Warhammer: Black Emperor

Chapter 862 Ning Lu's mastery of subspace travel is actually no less than mine.
Nimrod gazed at the Origin of Heraf, a being with a half-bat, half-human body, from the shadowy side of the “Land of Chaos.”

"Have you finished reading? The contract I signed with you is fair, and it's your only option now."

The Originator did not answer; he examined the High Gothic words on the paper one by one once more.

Yulman serves Nimrul, carrying out all his orders, including but not limited to mind parasitism and primal space travel...

Yulman and his kind can parasitize the mind and devour the real world, but their targets cannot be humans.

Yulman and his kind are not permitted to take any action against the "Shadow of Order" and its affiliates, or against any worlds.

...]

The whiskers under Yulman’s jaw swayed, and although Nimrod had restricted his hunting range considerably, it was still an opportunity for the species to continue.

Moreover, the Heraf tribe has lost its former size and now only has himself left.

In the past, tens of thousands of ethnic groups have struggled to meet their needs after losing the vast human race.

Now, it will take him at least tens of millions of years to hatch a new race with a parasitic web using psychic energy.

Perhaps for the rest of his life, he will never have to worry about having no prey.

Yulman raised his head, the black crystal spiral horn on the upper edge of his chest facing the black armor.

“I agree.” With a wave of his hand, he branded the word “Jullman” onto the parchment with his claws.

For the sake of the continuation of his race, Yulman signed a humiliating pact.

The originator who destroyed countless worlds over millions of years will serve as food.

Ninglu accepted the "Shadow Contract," but he did not choose the contracting party arbitrarily.

King Heraf is the potion ingredient he will use when he ascends, his specialty in the battle against Angron, the oldest primal being he encountered in his memories, and a treasure trove of historical knowledge hidden within his memories.

Only those who had captured Ryan's arms in their memories were skilled at hiding; otherwise, they would not have been able to evade the Lion King, who had honed his extraordinary perception in the Caliban Forest.

Nimrod's plan to obtain Nekare's head required his extraordinary psionic concealment abilities.

As he raised his hand and began to write on the "Shadow Contract," a thought flashed through his mind, and the contents of the contract subtly changed.

Between 【Yurman】 and 【Weininglu…】, small shadowy characters quietly emerged.

[And with his core, the entire parasitic web species, and the originator it nurtures...]

The shadowy words "The Originator" appeared briefly, then vanished abruptly.

Ninglu gazed at the final lines of text.

[Yurman and his entire parasitic web population at his core serve Nimrod, carrying out all his commands...]

The power of the Originator far surpasses that of Hrud during my previous attempt, as well as Etsak, who signed the contract through the proxy of the Twilight Sword.

Treaty alterations that benefit me can only be limited to certain extents.
Ning Lu pondered for a moment and then wrote down his own name.

He looked at the Source Being, Yulman, and said, "Now is the time to show your worth."

"I am engaged in a subspace voyage contest with Magnus."

The tendrils of the Originator swayed disdainfully, "Humanity's crude navigation technology is nothing to boast about."

With a thought, Ninglu brought the Originator, Yulman, back to the real world.

Yulman felt the black mist surrounding his body vanish into thin air; his psychic senses couldn't detect a trace of it, just as when he was swallowed up.

"Invisibility!"

Ninglu said calmly, and Yulman instinctively obeyed his command, his body beginning to rapidly become ethereal.

A faint light rose up, and he finally realized what was happening.

[That contract is not simple... I must follow its contents.] Jullmann seemed to understand something, as if his thoughts had been erased by an eraser.

Ninglu strode toward the bridge, and Yulman followed, quietly avoiding the black hole and staying on the other side.

The tendrils of the originator sway, and consciousness quietly spreads.

Following the innate connections, Jullmann found the primal space of corruption among countless layers of "cloth".

He couldn't wait to spread his consciousness, infiltrating the space that belonged to Lady Hera.

boom!
The howling screams of his soul struck him like heavy hammer blows.

The One could barely maintain his body hidden in the ether, and he gazed sadly at his home.

Wraiths glided through the void, while the lifeless net boats and pods floated on the water.

[As expected, I am the only one left, and I bear the heavy responsibility of continuing Hlav's legacy.]
The consciousness of the originator is heavy, yet it seems to drift aimlessly without any anchor.

Suddenly, his mustache trembled, and a familiar feeling welled up inside him.

The Originator discovered that he sat on his own shadow throne.

"Ninlu!" His hateful cry echoed in Hlav's mental network, but received no response in the dead silence.

The crown of war trembled, and Yulman's consciousness spread, reaching the area where the Shadow of the Throne was located.

On the Futep, Magnus's eyes turned purple as he gazed at the vast ocean.

The black fleet suddenly rose up, transforming into streaks of colorful light, and swiftly swept past the "Thousand Sons" fleet.

[How is that possible? Only thirty-three minutes have passed.]
Saint Diego Bergkamp, ​​lord of the Fifth Warband of the "Shadow of Order," gleamed. [Praise be to my Lord!]

Magnus's virtuosity was broken by our Lord.

He thought we would do nothing for nine hours; he truly underestimated the power of our Lord.
San Diego raised his head and turned to look at Magnus.

Magnus’s single eye suddenly turned red, and its pupil flashed with light.

Inside Azek Ahriman's cabin, he looked at the narrator, Lemuel Gaumont, across from him.

How much do you know about the vast ocean?

“My lord.” Lemuel took a deep breath. He didn’t know why he was being valued and was being taught by two of the Temple of the Thousand Sons at the same time.

Lord Hathor Matt, the head of the think tank, has temporarily traveled to the Shadow of the Throne to serve Lord Nimrod, who is now being taught by Lord Ahriman.

Lemuel couldn't help but recall the meaningful words Lord Nimrod had spoken when he met him: "You will learn everything you want from the Thousand Sons."

[Lord Ninglu foresaw everything that has happened; whoever says he lacks prophetic abilities is truly laughable.]
He gathered his thoughts and gave an answer.

"It is a higher-level plane, a psionic space, which allows void ships to travel at very high speeds..."

After listening to Lemuel's answer, Ahriman spoke.

"These are all correct, but the vast ocean is far more than that."

"I have been sailing on the vast ocean for over a hundred years, taking in countless possible futures."

“This is not difficult; even ordinary people occasionally receive inspiration from dreams. But only prophets can interpret them.”

"Can I decipher it?" Lemuel pressed.

“No.” Ahriman, the head of the Black Raven School temple, shook his head.

"To interpret the diverse tides of the vast ocean and extract meaning from chaos, one needs decades of training in the 'Black Crow School'."

"You must master two modes of thinking: one is to quickly and accurately switch between different concepts and bring many ideas together."

"Another is to abruptly stop thinking and completely analyze a concept."

He said with a smile, "The transformation I underwent gave me a photographic memory, which enabled me to do these things."

As Ahriman saw Lemuel's longing and regret in his eyes, and was about to continue his story, he suddenly felt the entire ship tremble.

His eyes were deep, his consciousness spreading and penetrating the ship's hull.

“My lord…” Lemuel called out cautiously when he saw that Ahriman had not spoken for a long time.

Ahriman gathered his thoughts, as if he were on a long journey, and remarked with a sigh.

"Lord Ninglu's understanding of the warp far exceeds my expectations."

"Of course." Lemuel seemed to see that towering figure before his eyes.

At the same moment, Carlofis, the temple chief of the "Fire Phoenix School," gazed at the vast ocean, where crimson and black fleets flashed with fire and passed by.

The black fleet roared past, and the crimson warships were not to be outdone.

He gazed at the two streaks of shooting stars, [a draw would be the best outcome.]
……

A corner of the top deck of the Royal Shadow.

Petronila Viva, dressed in a pink gown, pours a cup of coffee for Visher, the chief navigator of the "Shadow of Order".

Wiescher picked up the coffee cup decorated with gold patterns and took a sip.

"Anubian coffee beans have a richer flavor than the liquid that comes out of the Officer's Deck Mocha machine."

"Thank you for your hospitality."

Pedronila glanced at the ornate jewelry on Visher's forehead.

"You have helped me a lot, this is just a small token of my appreciation."

"Could you give a clear assessment of the impending end of the contest between the two Primarchs?"

A glimmer of light appeared on Veschel's pale face. "Their mastery of subspace navigation almost made me want to end my career as a navigator and return to Uranus to manage my family's territory."

"Fortunately, they are too busy to control warp space travel all the time," she said with a self-deprecating laugh.

"They embarked on a stunt-like voyage, constantly setting traps for each other."

"The entire voyage was extended by five months because of their confrontation."

"So, who won in the end?" Petroni asked, her eyes shining.

"Neither of them was able to achieve victory, and both fleets reached the anchor point simultaneously, about to jump into the real world."

The memory pen reads Pedronila's shallow thoughts and taps incessantly on the data board.

Lord Nimrod and Lord Magnus both possess profound knowledge of the secrets of the warp, and even the navigator, Lady Wieschel, is full of admiration for them…

On the Fotep, Magnus, seated on the command throne, had a single eye that gleamed with silver light.

[Ninglu's mastery of subspace travel is surprisingly on par with mine.]
His eyes immediately turned gold again. [No, I also know the secrets of the Internet.]

Ninglu is ultimately no match for me.
As Magnus pondered, at the very last moment of the thirtieth millennium, the fleets of the "Thousand Sons" and the "Shadow of Order" jumped to the Ulanno system.

(End of this chapter)