Warhammer: Dark Elf

The army of ratmen of the Scurvy Clan in the west is like a large rolling black wave. The slave rats let out a piercing scream and moved quickly and ferociously on the plains on all fours, fighting with the infantry followers of Bretonnia in the east. Stacked together, they cover all the twilight in sight. Almost the moment the two armies came into contact, a large area of ​​blood flashed out. For a moment, screams, shouts of death, clashes of weapons, and dimensional gunshots were all mixed together. Various magical sounds were more like ships exploding on the bottom of the sea, blooming brilliantly under the night filled with death.

Countless Skaven poured out of the forest. Their presence all over the mountains and plains would bring despair to any army that dared to face the rat tide, but only the Bretonnians who were full of honor could not be shaken.

In Bretonnia, the Lady of the Lake invisibly inspired all patriotic warriors, even the weakest old farmer. If she gave him a spear and asked him to push it forward, he would definitely do it, while holding on to hope and praying devoutly.

The shadows in the night are like the scythe swung by Maul, the god of death, harvesting the fragile lives of mortals.

Endless slave rats and the Bretonnian Infantry Regiment fought fiercely and risked their lives. The difficulty of the battle was unexpected by both parties.

Behind the slave rats, on a low hill with a good view, Cruikshak ordered several dimensional gun teams to set up long rifle barrels and aim at the place where the Bretonnians were the most. Deafening gunshots were heard one after another, and the high-speed bullets fired by the guns were made of exquisite warpstones, enough to penetrate shields, breastplates, or body parts of a heavily armored knight. At the same time, because of the poison of the warpstones, such as these glowing Green bullets can cause considerable damage if they penetrate or embed themselves in flesh.

As soon as the ultra-long-range Dimensional Gun entered the battlefield, the Borodele Infantry Regiment suffered heavy losses. The only good news was that many of the slave rats opposite them were also unlucky enough to be shot by their own people.

Compared with the powerful long-range firepower of the Skaven, which has the dimensional lance, Bretonnia's archery regiments are all composed of serfs summoned temporarily. The noble knights disdain to use long-range weapons, but they have to rely on the formations shot by these old farmers. A hail of arrows killed and wounded the enemy.

The shooting skills of the old farmers may not be as good as the longbowmen that the high elves and wood elves are proud of, and their equipment is not as sophisticated as the crossbowmen of the dark elves, but under the leadership of the lord, they have high morale, and they are also a team. A powerful long-range unit.

Determined to defend their homeland, these old farmers braved the dimensional bombs that missed them, stretched their bows and threw them upwards, killing and injuring the rat-man forwards.

Suddenly, a strange sound of bells resounded in the army of rat men, as if some huge creature with high status came out from behind, and the clan rats who were waiting in full formation made way for them one after another.

In everyone's eyes, a large chariot covered with spikes slowly appeared on the battlefield carrying an ominous giant bell. The huge rat troll squatted on the platform and pulled the rope in his claws hard, playing A strange bell rings.

Dressed in rags, holding a staff, and with crazy eyes, the gray prophet of the plague system stood on the giant clock and loudly announced the will of the Great Horned Rat in the language of the Skaven.

The Screaming Knell is an unholy war altar dedicated to the Horned Rat. The ominous bells above can not only stir up the evil in the hearts of the Skaven, but also awaken the fear in the hearts of the enemies.

The appearance of the Gray Prophet triggered a frenzy of rats. The deadly disease was released with a wave of the staff in his hand. The air was filled with plague and destruction. As the favorable wind carried it to the Bretonnian camp, more and more soldiers were covered in hideous growths. The horrible herpes plague, followed by suffocation in the lungs, foaming at the mouth and falling in a pool of blood.

The Bretonnian army continued to suffer heavy losses. Fortunately, Alberic had several prophetesses with powerful magic power, and their continuous prayers brought the goddess's miracles to save the lives of many soldiers.

The slow sea breeze blew from a distance and lifted the manes of the war horses, but it was completely unable to shake these trained mounts. They paved the soil with their front hooves restlessly, just like the heroic masters on their backs, eager to fight.

The infantry followers who served as the vanguard and the old farmers of Baator formed a local formation and were already fighting fiercely with the rat men. Every moment, large numbers of figures fell in large numbers. Archduke Alberic rode the mighty Dunpet, standing on a high hill. Above, a long blue cloak carries black hair hanging down on the back of the vulture.

Tompert was the Archduke's personal vulture and had accompanied him since he was a young knight. He was a particularly formidable creature among this formidable species, standing out like a chicken among a group of armored warhorses.

Grand Duke Alberic was a man of perseverance and calmness, with a view of the overall situation, and he loved his people. King Raun once said of him that he was as steady as the endless sea and as moving as the roaring wind.

Seeing the Skaven's notorious Dimensional Gun Carrier Team and the Gray Prophets joining the battlefield one after another, the Archduke knew it was time to launch a stormy charge and annihilate the enemy in one fell swoop.

Dunpete stretched his wings, and the Grand Duke put on the noble helmet of the Holy Grail Knight, quickly climbed onto his horse, drew his sword and shouted loudly to the majestic Kingdom Knights behind him, "Be fearless in front of the enemy. Be brave, upright, and square." Be loved by the gods. Be truthful and die without regrets. Protect the helpless and give your life for the lady and the king. Now is the time to fulfill our oath. Follow me and grind these filthy ratmen into dust. !”

With the echo that resounded throughout the battlefield, Archduke Alberic flew into the sky on Tompetgo, leading thousands of knights below to launch a frightening charge towards the rat army, with swords reaching as far as the Gray Prophet.

The knights of Bretonnia live for their country, live with honor, and die for their ladies. They do not hesitate, as they should, lead the way, and always go to their destined death with the utmost calmness.

This fertile land is the home they strive for.

Everyone has a reason that they must fight for. On the road to successive wars, the reason for fighting is always so simple.

With a body like a tiger and a heart like glass, if you fight for your beliefs, you will not be afraid of being buried in the battlefield. This is the way of knighthood advocated by the Bretonnian knights.

The strongest among them, the Holy Grail Knight is the strongest form a good person can achieve in the medieval world. Each Holy Grail Knight is a legend that is the most ordinary but is better than ten thousand epics.

Nothing can stir the heartstrings of Bretonnians more than a Holy Grail Knight personally leading an army to charge. The originally defeated infantry regiment had to rush forward even if it dragged its seriously injured body. Even some fanatical Bretonnians The old farmer also gathered the remains of a dead Holy Grail Knight and joined the charge.

The ground shook violently, and the slave rats were quickly defeated. Their bodies were pierced by spears and trampled to pulp by thousands of horse hooves. Even the more well-trained clan rats behind them could not stop the desperate charge of the Bretonnian knights. The military formation Killed like paper.

Crookshak also made a desperate move and ordered all Storm Rats to join the battlefield, but faced Bretonnia's unstoppable iron hoof, they were far behind in terms of momentum and strength.

Meanwhile, Helmer and Eladen, riding black steeds, are forced into the center of a meat grinder-like battlefield.

In front of me, countless Storm Rats came screaming and screaming with halberds. Behind them, the knights of Bretonnia were galloping in an earth-shattering manner. The hem of Hemer's armor was even lifted by the strong wind they brought. Sound.

If Hemo still had a glimmer of hope at the beginning, his heart felt cold at this moment.

He did not expect Alberic's army to appear here, and he overestimated one person's mobility on the battlefield. He and Eladen were too insignificant in front of the army, like a drop in the ocean.

Looking at the endless battlefield, a deep sense of self-blame and powerlessness flooded into Helmer's heart. His wisdom was misled by his wisdom. His previous words came true, but he did not expect that he would be the one to experience retribution.

Besieged on all sides, the dark horse sitting down was on the verge of exhaustion, snorting heavily. Hemo avoided the most intense battle, trying to protect it as much as possible, but there were so many ratmen that in the chaos, The dark horse still suffered a lot of damage. Not long after, a halberd that came out of nowhere struck the horse's leg. Blood spattered everywhere and the dark horse fell down with a cry.

Helmer and Eladen fell to the ground before they could react. Scarlet blood sprayed onto Helmer's black armor and dyed Eladen's clothes red. Since he became the Lord of Fear, Hemer has experienced countless battles with this dark horse. At this time, his chest is full of anger: "Damn mouse!!"

Without giving him a chance to vent, countless ratmen suddenly surrounded him with spears and halberds. Hemer drew his sword and fought back, killing the ratmen who rushed up one by one. He just waved the Lord's Sword, Protecting Eladen behind them, they stabbed viciously at every enemy that attacked them.

The rapidly changing situation made it impossible for Eladen to concentrate large-scale death magic with peace of mind, and could only release some small magic points to kill the clan rats that rushed forward rashly.

The two faced a steady stream of clan rat troops, and Hemer's physical strength gradually became exhausted. And every time he saw the blood of those rat men being stabbed by swords, his mind was approaching the edge of collapse.

Too many people died on the battlefield. The noisy sounds of horns and iron horses intertwined in the ears. The cold wind came from the other end of the battlefield, rolling up the sound of fear and raising the ear-piercing roar, blowing away the clouds in the sky. Hemo's muffled groan disappeared.

At some point, he was stabbed and almost dropped the sword in his hand. After a few seconds, bright red liquid flowed out along the edge of the armor, gradually dyeing the entire leggings and boots red.

Eladen behind him had exhausted all his magic power, but there were still countless ratmen coming to kill like crazy. The sorceress looked at Hemer's side face and smiled miserably, "It looks like we are going to die here. Homer.”

"We're not going to die here, absolutely not, believe me."

Suddenly, Helmer turned around and stared at Eladen seriously. The dim light of the death magic shone on his face. His skin was pale and his eyes were dark blue, like bottomless pools.

"I'll get you out alive, no matter what the cost!"

At this moment, Eladen was suddenly stunned. Facing Hemo's resolute expression, she thought that the world was boring anyway, and it would be nice if she could die with the one she loved.

Suddenly, just when Eladen had this idea, an endless purple mist emerged from Hemo's body, swallowing the two of them instantly and covering the area.

Through the thick fog, she could not clearly see Hemo's appearance. She could only vaguely see a huge figure dozens of meters tall slowly walking out of the fog.

When she walked out of the mist and passed in front of him, Eladen saw clearly that the figure was actually a chilling demon of Slaanesh. Half of her cheeks were a ferocious demonic face, and the other half was a beautiful white jade woman.

The posture of Yisi's steps was like that of the most noble goddess under the night. She was dressed in graceful and elegant clothes. She raised her head slightly and spared Eladen, who was stunned in place, with nothing in his eyes.

The double-faced king walked in the army of extremely fearful ratmen, ruthlessly causing a bloody storm, and elegantly slaughtered like a charming war dance. Wherever the sharp blade passed, not a single ratman under his feet died completely, either without a head or a body. There was only a head and no limbs, the intestines were pierced and the belly was broken, the minced meat was scattered everywhere, and the strong smell of blood filled the air.

Es pinched the neck of a storm rat and saw that it was struggling. He said gently like a doctor extracting teeth for a child: "What a fragile and ugly creature. Why do you want to live in the world? Don't move, otherwise it will happen." It's ugly to die." Then with a click, he lightly crushed the opponent's neck and threw it to his feet like a dead dog.

"If you want to survive, just follow me, mortal." Yis turned around and chuckled at the tiny Eladen, and his voice echoed repeatedly in the sorceress's ears, "Your lover brother has been resisting, my time Not much."