This is our Warhammer journey

Chapter 531 It is a sad thing that there is no one in this world you can trust.

The Formless Heaven.

Even in the notoriously cruel subspace, a faint warmth has finally crept into the air in this era.

Although the warp continues to send danger signals to all sentient beings, their inspiration is no longer solely driven by fear as it once was.

It's like ancient humans venturing into the wilderness finally figuring out the prototype of tools, no longer having to passively evade wild beasts; or like the Eldar, struggling for survival on a barbaric planet, unexpectedly encountering an ancient sage, from which the mysteries of the starry sky instantly unfolded before them, and their path forward gained direction.

A tiny glimmer of hope is emerging in everyone's hearts. Even though this hope is still very fragile and needs to be nurtured and cared for by countless people day after day without stopping, it has finally broken through the soil of despair and sprouted a new bud.

As a true living fossil, Taraxin is very clear about this.

This new sprout had briefly appeared in this universe, only to be swallowed up by war and darkness. Now, it has miraculously sprouted a new life force in the cracks of the warp.

Taracin huddled in a corner, waving a half-finished cup of coffee in his hand.

His gaze was somewhat unfocused, falling on the crowd of people coming and going not far away, among those diverse faces.

The Eldar are delicate, humans are resolute, and the undead are cold. Everyone moves about busily, yet there is no sense of antagonism. Instead, there is a rare harmony.

"What's wrong with you now? Is there poison in your coffee?"

Ramses expertly elbowed his opponent, completely unconcerned that the Tin Man drinking coffee was too peculiar in terms of style.

The technology of space necromancers relies on mechanical bodies to simulate almost all life activities. High-level, technologically advanced necromancer overlords like Tarasin can even directly possess carbon-based life forms by controlling bioelectricity. Biological senses are nothing new to them.

"Don't worry about Feng Wufeng getting beheaded. Are we that kind of people?"

Ramses pointed to the Milky Way projected from inside the Formless Heaven.

"I swear by the stars that I will never kill a meritorious official. I promise you the position of curator of the Museum of Human History for life."

While it's darkly humorous to appoint a space necromancer as the curator of a human history museum, there's no other way. One of Tarachin's great prophetic enemies had already foreseen many key historical events 60 million years in the future. Tarachin, who was particularly interested in humanity from the beginning, was someone who, apart from a few immortals, witnessed almost the entirety of human history.

When Ramses and Arthur went to clear out Tarachin's inventory, they found many familiar items, such as serenades, a Mozart performance, a physics photograph that Tarachin had replicated using his own body, a crucifix of Jesus' crucifixion, an inscription of Yu the Great's flood control efforts, and the first space satellite.
Also, a series of historical moments from the Dark Ages.
There is also the Imperial Seal of the State.

Your words make me even more afraid.

Faced with Ramses's sudden interruption, Tarachin was initially puzzled, wondering if his father was busy with work. Then, after considering Ramses's character, he simply spoke up.

"I'm reminiscing."

Reflecting on my past life, recalling the footprints I've left along the way.

In this era where the Milky Way plunges headlong into the abyss, only to suddenly rise again, a question that has troubled him for a long time resurfaces in his mind: he has benefited, but what else can he do?

In the past, Tarachin had always wandered the galaxy as an observer, because unlike some space necromancers who still clung to wishful thinking, he knew very well that the Fear of the Dead were completely extinct on the spiritual level.

So he simply abandoned his obsession with the race and started looking for other forms of entertainment.

Now, he has discovered a solution for the future of his race, but in terms of status and character, he seems to have no way to interfere with the space undead.

The figure collector is currently in a dilemma.

He is often very proactive in pursuing his personal hobbies, but if you ask him to do something that could change the course of his life, he becomes somewhat at a loss.

Looking back, Tarachin felt like a leaf helplessly adrift in a storm, constantly being pushed forward by some unseen torrent, only able to record what happened along the way and do nothing but satisfy his own needs.

This feeling has intensified now, especially after gaining a soul, becoming one with the Wings of Dawn, and joining a promising organization.

"I was thinking about some sad things."

Tarasin sighed again and replied slowly.

"What's sad about it?"

Ramses asked, "Tell me so I can have a laugh."

"."

Tarasin's expression froze as he looked at Ramses with an air of 'Tell me your sad story and I'll cheer you up.'

After a few seconds of silence, he slowly spoke:

“I think you’re quite suitable for the Vicious Arts position, aside from Unpredictable Twisting.”

After saying that, he glanced at Ramses again and changed the subject, saying, "Have you finished your work?"

"That is."

Ramses, who felt no pressure at all, was all smiles.

This is what it's like when you're not working; I feel like this character is the most relaxed in terms of mental state among all the characters in Dawn of Wings.

Lord Arthur heard that he used to be quite cheerful, but now he seems numb. It's not that he's bitter and resentful, but rather that his environment has indeed changed him a lot.

Lord Karna has always been cheerful, but he is too empathetic. Given the hellish conditions at the grassroots level of the Empire, only heaven knows the bitterness in his heart.

Lord Romulus, needless to say, just look at those snowflake-like documents and you can tell he's suffered enough.

"That's good."

Tarasin couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for Lord Romulus's liver, and sincerely wished this top-tier weightlifting champion of the galaxy eternal health.

Then I think of Ramses's willingness to unreservedly shift blame to his comrades, with an attitude that his brothers could do anything.

Tarasin's expression grew even more bitter, feeling that he was almost able to empathize with Romulus.

If only the Silent King, the supreme leader of the space necromancers, could consult the opinions of his subordinates before making any decisions.

He didn't want to be transformed by the Star God back then, but the Silent King waved his hand and said, "This is a necessary choice to save the race," and then he was captured and forcibly transformed.

When the Emperor of the Dynasty met with the Silent King, he advised him not to rashly destroy the Supreme Agreement. The Silent King replied, "Their lives should not be enslaved by the Agreement; this is for atonement." With a wave of his hand, he destroyed it, and the entire Necromancer in space was completely scattered.

And now they're back and want unification again, saying things like, 'I helped you conquer vast territories outside, so don't stay in the galaxy anymore, come with me. And don't even think about finding your souls anymore. As for that talk about waiting for the species to recover before becoming the galactic overlord, I was just kidding.'

Storm King was not satisfied, and the two sides started fighting.

What did you do earlier?

Ramses raised an eyebrow at Tarasin's posture.

To be honest, he had a good impression of the King of Figurines.

In the 40k universe, where ruthless individuals and extraordinary beings abound, a collector who has a hobby of collecting, whose approach is to remain uninvolved, observe until the end of the story, and even provide high salaries to his alien subordinates is truly a breath of fresh air.

Although the methods were unethical, the illegally collected artifacts have all been recovered by Dawnwing, so in the end, no irreparable damage was caused; on the contrary, it helped a lot.

One thing that Dawnwing could accept about Tarasin in the past was that he was essentially the type to not interfere.

His method of 'collecting' that historical information was indeed unethical, but the occurrence and progress of this history, whether good or bad, had nothing to do with him personally.

At most, Tarasin should have remained an observer and witnessed everything; getting him involved would have been inconsistent with his art of collecting.

In this regard, Tarachin's nemesis, the astrologer Auricane, is a complete negative example.

Tarachin's main selling point is non-interference; after watching the entire story, you can simply collect it and be done with it. If you have the means to gather the cast, you can even watch it on an infinite loop to enjoy it to your heart's content.

Auricane, who specializes in physics predictions, is all about ruthless interference. If his predictions are inaccurate, he might even use time-travel techniques to travel to a specific point in time and change the outcome to his liking.

Although I often get beaten up by various heroes because I'm too weak.

Even if we could roll back, it would just mean getting beaten up again in a different way.

A few years ago, when I took Tarachin down into the tomb, we dug up the old zombie of the Deceitful Star God. Luckily, we didn't send them both away.

Tarahim's current personal style and mindset are not keeping up with his spiritual needs, making him seem somewhat conflicted.

Since everyone was already in a mess and there was no hope anyway, I decided to just pursue my personal hobbies and live life as it comes.

Now there is a glimmer of hope. After all, Tarachin is a space necromancer, and he also hopes that his race can exist better. Otherwise, the Nihirak dynasty would have gone mad and chosen a treacherous spirit as its overlord.

I don't do anything, I feel like I'm living a good life now, but my conscience can't bear to see my fellow countrymen suffering so much.

I had a plan in mind, but after considering the historical context of the Necromancers in space and then checking their identity verification, I was completely overwhelmed and lost all confidence.

Given that Tarachin had to be extremely careful when interfering in historical events, let alone interfering in the fate of a race.

He's never done anything of this caliber before.

Ultimately, it all boils down to a lack of confidence.

They didn't believe in their own abilities, their own judgment, or the spirits in space, and they certainly didn't believe they couldn't withstand the pressure of making a choice.

This judgment surprised Ramses.

He thought that someone as carefree as the "Figure King" wouldn't have any psychological problems.

Now they're starting to consider the consequences. Why didn't they think about this when they were collecting things for personal enjoyment? They even dared to collect the emperor's clock.

Ramses chuckled inwardly at his old friend, the Wings of Dawn, and after a moment's thought, he roughly understood what the figure was fussing about, and then simply spoke up.

"It is a very sad thing that there is no one in this world you can trust."

"?"

Tarasin raised his head and looked at Ramses, who had suddenly started to speak philosophically, wanting to see what the other was up to this time.

"This means you either have to work yourself to the bone, do everything yourself, or you have to anxiously urge others to do it, or you have to fearfully beg your superiors to do it, but—"

Ramses replied with a smile, quite at ease with his approach of taking charge of more specific tasks while delegating execution to his colleagues. "Fortunately, I happen to have them."

This composure is a form of belief.

Pure self-confidence.

Trust your companions' abilities, and trust your own judgment.

I also believe that if either of them really can't handle it anymore, they will speak up, and the work will be shared when it's time to share, instead of bottling it up.

If you want to succeed, you must first have confidence in yourself; otherwise, you'll exhaust yourself with all the constant worrying and doubt.

"Oh"

Tarachin now understood what Ramses meant.

It's like seeing your best buddy is feeling down, and you come over to show off how awesome you are. Tell us what's going on and see if your awesome buddy can solve it.

"."

Tarasin scratched his head. Even though they had known each other for a long time, he still felt awkward thinking about the other person's identity.

Imagine one day Tzeentch randomly picks up someone he's only known for less than a hundred years, pats him on the shoulder, and says, "Brother, if you have any troubles, tell me, and I'll help you figure something out."

Tarahin's expression turned somewhat terrifying.

"It's not a big deal."

He immediately replied:
"I'm just a little jealous because I think the Elven race is doing so well."

Although he didn't know why Ramses was willing to get involved in such a trivial matter, he was still quite touched by it.

"That's right. Even the Clown God has come. The pre-selected Isa is quite reliable. At least she's not very smart but she can still obey."

Ramses nodded sincerely.

Could you please stop bringing this up?
Thinking about this, Tarasin couldn't help but feel a headache for his own pendulums and heavyweights.

However, he also understood the implied meaning.

It means that, just like people believe in the clown god, they still trust you, Tarachin. You should explain what you want to do first, and then everyone can help you make a decision.

Ramses' eyes darted around.

Let me stretch it out for you.

Ramses hooked his arm around Tarasin's shoulder, looking like he was giving his good brother advice.

"You simply have higher demands for the current state of the race, but you don't know what to do about it, right?"

"Yes."

Tarasin hesitated for a moment, then nodded in agreement.

The two maintained their arm-in-arm posture.

"So your demand regarding race should be to have a new option, and let them make their own decisions, right?"

"Yes."

"So you find yourself unable to represent your race, and you're struggling with what to do, right?"

"more or less."

Tarasin, the Necromancer Overlord of Solemnas, looked embarrassed.

"So you probably shouldn't expect to win over many people. Let alone those who are still living in the War of Heaven, at least the Silent King's approval is definitely not there."

That's definitely not something to look forward to.

Tarachin didn't reply, shaking his head vigorously.

King Silent absolutely refused to believe it.

It's one thing to act on a whim, but it's quite another to make the wrong choices at every point in time.

"That's almost it."

Ramses nodded, and with his free right hand, he began to count on his fingers for Tarasin.

"First, you want to do more for your race."

"Secondly, you have a low status within your race and can't do much."

"Third, your race's leader is not trustworthy. He doesn't look like a ruler at all. There are also many crazy people sleeping around inside. It's a whole bunch of misfits. It feels like the end of a dynasty."

As soon as Ramses finished speaking, Tarasin felt like he was dying.

I have a feeling that the future of the Necromancers in space is completely hopeless.

"I think we can start with the simple things first. Don't try to get fat in one step."

Ramses simply offered advice.

"Think about whether the Necromancers still have any dynasties that you think can cooperate with us, and we don't need to submit to them directly. Let's start with a deal first, and then talk about integration."

Tarasin thought for a moment, and a bunch of familiar faces went through his mind.

It really does.

The traveler Anlakel and the crowned Zandrek, though somewhat neurotic from sleeping for so long, at least still had their brains working.

“I think Anlakel and Zandrek are good, and some old guys too, you guys—”

Taracin quickly announced his choice and sought Ramses's opinion.

"It's not that we think so, we don't know these people at all."

Ramses pointed to his head, gesturing to Tarasin.

"Think about it, think about it carefully. If you were in our position, would you choose these people as partners and try to recruit them?"

This single sentence immediately gave Tarahim a new position.

He felt that the "Figure King" lacked confidence; as one of the early partners of Dawn Wings, he should have been more confident.

The confidence represented by the space necromancers residing at the Wings of Dawn.

It's not that I'm begging you to join me, but rather whether I'll choose you to join me.

Dawnwing doesn't want powerful figures like Storm King and Silent King as teammates. They also don't accept Dark Eldar who didn't pass the selection process by the Jester's Troupe. That's the same principle.

Do they really think they'll take anyone?

Moreover, those extraordinary people on the other side might not agree.

Tarasin listened in a daze, then thought about it and it seemed to make sense.

Although I'm just a necromancer overlord, I at least found a way for you guys. The fact that I came to find you is already giving you face. Why should I waste my time fighting amongst myself?

"I think it's okay!"

Tarasin nodded, indicating that he had figured it out.

“Dawnwing can win over these members, and I can act as their representative to coordinate.”

Whether it succeeds or not is another matter; the important thing is that he believes he can do it.

After saying that, he took out a multidimensional Rubik's Cube, wanting to give Ramses a detailed explanation.

Ramses waved his hand in refusal.

"?"

Tarachin typed a question mark.

"This has nothing to do with me. Let's go find Master Ya."

Ramses waved his hand, indicating that he shouldn't let a list that had nothing to do with him occupy his brain cells, which were eager for rest.

“We’ve been preparing how to deal with Comoros lately. Chaos’s involvement is basically inevitable. We need to win over all parties. We’ll go to Master Ya first. If he thinks it’s feasible, we’ll ask Lao Luo to draft the documents, and then we’ll get started.”

Having finished speaking, having successfully completed an extra task, he and Tarasin opened a portal.

"It would be good to bring in another batch of allies before the battle. Let's not talk about technology sharing and racial integration for now, let's talk about mercenary deals. You space necromancers fighting Eldar should be your old specialty."

"Oh oh oh."

Tarasin responded and quickly followed.

The good news is that within the leadership of Dawnwing, thanks to the absolute authority of everyone within the organization and the highly concentrated consciousness of all parties, they don't need any lengthy and ineffective wrangling meetings.

As long as the four of them reach a consensus, even the most outrageous proposals can be implemented swiftly and decisively the next day.

This is the efficiency of centralized power.

Of course, this is on the premise that the leader is wise enough.

(End of this chapter)