Middenheim, Temple of Ulric.
It was already deep into the night.
Blazing flames burned fiercely, illuminating every corner of the Temple of Ulric. The city lay in complete silence—aside from the occasional soldier patrolling the streets with a torch in hand, there was no sign of anyone else. The temple guards stood motionless, when suddenly, a drifting figure silently emerged from the shadows.
As a magical breeze swept through, a drowsy mist enveloped the guards, causing them to close their eyes and fall unconscious to the ground. The shadowy figure stepped over the fallen soldiers and approached the grand entrance of the temple. He reached out and pushed open the heavy doors, stepping into the vast, empty hall of the Temple of Ulric.
Before him burned the Holy Flame of Ulric, roaring up through the ceiling of the temple, lighting the entire city—a sacred fire, the divine protection of Ulric himself.
The shadow strode forward and then stopped—because before the holy flame stood a towering figure.
"You damned elf mongrel, so you've come after all."
Duanmu Huai narrowed his eyes, murderous intent flashing within them. He gripped the warhammer in his hand and glared coldly at the intruder before him—an elf, clad in the magnificent robes of an archmage and holding a staff. He was none other than Teclis, commander of the High Elves' Mage Council.
This was precisely the information Alisara had given Duanmu Huai: tonight, while the Allied Army was marching out of Middenheim, Teclis would sneak into the Temple of Ulric to steal the Holy Flame and use it to resurrect his brother, Tyrion.
Duanmu Huai had no reason to doubt Alisara's intelligence. In fact, the moment he heard it, he knew it had to be true. In the game, the fall of Middenheim had always been a mystery—no one ever knew why Ulric's Holy Flame went out. But now, Duanmu Huai knew the answer.
These filthy elf bastards!
Duanmu Huai clenched his warhammer tighter, staring coldly at Teclis.
"You and your kin are all the same—despicable, vile. The Holy Flame of Ulric is not something a filthy alien like you can defile. Get out of here now, or I'll kill you where you stand."
Duanmu Huai had never liked those pointy-eared freaks. Whether they were elves or aeldari, to him, they were all the same.
"I will not leave," Teclis said, raising his staff, eyes filled with unshakable resolve.
"For my brother's sake, I must claim the Holy Flame of Ulric. You cannot stop me."
"Then I'll just kill you first, and afterward destroy that filthy nest of yours completely!"
Duanmu Huai sneered at Teclis's threat. Ridiculous. He had destroyed Ulthuan before—what was a mere island to him? No race that dared threaten humanity could ever walk away unscathed. None!
"You'll soon learn the terror of the Inquisition, you pointy-eared scum. I'll tear off your head myself and bring it to Ulthuan so they can see what becomes of a thieving rat!"
With a roar, Duanmu Huai leapt forward, raising his warhammer high and bringing it down on Teclis!
"...!!!"
Teclis said nothing, but he could feel the killing intent, death, and destruction emanating from this terrifying foe. He gripped his staff in his left hand and drew a blade with his right. At once, the Winds of Magic gathered around him, forming a roaring tempest that surged toward Duanmu Huai.
But it was useless. Black flames erupted like a tidal wave, obliterating the elven magic and transforming into a draconic claw that lashed toward Teclis. Seeing this, Teclis's eyes widened; he hurriedly leapt back and struck the ground with his staff.
"Boom!!!"
Pure magical fire burst forth beneath his feet, taking the form of a blazing phoenix. With a sharp cry, it spread its wings and rushed to meet the foe. The next moment, the phoenix of magic clashed with the black infernal beast. Duanmu Huai advanced with heavy steps, swung his warhammer down, and shattered the fiery phoenix into fragments. He raised his head; the red glow burning within his black helmet's eyes flared like blood as he charged at Teclis.
"You don't understand at all!"
Teclis swung his staff again, magic bursting from his hands, forming anew.
"This world needs heroes! The ancient gods cannot defeat the Dark Gods!"
"That's not for you to decide, you pointy-eared bastard!"
Duanmu Huai ignored the elf's spell, lunging forward and smashing down his warhammer.
"The fate of mankind will be decided by mankind alone—not by despicable alien races like yours!"
"You're destroying the world!"
"And who the hell do you think you are?!"
Explosive magical energy slammed into Duanmu Huai, but he charged through it, bursting past force strong enough to topple an ancient tree, and reached Teclis. His warhammer came crashing down. Teclis, panicked, raised his sword to block—but the next instant, the warhammer struck, shattering his blade into splinters. The shockwave blasted him off his feet, slamming him hard into the wall.
"You… you don't understand what you're doing…"
Teclis staggered upright, his left arm limp and useless. He bit his lip, glaring at Duanmu Huai.
"You humans are a cursed race! You chase selfish ambition and glory while ignoring the world itself! You cannot see that your actions bring only ruin! Such a world will not last!"
"Perhaps. But that's humanity's problem."
Duanmu Huai strode toward him, footsteps heavy and resolute, his eyes unwavering.
"The so-called cursed, decaying race you speak of has survived for countless ages—and it will continue to exist. Whether humanity ends in ruin or rises to glory, that is our choice. We need no guidance from outsiders, no alien race to tell us how to live. Elf or Chaos God—it's all the same. Humanity's destiny will be decided by humanity alone. Even if the road leads to destruction, it's not for your kind to object!"
"You madman—!!"
Teclis roared, raising his staff. Magic flames erupted again, surging toward Duanmu Huai. But soon, within the swirling black fire, his magic collapsed. Duanmu Huai swung his warhammer once more—it tore through the flames and struck Teclis squarely in the chest. His staff shattered; with a cry of agony, Teclis was driven into the wall like a nail.
Duanmu Huai reached out and grabbed his head.
"You… you dare kill me? The High Elves will—"
"I don't care."
With a sharp twist, Duanmu Huai wrenched his head clean off and tossed it aside. The headless corpse slumped to the ground, blood spraying—but to Duanmu Huai, it was nothing.
"Hah…"
The flames of Ulric surged even higher, blazing brighter than before. Duanmu Huai turned his head to see a colossal ice wolf step forth from the fire, bowing before him.
"Thank you for your aid, God of Destruction."
"You're welcome. It's the duty of the Inquisition, White Wolf."
Duanmu Huai nodded slightly to the divine beast before him.
"The fate of mankind must be decided by mankind. Any alien race that dares to meddle in it will find only death—no matter how noble their reason may sound. That is no excuse for interference."
"The elves have lost their minds," said the old White Wolf, glancing at Teclis's lifeless head on the floor.
"They've lost their honor, drowned in fear, despair, and lies. But… this isn't over yet."
"Then let's deal with what's in front of us before worrying about the rest."
Duanmu Huai had no intention of overthinking it. His true goal lay with the Chosen of the Chaos God, but since the White Wolf was here, there was no harm in discussing things clearly.
"White Wolf," Duanmu Huai said, looking at the god before him. "I don't know if you're aware, but beneath the Holy Flame lies a sealed relic—something terrifying. If it falls into the hands of the Chaos Gods, they'll use it to open a Warp Gate and destroy this world. To prevent that, I intend to take it away—or destroy it completely."
"..."
The White Wolf was silent for a long moment before replying.
"How do you know this secret?"
"I have my ways. You can think of it as a kind of prophecy. In the future I've seen, that wretched elf steals the Holy Flame, Middenheim falls, and the Chaos Legions occupy the city. They unearth the relic hidden beneath this temple and use its power to link the northern and southern Warp Gates—destroying the world completely…"
Duanmu Huai explained what he had once read on the forum—after all, back then he'd been on another planet and hadn't seen it firsthand, had he?
"...…"
The White Wolf remained silent for a long while, then slowly turned.
"Follow me."
Led by the White Wolf, Duanmu Huai descended into the depths of the Temple of Ulric. The sealed doors meant nothing to the god; soon, they passed through passage after passage and down a long stairway to the very bottom of the temple.
There, Duanmu Huai saw a mysterious entity sealed within the void—a black, pyramid-shaped object suspended in the air, encased in a strange spatial containment device.
"In truth, I don't even know what it is," said the White Wolf quietly, gazing at it.
"It seems to have existed here even before me. I can feel its immense power. To prevent it from being misused, I sealed it away."
"…An Old One Navigation Beacon…"
If Duanmu Huai hadn't known what it was before, now he was certain.
A Navigation Beacon of the Old Ones.
As the legends said, long ago the Old Ones came to this world. To combat Chaos, they created countless lifeforms here. But when the Polar Gates they had built collapsed, Chaos flooded in, and the Old Ones fled in terror.
The rest was history.
The black pyramid before him was one of the Old Ones' navigation beacons—devices used to open portals along their interstellar pathways. In simple terms, it was something like a cosmic door-opener. It seemed the Old Ones had planned to build a "subway station" here but abandoned it for unknown reasons.
Now Duanmu Huai finally understood how Chaos could use this thing to destroy the world.
After all, Chaos had invaded through the Old Ones' polar portals before—they were very familiar with this technology…
"You know what this is?" asked the White Wolf.
"Of course." Duanmu Huai nodded. "You won't mind if I take it, will you?"
"That's assuming you can take it."
Ulric seemed intrigued—clearly, he had tried to unseal it before but failed. The seals of the Old Ones weren't something a lesser god like him could undo. But Duanmu Huai was different; he'd opened enough of the Old Ones' boxes to be sick of them by now.
He placed his hand on the beacon's barrier and closed his eyes. The irregular patterns began to shift rapidly, and moments later, the sealing sigils vanished. The black pyramid dropped into his hand.
"Phew…"
Looking at the beacon in his grasp, Duanmu Huai finally exhaled.
At least one potential disaster had been averted.
(End of Chapter)