Warhammer: Don't Call Me the God of All Machines

Chapter 845 Lies, Deception, Pranks

According to the old "demolition effect," the best way to make a request is to first make a larger and more difficult one to achieve.

To open a window, sometimes you can first suggest tearing down the roof to raise the other party's expectations and pave the way for your real purpose.

Mortalian, the proud Primarch, is currently deeply entangled in it.

Bowing down to the aliens? The very thought was like poison, enough to make the Pale King fight to the death.

However, compared to being corrupted by the Chaos God and becoming his puppet, Mortalian suddenly felt that cooperating with the Eldar wasn't so unacceptable.

"You must swear an oath using your true name and the nature of the warp, otherwise, if you escape and then turn your back on us, wouldn't our race suffer a complete loss?"

"You!" Mortalian was burning with anxiety, but she didn't have time to continue bargaining. She immediately made a promise to Uslan using her true name and essence.

Feeling the weighty, star-like force of the oath, Uslan's tense heartstrings finally relaxed.

“You will never regret your decision today, Mortalian.” Uslan’s voice slowly faded away.

This trial, watched by countless humans, continues. Mortalian's body twists and turns in flames of gold and black, as the Dark Lord's corruption steadily erodes her soul.

The living saint could hardly contain her joy; she seemed to already see Mortalian completely fall and betray her.

However, what the Living Saint did not realize was that in Terra's intricate underground pipe network, a permanently sealed pipe suddenly opened a crack.

It was a pitifully small crack in the net, through which even the slender bodies of the Adarin would struggle to squeeze.

It is like the capillaries of a network; although there are an extremely large number of them, they cannot be effectively utilized most of the time.

But this moment is clearly one of those extremely rare occasions.

Eldrad Uslan, the esteemed Eldar prophet, was now in a sorry state.

He struggled to squeeze his upper body out of the crack, but his lower body was stuck in the narrow entrance to the net passage.

His face flushed red as he futilely used his staff to brace against the pipe wall, trying to pull himself out of this damned "capillary".

"Uslan, you really should eat less sweets. How are we going to carry out our grand plan if you're like this?"

In the narrow net passage, a mocking, sharp voice came from the darkness of the net passage behind him.

A figure, so brightly colored it was almost blinding, squeezed behind the crevice—an exaggerated clown hat askew, a mask covered in paint, and a wide grin on its face—it was none other than the Laughing God of the Eldar, Higoki.

"Lord Laughing God, it's all because the rift you chose is as narrow as a mouse hole. I almost thought I was going to get stuck here."

Uslan was also annoyed and retorted to the Laughing God behind him.

"With so many online channels to choose from, why insist on this one?"

The Eldar prophet's attitude toward the Laughing God was completely unlike that of someone treating a god of their own race.

After Uslan helped the Ork of the Ghoul Stars, he discovered that the Ork Emperor had already seen through their plan to infiltrate his side.

In their moment of crisis, the Shadow Prophet summoned the help of the Laughing God, the last remaining free Eldar god, who rescued Uslan and the Shadow Prophet from under the noses of the Orcs.

Uslan was incredibly grateful for the Laughing God's help, but he soon realized just how wicked this god, who had a bad reputation even in the mythology of the Eldar, truly was.

The God of Laughter has never been a serious god.

Higgs exhausted Uslan's sanity in a very short time. With one lame joke after another and crazy pranks, he almost drove Uslan to become a clown like himself.

"I know you're in a hurry, but don't rush," the Laughing God said, wriggling in the cramped space.

"Terra is no safe place right now. We must be extremely careful to avoid the attention of the Emperor and the Black King."

"Only through the capillaries of these networks could we have smuggled ourselves here; otherwise, we would have been intercepted and torn apart by the Cursed Legion or the Black King's lackeys on the way."

The God of Laughter hid in the gaps of the net, showing no intention of coming out. He simply kicked Uslan in the butt, sending him flying.

"How are we going to take Mortalian away?" Uslan asked anxiously.

"Time is running out. I just convinced this Primarch to agree to the conditions. Use your power now, Laughing God!"

Uslan was getting anxious, but the God of Laughter remained unhurried.

"Perhaps you could just rush out?" Laughing God blinked his cunning eyes. "Use your pitiful psionic energy to steal the Primarch away."
Then your name will be etched in the history of the Eldar on the Ark—the most valiant and reckless Eldar prophet, even Kane will bless you!

Uslan was immediately speechless, his veins bulging.

This is Terra. If he dares to do this, he should be prepared to be turned into cannon fodder by Terra's defense system.

“Or,” the Laughing God shifted his posture, as if performing a farce, “I could play a board game with Tzeentch, the Deceiver, and His Majesty the Emperor? And if I win, I could wager Mortalian back?”

The prophet felt his blood pressure had reached the breaking point, and being with the God of Laughter was making him feel physically and mentally exhausted.

"Alright, alright, I'm not joking with you anymore. You old fogey who can't take a joke." The God of Laughter waved his hand, and his long sleeves began to flutter.

"Humor is a very rare quality."

"Those humans are trying to corrupt Mortalian with the power of the Dark Lord. Once the corruption is complete, she will be transformed from a traitor into a Primarch who is loyal to the God-Emperor and serves the State Church."

“Then we’ll give them what they want: let Mortalian put on a show for them, a good show of how completely corrupt she has become, and when they are satisfied, let their guard down and remove their restraints… that will be our moment to steal the day.”

"This will be a... brilliant joke dedicated to the entire galaxy. If the joke can make all the audience laugh, then the plan will succeed."

Uslan broke out in a cold sweat at the sight of the Laughing God's method. He had originally thought that the Laughing God would use his divine power to interrupt the ritual and forcibly rescue Mortalian.

But now, is this even a solution?
"Otherwise what?" The God of Laughter pointed exaggeratedly at himself, jumping up and down on the spot, his sharp finger pointing at himself.

"As a prophet of the Eldar, you must know that I, the Laughing God, have never been known for my combat prowess, right?"

"That woman outside is the living saint of the Dark Lord. Do you expect me to fight her hand-to-hand?"

"When Slaanesh stormed into the Pantheon, if I hadn't run fast enough and hidden well enough, I probably would have been turned into a bursting cream puff by that purple futa monster with his Chaos Fiend," the Laughing God said confidently.

Uslan knew that the Laughing God was not lying. During the Fall of the Gods, the Laughing God had been hiding behind the other Eldar gods the whole time, moving around frantically and using his verbal attacks to unleash his fury, but he never confronted Slaanesh head-on.

It is precisely because of His cunning that the Laughing God has become the only Spirit God who can still remain free to this day.

“In that case, I will relay this to Mortalian.”

Uslan had no choice but to re-establish contact with Mortalian, and then he translated Laughing God's words and told them to the anxious Primarch.

“From now on, you will pretend that you have been completely corrupted, and we will cooperate with you in this deception.”

"Only in this way will you have a chance to survive."

Mortalian, who was waiting for the Eldar prophet to save her, was stunned when she heard this.

What kind of aid is this? They're pretending to be completely corrupt. Do you think the other side can't see through it?
“You must trust the God of Laughter; the God of Laughter can help you deceive that living saint of the Dark King,” Uslan continued to explain.

"Our Laughing God possesses the power of deception; He even relied on this power to escape from the clutches of the Prince of Pleasure."

"Hurry, there's no time!"

After hearing Uslan's explanation, Mortalian had no choice but to believe it.

There's no other way but to take a gamble!

She suddenly relaxed the last resistance deep within her soul to that corrosive power, and the blazing pillar of fire suddenly burned even brighter, the raging flames transforming into dragons, exuding a suffocating aura of destruction.

Uslan swallowed nervously, unsure of how much of what he had just said was true.

We'll leave aside for now how much help the Laughing God could provide; he was simply cunning and fast enough to escape, rather than deceiving Slaanesh.

Now, all we can do is hope that Laughing God can step up at the crucial moment and prevent Mortalian from getting herself killed.

At this moment, Mortalian, following Uslan's instructions, gave up resisting the sacrificial ritual. A dark despair began to spread across her soul, greedily devouring everything.

After drinking Aisha's potion, Mortalian's skin originally had a light greenish hue.

But now, intense golden light emanated from every pore of her body, almost transforming her into a sacred and inviolable statue.

The golden flames began to docile, coiling around the Primarch's body and licking Mortalian's skin like a beloved pet.

The ecstasy on the face of Christine, the living saint who was presiding over the ceremony, froze instantly, replaced by utter confusion and astonishment.

"This doesn't seem right. According to the original schedule, it should have taken a few more days."

"It's so easy to completely dedicate a Primarch to the God-Emperor?"

However, in her perception and spiritual vision, Mortalian's soul imprint had indeed been completely rewritten.

The great, pure power from the God Emperor cleansed her body, and the mark of the God of Mankind was replanted deep within her soul.

From this moment on, Mortalian is no longer alone; she has the protection and support of the God-Emperor behind her.

The state religion can no longer use terms like traitor or heretic to slander Mortalian. Strictly speaking, the current Primarch has already surpassed her status as a living saint.

"Should we end the ceremony early? The objective has been achieved, and there's no point in wasting any more time."

"Moreover, if this drags on, I'm afraid Lord Mortalian will hold a grudge against me in the future."

"Her relationship with the God Emperor is much closer than mine. It would be unwise to antagonize her."

Several thoughts flashed through Christine's mind, and then she made a decision.

She interrupted the power that sustained the ritual, and ordered the release of the burning human fat and promethium that were continuously being injected into the ditch to cease.

The once blazing Trial Square began to cool down rapidly, and the charred stakes were once again exposed to the crowd.

Mortalian appeared, emanating an aura that commanded the instinctive submission of countless humans.

Those mortals with weaker wills, in particular, knelt down almost instantly, offering their worship to Mortalian.

The Primarch is like a goddess of fire; its golden flames, after reaching their most dazzling point, actually reveal a faint black light.

Upon witnessing this scene, the living saint felt a tremor in her heart. Even she felt the instinctive suppression of facing a higher being.

The living saint himself came to Mortalian and freed her from her bonds.

The restraints on Mortalian were being rapidly removed. Now that she had been brought to their side, it was impossible for them to treat the Primarch in such a humiliating manner.

"Praise be to the God-Emperor, who has forgiven you once more, who has cleansed you of your sins and shame. May you fight for the God-Emperor's will, Mortalian."

Christine bowed deeply, giving Mortalian a very solemn greeting.

The Primarch simply waved his hand, seemingly uninterested in the Living Saint.

A pair of golden flames appeared behind Mortalian. With a gentle flap, a large number of dazzling particles of light fell from the wings and scattered onto the earth.

Mortalian landed on the ground without a care. The scorching, melting ground did not burn her bare feet; instead, it cooled down rapidly with her arrival.

"Believers of the God-Emperor, witness this miracle! The old rebels are dead! The newborn God-Emperor angel has descended!"

"Please remember this name—Motalian, the pride of the God-Emperor and humanity, our savior!"

The living saint took the lead in shouting, instantly igniting the already suppressed and fiery atmosphere.

Countless mortals knelt on the ground, praying devoutly to the God Emperor, singing praises of his benevolence and power with tears streaming down their faces.

If the God-Emperor can redeem and forgive even a traitorous Primarch, leading him to repent and return to the right path, what else can't He do?
"Motalian!"

"Motalian!!"

A series of cheers resounded and echoed, bursting forth in the air above the trial square.

“You see, even rebellious Primarchs can turn back under the God-Emperor’s mercy and forgiveness.”

"This proves that the state religion is correct, and that everything that is hostile to us is hostile to the will of the God Emperor."

"Qile will not succeed. She and her foolish vassals will only rise high and then fall hard."

In the stands, Pope Elfriede looked radiant, as if she had become ten years younger.

While the other high lords outwardly maintained expressions of joy, inwardly they were cursing the Pope for his shamelessness.

Just a moment ago they were judging and burning Mortalian, and now they're praising her as a savior. This change of face is faster than flipping through a book!

The truth is obvious to anyone with eyes to see. The only difference between Mortalian and the great traitor Horus Lupecal is that she wasn't carried to the Temple of Devon along with his foolish sons.

"Motalian is the first, but she will not be the last. In the future, many more sons of the God Emperor will be reformed by us, return to the throne, and repent of their past mistakes."

"Once they are forgiven by the God-Emperor, they will continue to fight for the God-Emperor's will and for humanity."

The Pope delivered a passionate speech, bringing the ceremony to its climax.

However, at the height of this frenzy, Mortalian, with her fiery wings, suddenly froze in place.

The living saint's heart skipped a beat for no reason, and a feeling of fear and palpitation washed over him.

It seems... something bad has happened.

"Motalian, what are you doing?"

Time seemed to have been paused.

The light emanating from Mortalian flickered and dimmed rapidly, like a faulty light bulb.

The magnificent fiery wings crumbled inch by inch, turning into scattered black ash, and the sacred golden light was completely extinguished, leaving only a charred, cracked...shell.

Click... click...

The teeth-grinding cracking sound was particularly jarring in the deathly silent square.

Under the horrified gaze of millions, the charred body of "Motalian" crumbled and collapsed like weathered rock, turning into a pile of charred remains.

she died?
Christine's mind went blank, but in an instant, a chilling fear gripped her.

wrong!

Mortalian couldn't have been killed so easily; she didn't really try to kill her!
Christine mobilized the great power belonging to the God-Emperor within her, searching everywhere for Mortalian's presence.

She quickly discovered the traces left by the other party.

"underground!"

The living saint let out a shrill scream, and a violent spiritual power, like an out-of-control torrent, burst forth from her body—no longer a sacred gold, but a dark gold that devoured everything.

The scorching marble turned to dust and scattered, while dark golden flames spread rapidly, disintegrating everything in their path.

Many ordinary believers were directly affected and killed by the wrath of the living saint. Their bodies were also engulfed in black flames and burned to ashes without any chance to struggle.

boom! boom! boom!
The ground was violently peeled away layer by layer: rocks, metal, ancient pipes... everything was reduced to nothingness in the black flames.

Finally, after breaking through several layers of thick rock, Christine's pupils, burning with black flames, locked onto two figures in the pipe below.

Mortalian was running wildly through the underground tunnels with an Eldar, completely ignoring Christine who was rushing towards them, and retreating in one direction only.

"You think you can make me submit? Dream on!"

"They reacted pretty quickly; I thought they could stall for a little longer!"

Mortalian's mockery was sharper than any weapon, piercing directly into the ears of the living saint and wounding her pride.

I've been scammed! I've been completely and utterly fooled!

An unprecedented chill, a mixture of extreme anger and bone-deep fear, instantly froze Christine's blood.

But Christine's mind worked incredibly fast, and she soon realized that it was the Adarin who was with the Primarch who was responsible.

It's them, they're everywhere. Whenever something important happens, these damned Eldar come out to cause trouble and make a mess of everything.

The Living Saint did not know how the Spirit Race managed to deceive her senses, and even the God Emperor's senses.

Her only thought now is to capture Mortalian and then utterly destroy that damned Aedaling.

They went to great lengths to bring Mortalian out of the Guardian's Shadow Prison and held such a grand trial ceremony, making the matter known to all the High Lords, Terrans, and even the entire galaxy.

If the Primarch escapes from her grasp, how will Christine face the disappointment of the believers, the expectations of the Pope, and the will of the God-Emperor?

No! Absolutely not!

Mortalian and Uslan suddenly stopped, which ignited a glimmer of hope in the living saint's eyes.

There's still time, there's definitely still time.

Mortalian turned around and casually greeted the approaching Primarch, who could even see the Primarch's face filled with extreme mockery and a relaxed smile.

hum-

A tiny, almost invisible crack in the net, like a cunning eye, suddenly opened in front of the two, instantly engulfing Mortalian and Uslan.

Laughing God personally controlled the net channel and rescued the two fugitives from the Black King Living Saint at the most critical moment.

The destructive spiritual energy of the Living Saint landed where the original rift in the network had opened, but it could not interfere with the already closed network.

The rocks and metal underground burned and were destroyed by Christine's rage, but it was too late.

Mortalian escaped! She ran away in full view of everyone! The cooked duck flew away!

Christine stood frozen in place, her body trembling uncontrollably, fear and anger intertwined and indistinguishable.

She failed, a humiliating and foolish failure.

The Pope, who was giving a speech in the stands, also realized that the situation had changed unexpectedly, and the rest of his words got stuck in his throat, unable to come out.

The rosy glow on her face vanished instantly, leaving only a deathly pale complexion and incredulous astonishment.

What exactly is going on? !
The high priests present experienced a rollercoaster of emotions, and seeing the Pope humiliated, they were secretly overjoyed.

You've made such a big fuss about it, letting the whole galaxy know about the trial.

The more high-profile they were in the publicity before, the more miserable their fall is now. This is simply a huge joke on the entire human empire!

But no matter how happy they were inside, the high lords' hardened skin wouldn't show the slightest hint of joy.

On the contrary, many of them even cooperated by displaying a sorrowful expression, seemingly expressing regret for the problems that had arisen with the state religion.

“Your Holiness, if you need any help, please don’t hesitate to ask. We are all serving the Emperor, so please don’t be shy.”

The Minister of Justice said earnestly.

"Yes, yes, even if Mortalian escapes, she will leave traces. As long as she appears on an Imperial planet, we will be able to find clues."

The Minister of the Interior was extremely enthusiastic, as if he wanted to mobilize the entire domestic bureaucracy to hunt down the Gene Prototype.

Elfreda's already aged face seemed to age another twenty years in an instant, and her back was no longer as straight as before, but rather showed a slight hunchback.

She didn't care about the sarcasm of these fools; personal honor and disgrace were insignificant before the God Emperor.

All she wants now is to apologize to the God-Emperor, because of their mistake, the Primarch, who was supposed to be a sacrifice, has gone out of control, and the God-Emperor's grand plan may be affected as a result.

……

While the State Church was shrouded in gloom and filled with regret, Mortalian and Uslan were slowly recovering from their shock.

The Web Path is their territory, and even the Chaos Gods cannot arbitrarily extend their tentacles into the Web Path.

Moreover, with the Laughing God, a Spirit Race god with exceptional escape abilities, there to help him, Uslan finally felt relieved.

"Welcome to... a relatively safe place, Mortalian."

“We can relax a little here; at least the pursuers are kept out of the net passage,” Uslan said, still shaken, his prophet robes soaked with sweat.

The place where Uslan and the others are now is the capillary of the Infernal Network extending from Terra.

This place is far from the main part of the network, and it would be almost impossible to find this remote corner without a map or guide.

Mortalian's body was covered in burn marks, and the traces of the Black King's corruption were slowly fading away.

Having broken free from the instruments of torture that suppressed her psionic energy, Mortalian quickly recovered from her previous weak and listless state.

Her current psychic abilities almost surpass those of Magnus in the past. Warp power is like a child she can control at will; with just a flick of her finger, it will come to her and be used at will.

As she felt the surging torrent of psychic energy within her, and recalled her past deep aversion to psychic magic, a sense of absurdity and bitterness at the cruel twist of fate welled up within her.

The original creator, who was the most steadfast in materialism and the most averse to aliens, has now become a monster with extraordinary psionic talent and half Eldar blood flowing through his veins.

Fate is so wondrous; it always plays tricks on those who believe they will never change in the most bizarre ways.

The Web does not completely isolate psionic energy, so Mortalian's power is increasing every second.

She was like a desert that had been dry for millions of years, frantically absorbing rainwater and integrating it into her body.

Uslan looked on in awe; he could sense that in the presence of this Primarch, his psionic powers, which he was so proud of, were actually nothing special.

Perhaps when Mortalian reaches her strongest state, even Eldar Laughing God beside her will be no match for her.

However, they have already made a pact with Mortalian, becoming allies with the Eldar. The stronger she becomes, the greater the benefits to the Eldar as a whole.

Mortalian had no intention of going back on her word; she had sworn an oath with her real name, leaving no room for retreat.

And in the end, these spirit race members were indeed desperate enough. They even dared to pull off a shocking deception while the state religion burned them alive, putting on a crazy prank for everyone.

"Thank you for your help, Higoki."

Mortalian did not address the other party as the God of Laughter; deep down, she still harbored a strong aversion to the concept of gods.

The mask of the God of Laughter, covered in oil paint, stretched all the way to the back of his ears. It seemed as if he would never stop for a moment. Beneath the exaggeratedly colored skirt, there seemed to be a pair of feet that were always dancing.

“Aid? No, no, no! I have no aid whatsoever.”

"It was you, the great Mortalian! It was you who, with your superb acting skills, deceived that poor wretch of the Black King, making her believe that you had submitted and that all this glory belonged to you!"

The God of Laughter's voice was exceptionally shrill, with exaggeratedly exaggerated tonal fluctuations, as if he were constantly performing an opera.

Motalian's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Just a joke."

The God of Laughter held his belly with both hands, seemingly enjoying seeing Mortalian make that expression.

"I only offered a small helping hand; it's mainly up to you," He said, blinking.

Mortalian instantly realized that Uslan had just lied to her.

The old prophet coughed lightly: "Ahem, actually this is the power of deception. It doesn't need to change anything with deception, it just needs to make you believe something with deception."

Uslan argued that at least he had managed to fool Mortalian.

Mortalian snorted coldly, too lazy to bother with it anymore.

She felt the surging power within her and the strange sense of security in the net, and took a deep breath.

"Since we're all in the same boat now, you should adapt to the changes."

"The human empire has no place for you. Why don't you go and see our Adalin territory first?"

“You need to adapt to a new…identity and allies.”

Uslan was now filled with the ecstatic joy of bringing Mortalian to the Eldar camp.

With a Primarch as their leader, this once-glorious race might actually be able to restore its former glory.

Mortalian's gaze swept over the grinning God of Laughter and the expectant Uslan, finally settling on the endless darkness ahead of the net path.

Fate had already pushed her onto a path she had never imagined.

She paused for a moment, then slowly nodded, her voice carrying a resolute tone, as if everything had finally settled.

"In that case, please lead the way."

"I'm very interested in your legendary... Black Library."

(End of this chapter)