I'm a magnetic field madman

But regardless, needless to say, every Eldar here is cheering wildly for this arena champion who brought them such new excitement!

Not for anything else, but simply for the novelty and excitement that transcends racial differences!!

As for nonsense like racial honor, it's fine to talk about it casually or say it to slaves, but when it comes to actually doing it, how many people would really believe it?

After all, such nonsense as honor is already mythical to the Eldar born after the Great Fall.

Besides, so what if you shout the honor of the Eldar?

Those high-ranking officials who are "out of touch with reality" won't care about your life just because you love it. In the end, you'll still die, and they won't even blink.

Just like those apes that keep repeating the slogan "Life is the currency of emperors"...

How many of them truly realize that they are merely pawns in this witchcraft scheme, and genuinely harbor any so-called grand ideals?

Please, I work seven days a week, twenty hours a day... and every day I worry about not having enough to eat tomorrow and being eaten alive by Slaanesh.

What grand ideals are you talking to me about? Just stand up and say that if we work hard, life will get sweeter and sweeter.

These Dark Eldar had a clear understanding of themselves, just like those apes... They were nothing more than insignificant space rats in this dark starry sky.

They had no choice but to either try their best to survive in this cesspool, or they would die.

No, they don't even have the right to die. Even when they die, they have to pray that they can die happily and quickly.

In this cold starry sky, even the eternal silence of thought is a luxurious pleasure.

Working hard is work, but enjoying life is what truly matters...

What's wrong with praising a young man who brings them so much excitement and joy? Is it reasonable to criticize the cook after finishing a meal?

After all, racial xenophobia, discrimination, and hatred are nothing more than the cheapest source of pleasure and a sense of superiority for the vast majority of them who have no control over their fate.

Bai Qianshuang's massacre quickly achieved the expected result.

The army driven by the Beast King was wiped out in an instant... and until now, he has only used the power of electric current.

That's enough. Moreover, if you want to control the force so that it doesn't appear obvious, electric current propulsion is the most suitable mode.

Pushing the Bai family's sword, Bai Qianshuang swiftly slaughtered these so-called powerful beasts... and from beginning to end, he never even blinked.

Because it's just too weak!

Even compared to the wild beasts he faced when hunting with his older brother when he was a child, they were far too weak.

What Claw Demon, what Razorwing, what Hela Spider?

They all have impressive names, but none of them are as powerful as even a single magnetic field dragon earthworm!

After all, while this world is a cesspool, it is certainly "big" enough... and Bai Qianshuang's hometown, though seemingly a little cleaner than this cesspool, is "small" enough to be considered...

No animal that can survive on an earth filled with war gods and madmen, constantly fighting each other, is simple!

Bai Qianshuang was undoubtedly very at ease; he even had the leisure to think about these trivial matters.

However, the beast king opposite him was not so calm.

"Croak!! You bunch of trash, get them! Get them!!"

The Beast King wildly swung the nerve whip in his hand, his face contorted in rage, his muscles stiff, drooling as he roared, completely insane.

He had indeed gone mad, because he had just taken an overdose of combat stimulants.

As the Beast King, he should have been riding his beasts to charge into battle alongside the enemy...

But before he could rush forward, the clawed demons that Bai Qianshuang had sliced ​​into noodles immediately dissuaded him from his plan.

Damn it, how come this monkey is so good at close combat?!

The Beastmaster class is not particularly good at close combat. They are originally from the lower levels of the Witch Spirit Cult, and are just beast tamers responsible for taming wild beasts in the arena.

They are the commanders, the commanders of the beasts, though such a statement is essentially a form of flattery.

But no matter what, in this sci-fi universe that glorifies melee combat, these beast kings will never be the main characters.

The ceaseless swirling wind danced continuously amidst the frenzied cheers of countless spectators. When the swift and agile martial arts steps came to a stop, the arena had become much quieter.

In an instant, those ferocious beasts were reduced to countless pieces of flesh and blood scattered across the white sand, creating a magnificent scene on the pristine ground!

Bai Qian Shuang simply threw away the broken Clive broadsword in her hand and beckoned to the Beast King with disdain.

This action earned even greater cheers and jubilation from the audience!

They praised Bai Qianshuang's courage and fearlessness... They were even more eager to see the beast king's head stuffed into a latrine and tortured to the point of wishing for death!

Although their pride holds that no one in the universe, except for Slaanesh, is better at the art of torture than they are—who knows, this young man might just give them some more unexpected surprises?

Of course, the biggest factor behind such cheers is the praise for this human courage and the excitement it brought!

It's important to understand that the Beast King's forces are not currently empty and devoid of resources.

Although he lost those precious wild beasts, he still had one last "wild beast" under his command.

A Space Marine from the Empire of Man, an old, silent space wolf.

Asarts have never been particularly unique in the Comoros arena; they may be rare, but they are not exactly surprising.

But this Astartes gives off a different feeling—because just the old, powered armor he wears, which dates back to the Great Crusade era, is enough to make people look forward to it.

High up in the stands, Serene, keenly sensing the curiosity of the conspiratorial governor beside her, giggled and introduced...

"Your Excellency Taril, this is the prize I received from Lady Males—a Space Marine named Guo Zhen, a soldier lost in the Webway."

It's quite interesting; although he's wearing Space Wolf powered armor, he's actually a Space Marine with white scars.

Tallir raised an eyebrow. Despite his arrogance, he knew his old rivals, the Space Marines, very well.

The white-scarred Space Marines are known for their mobile warfare skills and are relatively unknown among the many chapters of the Imperium of Man... but their Primarchs are among the very few who are still confirmed to be alive.

Their original form, Chagatai Khan, with the white scars, fled into the Web Path in pursuit of the Dark Eldar. During that pursuit...

Who knows, there might be a white-scarred Space Marine who followed Khan into the fray.

But entering the online world, in a sense, is equivalent to breaking free from the constraints of time.

Although the Webpath is the highway in the wild hell of the Warp, it is still within the Warp's boundaries.

Unlike Comoros, which is the center of the network, the timing of many networks is also highly uncertain.

In addition, the internet is a product that has long been outdated and in disrepair...

It wouldn't be surprising if one day a battle-hardened veteran or even a Primarch emerged from the web.

Compared to these big Space Marines, Taryl was clearly more interested in the human.

In his understanding, apart from psionicists, there shouldn't be any human beings with such a large physique and such immense power.

However, cheating with psionic powers is obviously impossible here.

Comoros does not prohibit everything, but it prohibits the use of psychic energy.

Comoros itself, as the former central hub of the Eldar's Web, possessed a vast amount of psionic technology... but out of fear of Slaanesh, it was ordered to be sealed away.

Unlike their fellow Ark brethren, they abhor the use of psionic energy...

Moreover, the shackles worn by that human were made from the metal of the Helm of Hatred.

It's not that he's incapable of using psychic powers, but rather that even if he did, he would suffer immense pain and be informing everyone present that he had broken the rules.

So what exactly is the secret to humanity's greatness?

What interesting answer lies hidden within him?

Tahrir was filled with curiosity. The exploration of secrets and the opportunity to gain great power spurred him to action like ants crawling all over him.

But Taryl knew he couldn't do that—the ape gladiator wasn't important; what mattered was that he couldn't disrupt the Overlord's plans…

However, while Taril couldn't thwart Victor's plan, he could satisfy his curiosity outside of it.

"Serene, don't you think this kind of battle isn't fair enough?"

Tallir surveyed the battle unfolding before him, grinning at the slave owner woman beside him, revealing a mouthful of sharp teeth…

"I think it lacks a certain artistry, and it lacks a part of...dramatic tension."

What do you mean by that?

Serene frowned, revealing her displeasure—because, no matter what, Taril had gone too far.

This gladiatorial battle was already a losing proposition for Serene... It would be unreasonable to invest even more beasts to weaken her champion.

If Taril wanted Serene to increase her investment, even if he was the governor of the wicked conspiracy, Serene would have no choice but to refuse him!

"It's alright, Serene, you don't need to send anyone." Taliel revealed a sinister and pleased smile.

"We just received a new batch of slaves..."

7. Space Wolf

The sky over Comoros was a somber, deep red. It fell heavily upon the jagged spires of the arena;

Looking down at its looming, partially obscured pyramid top.

The withered black sun glared menacingly at every uninvited guest who visited Comoros.

When Krom first arrived here, another prisoner, a disheveled Imperial Guard soldier, told him that he would never see any other skies in his lifetime…

Only when he encountered an opponent in battle could he yearn to be forever away from this crimson sky.

“That’s quite a long lifespan,” Krom boasted.

Krom never saw that guard again.

For Krom Dragon's Gaze, this damned fate had ended the moment he and his brother weren't caught by these stinking farts and brought here.

Although Crom wasn't a studious person, and the atmosphere within their Space Wolves Legion didn't particularly value knowledge... he still knew about Comoros and knew that this was the final fate of those who stepped into it.

In this stinking den of alien poison, their fate is to fight until death.

Well, fighting isn't something to be sad about. They are Space Marines, and fighting is their destiny.

Dying on the battlefield is not a bad thing for any Space Marine; on the contrary, it is the end of their glorious life.

But absolutely no Space Marine would be willing to fight for a bunch of damned Xenomorphs!

The fate of those who fight is always death, but a wolf should not die as a laughable toy.

At this moment, Krom seems lucky, because these damned Eldar have stopped tormenting his current state.

In the last battle, he tore apart four Tau fire warriors—finally killing a few aliens, Krom thought, though it was more of a bittersweet moment.

But who will be the opponent next?

Alien races from the Alekiel Abyss?

A group of Chaos believers? Or another Space Marine?

He didn't know, but Crom knew that the more pain he acted like, the happier the Dark Eldar would be.

"Pah!" Krom spat, he'd rather die than let these bastards get their way!

Passing through the stinking tunnel, accompanied by flickering, filthy green light, was already a terrifyingly familiar feeling.

Footsteps echoed on the floor, which felt like marble but was black with unsightly veins.

The cell door was opened, and a fellow inmate was pushed in front of Krom—his comrade-in-arms, who had originally been sent to the battlefield.

"What happened? Have you finished playing?"

Krom looked at Jomond Razor in front of him and asked, while the latter was clearly also confused...

"I don't know, just as I was about to go on stage, they suddenly pulled me down."

Jomond seemed unhappy—well, he was unhappy, because he was indeed an optimist.

Although we may die here, we can still eliminate more of the Emperor's enemies.

This is a phrase that Jomond always says.

It's all just self-deception; even without them...

Being stuffed into these dark Eldar arenas is no different from being dead.

Ironically, many Space Marines who previously loathed Xenomorphs but survived a period of time in the Comoros became remarkably tolerant.

At least against aliens other than the Dark Eldar, the Space Marines will no longer adopt the old "shoot and talk" attitude.