Since the beginning of winter, the land of Nagaros has entered a long snow season, and the heavy snow has been flowing all day long, covering the wounds of the earth torn by chaos, and the white expanse of the moorland tundra, the crimson of the rolling Titan peaks reflected in the silvery snow. The spires, streets, and eaves of the city of Truuzzi are covered with white and soft snowflakes, which no longer seem so cold and unforgiving.

Eliden got up and left the garden, and in the empty corridor, the sound of steady footsteps and the calm voice of his master were deeply reflected in Hemer's heart, "It's not that no one forbids death at midnight, but the price they pay is unimaginable. The lords who did so either disappeared into thin air or were hung on the gates of the Temple of Kane. Even if you survive, without the empress's pardon, you are in rebellion. ”

"But if Lord Hemmer insists on forbidding it, I will do my best."

Hemmer stopped at the gate of the garden. The vast snow fluttered in front of him, repeatedly drowning the world in front of him.

Enlisting Elaidon's support was crucial to her plans, as she was not only the strongest sorceress in the army, but also the most prestigious outside of herself. With her joining, at least it can deter most of the soldiers in the army.

The last thing Hemmer wants is a mutiny in the army, and the dark elves have always obeyed the orders of the superiors, which is very unlikely to happen, but once it happens, it is irreversible.

In order to ensure that there would be no mutiny, Hemmer recruited the third rank of the army, Kehir and Anzales, and informed them of his plan.

Sure enough, as a professional soldier, although Kehir was stunned, he made it clear that he was firmly on the side of the lord.

Several people gathered in the lord's room to plan how to deal with the impending midnight of death.

Time passes in an eerie everyday atmosphere.

Finally, the day of midnight of death came.

The once-bustling Iron Thorn Town suddenly fell into a deathly silence.

The bleak streets were deserted, and even the soldiers and guards who usually patrolled were gone.

Families closed their doors and windows, inlaid nails in their windows, blocked their doors with furniture, and knelt before Kane's shrine to ask for salvation and mercy from the gods of the world.

In the midst of this slaughter, only the gate of the temple of Kane in the town was open, and hundreds of Kane brides, witch spirits, sharpened their knives, restlessly awaited the annual Truszi purge plan.

Once night falls, regardless of race, identity, or status, all creatures seen are dead souls under the sword.

Winter sunsets come faster than ever, and at about six o'clock in the evening, Ironsphorn is plunged into the darkness of the night. Tiny snowflakes fluttered in the air, and everyone in the main city could hear the screams and laughter of the priests and witches in the temple of Kane in the distance.

The night of the killing came.

Both the Dark Elf townsfolk and the High Elf slaves huddled in their homes, panicked.

The silence was broken by a sinister laugh, and dagger-wielding witches spread out into the city like wolves.

They screamed and slammed open the gates, rushed into the homes of the commoners, dragged the whole family out without saying a word, the slaves and masters were dragged out into the streets to be mercilessly killed, and the excited witches grabbed the bloody heads, strung them together with iron hooks and hung them on their belts, and looked more and more frenzied.

The sounds of begging for mercy and wailing intersected irregularly in the night.

Hundreds of innocent townsfolk were driven to the temple of Kane, watching in horror as the priests on the altar extolled Kane's greatness, taking the lives of acquaintances with daggers and halberds and offering them to the god of the Bloody Hand.

The high gods they prayed to never reached out to save anyone, but on the contrary, took countless lives.

The fate of most of the low-level civilians is to be sacrificed to win Kane's pleasure.

This is why the Dark Elves are far more likely to die at the hands of their own people than at the hands of their cousins, the High Elves.

...

All the lights in the lord's manor were lit, and the surrounding fires seemed to be lit in a blue ocean.

Breathing into the palm of his hand, the heavily armed Hemmer stood on the arched bridge of the tower of the Lord's Manor, overlooking the pitch-black army waiting in the courtyard below.

The wind of frost and snow blew through the formation, the crimson of thousands of torches reflected the armor of the soldiers, and the unusually well-defined faces of the dark elves reflected the bronze fire.

Thousands of dark elf soldiers stood proudly in the wind and snow under the leadership of their respective nobles, the deep ice of the damp July day, the terror in the darkness, and the bronze statue of the desert wind that could not be swept away.

In the morning, they were informed by their chief of the purpose of their gathering for tonight, and they all looked up at the tower, wanting to see their lordship.

Once the army was sent to suppress Death Midnight, the consequences would be unimaginable, and Hemmer didn't know what he would face, but he had to.

Looking up, the dark mountains of the world, the starry sky, all of which have faded away from the snow-capped deep blue world, delicate but cold, only the sound of the wind and the breath of oneself are left on the tower.

As long as he gives the order, the soldiers below who have been waiting for a long time will go to the soup for him.

As he was thinking this, he felt someone standing behind him, and the footsteps were very soft.

Elaidon, who was dressed in a trench coat, held a staff in one hand, with an extremely cold temperament, her complexion looked excessively pale in the firelight, her shining black hair was also covered with white frost, and her voice was as cool as an ice fountain: "Lord Hemer, have you thought about it?" Once you do it, there's no turning back. ”

"All the inhabitants and slaves of Ironsphorn are my people, and no one can take their lives in the name of God."

Even with 120,000 hesitations and hesitations in my heart, I could not watch my subjects being dragged to the altar like lambs to the slaughter. The air was cold, his fingers were cold, and Hemmer slowly pulled out the long sword at his waist.

"Have you figured out the cost of doing this? By doing so, you are challenging the authority of Kane's faith, and if you fail to obtain the amnesty of the Empress and the Witch King, you will be tantamount to rebellion. ”

"So, will you support me if I defect?"

"Yes." Eliden didn't hesitate to respond.

"Why?" Hemmer was stunned, he turned his head to look at the sorceress and looked at her in silence, not daring to take it lightly.

Eliden also said casually: "You want to rebel, it's good." It looks like you really listened to what I told you that day. It's okay that life is too boring anyway. Always under the control of the empress, the constant restraint makes people breathless, and sometimes it is really not as easy as a dead man. If you can indulge once before you die, and do a sensational event, it will not be in vain in this life. ”

Her words didn't arouse Hemer's suspicions, after all, he understood that she was such a person.

Hurmer's pale lips showed a wanton smile, "Then let's take a gamble." ”

Hemmer admitted that he had gambling elements in this wave, but after comprehensive analysis, the probability of being held accountable is not large.

In the entire Dark Elf Realm, there are only two people who can hold him accountable.

One of them was his immediate boss, Moras.

Moras stands on the side of the Pleasure Sect that is suppressed by Kane's faith, worships Slaanesh, and she will most likely not be angry about her own targeting Kane's faith, and will even let herself do it as a play.

The second is the Witch King of the Dark Elves, Malekith.

Malekis had publicly emphasized his dislike of excessive killing at midnight of death, but Kane's faith was the foundation of his faith rule, so Hermmer's attitude was uncertain. Therefore, it is all up to the witch king to ask whether he is guilty or not.

In fact, even if the Witch King really wants to punish himself, Hemmer is not without a way out.

He had already thought about this, first of all, the Witch King himself was far away in Nagarond in the far north, and the province of Quintex where he was located was the southernmost territory of the Dark Elves, and the distance between the two was too far, and secondly, the relationship between Moras and the Witch King had not been repaired, and if he wanted to send an army to suppress him, he had to pass the pass of Moras first. Even if the army arrives in the province of Quintex, as long as he leads the army into the chaotic Lustria, the emperor is far away, and he will not be subject to the orders of the foreign monarch.

All in all, the biggest possibility is nothing more than a few verbal punishments, which are not as serious as Eliden said. The reason why she said this was to encourage herself to rebel and become independent.

Thinking about the consequences, Hemmer finally drew his sword and walked towards the balcony. Thousands of eyes converged on him. Hemmer took two steps forward, stepped into the snow as well, and raised his sword: "I think you already know why I summoned you at this time. There were only a few people here who had come with me from Hiradro Tar, and most of them were Ironthorn natives. Do you hear the screams coming from the city? ”

"Those witches are slaughtering your family, friends, neighbors, everyone you know may not survive tonight. I don't know what you guys think, but I can't tolerate a bunch of crazy women killing at will on my territory. I have to make them pay, make them unforgettable, and make them remember this day forever! ”

There was silence below, and although many soldiers were moved, no one stood up to take the lead.

Melting snowflakes moistened Hermer's hair and cheeks and flowed into his eyes. Unable to wipe it with his hands, he said calmly, "I am a member of Truuzzi and your lord. I am willing to give my life for this land, and for anyone on it. All your actions tonight are borne by me, and all the blame is up to me, and now, follow me to kill those crazy women! ”

Kehir and Anzales stepped forward, facing the soldiers, drawing their swords and shouting, "Go!" ”

As the warriors echoed, thousands of soldiers poured out of the lord's manor in a frenzy, rushing towards the chaotic town of Ironthorn.