This is our Warhammer journey

Chapter 451 Death: You think you can kill me? (6k)

Ark World, Bietan, Eternal Circuit

Hu~hu~
Qiao Gaoqi could hear his own breathing.

Throughout his long and supernatural life, the Clown God has experienced many perils, some of the most terrifying of which occurred in the recent horrific catastrophe that tore open the Eye of Fear. Those encounters have become blurred over time, leaving only a series of increasingly perilous escapes and a lack of peace of mind in any place he was ever in.

A series of high notes suddenly bursting out from a long, dull melody has always been the clown's fate. But for Chocobo, his dullness has lasted for countless millennia, so the recent burst of high notes is so vivid and so difficult for him to handle.

However, nothing he had experienced in his life could compare to the path he was on now.

He stood drenched in sweat in this realm that now belonged to another group of gods, his forehead burning and his hands trembling uncontrollably. He knew he had a fear of being forgotten, of dying without doing anything, of being unable to do anything. The feeling of facing his fear caused the fight-or-flight response to sweep through his body, and this torment called weakness brought him to the brink of collapse.

Their era had passed. For ten thousand years, he had struggled to survive, avoiding the nauseating nightmares depicted in the fragments of the Eldar prophecies, and the thought of giving up never crossed his mind.

Now the aftereffects are beginning to emerge.

When hope is truly seen, giving up seems like a reasonable option.

Qiao Gaoqi could still smell these scents anywhere, such as his own breath or the inside of his billowing robes.

But he couldn't allow himself to break down.

Not yet.

Perhaps after a few centuries he would choose to give up and end it all, but now he is closer than ever to his goal. Although not everything is in place, he has already seen hope.

Hang in there a little longer, Qiao Gaoqi.

The Clown God maintained the demeanor of a jester seeking to please his monarch, and spoke to himself.

Once we actually reach that point, you can break down however you want.

Now you are surrounded by strangers, completely unfamiliar gods. Do not show your true fear, do not show it in front of them.

Just like you do best, please them with words, play the clown, become a clown.

He was doing his best, head held high and chest out.

His mouth was dry and he was in a panic.

But he cannot fall.

"The heroes of this world are truly as numerous as carp crossing a river."

Arthur raised his sword, looking at the gleaming edge of the blade in his hand.

The silver grooves embedded in the outer edge of the black sword blade reflected the image of the Clown God.

Ryan agrees.

To give up oneself, even one's dignity, for the survival of a race—the lion knew that his pride could not allow him to do so.

He could die, but he would not accept having to grovel before a group of strangers just to let others live.

Especially when standing on the throne that can determine the fate of the race.

"If they had the power, who would be willing to do that?"

Ramses whispered.

This is a last resort, since the differences in the power of individuals within this universe are a real phenomenon.

There are many heroes like the Phoenix Lord and the Old Prophet, but due to the current situation, the Old Prophet can only ruin his reputation with wild attempts that he himself is not sure about, and the Phoenix Lord can only pretend to be a sycophant and keep the situation within the Bietan stable, so as to buy more time for himself to further understand the new god in front of him and delay the overall decline of the race.

But these people can't do much.

The power they wield means they can't represent too many things.

The old prophet's repeated attempts were more like a performance that made the gods laugh. If the Phoenix Lord really wanted to do something, he would probably be sent to the guillotine by his fanatical subjects.

Actually, the same goes for Qiao Gaoqi; there are many things he can't use and many things he can't do.

Unlike Vashtor, who can still dream, the path of the Clown God is truly blocked by all sorts of monsters and demons.

But those who truly represent and make decisions about all of this are too beastly.

You could say you could completely detach yourself from the influence of other life forms, but you've come this far and still have so much to say. If you want to mess with me, fine, I'll give in. But these beings that have formed a certain symbiotic relationship with believers are unable to detach themselves, and may even suffer a backlash.

This leads to decisions that seem to harm everyone but themselves, essentially throwing everyone into a cesspool.

It is clearly stated that these are the Star Gods and the main gods of the Spirit Race.

Now, to actually allow a clown to ascend the throne of the Eldar pantheon, to have a clown exhausting all his power to flaunt everything he possesses in order to secure a future for his race, is a failure for their entire group, not a failure for the clown.

"you--"

Ramses looked at the grinning Chogochi, clutching a part of the Grim Reaper's avatar in his hand, and after a strange expression for a long time, finally gave a thumbs up.

"You are this"

"Haha, that's right, it's all for humanity."

The Clown God burst into laughter, still looking as carefree as ever.

Ramses almost burst out laughing.

"Let's deal with Inard's issue first, and then we can discuss the relevant cooperation details. Is it okay for you to keep an eye on things?"

He shook his head and decided to get down to business.

Arthur and Karna usually handle internal issues, while he and Roger handle foreign affairs.

“I can give you access to the intranet. You can talk to Romulus first. He’s responsible for making the overall decisions for our team.”

The main reason is that Romulus doesn't personify his race when discussing serious matters. Just as he doesn't apply stereotypes when recruiting scientists from the Tau Empire's earth clans, he naturally doesn't have too many positive feelings towards the Eldar behind him just because the Joker God is a bit better.

The Joker should theoretically be able to become friends with them. There are many heroes in this universe, but very few who can connect on the same wavelength. However, even brothers should keep clear accounts.

"Ok, Ok."

Chogochi expressed his approval and glanced at Evelynn.

Prioritizing the interests of your own people is a good thing, because it means that once you become one of their own, the other side won't treat you unfairly.

How to become one of their own is his problem.

Eldar are notorious for their fickleness and capriciousness, as can be seen from the Slaanesh. Therefore, there will likely be many bizarre events in the future that will test the patience of the Dawnwings. The Dawnwings will probably not tolerate Eldar and will definitely take strong measures.

good thing.

Qiao Gaoqi always felt that the biggest reason for the collapse of the Spirit Clan Empire was not Isha's pampering, but Asuyan's inaction.

Even if he issued an edict hundreds of years later, it wouldn't turn out like this.

And that damned Lilith, why did she keep making these wild predictions? She's the idiot who caused the Eldar gods to sever their connection with the Eldar, and one of the war criminals born from Slaanesh.

"Here, continue."

"okay."

After a series of nodding and bowing to connect the communication, as a sense of responsibility took over, the sense of crisis that had been lurking around me disappeared without me even realizing it.

His responsibility is to secure a future for the Eldar.

"Hello~ Is this Lord Romulus?"

The Clown God connected the communication.

"I am Qiao Gaoqi, the laughing god of the human race."

"I have a lot of things here that you might find useful. Could you take a look at them when you have time? The Black Library's materials are genuine and reliable."

"Well, if all else fails, I can just make a finished product here and send it over. I've been working on this for years, so my skills are still there."

"It's alright, no trouble at all. It's just serving humanity."

"."

"My goodness."

Tarachin put down the camera, looking incredulous.

He glanced at the Sunbeam Messenger, who was filled with sorrow and a hint of resentment, then turned his head to look at Uslan, who seemed relieved as if he might die at any moment.

What do you do when you're clearly in the lead, but the opposing team has a big shot who snatches the wheel and drives straight to the finish line with sparks and lightning?
What about Szalak, the Silent King?

Check the status of the Silent King —

Although it was loaded with a soul, the brain, still running on the galaxy's most advanced computing system, quickly revealed the undead realm of space, still twisted together by civil war, selfishness, and pride.

With the threat of the Zerg swarm outside and a large-scale civil war inside, the Skinner virus that has penetrated deep into the population is in front, and the burden of the escaped Star God fragments is behind. The Storm King rebels only for the thrill of battle, while the Silent King remains the twisted Riddler. The ideological chaos of the various dynasties is even more exaggerated than that of the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms.

Miracle Walker is still farming jungle camps!
Tarahim clutched his head in his hands, feeling as if the sky had fallen.

Is there not a single normal person among the leaders of this universe?

It's not that I'm expecting you to surrender. The Necromancers are all dead anyway, they've all fallen to the bottom, there's no need for them to fawn over each other. But you can just engage in proper diplomacy, technical cooperation, and trade with the Wings of Dawn. The Necromancers' pile of useless civilian and computer technologies in space could be exchanged for countless souls.

He should have borrowed a squad of assassins from the Lesser Inquisitor to assassinate the Storm King, then put Zandrek the Crowned One in power, orchestrated a scheme to have the Dawnwing kill Szalak, and then recommended Zandrek to become the leader of the Triune Council!

No!

Tarasin looked through his network of contacts.

Okay, actually they're all his creditors.

Turning to the list of his own emperors, he cursed under his breath that his own leader was also a complete senile old man who had given up completely. Turning to the next section, Tarasin decided that he also had to do something for his race.

This can't go on any longer. We must find a respectable and legitimate emperor to initiate formal diplomacy. Otherwise, the longer we drag this out, the worse the necromancers' technological advantage will become, and we won't even get a chance to make progress.

Look how much progress the Eldar have made.
-
It's very cold here.

It's very cold.

Streaks of white frost spread across the rough stone.

In addition, the smell of burning souls filled the air.

The chosen one, Ifreni, stared in astonishment at the sword she held. The once empty Eternal Circuit before her now shone with a brilliance that had only been possible during the Eldar Empire, as Ramses infused it with his soul.

There is something here, though it is not yet visible, it still occupies this place.

Ifrena felt herself being enveloped by some power.

This made her instinctively want to get away.

"do not move."

Ramses' voice echoed in my head.

"Keep it as it is, don't be afraid. Once it's in my hands, even Salamanca can't take it away."

He is injecting pure soul power into the Eternal Circuit. As a death god born deep within the Eternal Circuit, as long as the amount is sufficient, this pure soul power will be enough to support his awakening.

As for where pure souls come from, let's not ask that yet.

"."

Whether it falls into your hands or into the hands of a demon, I don't know which outcome would be worse.

The young Eldar couldn't help but mutter to himself, and when he thought of the demons he had seen in the park, he instinctively shuddered.

Do you know how the minimum soul capacity required to maintain the operation of 99,999 demons, and the safe threshold of demon engine energy, were measured in the Book of Ramses?

she knows.

"How did you end up empathizing with a demon?" Ramses' voice rang out again.

Instead of thinking about this, you should think about what to eat tomorrow.

"."

Ifrena quickly composed herself.

When she activated the spiritual energy field on the guardian spear, a dazzling light shone in the space, and the shadows around her quickly receded, leaving only a patch of uneven darkness in front of the altar, a black mass without reflection, bowing its head.

"Go away!"

The power of death launched a counterattack, seemingly engaging in a fierce tug-of-war with Ramses.

The black mass wriggled, stretched, and then began to twist, like a hen laying an egg, from which a pale gray head emerged.

The head was missing an eye, replaced by a purple horn. On the chest, apart from the feminine curves, a solitary cavity occupied most of the space, surrounded by tiny, sharp teeth.

"Go away!"

He spoke, and his loose, thick lips trembled morbidly, releasing a violent force.

"Ah."

Countless spells were unleashed, instantly trapping the avatar in place.

The plaza was torn apart in an instant by the power of death, and the dead microorganisms piled up a shallow layer of dust on the ground. In this 'confrontation', Ramses was drawing away the power of death that had been sent by Chogochi and pre-loaded into the Eternal Circuit.

These forces were pre-loaded with some reactions, and although limited by their weakness, the resistance could not last long, and Inard could glimpse the sophistication of the performance.

It is remarkably lifelike.

"Being in the eternal circuit of Beetleton," Inard commented, giving the clown a slightly higher opinion of him.

But now is clearly not the time to make judgments.

"It's time for me to leave."

Inard, or rather, the incarnation of Death, arrogantly watched as Ragnaros II, who was 'focused on dealing with' the decoy, decisively chose to leave.

He did not choose to take possession of the old woman's sword currently held by Ifreni. It was fine for his chosen one to benefit from this bit of death power, and his physical body could find other old woman's swords as anchors in the present world.

Ramses did not act immediately.

He was still observing, trying his best to trick Death out of the cradle of eternal circuits without provoking him.

An Ark world is still very valuable. Although the Eternal Circuit was most likely destroyed due to the birth of the Grim Reaper, the Ark itself is of great research value. I believe that Kaul and his team will not give up such a complete research facility.

Because Carney was unimpeded, he easily escaped from the Eternal Circuit and passed through the ancient passage of the Ark World as if nothing had happened.

It was an interesting journey. Once he crossed the network of the Gate of Limits to the east, he was like a dragon entering the ocean, with the world at his disposal.

The further you go, the better things get.

The entire Ark world became empty, with few informants left except for those traitors who had converted to the Outer Gods.

The spaceport itself was enveloped in a captivating stillness, trembling under the pale light emanating from a rare waxy substance, devoid of any living being. Strange cries echoed through the silent passageways, and the inorganic water gathered in the pond rippled gently.

He looked around at the various traps that seemed to have been set up for him, and almost laughed.

Ramses was a cunning fox.

no more chance.

He lifted his leg, about to step into the net.

"and many more."

A hand was placed on his shoulder.

It was Ramses!
Qiao Gaoqi, you schemed against me!

Incari roared inwardly.

An aura of death emanated from him, forming a turbulent, gray-purple cloud.

This allowed the power that caused instant death to all living beings to be sealed within a certain area by psychic energy.

Unlike when facing the mysterious clown god Chocobo, Ramses was well aware of the fighting power of the incarnation of Death because there was plenty of information about his appearance.

They can't beat Tzeentch's Chosen, Ahriman, who's been fooled by Laughing God and is still wandering around the netherworld with a fake map.

Naturally, it was impossible for him to defeat him.

"You can let me go."

Incari said, “I am completely harmless. I have no influence on your existence. I am merely a product of your birth. The Eldar are not beings worthy of your protection.”

Ramses remained vigilant.

"We need you, but you are too unstable."

"You and me, us."

Ramses pointed at Incani's face.

Only one of us is alive.

"Ha~"

Incari replied with a cold laugh:

"You are not safe at all. Let me leave, and I will stand on your side. In the future, we can feast together."

"I do not think so."

Ramses smiled broadly.

"You'll stay here; it's the easiest and safest way. Trust me, it will be quick."

"What do you think? How can you even think for yourself? How arrogant you outward gods are, daring to judge the life and death of a god based on your own sensory preferences? What right do you have? I don't see it."

The grinning mouth opened even wider, and the roar of death resounded.

"Let me see just how fast you can go!"

The candle flames stopped flickering, frozen in time like a still image.

The body of the Grim Reaper suddenly rose upwards and sped outwards, with gray-purple flames spreading out at an exaggerated speed, obscuring the view.

Ramses dispelled the murky gray mist with a strike as bright as day. His long staff swept diagonally across the gaping maw, and the extended mist, along with flesh and blood, tore into countless fragments, which then gathered together and wriggled to form many new bodies.

These creatures, which could extinguish any life activity with a mere touch, seemed to fill the hall, surging towards the lone Ramses, and the entire space was immersed in a void-like purplish-gray ripple.

The first moment passed by, and time remained seemingly frozen in that moment.

But Ramses knew the deception within this grand spectacle.

He endured the attacks of these creations, his gaze fixed firmly on Incari.

Incari turned and ran toward the exit of the net passage.

Then he rushed into an endless forest.

The lion, which had been preparing for the hunt for a long time, pounced.

"Where do you think you're going to run off to?!"

The roar was full of majesty, announcing the arrival of the true master of the hunting grounds.

Without hesitation, Ryan swung his sword, intercepting the fleeing Grim Reaper avatar with lightning speed, and the Lion Sword plunged into the Grim Reaper avatar's body.

Then his second sweeping strike cut Incari in half at the waist, extinguishing the gray-purple flames that were about to spread.

In the blink of an eye, countless forms identical to the Eldar wailed in agony, fragments scattering and splashing onto the surrounding trees. Ryan, with all his might, squeezed out every bit of power he possessed and lunged at the original avatar, piercing through the grotesque body encased in purple armor, like a Slaanesh demon, and pinning it to the hall floor.

Arthur, who was about to make a move, couldn't help but chuckle. After Ryan finished, he stepped closer and nodded to him.

The second moment passed, and Incari writhed on the ground, uttering vicious words.

Ryan could sense the similarity between himself and the other, and he could feel the essence of the other trembling within the blade. Through these emanating auras, he glimpsed another world, an endless world created from pain and resentment, meant only to destroy everything.

This transcendent being, who should have been the guide of all living beings, influencing the fate of countless creatures, will be devoured by them because of this failure.

Ryan experienced his fear and resentment in a way that would be completely unbearable for a god.

Clang!
In the third instant, the blade shrouded in darkness sliced ​​across her neck.

This was the last sound Incari heard before his consciousness was disconnected.

Call ~
Ramses caught the dissipating grayish-purple flames, then his entire body dissipated, transforming into a small sphere that sealed the power of death.

Snapped!
Beside Arthur, Ramses reached out and caught their spoils.

The forest receded, and the candles began to flicker, illuminating three perfectly intact bodies.

"So fast."
-
Ok?
Amidst the echoes of surprise and anger from onlookers, Slaanesh, who was playing with the old woman's sword on the bed, suddenly sprang up.

Death is no longer whole.

He can no longer represent the Spirit Race.

This puzzled the Lord of Pleasure, who then turned his attention to the real universe.

He hasn't been paying attention to the real universe for some time now.

Since the Battle of Kardia, when the gap between Forgrim and the other four was realized, Slaanesh, as the weakest of the four gods, has basically been in a precarious position.

After all, everyone knows how decisive Slaanesh is. Once he makes up his mind, he can be distracted by some fun along the way, and after he's had his fun, he might not even remember what his original purpose was.

Moreover, it's obvious to the naked eye that there's absolutely no hope of getting those four.

This has directly led to a difficult period for all members of the Sixth Ring Road recently.

Sigh, I'm daydreaming again.

Imagine that during Pierard's great sacrifice, only He, a transcendent being, intervened. In his ears, he hears Romulus's ambition to save all of humanity from despair, and beside him is the knowledge that Ramses explored from the endless warp, driven by his thirst for knowledge.

My hands embraced the Knight Lord, savoring his restrained charm.

Slaanesh sighed, got up from the bed, and wanted to summon Forgrim, only to find that the boy had not yet paid off the debt he had helped him settle.

Hey ~
Thinking of this, the god of pleasure lost interest in reality, pulled the bed up, picked up the old woman's sword from the bed, and began to relieve his boredom by inserting it into his body.

Although it's unclear what happened, it seems He no longer needs to worry about the awakening of Death?
win!
　P.S.: Waaaaah, it's late, sorry, but I wrote quite a bit more and finished the whole plot.
　　Characters
　　Laughing God: Although I was very scared, I still went.

　　Emperor's Fourth Head: Although I admire him greatly, I'll still handle things professionally. There's nothing wrong with being friends with the God of Laughter himself.

　　Eldar: Moved, guilty, and experiencing complex emotions.

　　Tarasin: My teammates are all hopeless.

　　Inard: We've been tricked! The Wings of Dawn are extremely arrogant; they attempt to decide the life and death of gods.

　　Ryan: I'm going to do my best to turn the tide!
　　Slaanesh: You lazy dog ​​who wins by doing nothing!

　　When it comes to character design
　　Storm King: Fighting acne is awesome!

　　The Silent King: A complete freak. You'd better not be on his team. Every thought he has is an apocalyptic disaster, usually targeting his teammates.

　　The Crowned One: Nicknamed the Old General, he was highly respected during the time of the Fearful Ones and was a candidate for the throne, but he had no desire for power. He feigned madness, was full of philosophical thinking, had an extremely clear understanding of himself, and also had clear ideas about the current state of his race.
　　A famous quote: "What truly matters is that we still understand loyalty, respect, friendship, and other virtues that even those who fear the dead still value. Metal bodies, endless lifespans, and even anxieties about whether we are still 'ourselves' are irrelevant."

　　
　
(End of this chapter)