This is our Warhammer journey

Chapter 448 Various Parties in Momentum (5.8k)

The cunning one was enraged.

Nurgle laughed.

Why is the warp suddenly so quiet?

Ramses paused slightly, and Caliban, who was still psionicly piecing things together under his command, was momentarily stunned.

Arthur cleared away the chaotic pollution that had become so mixed on Caliban with a single shot. Now, all he had to do was to use his boundless chaotic abilities to reinfuse Caliban, making it easier for Ryan to regain control of the planet.

This process is unlikely to be peaceful; he is prepared to lead the Eldar of the park into the Warp and fight against various demons.

But what's the situation now?
He seemed angry, but he wasn't trying to interfere as much as he used to.

Especially the cunning and cunning.

Ramses knew that many of the coincidences were deliberately orchestrated by Tzeentch, but considering that they were beneficial to them and that such open schemes were impossible to counter, he didn't pay much attention to them and simply maintained a high-intensity attack on the demon Tzeentch.

"What's gotten into him this time?"

Ramses looked puzzled, subconsciously wondering what kind of trouble these guys were planning to cause.

"what happened?"

Arthur, who was discussing the issue of responsibility for the Broken Steel Wings with Ryan, inquired.

"The warp is too quiet."

Ramses was not entirely reassured and checked it again carefully.

"But I can't see any problem."

The golden-masked wizard scratched his head, looking puzzled.

"Then continue."

Arthur still trusted his friends' judgment; if Ramses said he couldn't see the problem, then there was probably nothing wrong with it.

However, we must still take precautions against potential dangers.

After a moment's hesitation, Arthur gestured to Ryan, opened a section on the star map, and then retrieved the files of the Weeping Ones from the database.

After completing the testing of the Dawn, the Lamenters were deployed at the edge of the Extreme Starfield, near the outpost in the Misty Starfield, which was the invasion area of ​​a branch fleet of the Leviathan Hive.

The Silver Heart is now in complete chaos. The Wotan Alliance, the Chaos Wotan Alliance, the two Orcish Empires, the Leviathan Hive Fleet, and the Imperial forces led by Huron are all embroiled in conflict. In addition, numerous Chaos Warlords have emerged from within the Maelstrom after the Four Gods expanded the Maelstrom with divine power, and they are also taking advantage of the chaos.

The impact almost completely severed the connection between the Solar Sector and the Limit Sector. After lifting the plague blockade, the Dawn Sector deployed a large number of military units along the way, hoping to limit the battlefield to the Galactic Center, but the effect was not ideal.

It's not the Extreme Starfield that's leaking air, but rather the Storm Starfield to the south.

The Necromancer dynasty has awakened, and the Orks and Zerg have invaded, causing many planets in this already rebellious star system to declare independence. With only the Raven Guard, a fledgling group, stationed there, things are currently in complete chaos.

However, everyone had expectations.

Looking at the Solar Starfield, the High Lords who were still fighting with their elite troops and the Khorne Demon Army, which refreshed every eight days, on various warp space node planets weren't too angry.

Just go about your business. The fact that Terra hasn't been destroyed means things are looking good.

Currently, on the defensive line of the Extreme Starfield, the main force of the Weeping Ones bears the heavy responsibility of the pressure relief valve. The world of Thermopile, where they are stationed, is near a supermassive black hole with weak warp influence, and behind it is the radiation zone of the extremely wealthy forging world of Riza, surrounded by a feast.

This greatly benefited the Terran Hive Fleet's warp drive, a faster-than-light travel method, to the point that the Hive Fleet participating in the battle royale tournament within the Galactic Heart would flee here whenever they couldn't withstand the pressure.

Fortunately, with the support of the Dawn Sector and a significant equipment advantage, coupled with years of positive publicity, a large number of armed forces, such as knight families, Astartes on their atonement expeditions, and Krieg, who pursued glorious death, have converged on the area where the Lamenters are stationed, and the defense line remains solid.

After all, bad luck only makes you suffer disasters that are far beyond your capacity to bear. When your teammates are strong enough, bad luck can turn into an opportunity.

"Have a company of those who are wailing be sent over for testing."

He commanded the Star Speaker.

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Do not follow the same route as the casting fleet, but synchronize the movement of the weeping ones with all units."

Finally, still seemingly uneasy, Arthur added another reminder.

"Yes, Your Highness."

The Star Speaker waited for a few seconds, then disconnected.

Ryan, who was still observing the star chart and analyzing the situation in the Milky Way, raised an eyebrow.

To be honest, although metaphysics is everywhere, from ribbon-cutting ceremonies for national projects to burning incense and praying for a speedy run, even Ryan would have some rituals before going to war. The Cult of Mechanics has been kowtowing for thousands of years.

But it is truly rare for such a superstition to reach a consensus among the entire top leadership.

"The influence of the subspace is very strong in this era, and the veil between reality and the subspace is already very thin."

Arthur unfolds the star map and simultaneously retrieves the data.

"This is the subspace fissure exit we have investigated over the past thirty years. The annual growth rate has been increasing year by year, and it had exceeded 10% by 2014."

"Moreover, during this process, the number of psionicists in various settlements has gradually increased over time. It is visible to the naked eye that the entire human population is irreversibly transforming into a psionic race."

"The Weeping Ones are the extreme embodiment of this era; their fate is deeply bound to the warp, thus endowing them with unprecedented misfortune."

"Ah."

Ryan observed the data with seriousness.

No wonder Ramses asked him if he had learned teleportation when they met again.

This era is no longer one where one can ignore the vast majority of monsters and demons simply by relying on imperial truth.

Humanity needs a Primarch, but it also needs that Primarch to recognize its own power and be able to lead humanity to confront all kinds of monsters and demons without easily falling. Otherwise, it can only rely on the Primarch's own powerful governance to save the Empire through pen and paper, and to organize the Empire's massive size to crush its opponents.

"That's why the current empire needs my mobility."

Ryan saw through the empire's situation at a glance.

Now that the Emperor has ascended the throne, he no longer needs to conceal his supernatural powers. The Primarchs no longer need to wear the skin of superhumans. After all, the Great Rebellion has thoroughly proven which Primarchs can form a human empire with the Emperor for life, and there is no need to use a human skin to prove whether they are human or not.

Although Ryan is an abstract concept, he still proved himself.

"Yes."

Arthur agrees.

"we need you."

With his arms resting on the table, although his appearance had aged due to his mindset, Ryan did not feel that his proud strength had weakened in the slightest. On the contrary, he felt a continuous flow of power flowing into him.

After composing himself, Ryan immediately threw himself into the duties of a war leader. In addition to feeling guilty about his mistakes, he was also grateful to his brothers.

Even in this state, my brothers didn't even think of killing me.

Ryan was truly grateful for this, because judging from the Emperor's attitude, if Arthur and Ramses really intended to kill him, then he was doomed.

As for the power he possesses.

Ryan has already read the records of the self-defense counterattack in Kadia, and the power of Peturabo is now controlled by Romulus.

They were willing to keep Ryan alive by their side simply because they believed Ryan still had a chance to improve, just as they wouldn't rashly decide the death of ordinary humans.

They truly regarded the Emperor and the Primarch as human beings, because humans are naturally prone to making mistakes.

"Do not worry."

Arthur gazed at the star map that seemed to be burning and said, "Take it slow. The duration of this war is not up to us."

"I see."

Ryan nodded.

This will be a protracted war, and as a Primarch who has experienced the Great Crusade, he has a clear understanding of the current state of the Empire's decay.

They also need to adapt to their own abilities, integrate human power, play their role, and change the situation in their favor through their actions before moving on to the next place where they are needed.

Just like it is now.

Lift weights lightly.

He handles heavy tasks with ease.
-
The Stone Fortress, Command Room, Observer Seats

The Elven race, who found themselves doing nothing but leading the way, were staring at each other blankly.

The number of these robed little men has also increased considerably. Those unlucky guys who were blown away when Caliban was destroyed have all returned and are able to resume their old jobs, participating in the maintenance of the Dark Angels' combat equipment.

These beings, whose existence is as long as the history of the Eldar, seem to be born with a natural talent for this profession, as if they were created for this duty.

"I am not wrong, right?"

After staring at his distant relatives for a long time, Uslan finally met the Phoenix Lord's gaze, and both saw disbelief in each other's eyes.

Evelyn was chatting curiously with the little robed figures when she looked up at the two people whose worldview seemed to have been refreshed once again, and looked puzzled.

"That's what I should be asking you, old prophet."

The Phoenix Lord even used a respectful title when addressing this old man, whose reputation within the Eldar was similar to that of the Slaanesh.

"No change?"

"no change."

Uslan nodded.

He pointed to the fleet ahead; his Eldar's extraordinary perception allowed him to glimpse the souls of those humans from another perspective.

The Phoenix Lord looked at the mundane scene before him.

With the fissure completely closed and the filth removed, Caliban began piecing things back together.

There were no earth-shattering phenomena, and the distant stars remained unchanged despite the trans-temporal upheaval.

But it is precisely this ordinariness that is terrifying.

I thought of it, I did it, and I succeeded.

Is this normal?

normal--

What a normal ghost!
Is this something you can just do whenever you want?
"Old prophet, we should..."

The Phoenix Lord asked in the ancient Elven language.

As everyone knows, the Eldar are best at currying favor with powerful allies to become the dominant race in the galaxy.

During the War of Heaven, they allied themselves with the Ancient Saints, and the entire race ascended to immortality. Towards the end of the War of Heaven, they allied themselves with the gods of the Spirit Race, thus laying the foundation for the Spirit Race's dominance.

Later, when Asuyan sealed the Pantheon because of a prophecy, the Spirit Race lost its main force, so they created a powerful figure for themselves.

Therefore, the Eldar are experts at currying favor with powerful figures.

The Eldar were able to become the dominant race in the galaxy because they were good at currying favor with powerful figures.

They started worshipping gods tens of millions of years before humans! They understand gods better than many gods do.

These four are completely unaware of their true abilities. What are they doing here fooling around with humans?
The Phoenix Lord wished he could send these gods to the Spirit Race's Pantheon right now.

If the other side is willing to rule the Eldar, the Eldar will immediately be able to return to its former status.

It transcends the Three Realms and is not within the Five Elements.

Uslan glanced at the Phoenix Lord, his eyes, now filled with solid crystals and displaying a magnificent color, coldly sweeping over the fanatical Phoenix Lord.

The meaning is self-evident.

The Phoenix Lord wisely kept quiet. It was common knowledge that Uslan himself was a heretic by Eldar standards; he had even gone so far as to gather and ignite the souls of the Eternal Circuit in an attempt to harm Slaanesh and save more of his brethren. If even the Eldar found that absurd, then it was definitely hopeless.

"Think about who the last god we created was."

Uslan issued a stern warning.

The Phoenix Lord immediately understood.

Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, and the greed that had been brewing under the urging of countless ancestral consciousnesses immediately subsided.

Things are fine now.

Yes, things are fine now.

The Phoenix Lord repeatedly emphasized this in his mind, watching Ramses, who was still busy piecing together Caliban.

They shouldn't interfere, nor should they.

"Death, our true enemy is Death."

Uslan added another reminder.

"Correct."

The Phoenix Lord's chaotic consciousness finally came to a unified state. Under the Eldar girl's gaze that looked at him as if he were a madman, he pounded his head a few times, then stepped forward, walking out from between Uslan and Tarasin, who was still shouting "cool" while setting up the recording equipment.

"Stop, alien."

The warband commander of the Guardian Angels, Carmel, stopped the other side.

"Commander Kamel, no, brother."

When the Phoenix Lord spoke, Kamel heard a strong sense of flattery in his voice.

"I am not your brother."

Kamail frowned, somewhat doubting whether the guy in front of him was still the Eldar known for his arrogance.

"We will become brothers."

The Phoenix Lord spoke:

"Tell the lords that everything in the Bietan Ark world belongs to them, and the handover can take place now. The Bietans need a planet in the Dawn Sector, any planet will do, even if we develop it ourselves. The Bietans will share all the technology and unconditionally respond to the call of the Wings of Dawn—"

"?"

Staring at the Phoenix Lord's fanatical face, Kamel looked troubled.

What on earth is wrong with the Spirit Race?

Are people in such a hurry to sign a contract of servitude?
"what?"

In the deepest part of the net, in a place that no detector or chaotic god can find, lies the Black Library of the Spirit Race's Laughing God—Qiao Gaoqi.

This is the gathering place of all the knowledge of the Eldar, a lingering shadow of the glorious era of the ancient Eldar Empire, and a place that countless beings in the galaxy yearn for.

Inside the Black Library, there is a performance terrace.

The clowns are choreographing a play under the guidance of the clown. The light and elegant dance music conveys the history of the Spirit Clan, while also containing a deadly edge.

wow~
A single-molecule blade slices through.

Several clowns, their bodies spurting blood, collapsed before the one-horned clown wearing the Slaanesh mask.

The unicorn's eyes, almost entirely purple, held a deep sadness, yet it continued its deadly dance in the center of the terrace, its steps unwavering.

This is the fall of the Spirit Race.

This was merely the arrangement of the play; what truly saddened this lone performer was the possibility that one day he might actually have to wield a deadly blade against his own people.

boom!
But just as the soloists were practicing diligently, Chogochi, the organizer of the play, interrupted the performance that was about to reach perfection.

The God of Laughter stopped laughing, and the book in his hand fell to the ground, the performance planned for the God of Death, Inard, on it had long since ended.

The clowns, who had been interrupted, were quite puzzled.

They got up from the ground, tended to each other's wounds, and looked at the clown with curiosity, wondering what kind of fun their god was planning to have this time, or what new script he had come up with.

What script? What play?
What's the point of acting?

Qiao Gaoqi's gaze fell on the words in the script, as if he had seen something glaringly obvious. He immediately picked it up and then smashed it to pieces.

To the surprise of the clowns, this god, who hid his sorrow with optimism, actually laughed out loud from the bottom of his heart.

He rummaged through the dark library, picked out a few scrolls that humanity had always dreamed of, and then the entire god vanished in the blink of an eye.

It'll be too late if we don't go now!
-
"Motalian."

At dusk, on a plague-stricken planet in the Extreme Starfield, Chief Nurgle Archmage Kugas waded through a swamp formed from fermenting floating corpses.

Juice spurted out, and bones slid down.

In this swamp built by countless humans, a great demon, as large as a mountain, had most of his body submerged. Behind him, the echoes of countless dying people resounded, their most desperate emotions condensed and ultimately poured into a giant cauldron.

"what happened?"

Kugas arrived at a palace, where the dark green giant still hid his body in a tattered gray robe.

He watched as the vegetation, which absorbed the bones and souls, withered and flourished, and swarms of flies, bees, and earthworms crawled out from the rotten pieces of wood.

“The power of the loving father has increased; I can feel it.”

This is the truth of the world, and now he has completed a deal.

He traded that future for another, a future far grander and more promising than any dying empire could promise. With every breath, with every blink, he saw another possibility blossoming, each revealing its glorious side.

He remembers what happened before he was born, and he is aware of things that have not yet happened, things that have already been etched into history.

"Magnus has run away and his whereabouts are unknown."

Kugas said.

Mortarian shrugged: "As expected."

“My loving father is urging me on.”

Kugas added.

Mortarian frowned: "What's wrong?"

"You are racing against time."

Kugas said, reaching out to pry open a skull that was soaking and decaying.

“We need more offerings; this is not enough, and it is far from meeting the standards for a divine plague.”

They want to corrupt a Primarch, a Primarch to whom the Empire has imposed its faith for millennia.

It's ridiculous. Ten thousand years ago, they could corrupt Horus with just a dagger, but now they have to go to such great lengths to deal with the weakest link in the Primarch.

The increased impact of the warp on reality also amplifies these monsters that already belong to the warp.

“Then let my sons bring back more.”

Mortarian waved his hand and issued the order mercilessly.

He received news of Typhon's death, but to be honest, he wasn't too bothered by it.

Because he made a choice.

Mortarian raised his outstretched hand and claws, blocking out the last rays of light falling from the sky.

This is the most important.

For a long time, he had been hovering on the edge of forming his own social relationships, resenting the emperor's impossible demands and indignant at the empire's countless injustices. He could have remained in ambiguity, fighting for Horus and not embracing those destructive powers. He could have restrained himself, indulging in these sorceries only when necessary, and then refusing to plunge into that cold, dark pond, leading his offspring to drift apart from the empire and chaos.

But it doesn't matter now, he doesn't care.

As the sun set, the entire palace fell into darkness, and the castle began to wither and turn yellow, leaving only restraint, gripping, and relentless exploitation.

Mortarian looked up at the only planet still shining beneath the murky sky.

That was the goal his loving father gave him.

He extended his right claw, lengthening its mutated blade, as if to dig open the planet, seize the cowering inhabitant within, that sleeping brother, and grip his head with his filthy iron fist.

"Make them bring enough offerings!"
-
"It sounds very unrealistic."

Ramses met with the Phoenix Lord.

"Your ability to change your tune so quickly is unprecedented, or is this simply your true nature?"

The Phoenix Lord bowed his head in respect and knelt on one knee. He knew that he should show respect at this moment, and at the same time, he wanted to avoid seeing Ramses again.

He made a graceful gesture, and the representatives of Bieton, along with the procession behind them, knelt down.

"We are honored by your presence."

The Phoenix Lord said that whatever a god says, nothing he says is offensive.

"It is you who make me feel honored, Lord Phoenix, just like those of our compatriots who are already standing beside us."

Ramses said, "You have given us this opportunity to break the deadlock. More and more comrades are gathering around us, and we will face the same enemy together."

“After I told you your honest suggestion, I understand your thoughts. Just as you will fully support me, I will fully support you, not just give you a chance to survive like those slave owners do.”

"As long as you remain human beings, I will personally lead you into action, and wherever you go, I will follow you like a shadow."

Ramses knew the significance of such Eldar loyalty, and he wouldn't mess it all up.

Faced with the promise of the radiant being, the Eldar showed expressions of incredible gratitude.

What level of treatment is this?

The preferential treatment that you can only get from being chosen by a god in other companies is a benefit written into the contract here!

"Now, rise."

He continued, spreading his arms, his cloak billowing like liquid gold.

"Yes!"

The Phoenix Lord, no, the Corona Emissary, stood up.

Let's begin.

Ramses said, lifting the structural diagram of the Bietan Ark world, his golden-wrapped fingers pointing directly at the old woman's sword within.

"Yes, my lord!"

　P.S.: Characters appearing in the story

　　Arthur: Discuss the galactic situation with Ryan, gain a preliminary understanding of the enemies the galaxy is currently facing, and analyze the current strategy of the Dawn Wings.

　　Ryan: He recognized his own power, and at the same time experienced the malice of the world and the goodwill from the Wings of Dawn, thus gaining a deeper understanding of himself.

　　Ramses: Integrating the Caliban, embarking on the incorporation of the Eldar, and formally submitting the contract.

　　Phoenix Lord (Corona Messenger): I must sign the contract immediately!

　　The culprit: It has reached a very urgent point, and we need to push the plan to completion as soon as possible.

　　Qiao Gaoqi is still on his way.

　　The Eldar Death God Inard, who is still unconscious: You motherfucker! How could you be so selfish!
　　
　
(End of this chapter)