This is our Warhammer journey

Chapter 422 Our Race Is Doomed! (Two Chapters Combined)

"Contact Abaddon and prepare to sink into the warp."

When Typhons returned to the End of Manifestation, to his own throne, an unprecedented sense of security enveloped him once again.

On the Terminator Manifestation, long tendrils wrapped in viruses and bacteria climbed up his Terminator armor and inserted themselves through the openings in Typhon's abdomen and back, like an umbilical cord, connecting the life of Nurgle's chosen one to the warship.

It's like a child returning to their swaddling clothes.

Thinking to himself which warbands had betrayed him and preparing to settle scores later, Typhons roared at the psionicist responsible for maintaining the communication link, his voice echoing across the bridge.

"I can't get in touch with Abaddon."

The other party said.

The warship was shaking so much that even though he was close enough to Typhon, he had to raise his voice to drown out the noise so that others could hear him.

"The Spirit of Vengeance has sunk into the warp. They did not go to Mandeville Point, but instead tore a warp rift open using the wreckage of the Unyielding Will. As you know, the Geller Field itself greatly interferes with Astronomical communications."

When it comes to running away, no one is more authoritative than Zhan Shuai.

The Sons of Horus, as one of only two legions that successfully escaped from Guilliman's 25-strong army without their father, are known as the two great escapees along with the World Eaters.

"asshole--"

Typhons slammed his fist on the armrest of the throne.

That's my ship!

He spoke, intending to use the servants on the ship as sacrifices to tear open a rift in the warp.

It's practically impossible to win a fleet battle.

The online system is far too cheating. As the commander, you have absolutely no way of predicting the opponent's attack direction, which directly strengthens the already notoriously heavy Imperial ships to an absurd degree—

Boom~
The tremor splashed yellowish-green droplets onto Typhon's face, which was blended into his helmet, and he felt the massive structure of the warship shaking.

Looking down through the brine pool in front of him, he saw a fleet led by a Dark Angel Retribution-class battleship approaching, with almost all of its weapons firing at the Termination Manifestation.

If the warship sails away from Caliban's nominal location, Typhon will be unable to maintain the warp rift, and similarly, he will be unable to control it to evade the oncoming dark angels. Azrael hopes this mistake will be fatal to his enemies.

Led by the Retribution-class battleships, the Light Spears and Macro Cannons opened fire fiercely.

The Dark Angels swept away the cruisers and escorts that seemed to have found their backbone as they approached the 'Terminator Manifestation'. The battleships rushed into the firing range of the Typhon flagship, their weapon arrays locking directly onto the enemy.

The ancient, living behemoth tried to fight back, but as a meteorite from the asteroid belt grazed it, the warship, which made no attempt to dodge, vanished on the spot and was then moved out from another location, led by a small, silvery spaceship.

Even the asteroid belt has them. Just how many gates did the ancient sages leave behind in the galaxy?
Typhons had never identified with Tyche as much as he did at this moment.

They wished they could assemble the three divine weapons right now and break through the network.

Damn it, why is his path to bringing together the Three Sacred Treasures always so bumpy? He was the Dark Angel ten thousand years ago, and he's still the Dark Angel ten thousand years later.

Typhon felt that he had made no mistakes in any of his steps, and that each step was to help his beloved father take another step forward in the great game. But there were always people who would follow closely behind after he took his first step.

A strange sense of destiny enveloped him.

"We need to make an emergency jump and prepare the sacrifices."

"The souls of the sacrifices did not go to the warp."

The psionicist replied:
"They were stolen."

"."

As the bombardment intensified, the Void Shield unleashed purple and blue energy, enveloping the Terminator. Torpedoes and missiles pierced the time-ravaged hull of the Chaos Ship, tearing through its ancient armor.

As the final burst of energy erupted, the last void shield generator of the Termination Manifestation overloaded.

Azrael realized the enemy ship's weakness.

The assault torpedo launched a psionic beacon within the magnetic field of the launch channel. The divine engine within generated energy from the warp itself, and ancient creatures that had existed alongside humanity before the Imperium were thrashing and howling inside.

Boom!

The assault torpedo struck the exposed hull of the Termination Manifestation violently, crashing into the battleship's compartments. The fissures that opened and then quickly compressed instantly carved out a cavity large enough to safely accommodate hundreds of people, and then a teleportation beacon delivered hundreds of Space Marines.

The troops in the center of the team activated the Blackstone Array to suppress the ripples of the warp reaction from spreading outwards. Then, the computing system installed on the battleships at the Primarchs' request quickly determined the area where the warp reaction was most intense.

"Send Deathwing and Grey Knight to teleport!"

Azrael roared, and at that moment, teleportation beams erupted simultaneously, pointing towards Typhon's command bridge, projecting the various anti-demonic forces, sharpening their knives, into the warship in the void.

"We are knights of humanity, guardians of humanity. Do not think that you can invade human territory without bearing the consequences."

"Our revenge has come!"

Typhons stared in horror at the monsters that had suddenly appeared before him. A series of combined punches left the Chosen One of Nurgle unable to withstand them, like a perfectly good game of novice players suddenly being given a master to play against.

The performance of the Wither Overlords was surprising; they were unable to effectively suppress Deathwing in close combat.

The Grey Knights, on the other hand, are like slicing through melons and vegetables. Relying on their deeper connection with the real universe and their access to unknown warp regions, they have a higher priority in dealing with souls, even those souls under the gaze of Nurgle.

Just as in the past, Chaos was able to forcibly take the soul of a loyalist into its grasp by blaspheming their soul.

Deathwing, relying on their unwavering will and martial prowess, tore through the defensive line formed by the Wither Overlords. The Grey Knights, personally trained by the Formless and Nameless Lord, pressed forward, the silver light emanating from their Heavenly Punishment-level weapons illuminating Typhons' decaying armor in a ghastly white light.

puff!

With a sound of a pipe breaking and pressure being released, the pipe connecting the Chosen One of Chaos to the warship was severed, revealing the dense and ugly neural connections on the top and back of his armor.

Typhons' massive body struggled, his huge scythe waving wildly.

He was overwhelmed with shame.

The Chosen One finds this unacceptable. While being chased and crawled on the ground by the Primarch before was somewhat understandable, this is simply unacceptable.

The Grey Knights meticulously replicated everything the Lord of Light had taught them, their chains intersecting as they poured forth psionic energy, spells forming in the blink of an eye as they conceived them, feeling the warp connection they had established with the Lord of Light's domain, intending to make the traitor before them pay the price.

Meanwhile, Typhons was wondering why he couldn't do anything about these damned Grey Knights. It was one thing for the Primarch to be scared away; there was nothing shameful about that. He had been scared away ten thousand years ago. But what right did the Grey Knights have?
He can't even defeat these lackeys of the false emperor?
The teachings of the Lord of Light ultimately led to Dawnwing killing the bridge's guards amidst heart-wrenching screams. This extraordinary power was so terrifying that even allies felt a lingering fear after witnessing the demon's fate.

boom!
Typhon's head was pressed to the ground.

“You’re not the first, Typhon.”

Cardo Diego held a book with adamantite-bound edges in one hand, his eyes glowing a fiery white with psionic energy, while he swung down his weapon with the other.

Amidst the wrathful howls of the plague god, a head rolled off, and a name was crossed out.

"And it won't be the last." The End Manifestation shattered into pieces.

A ring of energy, resembling a solar prominence, erupted from the rear of the ship, but the surrounding ships did not stop in the slightest, seemingly determined to tear it into cosmic fragments.

Ships tainted by Nurgle cannot be recovered; they will face utter destruction.

The loose debris slammed into the nearest spaceship's void shield, while slightly slower debris scraped against the warship's surface, igniting yellow sparks. Some warships that had lost power moved slowly, then suddenly exploded into fireballs mixed with metal and air without warning.

"I don't like this kind of scene."

"Looking away from the scout-class ships that provide battlefield information and guide the fleet through short-range network jumps," Evelyn whispered.

One second she was working as a Sanhe Goddess in an ordinary neighborhood in Comoros, dealing with the slave-hunting teams and struggling with her future path. She was just about to find an abandoned house to make do when she was robbed by a group of Eldar.

The Phoenix Lord, the High Prophet of the Council, the Nether Engine carrying ancient ancestors, and the ancient enemy of the Eldar entered the Comoros with expressions of utter bewilderment at the group's madness. Amidst the chaos, they scattered the Ranger and then pulled her out.

Those warlords, tribal warrior lords, and the like kept muttering nonsensical things like "finally found," "the chosen one of Death," and "the true hope of Eldar."

Along the way, she witnessed the Ranger Lords bowing and scraping to the enhanced psionic apes, saw the unruly Rangers serving the monkey commanders with fervor, and watched these brethren's fanaticism as they gazed upon the monsters created by the Dark Lord.

"This is not elegant at all, and it lacks any beauty of the art of war."

Realizing that her noble brethren seemed to have become human lackeys, Ifreni looked at the magnificent battlefield and couldn't help but mutter to herself.

"Come on, you're just being sarcastic. Races that also suffered from the Great Cataclysm can muster enough military strength in a battle, while the Eldar no longer has that ability."

Ramses, still focused on the warp, didn't even look up before reflexively making a sarcastic remark.

In the phrase.

Evelynn, who hadn't yet grown out her signature high ponytail—one of the most difficult hairstyles to maintain in the Warhammer universe—hesitated to speak. When her gaze fell on that golden face, she instinctively shrank back, ultimately lowering her head to hide her pained expression of not knowing how to refute him with her silver-white hair.

Okay, she was just jealous.

Both races were ravaged by the Great Fall, but the Eldar plummeted like a stock market meltdown, while humanity, under the guidance of the gods, rose again and even established a human empire far surpassing that of the Old Night Era, becoming the largest galactic overlord in history. As time went on, various powerful figures appeared in human form to save the crumbling empire.

The Ark World fleet always boasts that its combat power is enough to crush several human star sectors, but in the numerous major crises in the Ark World, the great fleet they talk about has almost never appeared.

Ultimately, the Eldar population is no longer sufficient to support a massive fleet, and while protecting the Worldship, they can only deploy a small fleet for guerrilla warfare.

It's not that guerrilla warfare is bad; it's one of the best tactical choices for defeating a larger force with a smaller one and adapting to local conditions. But using it to infiltrate a large battlefield is a bit ridiculous.

The Eldar might actually be able to respawn those Worldships that were destroyed, but they would essentially be a one-time fleet.
The damage to the ships is not the problem; the problem is that the loss of personnel due to the damage would be catastrophic for the Eldar.

"Therefore, the Eldar will never be able to shoulder heavy responsibilities."

Tarasin tossed the exquisite dagger in his hand; the delicate shamanic engravings and elegant ancient Eldar script on it suggested that the owner of this dagger was no ordinary person.

I don't know how Tarachin managed to visit the Comoros Colosseum in such a short time.

"In this universe, a race that cannot withstand massive casualties has no future."

Although he and the old prophet were kindred spirits, they still had to fight when the time came.

The Leytelins also competed with the Oglins for importance in human society, although this was always the Leytelins' perspective.

"It's better than you, you foolish self-destructors, who are already a thing of the past!"

Evelyn immediately retorted sarcastically.

Unlike her fellow Eldar from the Ark, this wanderer expressed her emotions more fully, which may be why she chose to leave Bieton.

"."

Tarasin shrugged; Ifreni's area-of-effect attack couldn't target him.

"You should wait until your space necromancers' great rebellion is over before you talk about it."

Uslan then spoke up.

The topic of space necromancy is old news. It's no secret that the four necromancers of the Empire can reshape souls, but the fact that there aren't many necromancy worlds around them is enough to illustrate the problem.

Let's not even talk about the Menak dynasty, which went mad with the skin-peeling virus.

The most powerful Sothek dynasty also fell into chaos as its members gradually awakened. The undead, led by Storm King Imotek, believed that the galaxy was now a cesspool and that their current position was the most superior one. They gained the support of many dynasties and openly opposed the Silent King, who was trying to lead the undead to move away from the galaxy.

Both sides are currently preparing for war, ready to prove themselves on the battlefield.

Among them were those who wanted to join humanity but couldn't bring themselves to do it, those who wanted to kill both sides to take revenge on society, those who were loyal to the enemy lord and wanted to sabotage in secret, and those who took advantage of the chaos to establish their own power, and so on.
The entire Great Rebellion is a space necromancer version.

The Silent King must be regretting destroying the master control protocol that allowed him to forcibly control all the undead in space.

"Holy crap, your Isha is still in Nurgle's hands. You really think resurrection is unlimited?"

"Or what? Become a metal man like you?"

"The Comoros are still around, so how can you represent all the Eldar?"

"Comoros? What kind of alien? I don't know it."

"Hey--"

'It's hopeless.'

Watching the two argue again about which one is more suitable to be a dog, Ifrene, who had become numb to the future of Eldar, sighed deeply.

She shifted her gaze to the Phoenix Lord, who was deep in thought.

The young Phoenix Lord did not bear the same etched marks as the old prophet, but he consistently displayed an extraordinary composure and calmness, as well as an air of neither arrogance nor servility.

The armor, imbued with the accumulated wisdom and character of countless generations, creates an indescribable sense of age on his body, subconsciously earning the trust of his people.

Whenever Ephraim saw the Phoenix Lord's silent and composed figure amidst the commotion, she felt that there was still hope for the Eldar.

At the very least, the great Lord of Light should be the Grim Reaper of the Eldar!
What do you think of the title "Messenger of the Sun"?

Noticing Ifreni's gaze, the Phoenix Lord, who was deep in thought, looked up and asked the future chosen one of the Grim Reapers.

"?"

"I think the title of Sun Lord is too presumptuous."

"?"

(End of this chapter)