This is our Warhammer journey

Chapter 549 This is our company's business capability
Tell me everything you know.

Shifting his attention from the minor incident of Magnus's arrival, Ahriman looked back at the Eldar, who were prisoners but unusually arrogant.

I don't know who gave them the courage.

The soul fire in his hand burned fiercely, and countless shrieking, crazed phantoms streaked through the flames.

These souls all came from wizards, mortals, Astartes, and even those Chaos traitors in the Prodigal Warband who, after learning a little magic, dared to challenge Ahriman, the strongest wizard.

Their mad howls echoed throughout the empty library, and the flickering flames, the moment they appeared, involuntarily swept towards the Eldar who had been thrown to the ground.

Compared to Slaanesh, Tzeentch's methods of torturing people are no less ruthless; just look at the crazed demons and great monsters of the Chaos Realm.

Moreover, Ahriman is no ordinary person.

Unlike Kahn, Lucius, and Typhus, Ahriman never considered himself a servant of the Chaos God, nor did he believe he needed to use the power they had given him.

He didn't even consider himself Tzeentch's chosen one. Besides studying how to undo red spells, he even had time to think about how to ascend to godhood.

However, Tzeentch doesn't care whether mortals are devout or not; he only cares about their actions and ambitions.

Ahriman's resistance to fate—that is, Tzeentch's, his thirst for knowledge, and his relentless pursuit of success, along with his ability to regain confidence and start striving again after each failure, embodies the spirit of an outstanding Tzeentch follower. This stands in stark contrast to those arrogant Bluebirds who slack off all day, drawing salaries without doing any work!

Therefore, while the God of Change was tormenting Ahriman, he would tell everyone that Ahriman was his greatest and most outstanding champion warrior, even though Ahriman never admitted that he was Tzeentch's chosen one.

He was incredibly proud, even more so than of Magnus, his biological father.

To be honest, Ahriman really didn't care much about becoming a god.

The Chaos Octagon was something Ahriman genuinely didn't intend to hope for; he'd just look at it and forget about it. For an Astartes to chase after such a dream was simply insane.

As for lesser gods?

Ten thousand years ago, Ahriman hadn't even finished studying the Book of Magnus and reached his full potential, yet he was able to hang up and whip Birac in Terra. He even enslaved Birac for a long time after that battle, once again making an outstanding contribution to the stability of the Empire.

To put it bluntly, he has never hidden his intention to find the Black Library, but Xiao Shenqiao and Gao Qi have always chosen to hide the Black Library from him, which is enough to explain the situation.

These lesser gods might not actually be able to defeat Ahriman in a real fight.

What, you mean Primarch?

The original is special and cannot be generalized.

Moreover, according to rumors circulating within the upper echelons of the Unseen Heaven, in a future historical period, this chosen one of Tzeentch even easily defeated Incari, the incarnation of Death, forcing Ifreni, who was then the chosen one of Death, to escape in a rather unethical manner.

So, facing the Eldar who had been tricked by them and had brought Ahriman all the way to an empty library, they instinctively cowered, then looked at the guy who came from a clown background as if he were their leader.

At first, when they were caught, everyone planned to commit suicide and get rid of Kairun, but they were accidentally led astray by this clown's words, "No rush, let's play a trick on him a couple of times."

The main reason was that since we'd already been captured and were already here, and the opponent was Tzeentch's chosen one, it would be very satisfying to mess with him a bit.

Click~
Several spirit race members struggled against the psionic chains binding them, feeling the strength contained within them, and immediately felt numb.

They had a good time playing tricks on people, but now they're going to suffer a lot.

Is it too late to go for training in Comoros now?
The Ark Eldar, who were abstinent and sexually frigid decades ago, all turned their attention to this original idea, the clown.

Brother, you have two gods protecting you! Quickly give me some advice.

In other words, loyalty is not checked in the lower levels of Wuxiangtian; otherwise, every single one of these people would be expelled from the religion.

Is the Wuxiangtian (无相天) really too lenient?
Faced with a group of compatriots who were a little flustered after causing trouble but didn't want to suffer, the clown first shook his head helplessly, then gestured with his eyes that they were not afraid of anything.

Several fellow villagers took advantage of their holiday after completing a 40-year construction project to go back to their hometown and dig up ancestral soul stones from the ruins to send to Wuxiangtian so that everyone could live a good life and contribute high-quality human resources to the park. However, their encounter with the treacherous chosen one on the Internet was purely accidental and cannot be considered as them courting death.

As individuals who are eligible for vacations, their contribution value has long been sufficient to trigger mandatory property security protection agreements.

Besides, they themselves are assets that need to be protected.

At worst, he'll go bankrupt and be liquidated, working for the God of No Form for a few hundred years for nothing. After a few hundred years, he'll be a hero again.

What are a few hundred years to the Elven race?
Moreover, these terms and conditions are all written in black and white in the contract. When have you ever seen Lord Ramses renege on his debts?
The few Spirit Race members who realized what was happening immediately understood, and after recalculating their contribution points, they felt emboldened.

"Hehe, you can give it a try."

The Eldar from the Ark, who had previously been mocking Ahriman for not asking Tzeentch for help, immediately responded with a cold laugh.

In other words, his dark relatives are still under observation and it's a long way from them enjoying the treatment of Wuxiangtian. They can only be restricted to Wuxiangtian's key observation area as unstable assets. Otherwise, his relatives might have something to say about him.

"Then let's give it a try!"

Aliman has been tolerating these spirit races for a long time.

Upon confirming that these Eldar remained unfazed and continued to laugh and joke with him, Ahriman felt another wave of pain explode in his brain.

He sincerely believed that these aliens should be taught a lesson, so that they would know that upholding the etiquette of asking for help was never a sign of weakness.

However, as Ahriman's scepter began to flash, the air around him crackled and distorted.

A colossal, terrifying form emerged around them, spreading like water, but then rapidly grew, its phantom materializing into countless intertwined shapes such as crystals, spikes, fangs, and glowing, bestial eyes.

In an instant, all the Elven race fell silent.

An unsettling silence inevitably began to spread from their chests to their limbs and bones.

The silence was chilling, triggering an uncontrollable claustrophobia.

They were all alone, abandoned here, and what they had seen and heard—the demons, the chosen ones before them, the shrieking souls in the flames, the threat that once belonged to Slaanesh—began to brew and ferment in their memories.

They stood guard at their posts for countless hours, coughing and choking behind their masks, their ears filled with fearful sounds, and their eyes devoid of any light.

Now, the silence has extended their wait, eroded their remaining confidence, stripped them of their courage, and amplified their fear.

Fortunately, a sliver of unwavering light still protected their souls, preventing them from losing their composure under the onslaught of the illusory images of the gods.

In that terrifying silence, after the crackling of the air and the endless buzzing of the flowing spiritual energy, what was constantly rolling in their minds was the clicking sound of stacks of contracts being uttered from the ancient typewriter of the Formless Heaven, witnessed by each of them.

"Does torturing someone really involve such a long prelude?"

Having spent a long time with the Clown God and the Faceless God, he picked up a 21st-century modern accent and started speaking like a clown.

The lighthearted tone was like the cold air that calmed the lake surface against the gale, making the group of spirits chuckle.

The laughter and giggles rang out again, making the contract that was swirling in his mind even clearer.

Ahriman exhaled a long, steady breath.

“I sincerely hoped it would be more than that.”

He spoke somberly, activating the scepter.

“I sincerely hoped that you could at least recognize the stakes and show that you were aware of what you were about to face.”

"I am loyal to Ramses, and loyal to humanity."

The clown shouted, "Bring on whatever tricks you have, you traitor! I will never waver in my loyalty. As a legitimate demi-human of the Empire, I despise your betrayal."

Boom!

Psychic flames erupted from the tip of Ahriman's staff, forming a dazzling sphere of plasma that instantly engulfed the loudest clown.

But it's not over yet.

Physical death means nothing to the Eldar; what matters is their soul.

After confirming once again that these spirit races no longer had any soul storage items such as soul stones, Ahriman, panting heavily, reached out and grabbed at the clown who, even after his physical body was annihilated, still looked at him with a contemptuous attitude, like a butcher's nail going off, intending to snatch the flesh and blood of the Devourer of Worlds.

hum~
A faint light shone from the clown's soul.

"Humph!"

Ahriman reached out his hand.

boom!
Ahriman suddenly rose from the cold ground of the Black Library, his armor enveloped in a swirling, eerie light, covered with countless cracks.

He flew upwards, debris flying all around him. His vision was filled with distorted light and phantom-like premonitions that filled his entire field of vision: death, existence. Countless foreseen images constantly emerged and faded from one another.

Suddenly stunned by the unexpected blow, Ahriman instinctively looked ahead, trying to see who it was.

Right in front of him, bathed in blinding light, Ahriman saw through the heavily guarded Eldar revealing an incredibly astonishing being.

"It's him."

Ahriman's heart jumped into his throat.

He looked like the sun, two golden suns, yet his color was indiscernible. Inspiration kept emphasizing that the light was never the great being itself, but rather a part of what constituted that great being.

That ray of light, like the sun, and the shapes that stretched for an unknown distance around it.

The formless and shapeless Lord, the radiant God.

Facing Him directly would cause a great catastrophe.

Ahriman spun in the air, sensing the death threat looming over his skull, and stretched out his staff horizontally, ready to strike.

A whirlwind swirled, stirring the inscriptions hanging from the armor. He looked up at the phantom behind the light and discovered the majestic figure above the golden radiance. The golden eyes seemed to sense his astonished gaze and burst forth with countless dazzling lights.

A hot aura emanated from Ahriman's palms, which held the staff.

However, that being merely glanced at Ahriman before looking at the Spirit Race under its own radiance.

A pang of bitterness inevitably rose in the heart of the Chaos Wizard.

He completely severed his control over the Eldar prisoners.

and also--

Before Ahriman could even process the shock of the Eldar captives actually being able to summon the Faceless God, another thing that shook him to his core overwhelmed his mind.

He has probably caused a great disaster.

An indescribable panic began to spread in Ahriman's mind.

It was heard.

He looked at the Eldar who were already under the protection of the light, and with the looming threat of death, he could only move as far away as possible, hiding himself in the dark corners of the Black Library.

His conversation with Magnus was overheard by the Eldar.

As Ahriman pondered this more serious problem, he couldn't help but regret why he hadn't kept his earlier conversation a secret.

Loudly plotting wasn't unusual in the 40k era, because many things were said to the dead. After all, the universe has many ways to ensure that even if you die, your soul will still be in my hands.

This was Ahriman's arrogance; he always believed that these Eldar were already his, and never regarded them as a threat.

So he never even thought about it when he was talking to Magnus.

How to do?
what to do.
No, Ahriman, you can't panic. We finally found an opportunity to make a request to Magnus, and we finally got a clue to reverse the red numbers. I absolutely cannot give up.

For the Legion, for the Thousand Sons, for those fallen brothers.

After repeating his ideals several times, Ahriman tried to calm himself down during a brief internal struggle.

Thinking about it carefully, we only revealed our purpose, without showing any details. Dawnwing may not necessarily get any specific information.

Moreover, even the Emperor did not have information about the Wolf King Lemanrus. Only Magnus, who died at the hands of the Wolf King, could pinpoint his location by the hatred that symbolized one god killing another.

We can't panic. The Dawn Wings' attack on Comoros is a grand strategy, and it can't be stopped just like that. Even the Emperor of the Netdo has to step in again to stop the Greenskins. We can't just keep dragging this out.

That's right. The Empire's power is limited. Even with seven Primarchs at present, it will take some time before the Empire can truly stir up the world like it did during the Great Crusade. Time is on our side.

Countless thoughts of reassurance raced through his mind, and then he thought of the contract that could be used to blackmail Magnus, so Ahriman hesitated for a moment.

To prevent Magnus from using this as an excuse to renege on the debt, he decided not to tell Magnus first.

I did it for the Legion.

Leave the task of covering up their tracks to him.

Having silently finalized his plan and calmed his mind, Ahriman prepared to face the upcoming test. From afar, he tentatively used magic towards the uncertain light, unwilling to give up and wanting to challenge the strength of the protective contract.

However, the ripples stirred up by those seas of souls evaporated before they even touched the uncertain light.

"Hahaha!"

When the moment actually arrived at the execution of the property security agreement, the Spirit Clan members, who had been relatively reserved due to their past education, burst into wild laughter.

"Ariman, our souls are protected by the great god Ramses, the god of no form. After death, our souls will return to the heaven of no form, and we will eventually return again."

"And you? A traitor to humanity."

"Where can your vile soul go?!"

The Eldar laughed heartily, watching Ahriman flee in panic, until he finally vanished in the bright, uncertain light.

The Thousand Sons Wizard remained, consumed by uncontrollable rage.
-

"These are the obligations we need to fulfill."

Ramses, who was explaining the soul rental agreement in detail, twirled the laser pointer he was using as a medium.

It turned around and then started again.

The golden rays, representing the empire's mainstream aesthetic, were now pointing towards the inspection team, organized by Guilliman and led by Zandrek, composed of emperors and overlords from multiple dynasties, who were carefully observing the PowerPoint presentation being played before them.

(End of this chapter)