Travel through time and become a member of the Warhammer Empire

Twenty years ago, in the northern mountains of Naggaroth.

The Northern Kingdoms of the entire world are facing a problem: the constant incursion of Chaos.

In the north of Zhendan, there are the Kurgan people who were blessed by chaos. They constantly attack the entire northern part of the Celestial Empire. There are even records of Changyuan being captured in history, including the self-destruction of Changyuan.

To the north of the Empire are the terrifying Norscans, but fortunately, the alliance formed by the Empire and Kislev jointly resists the threat from the north.

To the north of Naggaroth were the vast and endless Huns.

The Huns did not keep any promises or treaties, and were known for their treachery and killing each other, as well as anyone else they encountered.

They are also the most difficult enemy of the Dark Elves.

Perhaps in the records of the High Elves, they were full of contempt and hatred for their Dark Elf cousins.

But what is unquestionable is that in the fight against the Chaos invasion, the Dark Elves' contribution on the front battlefield far exceeds that of the High Elves.

The Dark Elves are not like Kislev, who have the support of the entire Empire and Bretonnia.

The dark elves are not like the Aurora, which has tall and long walls to defend against the threat of the entire northern wasteland.

They didn't have much. In the snowy mountains in the north of Naggaroth was a black tower built by slaves.

On each mountain, there is a tall tower every few hundred meters, which together form a Chaos outpost against the north.

When the Huns invade, thick smoke will be burning in the sentry tower. When the Huns invade with demons, the sentry tower will release magic missiles. When Chaos invades, every dark elf soldier in the sentry tower is ready.

"intelligence!"

Mousse quickly scanned the strategic deployment map on the table. The black towers marked on it were most likely ignited by thick smoke.

Outside the door, the dark elf rider riding the cold lizard ran in quickly and placed the map in his hand in front of Mousse.

It was placed in front of the supreme commander under the black tower.

The situation on the map is not optimistic.

A large number of Hun troops had gathered outside the checkpoint guarded by Mousse, with more than thirty formations detected in frontal reconnaissance alone.

There are only eight formations left on our side that can still fight.

The Dark Elves were accustomed to forming a formation of 90 people, while the Huns were accustomed to forming a formation of 120 people.

Even if every dark elf is a brave warrior, they cannot overcome such a large number gap.

If they fight, there is still a chance of victory. If they flee, the Witch King Malekith will kill all deserters.

There is no tactical space at the moment. Looking at the men under his command, Mousse is ready for the final mobilization.

"Three hundred years ago, my family was just like yours, a commoner without any noble status to speak of."

"But now, I can command you as the Lord of Terror and lead you under the name of Fang Shield. Why?"

"It was precisely because of the Chaos invasion three hundred years ago that my family fought bloody battles against the Chaos, fighting one against a hundred enemies and defending the fortress, that we were able to be promoted from a commoner to a noble."

"Are there many enemies? Of course there are, that's perfect! On average, everyone can get more honor and military merit!"

"Hold your weapons, hold your shields tightly, all Dark Swordsmen! All Dread Spearmen! All Black Crossbowmen! Be prepared for defense, hold the line!"

"If anyone flees now, he will be executed according to military law!"

After a series of speeches that combined kindness and severity, Mousse had successfully stabilized the morale of all the troops, allowing them to remain calm despite the huge disparity in numbers.

But as the battle progresses, this unbridgeable gap in numbers will torment every dark elf soldier who is still fighting.

I am afraid that before they can achieve their killing goal, all the troops will flee in a chain reaction.

Whether he loses the fight or escapes, there is only one ending left for Mousse, and that is death.

Dying in battle would be slightly better, at least the Witch King Malekith would not deprive him of the honor and fame of his Norstair family.

"Weapons, equipment, and clothing."

Inside the room, Mousse had already put on his plate armor lining. After he shouted loudly, the slave hiding in the corner immediately ran out.

Regardless of the shackles on their hands and feet, in order to avoid being whipped, they put armor on Mousse as quickly as possible.

The left foot and the right foot were lifted up one by one, and the plate boots that had been wiped clean were put on by Mousse. It can be seen that the slaves took good care of them.

Then the slaves knelt on the ground and put plate armor on Mousse's calves and joints, tying them tightly with cowhide to ensure that they would not fall off.

Then Mousse opened his arms, and several slaves came over carrying heavy waist armor, put the plate armor apron on Mousse, and adjusted the direction.

The potion and dagger were hung on his waist.

Without lowering his hands, the extremely sturdy plate armor was directly installed on Mousse's chest, fitting perfectly from front to back, and bound on the outside with two leather belts.

The main function of these two belts is to fix the direction of the shoulder armor.

After decades of fighting, the Dread Lord had long been accustomed to the weight of the plate armor. He moved his shoulders slightly and found it was not bad.

Seeing that Armor was completed, the slaves picked up their anklets and handcuffs and retreated back into the shadows.

He picked up the hand armor and wrist guards on the table and installed them on his arms one by one.

A full set of plate armor is ready.

He grabbed the sword with his right hand and hung it around his waist, while he picked up the metal mask with his left hand and put it on his face.

The humble butler was already standing at the door, kneeling on the ground, holding the shield above his head.

As Mousse walked to the door, picked up the shield and hung it behind him, the Lord of Dread had already completed putting on all his armor.

Because of the upcoming war, the dark elf soldiers outside the tent were still a little uneasy.

They are all new recruits and have only recently joined Mousse.

"Damn it, all the veterans have been transferred away, and now there are only new recruits. They can't fully exert their combat effectiveness."

Mousse, who was standing on a high place, just took a glance, and the morale of the soldiers below was immediately boosted. It always made people feel at ease to see the lord fighting alongside them.

The lord will naturally use the soldiers around him to cover himself, or simply to absorb damage.

"Hello, Lord of Dread. I have come to support the fortress you are stationed at by order of the Witch King."

A clear voice carrying the most terrifying chill of Naggaroth came from beside her. Mousse knew who had come to her side without looking back.

"A dark sorceress? I'm a little disappointed. To deal with the Hun army wearing leather armor, I would rather have a fire sorceress."

"Respected Lord of Dread, are you mocking me or are you just an idiot when it comes to magic."