In the beginning of creation, the Old Ones, upon arriving in the Middle World, first created the Lizardmen as their assistants. They stabilized the Warp energy and brought forth life.
Then, the Old Ones created the Elven race. The Elves quickly prospered and expanded due to their excellent magical talent, entering a golden age. They established cities across the world.
Until the Chaos invasion, when the Old Ones fled. The great hero Aenarion drew the Sword of Khaine, created the Great Vortex, and repelled the first Chaos invasion.
Following that was the Sundering.
As a descendant of the first Phoenix King, Malekith poisoned the reigning Phoenix King to seize the throne, ultimately leading to a great war.
A gravely wounded Malekith and his followers were exiled to a new continent, where they became the Dark Elves. The Elves who remained were called High Elves.
After losing the war with the Dwarfs,
the High Elves completely withdrew to Ulthuan, and a portion of those who stayed behind became the Wood Elves.
Due to their low birth rate, the overall population of the High Elves was not large. Their long reproductive cycle, coupled with constant warfare, prevented their population from growing.
However, they were skilled in magic and had Dragons as allies. Their formidable power was enough to protect them.
But those things could not stop a powerful deity.
Cegorach and Eldrad, the Masque, the Avatar of Death, and other Aeldari powerhouses boarded a hover-skiff to Ulthuan.
The Laughing God felt regret for what was about to happen, but for the overall benefit of the Aeldari, he had no choice but to do so. The awakening of the God of Death was crucial.
It would be the most potent weapon against Slaanesh.
Both paths, using the Crone Swords and exterminating the surviving Aeldari, had become unsustainable. They had only one last path: to follow Robert Guilliman's guidance. To complete the concept of Aeldari death.
And bring back the fragments of this concept to complete it, bringing about the gestation and birth of the Aeldari God of Death. The skiff's speed was swift, traversing the clouds, unmatched by soaring eagles or even dragons.
Cegorach, wearing a jester's mask, stood at the bow of the skiff, gazing at this backward yet beautiful world. The Old Ones had once visited this world.
Cegorach didn't know what they had done here.
Perhaps it was the same as what they did in other universes: sorting out chaotic Warp energy and attempting to rebuild the civilizations of those worlds.
Cegorach didn't fully understand the Old Ones' purpose.
When he awoke as an Aeldari god, the Old Ones were already immensely powerful. They had constructed various miraculous structures to balance the Warp's energy.
Among them was the Webway. Their interest was to rebuild every world that had been corrupted and polluted, and to retrieve races that had turned to dust from the annals of time.
Alas, they ultimately failed. They were forced to flee their homeworld. Their work in this world had only completed the most basic part before being destroyed by the Chaos Gods who followed closely behind.
Cegorach didn't know the fate of the Old Ones.
Perhaps they fled again, even further, or perhaps they were all devoured by the Chaos Gods.
No one knew their fate.
Cegorach felt that perhaps in the distant future,
with the expansion of the Imperium, he would receive some news about the Old Ones.
Ulthuan's overall topography was circular.
At its center was the Isle of the Dead, where the Great Vortex resided.
Chaotic Warp energy was drawn here, then transformed into the Eight Winds of Magic by the Great Vortex, becoming the source of magic in this world. The High Elves closest to the Great Vortex naturally possessed the strongest magic.
Ulthuan was constantly nourished by magical power, allowing the High Elves to effortlessly cast various powerful spells.
Ulthuan comprised numerous city-states, divided into ten kingdoms. The higher leaders of the ten kingdoms were the Phoenix King and the Everqueen.
Originally, Ulthuan was ruled solely by the Everqueen through hereditary succession, but later, during the Chaos invasion, a mighty man named Aenarion saved the then-Everqueen and married her.
Thus, the system of co-rule by the Phoenix King and the Everqueen emerged. The Phoenix King's duties, besides coordinating political disputes among the kingdoms and defending the interests of the Elven race, most importantly included conceiving the next Everqueen with the sexy, fiery, and noble current Everqueen.
If they couldn't conceive, they would keep trying.
Ulthuan was protected by a colossal magical array. The magical array drew energy from the Isle of the Dead at the center of the ring.
It not only provided magical defense but also regulated weather, ensuring eternal spring and favorable conditions.
In addition to magical defenses, they also built massive fortress gates in the mountains to obstruct invasions from their distant relatives, the Dark Elves.
The numerous city-states of the High Elves were prosperous and aesthetically beautiful. They were difficult to describe in words.
The temples, polished and constructed from crystal, shone with a faint golden glow under the golden light of the setting sun, appearing sacred and solemn.
Among the most beautiful places was Lothern, the spiritual heart of Ulthuan.
Lothern was where the Everqueen's court resided.
Many legendary creatures roamed here.
Giant eagles nested on the sun-drenched hills of Lothern.
Unicorns strolled through the magical forests. The Elves' most powerful allies, the Dragons, slumbered in the towering mountains of Lothern.
Aside from numerous magical animals, Lothern was also a city of breathtaking splendor.
It shimmered with a beautiful golden light under the sun.
Walls, temples, and colonnades were crafted from intricately patterned stone, inlaid with precious magical crystals.
Spacious plazas and fragrant gardens were dotted with magical fountains that spewed forth columns of iridescent light.
Broad streets were lined with rare and beautiful magical plants.
Glimmering ivory statues were situated throughout the city.
Every building embodied the endless dedication of Elven designers, ensuring their flawless perfection.
Even a single brick or tile was meticulously chosen to guarantee the most perfect visual experience.
In the grand and magnificent court,
The Everqueen, the Phoenix King, and many High Elf high-ranking officials were discussing matters concerning humans. The current Phoenix King was Finubar. To date, he was the eleventh.
Finubar was the prince of one of the ten kingdoms, Eataine.
In his youth, he was sent to travel the Old World and established connections with various races.
Finubar was a leader with an inclusive heart.
He abolished the previous Phoenix King's ban on seafaring and began to revive High Elf trade. This made the High Elves wealthy again and provided them with sufficient resources to construct their cities and fund military expenditures.
However, human development was now too rapid, and they had shown an ambition to rule the entire world.
Envoys from Middenheim had visited Ulthuan several times, hoping they would join an Imperium dominated by humans. To make the noble High Elves submit to humanity was something many High Elves found difficult to accept.
But if war were rashly initiated, the High Elves might not have enough strength to confront humanity.
Humans possessed a vast number of steam engines and airships, capable of launching attacks against enemies in any corner of the world.
Oceans and high mountains no longer posed obstacles. The Skaven empire was a thing of the past, and the Dwarfs of the Mountain Kingdoms had chosen to submit to humanity.
According to some rumors, Cathay, a distant eastern empire, had also agreed to ally with the Imperium.
Finubar didn't know how to decide.
If war broke out, would the High Elves have the power to resist humanity?
But the situation had reached a point where a decision had to be made.
Humans would not allow a powerful force that refused to obey them to operate within their territories.
In the name of the Emperor, they had unilaterally declared Ulthuan to be an ancient and sacred, inviolable territory of the Imperium.
Everyone could see this was blatant usurpation.
But the strength of the Imperium of Man was evident; even without saying anything, Ulthuan could be taken at will.
"The sacredness of Ulthuan is not for humans to defile," said Tieron, a legendary hero, to the many High Elf high-ranking officials attending the meeting. "We must defend the honor of the High Elves and let humans know that Ulthuan is not a place where they can commit evil deeds."
Tieron hailed from an ancient High Elf family.
He possessed considerable family wealth.
His martial prowess was strong, and he had excellent talent for commanding armies.
He had once defeated a Dark Elf invasion.
He was now the Phoenix King's capable lieutenant, responsible for commanding the allied armies, and also the Everqueen's close confidant.
"Then what can we rely on to defeat them?" a prince asked, his exquisite clothes adorned with an ancient family crest, the ruler of the ancient Kingdom of Eataine.
Eataine was the most powerful nation among the realms of Ulthuan, and they defended the Emerald Gate, one of Ulthuan's five fortresses. Their capital, Lothern, was also the court of successive Phoenix Kings.
Even the current Phoenix King, Finubar, was once a prince of Eataine. They wielded significant political influence. Their opinions had to be considered by all the princes and many high-ranking High Elves.
"With our magic and swords," the prince of Chrace stood up. He was not as frail as the other princes, looking more like a warrior than a mage. The territories of Chrace were largely the wildlands of the Annulii Mountains and rugged terrain.
Its inhabitants had learned to survive in harsh environments. They were skilled hunters and exceptional warriors. The White Lions of Chrace were renowned among the Elves and served as the Phoenix King's personal guard.
"That will only lead to all of us dying at the hands of those humans. Haven't you seen the messages brought back by travelers? They can easily burn down a city and destroy a kingdom. Dragons are as weak as insects before them, killed at will."
A prince voiced his opposition.
"I will not sacrifice the lives of my people for useless traditions and honor," another prince added.
As long as there is politics, there will be differing opinions. There will be arguments.
Everyone wants to convince the other.
Everyone believes they are right and others are wrong. This has nothing to do with race or system.
"To be honest, this is shameful cowardice," Teclis, the Archmage, surveyed the Elven princes who advocated for abandoning armed struggle, mocking them with a sarcastic tone. Teclis was Tieron's twin brother.
Unlike his brother Tieron, who was destined to wield a sword and become a mighty warrior, Teclis was extremely frail from birth.
Not only did he require twenty-four-hour care from healers, but he also needed a staff bestowed by Lileath, the Goddess of Magic, to stand and walk.
But one should not underestimate Teclis because of this.
He possessed unparalleled magical talent.
He was one of the most powerful mages in the Old World.
During the invasions of Chaos and the Dark Elves, he had once soundly defeated both, leaving behind terrifying, legendary achievements lauded by countless Elves.
"This is not cowardice; this is a necessary compromise to protect our people," a prince said coldly.
"Humans have promised good enough terms; we can continue to live in Ulthuan, maintain our traditions, and enjoy the benefits of their steam technology. The only demands made by humans are loyalty to the Imperium and a tithe, and to send our soldiers to fight when needed."
"Their promises don't change the fact that the great High Elf race would become vassals of humans. This great race has thousands of years of glorious history, while humans are merely newly rich upstarts.
To sell the dignity and honor of your race for a paltry sum, you truly disgust me." Teclis' tone was utterly contemptuous, infuriating several Elven princes.
If Tieron hadn't been there, they would have directly cursed him, saying, "You sickly wretch, what are you pretending to be!"
Tieron's martial prowess was unmatched among the High Elves.
He never considered the occasion or the opponent's status when hitting someone.
Every person who dared to insult him and his brother would be beaten black and blue, even to the point of losing control of their bladder and bowels.
"I will provide all support except for military forces," a prince said coldly. "Since the Twins of Morion are so confident, then go and conquer the Imperium."
"Cowards," Tieron said coldly.
Watching the High Elves about to disperse on bad terms, Phoenix King Finubar also felt a headache.
He stopped their argument.
"Our responsibility is to protect the High Elf race; this is the most important reason we are gathered here. Rashly engaging in war with humans does not serve our interests; it would lead to the deaths of countless High Elves.
To let so many of our people die for an illusory, unrealistic honor would mean we are not qualified guardians. Yet, the High Elf race, with its long history and brilliant culture, will never become vassals of humans like this."
"I will assemble a negotiating delegation to secure more benefits for us, uphold the honor and autonomy of the High Elf race, and seek a suitable path without war."
Phoenix King Finubar's words caused Teclis some dissatisfaction.
In his opinion, such an approach was undoubtedly a symbol of weakness and incompetence. The High Elf race should be on equal footing with humans, or even enjoy special privileges. They were the great, ancient High Elves!
They were the rightful masters of this world, the main force against the daemonic armies of Chaos. Tieron also felt dissatisfied.
He bore the curse of Aenarion.
It was said that Aenarion, to achieve victory, had drawn the Sword of Khaine, which cursed him and his descendants to be slaves to the Sword of Khaine. This curse reached its peak in Tieron.
He possessed immense martial power and a tyrannical, unpredictable temperament, a living embodiment of Khaine. Tieron craved war and bloodshed.
He felt a giant void within his heart that needed countless amounts of blood and slaughter to fill.
"I believe—" Just as Tieron began to speak, an armored guard rushed in. The guard brought news that shocked many High Elves.
"Human airships are currently hovering over Lothern."
As they exited the palace, they saw several magnificent airships suspended high in the sky. The golden double-headed eagle emblem shining in the sunlight declared the identity of the arrivals.
"They just bypassed our magical barrier? And we had no warning whatsoever?" a High Elf prince said with lingering fear. "If war really breaks out, what will we use to fight them?"
"You should think about it from another angle: they disregarded us and trespassed into our territory without any notification. Has Ulthuan already become human territory? Can they come and go as they please?"
Teclis said angrily. "They are already so reckless before an alliance is even established; if an alliance were made, wouldn't they treat it as their own home, entering and exiting freely?"
"We should immediately protest to them and demand their departure," Tieron said. "The dignity of the High Elf race must not be offended."
"Please be patient," Finubar appeased the twins and instructed his mages to communicate, and the honor guard to arrive as soon as possible.
But to the surprise of many High Elves, it was not humans who descended from the airships.
Instead, they were beings identical in appearance to them, wearing strange armor. Their appearances were so similar. The only difference was their armor and the weapons in their hands.
Teclis, Tieron, the Everqueen, and even the Phoenix King, along with other High Elves, all stared at this scene in stunned silence.
Astonishment spread across the faces of the many High Elves like waves.
Could there be High Elves lost in other places?
Why were they so similar?
"Who are you?" Phoenix King Finubar struggled to remain calm, stepping forward gracefully to ask.
"We are the Aeldari from the Imperium universe. We share the same creators as you, the Old Ones," Eldrad, who was at the forefront and responsible for speaking, said. "From a biological and genetic perspective, we should belong to the same race."
Cegorach was surrounded by many seers.
His status was noble, and he should not be burdened with such trivial matters.
Several High Elf mages, including Teclis, immediately looked at him.
From beneath the body wearing a jester's mask, they felt a terrifying power like an ocean.
Something hidden in their bloodline awakened with the gaze of those eyes. That was a god!
Teclis' face showed terror as he made his judgment.
Teclis is currently the most accomplished master of magic among the High Elves.
In the application of magic, sensing the opponent's psyker energy, and projecting into the warp, he would never make a mistake. The fellow wearing the jester's mask was a genuine god.
Even without emitting terrifying soul fluctuations, he could feel the opponent's soul shining like the sun.
Compared to the other party, his soul was like a firefly.
Besides the fellow wearing the mask, another guest attracted Teclis' attention. The other party was encased in armor with intricate patterns, and a slender sword hung at their waist. Teclis couldn't see the other party's face, but he could feel a terrifying power of death hidden beneath the armor.
It wouldn't be surprising to call them the mortal incarnation of death.
Sensing someone watching them, the other party looked up and their gaze met Teclis'. Those pitch-black eyes were like an abyss. They would suck people's souls into a lightless world. Teclis suppressed the fear of wanting to turn and flee.
He fell silent.
No longer indignant as he was initially, wanting to shout and kill the uninvited guests. Tieron, however, didn't change.
His eyes were filled with fury.
If the Phoenix King hadn't been there, he would likely have drawn his sword to test the opponent's skill. The arrival of the eldar caught the Phoenix King and his entourage off guard.
Who could have imagined that within the Imperium, dominated by the God-Emperor, there already existed an elven race?
There was a slight difference in name. They called themselves High Elves.
While the others called themselves eldar.
But the Phoenix King could tell at a glance that these pointy-eared beings calling themselves eldar were definitely their kin.
That inherent arrogance was definitely something other races lacked. The numerous eldar envoys were welcomed into the palace.
Eldrad and the others had come to meet the Phoenix King and his entourage not to negotiate, nor to persuade these backward kin.
But to declare their rule over the High Elven race.
As soon as they sat down, High farseer Eldrad spoke.
"For the greater good of our race, you must submit to our rule," Eldrad said. "Only by doing so can our race be united and become stronger."
"I do not understand the meaning of your words, kinsman," said Phoenix King Finubar, the shock in his heart still as difficult to calm as a storm. Yet, as a king, he still displayed unimaginable composure. "We have lived here happily for many years. By what right do you declare upon arrival that we must accept your rule?"
"This is the best choice," Eldrad said. "A fragmented eldar race will only weaken our voice within the Imperium, which is a great detriment to the interests of our race."
"You have already joined the Imperium? And become a part of them?" Finubar immediately grasped the key point in the other party's words. These kin from the Imperial universe had already become part of the Imperium.
Eldrad had no intention of denying it; he nodded.
"The God-Emperor commands countless armies, and his influence has spread throughout this galaxy and is expanding into other universes.
We eldar are his most valued allies, which is why you have not been subjected to violent invasion by the Imperium, because they must abide by ancient treaties. A united eldar race will help us gain more influence."
"The Imperium of Man dares not invade Ulthuan with violence because we are strong enough, not because of your charity," Tieron said, standing up. In his opinion, Eldrad's words were somewhat insulting.
Ulthuan made the Imperium of Man fear it through its own strength.
Not because of some distant kin that prevented the invasion. Tieron's words made several eldar Farseers chuckle involuntarily. This was quite rude; mocking backward and ignorant kinsmen was a terrible sin, yet they still couldn't help but laugh.
A backward, barbaric faction occupying a large island, claiming they could make the Human God-Emperor fear them.
If the many races that had left their planets and become interstellar civilizations heard this, they would likely get up just to see who was so arrogant as to utter such boastful words.
"Are you mocking us?" Tieron grew angry. "You know nothing of Ulthuan's strength. Your weakness and subservience to humans do not mean we are also weak."
"But you also know nothing of the God-Emperor," Eldrad said. "If someone in Middenheim were to issue an exterminatus order for this world, the report wouldn't even need to reach the Terran bureaucrats who serve the God-Emperor."
"Then let your so-called God-Emperor try," Tieron stood up and drew his sword.
But in the next second, he was sent flying.
With a casual wave, Eldrad sent the powerful High Elf warrior flying, crashing into the wall behind him. The massive impact caused cracks in the wall.
Eldrad clenched his hand, and Tieron was lifted into the air. This potential Avatar of Khaine was thus firmly controlled by an invisible force.
His limbs were tightly locked within his armor, trembling uncontrollably. Teclis raised his staff, intending to act on behalf of his brother.
A dazzling brilliance flashed through the silent air.
A gleaming sword, sparking with arcs of electricity, sliced through Teclis' staff, splitting it in two. The tip of that sword was placed at the other party's throat.
An eldar warrior, clad in death-themed armor, stood before Teclis. The hilt of that blade was held tightly in his hand.
Beneath the helmet, the threat conveyed by those eyes was obvious.
Any further movement would result in summary execution.
Eldrad threw Tieron aside again before looking at Phoenix King Finubar.
"With our strength alone, we could easily slaughter you. Let alone the Imperium; you wouldn't even have a chance to fight back before being completely annihilated by terrifying bombardment. Dealing with you wouldn't even qualify as a battle, more like an insignificant warm-up."
The strength displayed by the eldar group was utterly crushing.
Even killing all the princes and the strongest warriors of the High Elves would not be a difficult task for them.
Phoenix King Finubar's face turned pale.
He knew clearly that there was no other choice. The Imperium of Man having these kin from another universe appear was already the final ultimatum.
If they didn't know better this time, there likely wouldn't be a next time. These kin from another universe would definitely slaughter them and take over the elven race.
Whether it was Dark Elves, High Elves, or Wood Elves, these eldar envoys would use brutal and effective means to conquer and rule.
"If you can represent the interests of the elven race, then Ulthuan will submit to your rule," said Phoenix King Finubar. "But I say this beforehand, if you collude with humans to seize our interests by force or trickery, the High Elven race will absolutely not sit idly by."
"No eldar would be foolish enough to steal bread from a beggar's bowl," Eldrad said, quoting an ancient eldar proverb. The first negotiation between kindred beings from different universes achieved complete success.
"You have traveled a long way and must be weary. Please allow the servants to escort you to guest rooms to rest. There will be a banquet tonight to welcome you," said Phoenix King Finubar, struggling to suppress the rage in his heart and doing his best to maintain an elegant demeanor.
During the interaction with the other party, their words were full of arrogance and rudeness.
For the first time, Finubar understood just how annoying the elven arrogance, which other factions had always criticized, truly was.
After settling the eldar envoys and finalizing some details for the evening banquet.
Everqueen Alarielle went to visit the injured Tieron. They spent a long time in intimacy.
Until all the rage in Tieron's heart was vented upon Alarielle's body. The two didn't stop their actions until they were breathless and exhausted.
Alarielle's usual noble appearance had vanished at this moment. Her flawless, beautiful face was flushed, and her soft, golden hair was in complete disarray.
Many strands of hair were even stuck to her forehead with sweat.
On the soft quilt, there were traces of sweat everywhere. The air was filled with a luxurious atmosphere.
"Fenubar's cowardice angers me," Tieron said, looking at the Everqueen in his arms. "He shouldn't have grovelled before those envoys. He is the Phoenix King, the spiritual leader of the High Elves."
"Fenubar has his reasons," Alarielle said. "We shouldn't accuse him like that. As the Phoenix King, he has to consider the overall interests of the High Elves. If we went to war with the Imperium, could we truly win?"
"But he shouldn't have been so weak," Tieron said. "Even if we lost, we should have let those people from the Imperium know that we have backbone and won't be pushed around by them."
"But what if those humans don't care? They won't see the High Elves' backbone, only that the High Elves resisted them. What measures would they take against us then? Like how they dealt with the Skaven, carpet bombing Mourkhain, utterly destroying everything? Killing every influential leader to ensure this race has no hope of rising again?"
"Do you think they're incapable of that? Look at our kin from other universes. Haven't you felt their cruelty and coldness? What terrifying slaughter and ruthlessness are hidden within their words of peace. Destroying a world, destroying a race, is nothing that weighs on their minds."
"Even creations of the Old Ones can do that, let alone humans. Among those envoys, several possessed power comparable to, or even far surpassing, the Elven pantheon. You are not sensitive to magic, so perhaps you didn't notice.
But I and your brother felt it. They are the mortal avatars of gods, wielding unimaginable power. And they were forced to submit to that so-called Emperor. Imagine the power he commands."
Alarielle's words plunged Tieron into silence. This was something he hadn't considered.
He had been too impulsive.
"If those Aeldari envoys truly considered our interests, then naturally there would be peace. But if they thought they could oppress the High Elves alongside those damned humans, then they were mistaken. Even if it cost me my life, I would resist to the end."
Alarielle didn't continue speaking.
Instead, she rose from Tieron's embrace.
Counting the time, the banquet was about to begin. The Phoenix King and the Everqueen are symbols of the High Elves, and their nominal consorts.
Naturally, she couldn't be absent from such an important banquet.
"Focus on healing your wounds," Alarielle said before leaving. With the help of her handmaidens, she put on her intricately patterned robes and departed.
Only Tieron remained.
His beloved's departure left Tieron alone, and he was reminded again of how easily the Aeldari envoys had defeated him during their meeting.
A longing for power surged within him. The call of the Sword of Khaine echoed in his ears once more. That voice resonated in his mind.
As long as he drew the Sword of Khaine, he would be invincible, conquering all. The undead army assembled this time was unprecedentedly terrifying and powerful.
Under Nagash's terrifying power, those mighty Tomb Kings were enslaved and controlled once more. The Tomb Kings' burial legions, along with the dead converted over the years, all became Nagash's pawns.
In addition, there were vast numbers of vampires, gargoyles, and spectres.
From a mortal perspective, this army was shockingly large. They advanced mightily, with black clouds rolling wherever they went, as if the apocalypse had arrived. The dead advanced like a torrent.
Only death remained in their wake.
Mannfred was the commander of this massive army, and many necromancers and high-ranking vampires gathered around him.
Nagash had resurrected many of his former subordinates.
Planning for them to lead the undead army and conquer the whole world. The first target was naturally humanity. They had expected this to be a smooth victory.
Mannfred set out full of ambition.
He swore to take Middenheim for Nagash and make all humans kneel before his master.
With such a massive undead army, even if Sigmar were resurrected, there would be no way to stop them.
However, fate is often so dramatic.
When the undead army entered the wilderness.
A massive fleet of airships appeared. They simply hovered high above the wilderness, as if waiting for the undead army to approach.
Mannfred ordered the archers and necromancers to prepare.
Preparing to give the humans a shock from the great undead army.
Just as he was exercising his command talent, directing his troops with extreme efficiency.
A piercing whistle came from the sky.
An object the size of a house, made entirely of steel and shaped like a spindle, dropped into the center of the undead army.
Not a single necromancer or vampire knew what it was.
Until it exploded. The terrifying explosion was as if it was tearing the earth apart.
Everything within a radius of several kilometers from the impact point was obliterated.
Even rocks melted under the high temperature, plants and trees were carbonized, and everything was completely torn apart by the surging blast wave.
If Mannfred hadn't been standing a little further back and hidden in a natural trench several meters deep the moment the explosion occurred, he would likely have been reduced to dust by the aftershock.
Accompanied by the rise of a giant mushroom cloud thousands of meters high.
Countless undead and vampires were caught in the blinding light. The brilliant intense light was like the sun suddenly appearing on the earth, making everything as bright as day.
After more than ten minutes, the shaking stopped. The dishevelled Mannfred crawled out of his hiding place. The sea of undead, which he believed could destroy all enemies in the world, had been shattered.
Some undead who were further away and possessed considerable strength survived. Although dishevelled, they did not collapse under the enemy's initial assault.
He finally understood how his father, Vlad, had failed.
Against such enemies, no amount of undead or vampires would be of any use. That was simply divine punishment, a heavenly wrath.
It was a power only gods could wield. The airships, arranged in neat formations, flew in from the horizon.
Artillery fired continuously, annihilating the enemies who had survived the orbital bombardment.
On one of the airships, the group of five was present.
Gazing at the wilderness turned to scorched earth, their faces were filled with the same shock as the other soldiers.
Just a single casual strike from those magnificent warships had resolved a crisis that, in their eyes, was enough to end the world.
Destroying Nagashizzar would probably just be a matter of another shot.
Mannfred realized the defeat was sealed. The two sides were not on the same level at all.
He had lost even before a pitched battle had begun.
He decisively ordered a retreat back to Nagashizzar.
Of course, to slow down the enemy's advance, he ordered the undead troops to scatter and flee.
Some fled towards densely populated plains, forcing the human armies to abandon their pursuit in order to protect the civilians. This tactic achieved remarkable results.
Even with airships, the humans couldn't keep up with the upper echelons of the undead army, including Mannfred. They occasionally had to drive away the undead trying to flee towards cities of the living, ensuring these monsters wouldn't cause any trouble for the Imperium's citizens.
Of course, the Imperial army wasn't concerned about the escape of Mannfred and the others. They would gradually clear out Nagash's pawns and capture the most powerful necromancer in history, sending him to the Sages' laboratory as a research specimen.
In the near-orbit of the Old World.
Aboard a battleship named the 'Light of the Imperium'.
Arthus stood before a holographic projection.
He witnessed the entire process of the orbital bombardment, personally seeing the massive undead army annihilated. The Supreme Commander used this opportunity to give them, the greenhorns, a harsh lesson.
Letting them know how to deal with enemies who dared to defy the Emperor of the Imperium.