Chapter 448: Ynnead: "I Have a Bad Feeling About This"
Caliban, The Rock
"So, we have to make a trip to Biel-Tan."
After communicating with the Biel-Tan Eldar and confirming they truly didn't want their Craftworld anymore, Ramesses gathered his comrades and explained the terms the Eldar had agreed to in detail.
"They changed their tune that fast?"
Romulus flipped through the documents.
Before this, it was just an observation period. Although the Phoenix Lord was acting abstractly, he was still the heavy hitter of a Craftworld and had his own standards. He and the Farseers had suppressed the fanatical followers of Biel-Tan, and the Harlequins had remained on the sidelines, at most showing some goodwill. Why were they now rushing to sign a slavery contract?
"Heh, others want to sell themselves but can't find a buyer."
Ramesses waved his hand. having studied Warp lore for nearly a hundred years, he was sharp enough to guess something. "Maybe our ability to interfere with time made them decide. After all, they don't have to worry about opponents playing the 'I killed my way back from the future' card anymore. Death is truly death, which means we can indeed cut flesh from the Four Gods."
"So this Eldar God of the Dead is no longer needed?"
Romulus pushed the revised documents aside. Drakus moved the files away and began connecting to Tigurius. The Ultramarines' secretarial team immediately brought up another stack of organized files.
Recently, the Greater Ultramar region remained resilient under the siege of Hive Fleet Behemoth. The Tyranid fortress worlds on the galactic fringe maintained stable defense lines, forcing the Hive Fleet to fragment. However, the massive number of missing persons cases still gave Calgar, the ruler, a headache.
There were obvious traces of Chaos on various contested planets, but no clues had been found yet.
As his pen touched the paper again, Romulus still felt a bit awkward.
"If they can abandon one god, surely they will abandon the next?"
"What, no confidence in us? And what kind of slave-owner mindset is this? Isn't it normal to jump ship if the company benefits suck?"
Ramesses corrected him: "We call this destroying the slave owners, then liberating the serfs from their hands. In this process, we just need to maintain our advanced nature. What are you worried about?"
"Hm."
Romulus nodded. That explanation felt right.
The Lion kept a straight face, watching these brothers seriously discussing absorbing the Eldar as abhumans.
Wait, when the Eldar were fighting the War in Heaven, humans were just scattered rodents, right? The meteorite that wiped out the dinosaurs in the Cretaceous period might have been knocked out by some fleet engaged in battle.
Are you sure these two species can really be categorized together?
"Alright then. The Dawnstar Sector happens to have planets inhabited by Exodite Eldar. Let them choose for themselves. I'll prepare the relevant Abhuman files."
Romulus casually signed a document that would make the Dawnstar Sector's immigration officials' scalps tingle.
Although abstract from a genetic perspective, it was no big deal politically. The Eldar currently had high united front value, and the Dawnbreakers had the ability to suppress them.
As for how to absorb the Eldar, it wasn't a big problem.
Although judging race by phrenology was a bit abstract, once they fished Isha out, they could just ask her to modify the genes.
Given this goddess's doting on the Eldar, seeing someone tall willing to protect these children, she would probably be overjoyed.
"That's good too. Contracts signed must be fulfilled. Planets with World Spirits are convenient for me to protect them, and those Eldar who don't want to fight can stay there as relay stations."
Ramesses approved of this, flipping through his handbook.
Special existences like World Spirits had extremely strong resistance to Chaos. As early as when they went to Fenris, Ramesses had begun developing the functions of World Spirits.
Currently known functions included replacing them in storing and protecting souls far from the Dawnbreakers' influence, serving as safe signal relays to facilitate Astropathic communication, and isolating Warp whispers so psykers could use their powers more safely.
The most developed one currently was Fenris.
Efficient communication capabilities and safe means of casting Warp spells were why the Space Wolves could organize a massive military force in the Obscurus Segmentum, taking the Iron Hands everywhere to put out fires and earn favors.
These favors would be converted in the future 'Wolftime', becoming the fists with which the Wolf Cubs intended to beat Russ to his knees.
Even if Fenris seems a little reluctant...
So what if it's a World Spirit?
World Spirits have to work for me too!
Noting down the coordinates given by Romulus, preparing to call the local World Spirit, Ramesses closed the handbook.
A Warp capitalist's eyes could not tolerate any undeveloped blue ocean.
"Are we going now?"
Seeing the two partners finish talking, Arthur, who was still planning the Lamenters' route, asked.
"Yeah, going now."
Ramesses patted the Lion, who had worn a 'what is wrong with this world' expression since the meeting began.
"Boss, counting on you."
After speaking, he also brought up the star map. The Craftworld Eldar, known for their vigilance, now openly shared their Craftworld coordinates on it.
"These are the coordinates. Biel-Tan is a Craftworld with quite a lot of forests."
Arthur silently sent a suggestion to Romulus about promoting afforestation across the galaxy.
"..."
The Lion had never been so speechless in his life.
"Fine. But Caliban should still be undergoing the ritual process, right? I need other mediums."
After thinking about it, the Lion decided to ignore those political issues that only felt abstract, and spoke.
A Watcher in the Dark poked its head out, pointing a finger at the trees on the surface of The Rock.
Oh, right. The Rock is also a fragment of Caliban.
"Good."
The Lion agreed immediately, then looked at Arthur.
"I'm going with you."
Arthur replied.
The more people chopping Ynnead, the better. They didn't have a duel fetish; previously, they were limited by manpower, so it was either a duel or being ganged up on.
"Don't worry, you're whitelisted now."
Ramesses added, signaling the Lion not to worry about his abilities being affected by Arthur.
This reminded the Lion of the Emperor's distrust in his dreams, filling his heart with mixed feelings.
He extended his right arm, testing the reaction of his consciousness and the interface with the Warp, just like chasing beasts in his dreams.
This feeling was mysterious. He tried hard not to recall the Emperor's attitude towards him, beginning to carefully peel away that specialness far beyond ordinary people.
He took a few steps on the stone floor.
The surrounding scene turned into a deep jungle.
This was an endless jungle. Bones, armor, and fur were buried deep within the many roots bulging from giant trees.
Despite this, he could still feel the drumbeats of continuous bombardment echoing on the floor, shaking the stone walls. Whenever a loud noise came, the thick fog surged, and leaves shook off from the huge canopy.
The Lion took a deep breath of the familiar air.
Because of the Emperor's riddles, his understanding of this forest was actually extremely limited.
According to his memory of the last conversation with the Emperor, this was his Warp space, where most of the power belonging to the Lion gathered.
The Four Gods had been peeping at him, and the Emperor's conflicting personalities made it hard to distinguish right from wrong. What the Lion truly felt was only guilt for his actions and the Emperor's killing intent towards him.
No, no need to think about this.
Thinking of Ramesses' evaluation of the Emperor, the Lion quickly shook his head.
Since he's like that, just go along with it.
I still choose to fight for humanity now, and I have brothers who trust me by my side.
The Lion emphasized in his heart, looking up at this familiar yet strange domain.
Ramesses didn't rush to integrate Caliban into this domain, aiming to prevent corruption by the Four Gods.
Clearly, the defense was successful for now.
Rustle~
Another tremor transmitted.
The Lion was certain this was the sound of a sharp blade chopping wood.
Frowning, the Lion stepped forward.
He saw a lost soul.
The man's clothes were tattered. There was a huge hole blasted by a bolter in his chest, tearing him in two, but he seemed frozen in the moment of death, still maintaining the posture of a normal person, looking ghastly in the fog-shrouded forest.
At this moment, this zombie-like human seemed completely unaware of his injury, swinging a giant axe pulled from the roots, seemingly chopping wood.
The Lion's gaze fell on that hole, simultaneously comparing it with the standard bolter equipped by the Paladins.
The lost soul saw the Lion at the same moment.
"AHHH!!!"
The man dropped the tool used for chopping wood for warmth and ran away screaming.
"..."
"So this is what your domain looks like."
Suppressing the thought of pursuit, just as the Lion wanted to turn back to see if his companions had kept up, Ramesses' voice rang out.
The Lion was dazed for a moment, then saw those figures flashing through the forest.
There were more of them now, observing him through the fog with fearful or wary gazes.
The Lion knew clearly he had never seen any similar entities in his dreams.
Wasn't it agreed that after Arthur cleared the Caliban corruption, no other Warp entities would pollute Caliban?
Feeling his home was dirty, the Lion looked at Ramesses, wanting to question him, but after hesitating, he first put on a questioning look.
"I put them there. They are all Calibanites. Living on Caliban is just right. It also serves a protective function, and the Emperor's spirit has helpers who can work."
Ramesses indicated that these projections were not his problem; this pot had to be dumped on the head of a certain guy who initiated the orbital bombardment.
At the same time, he was clear about the extent of someone's self-cognition.
"..."
Realizing what everything in front of him was, someone fell silent again.
"Resurrecting the dead costs a lot. The spirit summoning ritual is a huge expense. Our strategic reserves cannot be moved; they will be used to attract Ynnead later. The Stormcast Eternals technology has been given to you too. If you want sacrifices, go hunt daemons in the Warp yourself."
"Okay."
The Lion didn't want to continue this topic. Secretly noting Ramesses' words, he led the tourists behind him toward the target point.
Along the way, they met many more people.
Astartes, civilians.
After the initial panic, they stabilized their emotions. Word of mouth spread, and more and more dead people gathered around, carefully hiding behind the mist.
Just observing the team led by the Lion.
"..."
This was extremely tormenting for the Lion.
He wanted to flare up, but behind him were brothers who had expectations of him. Then he realized he had no reason to flare up.
These people just watching was already good; not throwing banana peels and rotten vegetables at him was letting him off lightly.
The Lion's pace became faster and faster, until he saw the tree hole glowing green ahead, then accelerated further as if seeing a savior.
He stepped through the passage first.
"We're here."
"Good job, Boss."
Ramesses walked out behind the Lion, looking around with a fresh face.
Hm, the Eldar raise plants pretty well.
"13 minutes exactly passed in realspace."
Arthur also walked out from behind him with his sword.
"Well done, Lion."
The Herald of the Corona and Eldrad accompanying the team were also extremely surprised by this degree of Warp transfer, thinking there was another god for everyone to worship. They also dragged Yvraine, who still wanted to wander in the forest, out.
"I know. No need to say more."
The Lion kept a straight face, glancing at the Eldar outsiders, seemingly annoyed by such compliments.
"How would you know if we didn't say it?"
Ramesses retorted, then deliberately muttered: "Considering Perturabo's failure experience, I think it's necessary to maintain a normalized output of positive thoughts to you guys, lest you cranky old men overthink things all day."
"..."
The Lion fell into silence.
"...Suit yourself."
He snorted, stepping out of the Biel-Tan woodland first.
According to the contract, they needed to check the Infinity Circuit first, ensure the survival of these ancestral souls, and then proceed to screw over the God of Death.
The core of comedy is often tragedy.
Cegorach dared to say no god understood this more profoundly than himself.
He was just a clown. Joy couldn't compare to Nurgle, art couldn't compare to Slaanesh, deception and schemes couldn't compare to Tzeentch... Emperor, Deceiver... just clown level—
Cegorach sighed.
Looking at the universe, even in the category of gods, he couldn't rank in the top five.
The Emperor's parenting level was still too authoritative.
However, thinking of the Eldar gods, even Cegorach lost the mood to despise the Emperor.
No matter how abstract the Emperor was, he was tall and willing to hold up the sky. The Primarchs could still go crazy or run away, or even serve as exhibits to create foreign exchange for their hometown. Asuryan was still grumbling in Slaanesh's stomach.
Well, for a race to be reduced to needing him, an art worker, to decide its life and death was inherently a clownish thing.
The Laughing God organized the knowledge in his hands, scanning carefully with his eyes to ensure the gifts he sent out wouldn't be some spiked fakes.
You mean to say, as an art worker, I woke up, a nuke suddenly exploded, our nation collapsed. Among the colleagues who seem to be still alive, one was smashed to pieces with personality split into eight hundred parts, one was imprisoned by a stinking fat man, one got stuck halfway through birth...
Now I am the highest leader of the last three organized forces of the entire Eldar race. Now, under the eyes of long-eyed nuclear weapons, I have to select reliable members from a bunch of sex addicts and psychopaths, and then start rebuilding civilization?
And what do you mean the pile of shit I made out of boredom and the collected works I can't even understand became the repository of all secrets in the universe and the most complete database of our race?
Bro, are you kidding me?
Cegorach held the labyrinth tome recording the Webway routes in one hand, and the True Names of daemons recorded one by one since the beginning of the War in Heaven in the other. Thinking of the rumors about the Black Library spreading like wild myths outside, he cursed.
What 'can kill gods', what 'can reverse the Rubric'...
That was a spell Tzeentch intervened in. If he could really reverse the Rubric spell, would he need to bet his life to fish a Solitaire out of Slaanesh's side?
If he really had so many awesome things, he would have gone all-in to kill Slaanesh long ago. Why would he be blocked by Ynnead in the Webway?
"My Brother, what schemes are you planning now?"
"Heh, nothing, my dear Brother."
Carefully hiding these treasures, extremely precious to humanity, behind his back, Cegorach revealed himself, coming before the Avatar of Ynnead who blocked him at the entrance of the Black Library. He rubbed his hands, smiling fawningly.
"What wind blew You here?"
Logically, now that the Soul Sword had fallen into the hands of the Dawnbreakers, the Avatar of Ynnead shouldn't appear.
Of course, as a god who was born but sleeping, it wasn't unimaginable for Ynnead to make some small moves.
Cegorach maintained the heartless smile on his face, feeling sad for those passed Eldar.
"..."
The Avatar of Ynnead looked at the clown who seemed in a hurry to do something. Eyes filled with thick aura of death stared at his expression where eternal smiles masked all emotions.
"Hehe."
Cegorach laughed again.
"..."
Unfortunately, the authority of the Eldar God of Death was not related to acuity. He truly couldn't see the purpose of this Laughing God being so anxious.
"Maybe going to save another suffering Solitaire."
Thinking of those subjects destined for death, the Avatar of Ynnead casually convinced himself with this reason, then explained his plan to the only compatriot he could still communicate with.
Scales covered by carapace stretched slightly. This body born from the destruction of a Craftworld's Infinity Circuit began to turn illusory. The Avatar of Ynnead knew his time awake was short, so he whispered.
"My Brother, I need your help."
"What plan?"
Cegorach pretended to listen, fingers rubbing against each other, calculating the passage of time.
"I need you to help Me descend into the material universe."
The Avatar of Ynnead spoke, with suppressed anger in his words: "Those damned Outer Gods, their own completeness isn't enough; they covet Our power. I need you to mask My birth. If possible, I also hope you can retrieve the Crone Sword."
"Oh."
I thought I was busted.
Cegorach rubbed his hands, the smile on his face growing stronger.
So it's performance metrics delivering themselves to my door.
☆☆☆
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