me.”

When Darkus heard this, he couldn’t help but nodded slightly. He agreed with the fact that Morathi would live a long time. After all, in the long years, he knew that there were very few mortals who could compare with Morathi. They were mortals, not strange beings such as giant dragons, dragon demons, and Slann. Perhaps the only person in line in front of Morathi is Master De, but that…

“Can you promise me something, Darkus?”

Morathi’s gaze suddenly turned to Darkus, an unpredictable light flashed in her deep eyes, and there was a complex emotion in her tone.

Coming!

“Um?”

Darkius raised his head, frowning slightly. He gave a brief response, his voice calm, but with a hint of vigilance in his eyes. He didn’t know what Moras was going to say next, but he knew that every word of this woman in front of him was full of hidden meaning.

In addition to the whistling cold wind, there was an unspeakable tension and heaviness in the air. (End of this chapter)