Seth looked a bit embarrassed.
"Just pretend I never asked." As soon as Zeke took Sanguinius's feather, he secretly made the motion of checking with JEI (Just Enough Items).
This feather had two uses.
Upgrading an Elytra, or like a feather dropped by a chicken, crafting arrows.
Zeke hadn't found an Elytra yet, so that option was ruled out first. That left crafting it into an arrow.
"That miraculous drink—I remember it's called Milk, right? Can you provide us with a bit more?" Seth asked tentatively.
"Of course, I have no problem with that."
Seeing Zeke accept the feather, Seth breathed a sigh of relief. After thanking him again, he hurried off to attend to his duties.
After Seth left, Zeke couldn't wait to pull out the Crafting Table.
He had all the materials in his inventory. Zeke placed the flint, stick, and Feather of Sanguinius in order.
[Holy Arrow] x4
Seth never would have dreamed that the feather he just gifted had already been deftly crafted into something else by Zeke.
A feather sitting in the inventory was just a pretty decoration; only by crafting it into a powerful item could its true use be unleashed.
A soft golden glow lit up the Crafting Table.
The Holy Arrows were surrounded by a layer of radiance. The arrow shafts possessed golden vein-like patterns, and one could feel the terrifying psychic power within them.
Zeke put away the Crafting Table, then combined three sticks and three strings to make a Wooden Bow.
It was a bit embarrassing to say, but after transmigrating into Warhammer for so long—experiencing Cadia, Macragge, and the Imperial Palace—he hadn't really used a bow.
It wasn't that he didn't know how, but that it was too weak.
Void shields, refractor fields, and the like went without saying.
When others were blasting away with bolters and meltaguns, pulling out a wooden bow and going twang would indeed be a bit laughable.
Besides, there was an iron rule in Warhammer: any ranged firefight would eventually turn into a melee brawl.
But now it was different. These Holy Arrows looked extraordinary. The long-buried wooden bow could finally be brought out of retirement.
Considering that the Infinity enchantment didn't work on potion arrows or special arrows, Zeke only applied the Power enchantment.
He nocked a Holy Arrow, drew the string, and got a feel for it.
As he drew the bow, Zeke caught a glimpse of a faint phantom appearing behind him.
Slender, noble, with blurred features—it looked like the phantom of the Great Angel Sanguinius.
It even has special effects. Cool.
Through the crack in the door, Zeke pretended to aim at a Flesh Tearer outside.
In Zeke's vision, two shadows appeared for the same person.
One was more solid, walking steadily in a straight line along the corridor, obviously the real body.
About two seconds later, the solid figure changed its gait, walked two steps forward, and perfectly overlapped with the phantom shadow.
Zeke understood what this meant.
It was foresight. This Holy Arrow could predict the movements the enemy was about to make.
By controlling the timing, he could achieve one hundred percent accuracy.
This coincided with Sanguinius's ability of foresight, though the Primarch's foresight tended more toward a long-term scale.
Primarchs all had some special superpowers more or less. For example, Guilliman had multi-threaded processing, able to think about hundreds of things simultaneously—he was born to sit at a desk.
Zeke tried a few more times and discovered that the revealed foresight was the scene at the exact moment the arrow would hit.
If the distance was greater, the foresight would also account for the arrow's flight time.
Zeke wasn't sure if the Holy Arrow had other functions; he would only know when he used it.
Not bad, not bad. Having obtained a new weapon, Zeke walked out of the room.
The fortress was gradually becoming lively. Having received Seth's order, Flesh Tearers and Knights of Blood were rushing back to the fortress from everywhere.
There were also more Ultramarines; Sicarius had transferred more troops to assist Baal.
The returning Flesh Tearers had gloomy expressions. The word "retreat" had evidently agitated them.
"Chapter Master Seth, you'd better give us a satisfactory explanation."
"What are we waiting for?" someone roared.
"Perhaps we should remove Seth from the position of Chapter Master. A coward is not fit to lead us." Whispers circulated.
Under the gaze of the crowd, Seth stepped forward. He pressed his hand downward, signaling for everyone to be quiet first.
The Flesh Tearers and Knights of Blood saw many Chapter Serfs—mortals specifically chosen to serve the Blood Angels—walking forward carrying wine glasses filled with a milky white liquid.
"What is this? Are we holding a Blood Feast?"
Blood Angels had a custom of holding banquets before great battles. They would raise goblets filled with fine wine in the castle and congratulate each other.
The goblets usually contained spiced wine mixed with a few drops of fresh blood to satisfy the Red Thirst.
This was generally a pre-battle measure. Who ever heard of stopping halfway through a war to suddenly hold a Blood Feast?
"Blood Angels have never feared sacrifice. However, useless sacrifice is not worth it."
Seth spoke, his voice drowning out the noise of the scene.
"I, Chapter Master of the Flesh Tearers, Seth, have finally found someone who can save us."
Seth picked up a goblet filled with Milk, toasted toward Zeke, and finally raised the goblet to the crowd.
"Drink the milk."
The entire hall fell silent.
Some curiously raised their glasses and swirled them. The milk clung to the walls of the goblet, flowing down slowly.
Someone raised their glass and drank.
When the Blood Angels drank the Milk, the expression on everyone's face was nearly identical: a stunned joy.
Then, cheers erupted. They embraced each other, weeping with joy.
Some members of the Death Company touched their power armor, painted black, and felt a heavy burden lifted. After thousands of years, they could finally take off these shackles that represented the Black Rage.
Zeke rubbed his nose as he watched the Blood Angels chugging the Milk.
He had truly done a great deed. If Sanguinius had a spirit in heaven, he would definitely be grateful to him, right?
After the Milk Feast, Seth quickly fulfilled his promise.
A shuttle carried Zeke, Seth, and Sicarius, flying together toward Baal.
"Buckle up. This ship of mine is famous for being fast."
The pilot flying the ship was a young lad of about eighteen. He spoke carelessly over his shoulder.
Zeke subconsciously tightened his seatbelt. It crashes fast too, right?
"As you know, the Tyranid fleet has been raging recently, so navigation is full of dangers right now."
"You guys are lucky to have bumped into me. Put your hearts at rest; I will deliver you safely to your destination."
The lad vowed solemnly as he piloted the ship toward Baal.
--
Goal = 1000 Powerstones.