Warhammer 40: Doom

Chapter 148 Trial of Fate
Prima hovered in mid-air, exhaling smoke as a cloud bed, and squinted his eyes to enjoy it.

Looking at its peaceful and unassuming appearance, Dum couldn't understand it at all. Was the taste of tobacco really that wonderful?
He had tasted the ancient tobacco, and found it strange, but nothing special.

The visit was not very fruitful.

The ancient sages gained nothing here; there was no knowledge that could help the emperor, and there were very few ways to enter the net path.

As for the three sacred artifacts—Heart of Plague, Ouroboros, and Thuchucha.

Our current understanding of them is limited to their names; we know nothing else about them.

"What are the Three Sacred Treasures?" Doom pondered for a moment before asking the elder about the specific existence of the Three Sacred Treasures.

Even though I know nothing about it, I'll learn something now to avoid missing out in the future.

"The Heart of Plague is a device that corrodes dimensions and is responsible for opening dimensional rifts. I don't know its exact form, but I've heard that Nurgle is very interested in it."

"Similarly, the Ouroboros has no physical form; it is an infinite energy device."

"Tuchucha is an engine; it has self-awareness, and its greatest function is positioning."

After listening to the ancient sage finish speaking slowly, Doom felt that he had gained nothing.

Of the three ancient artifacts, two lack a specific form and are completely of no reference value.

It is highly unrealistic to try to find them in the vast Milky Way based on just three names.

Doom was neither frustrated nor disappointed; he did not have high hopes.

Ultimately, humanity must rely on itself to resist the Four Gods; external support is merely icing on the cake.

“Elder, I must take my leave.” Doom rose, bid farewell to Prima, and prepared to leave the Crystal Cave.

"I don't know when I'll be able to visit you again, as I'll be going on an expedition."

"Humanity's great expedition is underway, and the entire galaxy awaits our conquest. Our opportunities to visit you are becoming increasingly rare."

“That is the way it should be.” Prima nodded slowly. “With the decline of the Ida and the rise of humanity from its depravity, it is also fitting for them to take control of the galaxy.”

"And you call this a visit?" Prima scrutinized Doom carefully, then rolled her eyes.

"When you visit someone, you should at least bring something. If you come empty-handed, are you sure it's a 'visit'?"

The ancient saint's gaze made Doom somewhat embarrassed. He raised his hand to scratch his face, genuinely feeling ashamed.

"Next time definitely!"

Then Doom turned and left, not daring to face the elder's disdainful gaze, his steps hurried as if he were fleeing.

As Prima watched him leave, the gradually closing crystal obscured his back. She exhaled a puff of smoke, sat back on the bed, and lowered her head in deep thought.

It struck the wall with its pipe, and the crystal wall cracked again, spewing out an ancient mark.

The mark is round and smooth, suspended in the air, emitting a faint light in the center, with two intertwined crescent-shaped keys on either side.

"Forgive me, child." Prima murmured to herself, her voice tinged with apology as she gazed at the mark on her hand.

Primar certainly had a way to enter the Netpath; the last of the Old Saints enjoyed the heritage of this race.

As successors, the Aidaling race has the right to use the Web Path, but didn't the Ancient Saints have the same right?
The answer is yes, the mark in Prima's hand can open all the gates of the web.

They even ventured deep into the netherworld, into secret areas that the Eldar had never set foot in during their heyday.

The mark contains a map showing all the network nodes scattered throughout the galaxy.

Prima sighed; it had indeed kept something from Doom regarding the matter of the net.

Out of a selfish motive, the Ancient Ones did not want Ida to get mixed up with humans, as the two races had different fates.

Or perhaps it is the ancient law of the ancient sages, the life-forging Prima, which can enlighten the wisdom of the race and provide some assistance.

However, the ancient sage learned a bitter lesson from his complete assistance.

With the full support of the Old Ones, the Eldar received divine grace, which ultimately awakened Slaanesh, who personally strangled the last Old One to roam the universe.

The boomerang of fate always ends up hitting you on the head.

Doom's fate was not fixed; everything he did stemmed from his own inner choices.

He is a human being, so his stance is naturally that of a human being.

The Primars are ancient saints, a high-ranking race with broad minds, and mentors to both humans and Eldar.

Both are like children in the family to it; after the ancient sages perish, it doesn't matter who inherits the family's legacy.

The granting of the Web Key to humanity will inevitably squeeze the Eldar's living space; the "parents" cannot show favoritism to either side.

Prima's intervention to treat Doom and help Nur overcome his genetic degeneration has crossed a line.

Driven by a thirst for revenge, Doom was pulled back from the brink of death, and the assistance provided to powerful individuals has already altered the fate of humanity.

It can no longer help humanity as a whole; the fate of their race should be determined by two powerful beings. The trials that fate brings to the race should not be skipped.

Will they be reborn from the ashes, shedding their fragility and rising to become a superior race, or will they utterly fall, eternally sinking into oblivion, becoming playthings of the four Chaos Gods?
They had to fight and struggle to snatch the right to survive from the hands of fate.

Ada failed the test and teetered on the brink of destruction, leaving her race as a mere shell of its former self.

Humanity was destined for destruction, but it rose again because of a powerful being, and once again faced the test of fate.

Beyond the universe, for reasons unknown, a powerful being drifted in and stood alongside humanity.

But fate is not powerless; the more powerful a race is, the more painful and fierce the trials become.

Humanity's expeditions are in full swing, with worlds being conquered and new colonies being established every moment.

The ruins of humanity's broken civilization have been revitalized, just as humanity first ventured into deep space.

That vibrant scene, where all things flourish, is still vivid in my mind.

The real universe appears calm and peaceful, and the waves of the subspace have subsided.

The four Chaos Gods lurking in the shadows never rest, constantly plotting even greater schemes.

Prima was used to all of this; the deep lake in its heart had long since calmed down.

In the real universe, tides rise and fall, and countless races rise and fall; the ancient sages have witnessed countless regrets.

Prima put the net key back, put aside her guilt, and went to bed.

As Doom walked down the crystal corridor, he knew in his heart that the elder must have some treasures that could open the entrance to the net passage.

He can ask for help and state his request, but he cannot force the ancient saints to do so.

Ancient sages offered help voluntarily, and it was their duty not to help humanity.

Their species is extinct, they have long since left the galactic stage, and are now merely spectators of history.

As the Warrior's Law teaches—gamble with courage on the future, and everything is created by yourself.

This statement also applies to the human race; the obstacles that stand in the way of progress must be overcome by humanity's own strength.

To avoid being badly injured and knocked down by reality, keep moving forward even if you have to crawl.

In the cruel universe, only by being indomitable can humanity muster the courage to face the four gods and dangers.

Doom stepped out of the Crystal Mountains and looked at the pure sky in the distance, where colorful clouds shimmered. He stood there, lost in thought, admiring the view for a long time.

"Sophia, take me away."

As the light of the transmission shone, he returned to the throne room of the Ring of Nur, which was deserted.

Li Tang and Harlan are on their way back, and it won't happen anytime soon.

Doom leaned back on the throne, closed his eyes to rest and recuperate for five minutes, and for a moment he was not used to the leisure.

In the world of Throne of Terra, he's never idle for a moment.

The Nur Stars were not incorporated into the Imperium of Man, and Doom, as the Primarch, was born with power.

Although he held no governing position, he was constantly visited by Terran nobles outside his residence, which he struggled to manage.

The higher-ups of the Space Marine Corps would also frequently visit to seek advice on tactical arrangements.

Mortals may refuse, but the Space Marine Legions must help; they are the main force of the Great Crusade.

Help them eliminate unreasonable practices, reduce troop casualties, and be responsible for the brothers who have not returned.

After returning to Nur, the central law firm Sofia resolved most of the complex political issues.

Having everything arranged so neatly has made me quite relaxed, even a little bored.

Out of boredom, Doom clicked on the holographic image to see how the genetic offspring he brought back from Terra were doing.

Their training was planned in advance; they entered the War Academy to study Nur's war code.

They also need to learn martial arts. After the gene seed is implanted, their moves are sharp and powerful. Systematic learning can help the Doom Warriors advance further.

Doom couldn't help but smirk. Osiris and his brothers had been stripped naked of their power armor.

Erica von Stern personally taught him.

Her beautiful face was as cold as ice, one hand on her hip and the other holding a leather whip, which she mercilessly lashed at the floor.

They stood on one foot on the tip of a knife, weapons between their toes, their bodies stiff and rigid.

"Snap!" The whip cracked in the air, and Erica's sexy voice rose as she continued to admonish, "Stretch your body, use technique, not brute force!"

"Your strength is undeniable, but by relying too much on the skills carried in your genes, you must resist your instincts."

(It's burned out! I'm exhausted, there's nothing I can do.)
(End of this chapter)