Warmaster glanced at Yuji and his crew, deciding to finish this match first, then see what the mission was all about.
He turned back to Yvraine and struck his shield a few times with his sword. "A Son of Dorn never backs down from a challenge."
This declaration immediately made Amalrich and the fearless veteran Sade feel a sense of camaraderie with Warmaster. The Black Templars and the Celestial Knights are both Successor Chapters of the Imperial Fists, and Warmaster's words clearly hit home.
Yvraine stepped into the gladiatorial cage. She was tall, wore ceremonial armor, and wielded an ordinary longsword. Warmaster's face was solemn. He took a fighting stance, his gaze locked on his opponent.
Yvraine's face was delicate, possessing an almost unearthly beauty. Her eyes were as deep as a dark pool, as if she could see right through his soul. Born on the Craftworld of Biel-Tan, she initially pursued the path of the Outcast, aspiring to be a dancer.
Later, she discovered a powerful psyker potential, so she switched to the path of the Prophet and became a Warlock. Feeling capricious and perhaps a bit too violent, she later turned to the Warrior path and became an Avenger.
She even served as a pirate for a time, before an accident landed her in Commorragh, the base of the Dark Eldar. There, she joined a Wych Cult. Under the protection of Lady Malys, a key lieutenant of Commorragh Overlord Vect, she became an elite ruler of the Wych Cults: a Succubus.
Yvraine made a name for herself with her superb martial arts. Malys thought she had star potential, pitting her against the Gladiator Queen Lelith Hesperax and captives from countless races—including Tyranids, Greenskins, Necrons, and Tau.
It was an unprecedented gladiatorial contest that attracted countless Dark Eldar spectators. During the brutal match, Yvraine made a mistake, was stabbed in the chest by Lelith, and bit the dust in the arena. It was this death, however, that earned her the blessing of the Eldar God of Death, Ynnead, making her the messenger of death.
Warmaster advanced with his shield, attempting to test the waters with Yvraine. His opponent didn't attack, merely dodging to the side. Warmaster spun quickly, keeping his shield locked on the enemy. If he revealed an opening, the opponent would likely finish him off instantly.
Yvraine looked relaxed, in no hurry to engage. "The combination of shield and sword will neutralize agile opponents. Your choice is absolutely correct. Against a regular opponent, your chances of winning would be very high."
"The problem is that many enemies in this universe possess unconventional methods."
"For example..."
Suddenly, two figures appeared where Yvraine stood. One to the left, one to the right, both simultaneously swinging their swords at Warmaster. Warmaster used his shield to block the attack from the right and his sword to block the attack from the left.
Clang!
The sword and shield collided, making a ringing sound. The Yvraine on the left vanished into thin air.
"It's a smart decision, but it's not enough," the other Yvraine said. She had reappeared on the left, and a whip kick whipped toward his knee joint, forcing him to drop to one knee.
Before Warmaster could even get his bearings, Yvraine's sword was at his throat.
"You lose," she stated. "Your reaction was too slow. The moment you knelt down, you should have rolled over, created some distance, and then counterattacked—not tried to stand up."
The entire bout was over in the blink of an eye—barely two minutes. The players watching wailed, lamenting Warmaster's failure to defeat Yvraine. But they quickly rationalized it: Yvraine had made a name for herself in Commorragh and was the messenger of death. If she lost to Warmaster, the Eldar would truly be in deep trouble.
"You did a great job," Amalrich said, helping Warmaster up. "Before long, you'll definitely be able to get the best of her."
Remembering that Sade said the Saints live for loot, especially relics, Amalrich decided to give the player some motivation. "If you can defeat the Eldar Prophet, I promise to let you enter the Black Templars' Relic Vault to choose a weapon."
Warmaster's eyes instantly lit up. "Really?"
"Of course. A Son of Dorn never breaks his oath." Amalrich nodded.
The wailing players outside were stunned.
"No way, is this guy really that lucky?"
"The Emperor of Europe needs to go."
"I want in too." WrongHammer brazenly approached Amalrich.
Amalrich looked at WrongHammer. "Are you also a Son of Dorn?"
"Yes! I am a member of the Death Watch of the Sons of Dorn!"
WrongHammer's words made the surrounding players roll their eyes. "For a little reward, he'll sell his own mother."
"I wonder how heartbroken Mortarion must be to hear you say that! He's rolling in his grave!" Yuji condemned WrongHammer with a look of contempt.
Amalrich put his hand on WrongHammer's shoulder. "If you must challenge me, you can. If you can defeat that Death Messenger fairly, I will also let you enter the Black Templar's Relic Vault to choose your desired reward."
"Grand Marshal Amalrich, hello, I am a Thousand Sons of Dorn—pleased to make your acquaintance." Yuji immediately changed his tune, abandoning his righteous look.
The players next to him were crying foul, saying he was all bark and no bite—arrogant one moment, completely servile the next. What a joke. But the very next second, they piled in, surrounding Amalrich and introducing themselves.
"I am a Luna Wolf, a member of the Sons of Dorn!"
"I am a World Eater!"
"I am a Word Bearer..."
"I am Alpharius..."
The arena was a madhouse. The players swarmed Amalrich, desperate to get their hands on the quest. He couldn't even get a word in edgewise.
In the end, he could only declare that the first ten Saints who defeated Yvraine would each be allowed to enter the Black Templars' Relic Vault and choose their favorite prizes. For the rest, the Black Templars would issue consolation rewards and medals of honor.
Wrapping up the little episode in the arena, Warmaster, Yuji, and the others huddled up to discuss the mission the Guide had just issued.
"We're heading to Sotha? The Pharos Lighthouse is there, and since the Guide has Arale—a technology that can analyze Necron tech—he must be making a play for the Pharos Lighthouse." Warmaster hit the nail on the head.
BaldCustodian scratched his head. "The Guide isn't an NPC, so why is he doing all the heavy lifting? Shouldn't we be the main characters?"
"That's how it goes," Warmaster explained. "How else can a game claiming 100% realism be playable? The developers are afraid you'll call the game a snooze-fest."
"Warmaster is right," Yuji agreed. "The Warhammer universe spans decades, even centuries. It's unrealistic to make players wait that long. The Guide is constantly moving the plot along, ensuring we get timely feedback and rewards for our efforts, which amps up the playability."
The Luna Wolf, Turtle, asked, "So, are you going or not?"
"I'm not going," Warmaster shook his head. "I need to hone my craft. Lucius must hate me to death. If he gets an opening, he'll definitely slice me into pieces and humiliate me severely. I can't let that happen. I have to find a way to deal with him."
"I'm not going either," BaldCustodian said. "I'm trying to improve my favorability with the Ultramarines to see if I can get into their Relic Vault."
"I'll go," Yuji said, clenching his fists, his face determined. "I want to follow the Guide and improve my favorability with him. I want him to know that no matter what, if he looks back, I'll be there in a heartbeat."
"Are you using the same tactics to kiss up to the Guide that you use on girls?" BaldCustodian rolled his eyes.
"You don't understand. Kissing up to a woman gets you nowhere. Kissing up to the Guide means you'll have it made in the future," Yuji chuckled. "Think about it: when Guilliman returns to Terra, he'll certainly hand the reins over to the Guide.
When the time comes, the Guide will remember me serving him wholeheartedly, working tirelessly, devoting myself to his work until my death, asking for nothing in return, being totally committed, and taking responsibility..."
"Hey! Hey! Is this an idiom recitation class? There should be a limit to tooting your own horn!" Turtle interrupted Yuji.
"How else can I prove my excellence without giving you the details? You're just jealous of me. When the time comes and the Guide puts me in charge, don't get green with envy." Yuji raised his head, already imagining a wonderful future.
While the veterans were discussing the mission, a busybody player sent the mission content to the official website forum.
GuillimanRules: I've already let it go. On this matter, I just want to say: well, the progress is solid. Keep up the great work.
Doraemon is the Omnissiah: Old Thirteen has finally seen the light and isn't obsessed anymore.
GuillimanRules: Why be sad? The full game will be released sooner or later anyway.
MC Shinhwa: Woo woo, leave some crumbs of plot for the new kids!
Knowing that Daniel was heading to Sotha, Cawl offered to join him. He also had a vested interest in the Pharos Lighthouse. Cawl persuaded a Mechanicus fleet to join the operation to provide logistical support.
With Daniel in charge, the journey through the Warp was exceptionally smooth. The group soon arrived at Planet Sotha. Sotha was once a world capable of sustaining life, but now it was utterly barren. The Tyranids had stripped it clean of all organic matter, leaving behind a bare stone ball. A damaged space station hung alone at the high point of the planet's equator.
When Daniel and the others arrived at the space station, the Scythes of the Emperor warriors who had received the news were already lined up on the tarmac waiting. Even though it was widely known that the Scythes of the Emperor were on the brink of extinction after the Second Tyranid War, seeing them in person drove home just how dire their situation was.
Only thirteen Scythes of the Emperor remained. They wore Power Armor pieced together from different marks, with many parts clearly incompatible but Frankensteined together and polished for use.
Players were discussing the Scythes of the Emperor in the communication channel.
"Yep, they're in the same boat as the Lamenters. Truly tragic."
"They don't even have a complete set of Power Armor?"
"Alas, pitiful! Even the gene-seed has been contaminated. I really don't know what they'll do with this Chapter."
"What can they do? They'll just rebuild with Primaris when the time comes."
Daniel glanced at the helmet's parameters. The air was breathable and the temperature, though chilly, was manageable. He took off his helmet, revealing his face.
Chapter Master Selesian of the Scythes of the Emperor looked at the noble face of the man before him and bowed slightly. "I am the Chapter Master of the Scythes of the Emperor. Welcome, Saint of the Emperor."
The Scythes of the Emperor warriors behind Selesian also bowed in salute. They had already obtained the relevant videos of the Macragge Festival and learned the identity of the visitor.
Thinking of the Macragge Festival, a profound sadness welled up in Selesian's heart. If it weren't for that humiliating secret, perhaps they could go and meet their genetic Primarch. Unfortunately, it was impossible.
For the Chapter's glory, they felt they had to wipe the slate clean. Perhaps the Scythes of the Emperor Chapter would be disbanded, but that was better than continuing with shame and suspicion hanging over them.