Just being a dark elf in Warhammer

Time passed day by day, and soon it was the third day.

That day, Halina got up very early. She opened her eyes before it was completely light and the unchanging lead-gray color had not yet covered the sky of Naggaroth.

According to the previous agreement, her son should be back today, he should be back...

She was worried. She almost didn't sleep last night. She kept tossing and turning, and she was always worried. She didn't even dare to imagine what Fergal had been through in the past three days, nor did she dare to imagine what her son would look like when he returned. All she could do was pray constantly, pray that everything would go well, pray that her son would return intact, and pray that the grace of the Witch King and the Witch King's Hand would not let her child pay a meaningless price.

As time passed, the dawn turned into noon, and the chill in the air faded slightly, but her anxiety continued to deepen.

There was still no sign of the children returning.

It was lunchtime, and the rationed food was still hard to swallow, the black bread was still hard, the stew was still bland, and the food tasted more tasteless in her mouth than ever before.

She forced herself to swallow a few mouthfuls, but the food still tasted bland. She looked around and found that there were many mothers who were as anxious as she was. Many of them lowered their heads, chewed their food mechanically, and kept looking towards the entrance of the military camp, hoping that the familiar figure would appear at any time.

But they didn't come back.

She felt as if a heavy stone was pressing down on her, making it hard for her to breathe.

After dinner, she gathered with several close women, and the topic naturally revolved around their children. They comforted each other, guessed about each other, and tried to analyze and cover up the anxiety in their hearts.

"Could it be that they passed the trial and were left behind?"

"Maybe they're still training?"

"Is there any danger?"

"The merciful Hand of the Witch King would not let these children die in vain...right?"

Everyone wanted to get a positive answer from the other, but no one could give a definite answer. Time passed by, and half of the day had passed, but the entrance of the military camp was still empty. Except for the patrolling soldiers, no team returned.

“I’m back!”

Suddenly, a cry of surprise was heard.

Halina stood up suddenly and ran towards the entrance of the military camp almost subconsciously, her heart pounding and her eyes fixed on the front. However, when she passed through the crowd and saw the figure of the person coming, her heart sank suddenly.

"no……"

Her steps slowly stopped, and the hope in her heart was pressed heavily into reality.

At the entrance of the military camp, a group of people were walking in slowly.

The people who came were not children, but the official who was responsible for registration three days ago, and with him was a large group of women.

Halina frowned slightly. She looked at the group of people carefully and found that their clothes were no different from hers. She realized one thing: these women might be weavers who were forcibly conscripted like herself.

The registrar stood in place, looking at the crowd that was gradually gathering around him with a calm gaze, as if he had anticipated such a scene.

He cleared his throat gently. His voice was not loud, but it revealed an unquestionable majesty.

"Don't worry, the kids will be back tomorrow."

tomorrow……

Halina's heart suddenly tightened and she clenched her fists tightly, trying to suppress the uneasiness in her heart.

"Really?" someone asked worriedly.

"When you return, you will see your children," the registrar replied calmly, then changed the subject, "Now, the registered weavers step out of line, take your ID cards and... valuables, if you have any, you will not be returning tonight."

In the crowd, Halina's body shook slightly. She glanced at the equally anxious mothers beside her, hesitated for a moment, and finally took a deep breath and stepped forward.

Accompanying Halina were several weavers who had been registered. Most of them were women who were conscripted into the military camp. They looked at each other without saying anything, but their eyes showed the same emotions: confusion, tension, and an unspeakable uneasiness.

"I suggest you not to wait here for the children to come back. This is not a good choice." At this time, the registrar added, with a meaningful reminder in his tone.

The crowd paused slightly, some people frowned and wanted to ask, but finally held back.

Halina walked in the team, she looked down at the ID card tightly held in her hand, her fingers slightly tightened. She was worried, but she told herself that no matter what happened, she had to hold on... because her child would be back tomorrow.

The mighty team left the huge military camp, but they did not enter the city of Nagarond as they had imagined, but were taken all the way to the port. There, the ship that was specially designed to pick them up had already been moored at the dock, and the black hull looked particularly silent and solemn under the gray sky.

Halina looked up and saw huge black arks standing tall on the sea in the distance, like floating fortresses. Just as she was stunned, a timid voice suddenly came from the crowd.

"Where...are we going?"

She is a young weaver. Her voice is not loud, but she speaks out the thoughts of everyone.

"The Temple of Viciousness." Upon hearing this, the registrar casually raised his hand and pointed at the black ark in the distance. His voice was plain, as if he was talking about something very ordinary.

This word made the crowd quiet instantly, and a faint sense of tension spread among the crowd.

"Don't worry, you are precious." The registrar added casually, and then he raised the corners of his mouth slightly, revealing a slightly playful smile, and then continued, "You are not going anywhere, and you will not be dragged away to be sacrificed. You are just going to receive a skill test."

Although the words were meant to comfort, his tone, tinged with dark humor, made them feel even more unsettling.

As the order was given, the team began to board the ship, and after crossing the wide deck, they were taken to a spacious cabin. There was no cold iron cage, no frightening shackles, nothing, just a somewhat airtight and uncomfortable cabin.

"Let's eat first." After arriving at the dining area of ​​the Vicious Temple, the registrar ordered and then led everyone to their seats.

Unlike the quota-based meals in the military camp, the food on the Ark was obviously much richer.

The bread is white!

When Halina saw the white bread in her hand, her heart could not help but tremble slightly, as if what she held in her hand was not just food, but a symbol of luxury. She could not remember the last time she had eaten such soft and fluffy white bread. Her fingertips subconsciously pressed it lightly. The soft touch was completely different from the dry and hard black bread in her memory that had to be soaked in water before swallowing.

Not only that, there was also a piece of meat on her plate, as well as a small can of canned fruit.

Meat... real meat! Not the scraps mixed with other things in the military camp, but a whole piece of meat!

Her throat moved slightly, and a dry burning sensation came from the throat. She could feel the instinctive desire in her body.

But she did not move, instead she stared down at the food in front of her and hesitated for a moment. In the past, when she lived in Caronde Karl, she had not lacked food, but she had never been treated like this before. Black bread, dried salt fish, and occasionally a little bit of mushy vegetable soup... those were her daily routine.

Later, after being drafted into the military camp, the food was even simpler and pitiful, with a daily quota of black bread and soup, which sometimes could not even fill my stomach, not to mention the taste. It was not until a month ago that there was an improvement, but it was only an improvement, not delicious.

But now, with the food in front of her, she felt uneasy.

She didn't know why this happened. She should be thankful, but she always felt an indescribable uneasiness in her heart...

Her fingers slowly extended to the canned fruit, examining the seal on it. This was a packaging she had never seen before, hard and smooth, completely different from the wooden barrels and pottery jars she remembered. She knew it was glass, and she could see the flesh inside. She tapped the bottle with her fingernails, making a crisp sound, and then she suddenly made a decision.

She quickly hid the can inside her kaitan!

She didn't know what would happen next, she only knew that this thing was very precious and maybe she could leave it to Fergal. She didn't know whether her decision was right or wrong, but she was used to leaving a way out in an uncertain environment.

After doing all this, she looked at the piece of meat on the plate. She resisted the urge to eat it immediately and instead tore the meat apart carefully.

Keep the small pieces for yourself, hide the big pieces and leave them to Fergal!

Her movements were quick and stealthy; to her, it was an instinct, just like the countless times she had saved her own food rations for her growing son in the past.

She knew that Fergal liked to eat meat. If Fergal came back and saw that she had hidden a piece of meat for him, he would definitely be very happy, right?

But what if I can’t come back?

This thought suddenly entered her mind, her fingertips suddenly tightened, and the hand hiding the meat trembled slightly. She didn't dare to think about this possibility, she subconsciously clenched the meat, as if this would make it safer.

Her behavior was not special, as many mothers in the cafeteria were doing the same thing. Some chose to eat it themselves to fill their stomachs, but more mothers, like her, secretly hid the food and wanted to take it back for their children.

None of them said anything, but they understood each other tacitly. Their hands moved quietly in unnoticed corners, and their eyes revealed not the guilt of stealing, but a kind of obsession with forbearance and tenderness.

Even though they have nothing, even though their future is still uncertain, even though they don't even know if their children can eat this food, they are still willing to make sacrifices for it.

However, just as Halina carefully hid the food, a clear cough sounded, breaking the brief tacit understanding.

“Ahem.”

It was the registrar's voice. He scanned the entire cafeteria, the corners of his mouth slightly raised, revealing a meaningful smile.

"Meat is OK! Canned food is not! Glass bottles must be recycled."

Halina's body suddenly stiffened, and her cheeks quickly turned red, both in shame and embarrassment. She quickly lowered her head, took the can out of the kaitan, and put it back on the table. She didn't dare to look at other people's reactions, but just silently clenched the can in her hand.

This meal should have been sumptuous, a rare delicacy for her in these years, or even one of the few real feasts in her life. She rarely had the opportunity to eat sweets, let alone fresh fruits, which were only enjoyed by the rich and powerful. But... she still had no appetite, and her heart was filled with anxiety. She was worried about her children and what would happen next.

She looked down at the remaining food on the plate, and finally slowly put the small piece of meat into her mouth, forcing herself to chew, but every bite seemed to be chewing anxiety and the unknown.

All she could do was pray. Pray that Fergal would come back safely, pray that this unknown test would not drag her into a deeper vortex. She had never hoped so desperately that time would pass quickly.

"Now, I will take you to the place where the assessment will be held. It will be a long time before the next meal, so each of you will receive a piece of bread. Also, if you can pass the assessment, this meal..." After everyone had finished eating, the registrar stood up again, looked around at the weavers, and then said lightly. He paused, a faint smile appeared on the corner of his mouth, as if deliberately keeping the secret, "You understand."

The weavers looked at each other, some of them frowned subconsciously, they didn't understand, and didn't dare to guess. Some of them clenched the bread in their hands, as if they wanted to find a sense of security from the remaining warmth.

"You will eat it every day in the future, and... it will become more and more abundant." The registrar sighed and added after noticing that the weavers had somewhat misunderstood his humor.

“Eat it every day?”

"More and more abundant?"

These words were like a stone thrown into a calm lake, causing ripples in everyone's hearts.

Their lives have always been full of uncertainty. They have long been accustomed to such a life, where they can fill their stomachs today but may go hungry tomorrow. Now, the registrar's words are like a distant and empty promise, which makes people yearn for it, but also unbelievable.

"How is it possible..."

Halina looked at the bread in her hand with complicated eyes, and then secretly looked at the registrar, trying to tell the truth from the registrar's expression.

But the registrar did not explain much. He just looked at the weavers quietly, waiting for them to digest the weight of his words.

The weavers did not ask any more questions. Although they still had doubts in their hearts, they knew that the next test would not be easy and this night would be very long...

Halina followed the team forward, and gradually, she heard a strange sound. A roar, a low, continuous roar, vibrating in the air, as if some giant creature was slowly waking up. At first, she thought it was the sound of the wind, but as she got closer, the sound became clearer and more rhythmic. She could even feel a faint vibration coming from the ground.

What is that?

She turned her head quietly, trying to find the answer from the faces of the other people in the team. She found that not only herself, but many weavers also looked puzzled, and some even subconsciously held their breath.

Finally, the team stopped.

"We're here."

As the registrar finished speaking, the soldier on guard slowly pushed open the heavy door.

Halina took a step forward and walked into the so-called test site. At this moment, her eyes suddenly widened and she looked at everything in front of her in shock!

She thought this would be an ordinary workshop, like the weaving room she had worked in before. She thought she would see the familiar looms, cutting tables, and shelves full of fabrics. She thought she would sew clothes with needles and threads as she had done in the past to prove her craftsmanship.

However, she was wrong, so wrong!

What she saw was a world she had never seen before!

She saw a huge factory building, the space was too tall to be used by people, and the whole room was filled with the roar of metal. She saw rows of huge devices, which she was sure were not looms. The complex gears meshed with each other, and the axis of the sky was spinning rapidly in the sky, like a skeleton supporting the sky.

Devices that she couldn't name made low wheezing sounds, and thick hot air gushed out of the copper pipes, driving the steel monsters to work. She saw countless spindles spinning at high speeds, and thin silk threads were pulled out like flowing water and woven into cloth.

She froze, her cognition collapsed.

She thought she knew everything about weaving, she thought she was a weaver, part of the industry. She could cut, sew, and weave cloth. She knew the quality of a piece of cloth, what kind of stitches were the strongest, and how to make a piece of clothing both durable and comfortable.

But now, she realized that all her skills were useless here. She used to think that weaving was a job that required exquisite skills and was an art of sewing stitch by stitch, but in front of these machines, her hands became meaningless! Could her hands compare to these machines?

She didn't even know how these machines worked! She didn't understand how the shaft drove the gears, how the steam provided power, and even less how all this was designed...

Her throat tightened slightly, and her chest seemed to be pressed down hard, making it difficult to breathe. She was afraid that she had no place to stand in this world. In her opinion, a worthless existence could not stand in Naggaroth.

Could she still call herself a weaver?

Just when she was too shocked to speak, the registrar's voice sounded again, breaking her thoughts.

“Welcome to a new era.”

The registrar's voice was calm, yet it carried a certain unquestionable majesty. He slowly raised his hand and pointed at the huge machines that were in operation.

"What you see is the textile factory of the future, and the spinners who never get tired even if they work day and night. The machines in the distance are sewing machines that are faster, more accurate, and more stable than the needles and threads in your hands. The next test is simple, and you need to conquer them!"

There was dead silence.

Halina clenched her fist subconsciously. She could feel that she was standing at a huge fork in the road. She could be left behind by the new era, indulge in the past, and become an outcast of the times... Or, she could take this step and embrace this strange and unpredictable future.

The assessment officially began, and she followed the team slowly towards a machine that was more complex and sophisticated than any textile tool she had ever seen.

The base of the machine was heavy, and the metal parts exuded a cold luster. On the top of the machine, a thin needle quietly hung above the cloth, as if it could penetrate the cloth at any time. Next to it was a device she didn't recognize at all, the handwheel, pedal, machine body... all of it made her feel strange and uneasy.

An instructor wearing a scarf and neat work clothes sat in front of the machine. She raised her hand, pressed the mechanism, and then stepped on the pedal. A low buzzing sound instantly sounded, and the sewing machine seemed to come alive. The needle tip pierced the cloth in an instant, quickly and firmly sewed the two pieces of cloth together, leaving a flat, straight seam.

“This is a sewing machine.”

The instructor's voice was calm, as if the existence of this machine was normal. But her expression betrayed her. She liked this feeling, she liked this sense of superiority, and she liked to see the expressions of these weavers. Born in Naggarond, she showed the same expression and reaction after coming to Asheril as the reaction of these weavers now, but this did not prevent her from...

Halina's pupils shrank slightly, and she felt her world turned upside down again. She had always thought that sewing was a craft that required extremely high skills, and every stitch and every thread had to be completed by the weaver's experience and touch, but now, this machine only took a few seconds to complete the work that she used to need several minutes to complete.

Her skills...are they really still valuable?

"You, don't just stand there, come here."

The mentor's voice brought her back to her thoughts.

"I?"

Halina suddenly looked up and found that her teacher was looking at her. She trembled in her heart, walked forward hesitantly, and slowly sat on the wooden stool in front of the sewing machine. Her fingers gently touched the cold machine body, and the touch of metal made her heart slightly cold. This kind of machine... can she really control it?

"Don't be afraid, it won't bite you."

The instructor's tone was still calm, but Halina could hear a hint of impatience hidden in it. She knew that she had no chance to make mistakes.

"Look here, the sewing machine doesn't rely on hand skills like needlework, but on foot control. You need to use your foot to press the pedal to control its operation. Press it lightly, it will go slowly, and press it hard, it will go fast."

Halina looked down at the wooden pedal, swallowed her saliva, carefully raised her foot, and stepped on it tentatively. The machine vibrated slightly, the needle slowly fell, and the fabric began to be sewn. But she soon found that the stitches were crooked and even twisted, not as neat as the instructor's demonstration. She frowned and couldn't help feeling frustrated.

"Don't be impatient, take your time, you still have a chance."

The instructor pointed to a roll of waste cloth beside him and motioned for Halina to continue trying.

Halina took a deep breath, adjusted her foot strength, and stepped on the pedal again. This time she was more careful than before, and the needle landed steadily on the fabric, and the fine stitches finally became much neater.

Her eyes widened slightly and her heartbeat quickened.

She did it!

"The sewing machine is a tool, and you are the operator. Your hands must be steady, your eyes must be accurate, and the fabric must be flat."

Halina bit her lip and followed the instructor's instructions, gently placing her hands on the fabric and carefully adjusting the direction of the fabric. She controlled the strength to make the fabric slide along the needle tip's trajectory without letting it deviate. She gradually mastered the rhythm of the pedal and slowly found the feeling of the strength of her hands.

Her mind flashed back to those long nights in the past when her mother taught her her first stitch in the dim light. She once thought that the skill of a weaver was to rely on her hands to feel the texture of the fabric and to sew stitch by stitch. Now her hands are still doing these things, but the tools have changed.

The machine was no longer her enemy, but her new hands.

Halina's fingers slowly left the fabric and she slowly exhaled, looking at the strips of fabric she had just sewn. The strips were so neat and smooth, and the stitches were even more even than those she had sewn by hand. She was shocked, but more of it was...excited.

"good."

The instructor nodded, but there was a glimmer of jealousy in her eyes as she discovered the presence on the stool faster than she had mastered it when she first came into contact with it.

But the mentor's reaction did not prevent Halina from finally realizing at this moment that she was still a weaver, but her world had changed.

However, what she didn't expect was that the intensity increased directly in the next second.

It feels like I just finished learning 1+1=2 and then started doing advanced math problems.

"Now, sew these pieces of fabric into a blouse."

Halina's heart suddenly tightened, and she subconsciously looked up at her instructor, who had a somewhat indifferent look on his face, as if she was just one of many weavers and it didn't matter whether she was qualified or not.

She quickly lowered her head and looked at the cloth on the table. The cloth had been cut into pieces and only needed to be pieced together according to the predetermined seams.

She took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down.

This was her chance, she couldn't mess it up!

Her fingers gently stroked the edge of the fabric, feeling the texture. Unlike the materials she had sewn in the past, this fabric was thinner and slightly elastic, which meant that if the strength was not controlled well, the stitches would easily go awry, or even cause wrinkles or be pulled out of shape.

Carefully, she placed the first piece of fabric under the presser foot of the sewing machine, adjusted the position to make sure the edges were aligned, then took another deep breath and pressed the pedal.

The needle dropped quickly, piercing the fabric, and the sewing machine made a low roar. She held the fabric with both hands, trying to keep it steady, but soon she found a problem.

She needs to control the pace!

Her heart beat faster and cold sweat slowly slid down her neck. She stared at every stitch on the fabric, trying her best to adjust the coordination of her hands and feet, being extremely careful with every move.

Time passed quietly as she concentrated on the work, and the fabric under her fingertips gradually became complete. When she stepped on the pedal for the last time and looked up, the first piece of fabric had been perfectly sewn together, with straight seams and neat edges.

She stared at her work in a daze, her fingertips trembling slightly, and an indescribable sense of accomplishment rose in her heart.

She did it!

She really did it!

She exhaled lightly and clenched her fingers, her palms already slightly sweaty.

However, before she could breathe a sigh of relief, the instructor's voice sounded coldly.

"It's too slow!" The instructor's voice suddenly sounded with a hint of dissatisfaction. "If you were making clothes at home, this speed would certainly be fine, but this is a factory, and the sewing time for each piece of clothing must be controlled within the standard range. Now, speed up! You must finish within the specified time."

After saying that, she placed an hourglass on the table, and the sand slowly fell, symbolizing the start of the countdown.

Halina pursed her lips and silently wiped the sweat from her palms. She knew that this was a real test and she had to meet the standards in terms of speed, accuracy and efficiency!

She can't fail!

She adjusted her sitting position, took a deep breath, and re-grasped the fabric with her fingers. Her eyes were firm, her heartbeat was steady, and her footwork was no longer hesitant. This time, she stepped on the pedal a little faster than before, but she remained cautious to ensure that the needle fell accurately. Her hands quickly adjusted the direction of the fabric to let it slide along the stitches to avoid deviation and wrinkles.

She gradually mastered the rhythm of the machine.

Her hands and feet gradually formed a tacit understanding, allowing the fabric to slide smoothly under the needle, and the stitching lines were steady and precise.

She once thought that the skill of a weaver is the talent and accumulation of the craftsman, the warmth of the hands touching the fabric, and the ingenuity of sewing stitch by stitch. Now, her hands are still doing these things, but the tools have changed. She no longer relies solely on her hands, but has learned how to control this steel creation, making it an extension of her and a part of her new skills.

She has begun to adapt to this change and she is already standing at the door of a new era!

As time passed, the sand in the hourglass gradually decreased, but her movements became smoother and smoother, and her eyes were no longer panicked, but focused and calm. Sweat oozed from her forehead, but her hands still held the cloth steadily. When she stepped on the pedal for the last time, cut the thread, and placed the sewn clothes on the table, she realized belatedly that only a little time had passed in the hourglass.

She was stunned for a moment, then suddenly looked up at the instructor, waiting for the decision.

The instructor picked up Halina's work, flipped through it, and her eyes changed slightly. A hint of surprise flashed across her eyes, but she quickly regained her composure.

"qualified."

Then he paused and added another sentence.

"reluctantly."

Halina knew she had done it! She had conquered the machine, she had successfully completed her assessment, and her world had completely changed. When she stood up and took a long breath, she realized that her legs were slightly numb and sweat was oozing from her back. She slowly moved her fingers and looked down at the top she had just sewn.

At this moment, she knew that she was still a weaver, but no longer the weaver who sewed cloth stitch by stitch by hand. Instead, she was a new-age weaver who could control machines and create efficiency!

She is not a poor person left behind by the times, but stands on the wave of the times. (End of this chapter)