Dawn broke forth in brilliant light, the warmth of the sun dispelling the darkness.
Casting golden rays upon the vast land.
If one stood at the highest point of the Everqueen's Palace in Avelorn, Ulthuan, looking east, one could see the beautiful spectacle of the sunrise.
However, such a beautiful scene was left unappreciated. The Everqueen who resided here had long since departed, and even her servants had left with her.
After the feast, the Aeldari had completed their mission on this trip. They made another request to their kin in this universe.
That was to take them to the Isle of the Dead. The Isle of the Dead is not an ordinary landmass, but an island composed of rocks of various shapes and sizes.
Some stone pillars are submerged beneath the waves, forming the foundation for other pillars to stand upon.
Other pillars soar into the sky above, more magnificent and towering than the grandest Tower of Lothern or the Tower of Caledor, named after the first Dragon prince.
In the central area of the island is the last magic of Caledor Dragontamer, the origin of the Winds of Magic.
The Great Vortex. The scale of the vortex is extremely vast, connecting the sky and the earth, and anyone standing before the Great Vortex will naturally feel insignificant.
It was precisely by relying on the Great Vortex that the High Elves were able to repel the first Chaos invasion.
For daemons to be active in the material world, they must utilize the ever-present power of the Aether. The Great Vortex absorbs all the Chaos energy and transforms it into pure magical elements.
To create the Great Vortex, the first Phoenix King died in battle, Caledor Dragontamer was trapped, and a large number of Lizardmen Slann shed their blood on the battlefield. Thousands of years later, the Aeldari stepped onto this land. They disdained their weak and backward kin.
In Eldrad's eyes, these High Elves, who claimed to be noble, were even more pathetic than the Exodites who abandoned technology and lived a primitive life.
They were too backward, not even knowing how to leave their own world. They lost their footing when faced with such a small-scale Chaos invasion.
"This is it," Cegorach gazed at the magical vortex piercing the sky and stopped. The realms of the gods are located in the Warp.
To enter them, one must find a suitable path. This is also why Guilliman would have Cegorach and other Aeldari do such a thing. There is a deep bond between the Elves and the Aeldari.
Both are creations of the Old Ones, and even their genetic sequences are similar. There is not even reproductive isolation between the two.
It is much easier for them to enter the realms of the gods than for humans.
With a simple pull, they can enter that illusory realm.
If humans were to do such a thing, not only would their efforts be doubled with half the result, but they might also incur the instinctive dislike of the awakened Aeldari God of Death.
"What do the honored envoys intend to do?" Phoenix King Finubar asked.
When the other party requested to go to the Isle of the Dead, he had tried to ask, but the other party was vague and did not tell him the real reason.
"For a greater purpose," the Shadowseer whispered, "We must awaken the God of Death, and the key to awakening the God of Death is to perfect the concept of death. A god is the embodiment of a concept; their form is created by the thoughts of all sentient beings. To awaken the God of Death, we must either kill all Aeldari, or he must be born from the death of gods."
As a Phoenix King, Finubar was not foolish.
From the other party's words, he guessed what they wanted to do!
These Aeldari envoys wanted to kill their gods to awaken the so-called God of Death.
"No! How can you do such a thing?" Finubar shouted, "You claim to be our kin, yet you do such an unforgivable deed!"
The Phoenix King's anger caused Teclis and others to raise their weapons. They glared at Cegorach and his group.
"No one wants this to happen!" Cegorach stepped through the crowd and walked before Phoenix King Finubar.
"But we have no choice. Only when you open your eyes and see the threat to this world will you understand and comprehend what we are doing today."
Finubar was powerless to stop the sinister plot of the Aeldari. Those ghost-like Aeldari warriors subdued all the High Elf guards who had raised their weapons in an instant. They broke the weapons in the soldiers' hands, using this method to warn all the High Elves.
If they could break swords, they could naturally easily cut off heads. Taking the lives of all the High Elves present. Teclis felt an unprecedented humiliation.
But the blade of an Aeldari warrior was placed a few centimeters from his throat.
With just a slight push from the other party, he would be decapitated.
"Have you considered the consequences of killing a god?" Finubar said, "You cannot bear Asuryan's wrath."
For the first time, Cegorach removed his jester's mask.
Beneath that tall physique was not a physical body, but a constantly shifting illusion. There were a thousand faces, some angry, some benevolent, some laughing.
Varied and manifold.
What could be seen depended on the observer themselves.
Each High Elf saw something different.
Every pair of eyes saw the person they considered the most comical, the most ridiculous.
"I know, because I myself am a god," Cegorach said, then turned away, no longer paying attention to them.
He spread his arms and roared out the ancient runic words.
Using his divine power to open a path to the pantheon of the High Elf race.
Every race, every faith has its own pantheon.
All the so-called gods are there.
Whether it's the God of Death, the God of Fate, or whatever else, they are all present. The faith of a race creates their own gods, their own pantheon.
As long as the right method is mastered, a path can be opened to that race's pantheon.
If faith endures, those so-called gods are immortal.
If faith collapses or is corrupted, then the gods will also meet their end. This is why the struggles between gods and daemons of many races ultimately fall upon the lives of the mortal realm.
Because the mortal realm is where the victory is decided.
No matter how impressive or high-minded a company is, its ultimate focus is the market.
Without a market, no matter how much it's hyped up, it's useless. The gods are the same.
It doesn't matter if they are hailed as the only true god of all ages, the omniscient and omnipotent supreme Creator, but ultimately, they must rely on the beings of the mortal realm.
Gods are much like human corporations.
With users, they can package even usury as a tech company, list on the innovation board, and have a bunch of sycophants calling themselves old servants.
Without users, even if the boss has a dozen impressive, awe-inspiring titles, it's completely useless.
Cegorach was a god, a laughing god, whose daily duty was to mock fate and bring joy to others.
He was not good at combat, nor was he good at magic. Trickery and manipulating hearts were his forte.
But he was born in the Aeldari empire, and once had countless Aeldari believing in him and worshipping him.
Faith brings power and elevates a god's status.
In ancient times, a small country with hundreds of thousands of people had a super strong army. The commander was a rare famous general, a master of war, strategizing and winning every battle.
Each of his generals had the courage to face ten thousand men.
Such an army could never defeat a modern nation with over a billion people.
Limitations in scale and technology already decided everything. To put it crudely, unless Cegorach was an idiot, he could crush the opponent just by using his divine power.
A publicly listed company with a full supply chain and a value of trillions losing to a small mom-and-pop store by the roadside, or even being counter-killed and having all its assets swallowed up by the other party. The area above the Great Vortex became transparent, and the Warp manifested.
Violent lightning poured out from the other realm, and the Aetheric ocean surged downwards as Cegorach chanted.
Countless terrifying existences revealed their bizarre and twisted outlines, their monstrous and colossal bodies making it impossible to look directly at them.
Cegorach's chanting grew higher and higher, as if reaching a climax. The temple of the gods appeared among those grotesque, terrifying, countless outlines.
Magnificent and beautiful, exceptionally exquisite, shrouded in endless divine light, sacred and solemn, utterly beautiful.
Dreamlike and illusory, not like a real existence. The High Elves witnessed their gods manifesting from the illusory world.
Asuryan, the chief god of the Elves, appeared in the temple.
Exceptionally handsome, with a unique kingly majesty.
Intimidating without anger, with a powerful aura.
His face held astonishment.
Completely unaware of how he had been pulled into the mortal realm.
"Kill him."
In full view of everyone, Eldrad shouted to the avatar of the God of Death, the Shadowseer, and the leaders of the death god's army.
Eldrad's boorish shout stunned many High Elves.
Several leaders of the Reaper Army were also momentarily taken aback.
Even Cegorach's gaze towards Eldrad, the Great Seer, was different.
If they hadn't been together all this time, he would have suspected that Eldrad had been replaced. Those words didn't sound like an elegant Aeldari at all.
Clearly, after spending a long time with humans, Eldrad had evidently picked up some of their less desirable customs. The leaders of the Reaper Army were, after all, seasoned veterans.
After a brief moment of surprise, they quickly reacted, without wasting much time. They activated their swords and charged forward. Their weapons all emitted an eerie aura that terrified Asuryan.
Asuryan had no idea what was happening from beginning to end!
He was just minding his own business in the temple, and then, with a 'snap,' he was dragged out by countless incantations.
As soon as he appeared, he saw a dozen or so individuals in bizarre armor saying they wanted to kill him!
Asuryan just wanted to ask one question:
Who did he provoke?
Is there no justice?
Is there no law?
These days, even a god gets shouted at and threatened with death!
He was dragged into the mortal realm by the power of the incantations, and then he saw those individuals charge at him with their weapons.
But he was, after all, the chief of the gods, the creator god of the Aeldari, wielding supreme authority.
Gods are not to be offended; this has been the rule since ancient times.
"Mortals, how dare you disrespect a god?" Asuryan erupted with a thunderous roar that could drive anyone mad.
He couldn't figure out what was happening.
But to so contemptuously say they wanted to kill him... This was something mortals could endure, but a god could not.
As Asuryan's wrath erupted, terrifying phenomena also appeared.
Purple lightning split the sky.
Night descended in just a few seconds. The sky instantly turned black.
If not for the torn veil above the Great Vortex, reflecting various strange lights, many High Elves and Aeldari would have been plunged into an eerie darkness.
A fierce wind raged, mixed with the screams of countless living beings. The maddening frenzy and lies of the vast ocean made countless High Elves in Ulthuan weep.
All senses were under assault.
Finubar could barely stand firm in the all-consuming gale.
Heaven and earth seemed to be collapsing, disintegrating.
Some terrifying, unimaginable, and unpredictable things all surfaced. They screamed and cried. Trying to pass through the rift and descend into the mortal realm.
If the world had an apocalypse, this was it.
According to legend, Asuryan was the first true god.
He was present when Chaos first arrived.
After the Old Ones' warp gates collapsed, the tendrils of Chaos also attacked the fledgling gods.
Khorne struck Asuryan down with an axe.
But Asuryan did not die.
He was reborn from the flames like a phoenix. The terrifying flames brought by his rebirth incinerated many daemonic servants who dared to invade the Aeldari pantheon.
Asuryan has countless stories and legends. The Temple of Asuryan in Ulthuan possesses his divine power.
Only the most powerful daemons could maintain their form near the temple. The Flame of Asuryan was an existence that daemons could not touch.
Even if his true form was dragged into the mortal world,
He still possessed nearly immortal power.
Asuryan transformed into a giant of flame, letting out an angry roar.
Surging power undulated in his chest like a tide.
Countless lightning balls fell from the sky, then exploded madly.
His armor erupted with a fiery glow.
Its dazzling intensity was like a million suns exploding at once. The pitch-black night sky was re-illuminated by him.
A terrifying aura permeated, causing cracks to appear in space-time. The eight colossal lodestones on the Isle of the Dead transmitted terrifying warp energy, desperately protecting the integrity of the island.
Asuryan's presence had already disturbed all of space-time.
His arrival in the mortal realm caused the flow of time to suddenly slow down.
Every falling raindrop and every extending flash of light became slow motion.
Space-time rippled and fluctuated due to his immense power.
Even the weakest god commanded power that mortals could only look up to.
And the Aeldari seers had already made preparations.
Before officially initiating this plan, they had already prepared contingency plans.
Several Aeldari seers jointly chanted incantations.
Invisible incantations solidified into tangible forms.
Eight floating crystals appeared out of thin air, composed of countless moving ancient symbols. They sealed off Asuryan's possible escape routes, completely locking him into the mortal realm.
Aeldari warriors, clad in armor meticulously crafted by the Imperium using the properties of soulless beings, charged forward like phantoms. Their weapons emitted a malevolent black light.
Asuryan brandished his blade, burning with unquenchable fire, intending to slay these mortal beings who dared to offend him.
But the opponents' speed was much faster than his. Their swords easily cut through his immortal body, leaving a black crack.
Asuryan, the King of Gods, felt an unprecedented fear.
It shouldn't be like this.
His body should be immortal, so why was he injured?!
There was something wrong with the weapons in the hands of those strange individuals!
This was a hunt.
A hunt for the once noble, unassailable supreme King of Gods.
Asuryan was dragged into the mortal realm's cage by the power of the incantations. The Aeldari warriors swarmed him like hunters. They sought to deplete Asuryan's divine power, carving wounds into his radiant, fiery body. This method was no different from hunting a large beast.
First, slowly exhaust the prey's stamina, and when it can no longer sustain itself, launch the final attack.
Asuryan struggled like a trapped beast. The ground beneath his feet trembled and cracked from his power. The Great Vortex also vibrated violently.
Asuryan's descent had disturbed the balance of the Great Vortex.
It became even more violent. The terrifying winds of magic felt almost tangible. Tieron, stunned by this scene, could feel magical power many times denser than usual.
Now, a casually cast fireball spell would likely have the power of a super-forbidden curse.
Asuryan struggled fiercely, terrifying power erupting from his body.
Void flames and raging lightning surrounded him.
But he could not break free from his bonds, nor could he escape back to his divine realm, his temple. Those blades continued to harm him, carving shocking and terrifying wounds into his immortal body.
He was weakened little by little.
When Cegorach joined the battle, Asuryan was at an absolute disadvantage.
His weapon was knocked away, his fiery hair disheveled, looking utterly wretched.
"I am sorry," Cegorach said with a sorrowful tone, gazing at Asuryan's face.
In another universe, he had once sincerely supported that universe's Asuryan.
Even though he knew this Asuryan was not the one he knew, it still made him feel uncomfortable and pained.
He was personally killing his 'brother'.
In Asuryan's astonished and terrified gaze,
Cegorach slowly plunged the blade, inscribed with countless complex curse runes, into his chest.
"No!"
These were Asuryan's last words.
His immortal body turned into ashes with lingering embers, scattering in the raging aetheric winds.
The God King had fallen.
Phoenix King Finubar witnessed his god die just like that. The blessings on him dissipated with Asuryan's death.
Countless High Elves felt as if a piece of their heart had been violently torn away.
Pain spread among them. Teclis, the Everqueen, and many other heroes watched on. Tears flowed from their eyes involuntarily.
Asuryan was dead.
Dead by the hand of the Laughing God.
It is rumored that a godslayer will surely be cursed.
Cegorach didn't know if this rumor was true.
He wasn't very knowledgeable about matters related to fate.
If it were true, he would not have the slightest regret. To defeat the Aeldari's eternal enemy, to give this nearly destroyed race a chance to survive,
The God of Death must be resurrected; only the God of Death can contend with the terrifying prince of Pleasure.
Only then can the surviving Aeldari be ensured not to be consumed after death.
A burning fragment of fire fell into Cegorach's hand.
Gods are creations of faith.
And the piece in his hand was Asuryan's essence.
In simpler terms, Asuryan's godhood and divine position were all here.
By obtaining this fragment and some faith from the High Elves, one could become a god.
A creator god within the Aeldari pantheon. The violent phenomena disappeared.
Everything vanished. The sky became bright again.
Asuryan's temple collapsed. The priests shed black tears of blood, weeping for their departed god. The eternal Flame of Asuryan was extinguished. The High Elves had lost their creator god.
Something had been permanently destroyed.
Cegorach put away the fragment of Asuryan. The sadness on his ever-changing face quickly vanished.
"Next one," he said.
"Whose turn is it this time?" an Aeldari seer asked.
Cegorach uttered a name that horrified Tieron, and indeed countless High Elf warriors.
"Khaine, the Bloody-Handed God," Cegorach said in a calm tone. "We need his fragments."