Extra: The Conqueror's Code (1)

Pope? How many legions does he have?

– Von Kastein

The cold lizard walked through Aldolph's Arc de Triomphe Sigma with neat steps. For these bipedal cold-blooded creatures, either from the hot jungles of Lustria or the frigid wastes of Nagaronde, the mild climate of the Human Empire was unsuitable. But that didn't stop the Black Elf Knights, under the watchful eye of the so-called bipedal comet, to crush the last Rick Praetorian Guard of the Empire in one charge—like a routine hunt.

The Imperial army lined up on the Emperor's Avenue, and the human soldiers who swore allegiance to Emperor Franz looked silently at the conquerors, who would not talk a little nonsense even when they were marching, their stylish red and white checkered military uniforms in rags, and few of them stood alone. The former proud continental eagle emblem was thrown under the triumphal arch and was trampled by livestock. The Imperial army was exhausted, especially with the Emperor's head hanging in the Eternal Palace, and all fighting spirit was dissipated in the passing waves of the Rick River, which was the entrance to the Black Ark.

There was a black elf perched on top of this great building of one hundred and twenty meters. This symbolizes the close unity of the twelve autonomous states of the human empire. Marshal of the Truuzzi Expeditionary Legion, Narien Thornwhip gently caressed Dorifin's mount and patted a relatively soft scale next to its neck, and a calming magic was injected into the seven-year-old black dragon's body. Otherwise, the hurricane of the black dragon's vibrating wings would have overturned the group of weak prisoners of war below. "Among the lower races, it is indeed a human being who is the most capable of performing ceremonies!" He said to the adjutant.

Adjutant Stimmerch grinned mercilessly, "Yes, my lord, I heard that they have found a dwarven craftsman to commemorate the great battle that defeated us!" The lieutenant replied aloud as he struggled to control Pegasus so that it was not hit by the black dragon's impatiently waving wingtips.

"Looks like they've already carved the beginning!" The marshal said, and then his slender fingers flexed, and the triumphal arch, which had been repeatedly bombarded by black magic, suddenly rumbled and shook, and a certain enamel plate flew in its entirety, and the marshal's thumb pointed his chin, and muttered: "The art of mankind...... It's time to catch up with our sad distant relatives and tell me, what are the names of human beings for their 'works'? ”

"Dawn, Your Excellency." The adjutant explained. The black dragon descended, the marshal threw away the dragon reins, Dorifen obediently lay on his stomach, and the breath belonging to black magic instantly shocked the war horse to his knees, even if he was lying on his stomach, the shadow also overshadowed the triumphal arch. "Humanity commemorates important battles in their history, such as the Orc Roar Legion, the Vampire Scourge and the subsequent Chaos Annihilation, when Emperor Sigmar founded the country. The relief was cast, and this time the humans allied with the dwarves again, so it was the dwarven chief who pleased

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Master craftsman. "The marshal naturally has no interest in any in-depth knowledge of the race of the government, but the adjutant must always answer all the questions of the commander-in-chief, so it has always been a very difficult errand.

"Ah, dwarves." The marshal held the thorny sword behind his head and lowered his head slightly, and whenever the marshal habitually knocked on the hilt of the sword, the indelible smell of iron and blood seeped out. This bayonet is one of the few things that the marshal has in common with other Black Elf commanders. He is not known to the world as the thin, high-nosed, crazy, bloodthirsty Truzi. The contours of his face and muscular physique, which resemble Azulshaw, unexpectedly favored the Witch King, and carried the will of steel. "Dwarves, well, these gnomes hiding in the deep mountains and old forests are our next target, aren't they, but things have to be taken step by step, and the humans will be dealt with first."

The breeze stopped, and a sudden silence enveloped it, and the tassels outside Narien's purple-black cloak dragged around the side of his boots. Truth be told, ever since the Witch King bestowed him a black dragon and promoted him to the rank of commander of the expeditionary legion, he has broken through the High Elf of Tarl Anlek, swept across the shores of Bretonnia, and taken entire cities and villages into slavery and sent them to Nagarond. Adolf is not the beginning, nor the end, nor the pinnacle. It's just a slightly complicated journey. The marshal thought.

The man waiting in the shadow of the black dragon took a few steps forward and saluted the marshal, and the warlocks recorded a moment of history for humanity, and the magic crystal illuminated the human's smoke-covered face. "Great Marshal, you conquered Adolf." He bowed his head, but said steadily and politely. Calmly not like words.

Narien suddenly admired the Imperial. "Good day, Elector Boris Todd Bringer" Marshal even added a suffix, and returned the salute. As a soldier, it was the last time to express respect for the enemy who fought to the end.

Narien admires this stubborn old man, after all, there are very few people in the entire human empire who can fight with the legions under Narien's command, but private is private, Narien adheres to the absolute will of the Witch King, and he keeps it in mind from beginning to end. "Your Excellency the Elector, have you signed the documents for the surrender of the Imperial Army to the High Witch King of Durussy?"

"Yes, on behalf of the Emperor, the Pope of the Sigmar Church, I sign the instrument of surrender." Todd Bringle held up the gilt scroll that had been clutching in his hand beside the scabbard, but he paused before offering it to Narien. "I would like your permission to make a short address to the soldiers."

"Please, Your Excellency the Elector." Narien bowed his head slightly. As a conqueror, Narien could certainly be magnanimous. Looking at the Elector's obviously stiff and stiff shoulders, Narien naturally remembered that even if he was about to be sacrificed by the Witch of Death, he still maintained his demeanor

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King of Bretonnia – Lawne Cornwall. There is no reason why a king should be allowed to speak to his subjects and speak against an elector.

"Thank you." Todd Bringle nodded stiffly. "I will say, then, that the terms of surrender I have been forced to accept are too harsh for both the Empire and the soldiers I have fought until yesterday."

Narien sneered, his words appropriate, but no more gentle. "What do you say, it's the right I gave you." His voice of answer was louder than the dragon's breath. "I must remind you that I have done my utmost to dispose of you and your men, and I risk being reported to the Witch King by the Witch Maidens. Remember, it was a mercy that when Bretonnia surrendered, all the Bretonnian nobles, knights, and priests were sacrificed to the Most Holy Kane. I dare say that you and your Emperor did not expect us to stand here, but I have every right and ability to dispose of you and your army as sacrifices. ”

Todd Bringle blushed. "As a group of sacrifices, we also let you go without food!"

"Maybe." Narien still maintained etiquette. I'm disgusted, maybe the Witch King shouldn't have been generous enough to have so much freedom from the merged Azul clan that it affected the army. But then he cleared up the ominous thought. However, he didn't say that Narien would rather fight ten head-to-head battles with the Imperial Guard than deal with the human rebels who were still harassing the supply lines. "I've changed my mind."

Todd Bringle had to slowly unfold the scroll. Narien's marshal's guard immediately hurried to raise their halberds, and the Black Guard's halberd lay across the Elector's head. The Elector read the surrender in a hoarse voice, and when he unsheathed his sword and bowed down to hand it to Narien, the old Elector, who had worked hard for the Human Empire all his life, could no longer stand up.

Narien took the sword and examined the artifact, wrapped in a kraken's skin and forged from Akashi by the dwarven rune master. For Narien, it is indeed a rare divine weapon, but it is just enough to enter the threshold of the Witch King's treasury.

"Good day. Elector. "Narien and Todd Bringle saluted each other one last time, and a Black Elf officer took the empty-handed Elector of the Empire to a prisoner of war camp, a building that was quickly emptied.

The marshal rode on the back of the dragon, Doriffin roared and rushed into the sky, and the loud and hideous roar of the dragon spread throughout the capital of the human empire, Adolf. The Imperial Eagle Banner descends from the Arc de Triomphe of Sigmar, the Eternal Palace, and the Tower of the Battlemage, and the Black Flag of the Witch King is raised.

PS: This is the world setting of Warhammer 2 Total War, and five or six chapters will be written one after another.

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