I'm a magnetic field madman

At the heart of the association, clusters of dark, densely packed cells and arched laboratories filled the space.

Rows of alchemical vials, supported by a network of tendons, their containers shimmering with a translucent light in the darkness, or swaying with the movement of their contents. Evil devices circulate on barbed chains, awaiting the Creator's command to awaken.

At the edge of the association are the shimmering breeding walls, where a new generation of Dark Eldar are conceived and hatched in rows of amniotic fluid tubes.

This is the source of the Dark Eldar's massive population, much like the Kriegs of the human empire, but with far more advanced technology. Countless Dark Eldar genes rapidly circulate on this breeding wall...

During its operation, it completes the formation and growth that should have taken hundreds of years, and finally emerges from the amniotic fluid as a complete Dark Eldar, immediately thrown into the flesh mill of Comoros.

These Dark Eldar are the "half-born" despised in Comorian society, but to the Bloodlings, they are all the same.

These people, among the most depraved in the corrupt Eldar society, care about no one. They see the realms of humans, undead, Tau, and Orks as a grand banquet hall, exhibition hall, and amusement park... No member of the Association ever believed that the empire of an inferior race would be a threat.

Even when the crude greenskins or the foul-smelling Space Marines broke through the network to attack Comoros, the Bloodlings merely watched with interest and discussed the anatomical details of these creatures.

Ironically, the Bloodwalkers' pursuit of flesh magic aligns with the Ark Eldar's philosophy of "the Way"...

The Bloodcraftians' dark pursuit of obsession with flesh magic frees them from the self-inflicted torment of lacking time and self-control; this is sometimes referred to as discipline...

This allows association members to focus their fickle attention on a single experimental subject.

And here, countless things from the underworld are gathered, and sculptures made of flesh and blood are everywhere...

The core of that underworld, where those blindfolded, limb-snapped, flesh-and-flesh maggots roamed, was surprisingly clean.

It was a blood-red operating room, engraved with strange runes that kept the temperature subtly regulated at all times... but most of the time, the heat here was unbearable.

If the Eldar from the Ark were to come here, they would immediately recognize the meaning behind these runes—the Vaal Forge. These vile Bloodbringers created this unreal realm by blaspheming the runes of Vaal, the Eldar's god of forging, and employed psionic techniques to circumvent the laws of the Comoros.

This operating room is rarely used, since the Bloodline people despise the use of psychic energy. But once he entered, it was fully activated.

"Amazing, absolutely amazing..."

"Look at the complex genetic information contained in this blood? Did it really come from the body of an ape? Unbelievable, I can't understand it..."

“Interesting. This gene doesn’t match the genetic map of any race in the galaxy at all… well, it doesn’t match the genes of those Sloth worms either.”

Inside the operating room of the Val Forge, a group of renowned Bloodcraftians sat huddled around a rare biological specimen before them, discussing it with fervor…

And every Bloodling here, without a doubt, is a monster that could terrify even the most ferocious nightmares.

Their complex names are immeasurable in the tens of thousands of years of history... but there is no doubt that each of the old monsters here is a leader of their respective school of thought.

Seeking the most perfect way to kill all life forms, both within and outside the material universe...

Nemesines was the mastermind behind everything from the Pain Engine to countless war machines.

The Black Cornucopians are ruthless and greedy plunderers who have collected the entire biological map of the galaxy and are creating new, different abominations every day.

A deity who wholeheartedly embraces depravity and sin, recklessly applies biological genetic modification to his fellow beings to continuously create new life forms and aspires to create a god of life (Master of Apotheosis).

There are many others; the Bloodlust lords gathered here are masters of the most authoritative and ancient sects, even the one who taught the Bloodlust secrets of Bayer…

The Thirteen Bloodscars Order, which allows him to transfer his soul to other flesh and blood to preserve his life even when he cannot cure his own withering disease, is not even worthy of a top-tier research ranking here. They can only pick up the scraps of the masters' research after they have completed their studies.

Of course, the atmosphere of seniority and academic cliques is hard to avoid even among the blood-dwelling people.

But for these madmen who are obsessed with flesh magic... your relationship with them as their teacher is not a reason for you to hinder their research.

Even though they were gathered here to conduct research, the Bloodlust lords still couldn't stand each other...

Each of them, armed with all sorts of modified prosthetics and torture tools, clenched their fists, ready to give that idiot who dared to contradict them a good beating!

But they never dared to make a move.

There's only one reason why so many lords and masters would obediently gather here to study instead of engaging in direct combat—

As the door to the depths of the operating room opened, all the arguing subsided, and the one who entered received a greeting from all the Bloodwalkers, filled with both respect and fear.

The Grandmaster has arrived

35. Academic Exchange of Blood Musicians

Lacas was hunched over, moving as slowly as an old man crawling, and even his body seemed to have shrunk compared to not long ago.

Compared to the Eldar, Lacas now looks more like an old human man weakened by the limits of cell division...

However, his frail appearance could not conceal his status as a revered grandmaster among these Blood Actors.

After all, every single one of the Bloodwalker leaders gathered here was a student of Lacas.

Those who graduate from Lacas's tutelage are the most skilled and outstanding in flesh and blood magic; those who fail and cannot meet Lacas's GPA requirements...

Now they have long since become those wriggling, crawling worms in laboratories, eternally enslaved in painful sorrow.

In other places, failing an exam might at most result in expulsion, but here, failing an exam could lead to a fate worse than death.

“I am glad to hear you talking about academia and research as I walk by, rather than the boring political struggles in Comoros.”

Lacas leisurely walked to his seat, looked at the Bloodbringer lords who were trembling with fear before him, and slowly said...

"Throughout the long and ancient history of the universe, what has survived is never the cunning politicians or the brilliant conspiracies..."

What has endured through countless years and remains remembered is the spirit and thought of exploring truth and the unknown...

Outsiders have no right to manage insiders. Anyone who lets politics override technology is simply incompetent.

"Ugh—I understand you're going to get entangled with those Comorian brats over more new crops to get into your flesh and blood plantations... but bringing that pointless politics into my business won't be forgiven."

Lacas's words were light and airy, seemingly without any intimidation. But the instant his words fell, a low-ranking Bloodbringer lord stepped forward, trembling all over.

“Ah, Biltram, my good student.”

Lacas looked at the Bloodcraft Master before him, seemingly quite pleased... and recounted his story like an old man reminiscing about his glorious past.

"I still remember the work you created when you graduated from my school, a foul-smelling toxin made from the ground-up flesh and blood and pain of your four fellow disciples, mixed with their souls. It tasted really good, and back then, your spirit of exploration shone so brightly."

"Master, I meant no disrespect..."

The Black Descendant Bloodcraft Master, Bill Tram, trembled as he spoke... Judging from his appearance alone, it would be hard to imagine that he was a terrifying and capricious monster.

Once, when an emissary from a conspiracy wrinkled his nose in his stinking poison nest, Biltram sucked him into a transforming gas, causing him to lose his eyes and ears, leaving only a nose a hundred times more sensitive than before, and then forever enjoying the stench of the deadly poison in his stinking poison nest.

Through his own abilities, he earned the last place in the Bloodlust's Zodiac... but to Lacas, no matter how high the honor or status, it was no different from dust.

Lacas cast a gentle glance at him, while he knelt on the ground like a maggot, trembling and afraid to move.

“I have said it countless times: politics and those exchanges of interests will only corrupt your academic attitude, shake your determination to pursue eternal art, stagnate your talent, and ultimately reduce you to those pathetic things.”

Lacas sighed, seemingly lamenting that such a once talented apprentice had now become just another face in the crowd.

"I can tolerate your improper academic attitude, allow you to form those foolish academic cliques, exclude dissidents, and even suppress those ideas that contradict yours..."

But you've tried to bring politics into my operating room, even letting foolish administration override my technical research—BillTrump, what do you think I should do to you?

"Please, forgive me, I offer my mercy—"

Before he could finish speaking, his flesh began to churn and writhe wildly—some of the gases he had inhaled had begun to permanently alter the structure of his flesh.

He could no longer groan, because all the organs in his body that could produce sound had been fused together!

His expensive surgical prosthetics and modified parts instantly fell off and then merged into his filthy flesh!

In an instant, a master of flesh magic, a Blood Puppet, was transformed into the lowest and most pathetic human worm, crawling on the ground with his remaining flesh and blood puppets... pleading for death with the last whimpers emanating from the vibrations of his skin.

But that's impossible; he can't die. In the hands of the Bloodthirsty Man, death is always synonymous with liberation and mercy!

He will live on forever in Lakat, enduring countless pains and the suffocating agony of every moment.

"What do you mean by 'compassionate'? That's not a word the Dark Eldar would use, my student, tsk tsk tsk."

Lacas's lips parted into a wide grin, as if he were laughing very happily...

He didn't need to know who instructed Bill Tram to eavesdrop on him... but it didn't matter, and Lacas didn't care who he was at odds with.

This ancient Eldar, who may have lived longer than emperors, had long since detached themselves from tedious political struggles, becoming aloof and disdainful of all pointless political games.

However, he doesn't need any complicated methods to target anyone.

Whatever is taken from his terrifying blood nest, even just one-tenth of it, can kill half of the Comoros people—while the other half will suffer a fate worse than death.

Despite their companions being treated this way, the Bloodbringer lords remained indifferent. Whatever their thoughts, they were once again acutely aware of the importance of never provoking a Grandmaster.

"Alright, let's get back to the main topic." Lacas crossed his four arms and laughed cheerfully...

"You have five seconds, and then all of you together ask the most constructive question."

They had countless questions, but now they could only ask one—the Bloodcraft Lords exchanged glances, countless thoughts and unspoken conversations unfolding in an instant… and finally, one Bloodcraft Lord stepped forward and respectfully addressed Lacas…

"Soul, Master, we want to know about the soul of this experimental subject."

"Ha, a profound question, barely touching the edge of the truth."

Lakat smiled and tapped the table with his sharp fingers, saying...

"This is the forge of Val, and your eyes have all been altered by the transformation of the soul's torrent... Even a single drop of blood can allow you to glimpse the soul and the highest heavens. So, speak of your insights."

For the Bloodwalkers, the soul is not a mystical or secret doctrine—

While most ignorant people categorize the soul as belonging to the realm of psychic energy and the subspace, this is a seriously erroneous view.

The soul originates from the body, not from the subspace.

Every soul begins to "grow" along with its body when it is injected into an embryo by a fertilized egg or when life is created through other means.

The soul does not originate from the subspace; the so-called "reincarnation" myth, which is full of erroneous assumptions, is a completely wrong interpretation.

Or rather, they simply regarded the infinite circuits of the Ancient Spirit Empire as the true origin of life and soul.

In reality, the Infinite Circuit was merely an application of the Eldar Empire's extraordinary psionic technology to the Ancient Saints.

However, the Eldar Empire was not only populated by psionicists. In fact, towards the end of the empire, most scholars focused on flesh magic rather than psionicism, which had already been thoroughly explored.

Nowadays, most Bloodwalkers were actually sages and physicians in the past empire... and as a pioneer among them, Lacas invented the "Soul Turbulence" modification surgery.

This is a special surgery that modifies Ida's acute sixth sense, which was specially adjusted by the ancient saints, through the spiritual link between the eyes and the brain, and observes the existence of the soul in a physical way.

This is undoubtedly a groundbreaking technology, even if you might argue that it's not an instinctive behavior for psionicists—

However, when you observe non-physical phenomena using physical methods, it inherently means moving from one field to another.

In the realm of the Bloodwalkers, the soul is regarded as an organ of vital importance to the human body, just like the heart and brain. Although this organ cannot be touched by purely physical means, it truly exists.

From the moment of birth, as vital organs such as the brain and heart develop, the first thought is the beginning of the soul's birth.

The soul exists within the body; it does not originate from the warp but is linked to the warp from the moment of its birth.

Just as the birth of the physical body interacts with the physical universe, the birth of the soul also interacts with the subspace.

The relationship between the soul and the subspace is never top-down, but bottom-up.

Every life has a soul, including those cheap clones.

Even if they are the cheapest tools simply cultivated from artificial wombs...

Their souls already existed when their minds interacted with the subspace.

However, just like the incomplete organs of a cloned human, the soul of a cloned life is essentially a kind of "incomplete product"...

So whether it's Krieg of the human empire or the half-son of the dark Eldar...

Their souls are something that is neither worth eating nor worth discarding for the predators of the warp.

A very obvious example is that the Slaanesh's favorite sacrifice is the soul of the Eldar.

But why has no daring businessman ever dared to sign a business contract with the Dark Eldar...?

They sold various human beings and other resources in exchange for a large number of half-born children who were worthless in the Comoros, and then offered them to Slaanesh.

Don't spout that nonsense about irreconcilable enmity. It's not like Slaanesh believers haven't been to Comoros before.

The Dark Eldar are their greatest enemy, but if such a cheap cooperation is offered, they certainly won't refuse.

Because the incomplete soul of a cloned life will not please Slaanesh and may even be abhorred by Him...

Unless it's a fully grown clone whose soul has matured with experience, she might barely be willing to eat it.

After unlocking the secrets of the soul, the Blood Spirits' technology reached a level that seemed like "magic" to mortals.

Their most distinctive feature is their technology—which, without involving any psychic powers, can easily resurrect a dead person in the Comoros, thousands of miles away.

It sounds very unscientific, but you can understand it if you think of the soul as an organ that can move around automatically.

Generally speaking, after a living being dies, its soul is captured and taken away by the warp because it has lost its vessel in the material world. This is essentially the same process as a demon descending into the physical universe, but in reverse.

The Bloodwalkers' resurrection technology utilizes this principle: at the moment a living being's soul ascends to heaven, their physical body is reconstructed using the blood and flesh samples they left behind in the Comoros...