The most disgusting thing about Tzeentch is its omnipresence.
It is like a daemon that pries into people's desires, always able to hit your weak spot when necessary, making Emrys, even knowing there's a trap, have no choice but to walk into it.
But at least, it allowed Emrys to confirm one thing.
The intensifying conflict between the Sam-Hann Craftworld Eldar and humanity must be secretly orchestrated by Tzeentch; the entire scheme was set up for the Vigilus. If he wants to intervene and change the future outcome, he will inevitably have to contend with that sly old fox, Tzeentch!
Fortunately, governor Lucianne did not seem too foolish.
With governor Lucianne's words, Emrys had some confidence. Even if things got too big, it wouldn't be unmanageable; after all, Agamemnon was there to back him up!
The next day... all parties were stirring.
The Tempestus Scions Regiment, aboard Valkyrie transports, was ready for an aerial drop at any moment, while Vannock had brought in the 35th Regiment, stationed on the periphery as ordered.
Soon, Emrys led the Slaughter Squad and Elsa to the observation point, on a higher floor of a building, about two hundred meters in a straight line.
This was an excellent observation point; from a battlefield perspective, it ensured safety while clearly observing any movement in the target area, and evacuation would not be significantly hindered.
Evidently, before the speech began, the Sons of Vane-Blunt cult had spread the word, and a large number of civilians gathered here.
He finally saw Vane-Blunt Firebrand.
An older-looking, strange bastard, surrounded by psychic energy and with a face covered in oil paint, walked into the crowd in a long robe, step by step. Wherever he passed... the civilians automatically made way.
It was clear that the Sons of Vane-Blunt cult seemed to have a good reputation in the Mid-Hive, at least in the eyes of the common people, definitely much better than those damned nobles.
Vane-Blunt Firebrand, surrounded by the crowd, subtly turned his head, his gaze directed towards Emrys' position.
But he quickly withdrew his gaze, raised his arms, and shouted, bringing blessings to all beings in the name of the Sons of Vane-Blunt!
The speech began.
Cults that worship Tzeentch often possess excellent rhetoric, filled with deceptive language that, with a touch of psychic power, can easily exploit the weaknesses of the human heart.
Vane-Blunt Firebrand's highly manipulative speech quickly gained the approval of the common people. At a glance... thousands of people, under his words, grew increasingly agitated, gradually escalating into accusations and curses against the corrupt nobles, the decadent Imperium, and the incompetent rulers!
One after another, like a raging tide, growing more intense!
"Lord Emrys, aren't you going to stop them?!"
Vannock, standing beside Emrys, his face filled with righteousness, could no longer bear it, veins bulging on his forehead: "These damned heretics dare to insult the Imperium!"
Looking at the street engulfed by the crowd, all appearing emaciated, drained of all value by the nobles, so weak that they could easily be blown over by a gust of wind, Emrys didn't know what to say.
He wanted to ask... were those people wrong?
No, it wasn't those people who were wrong, but the Imperium's nobles, who lived in opulent palaces yet remained as greedy as pigs, already rotten. If not for their greed, how could the common people have ended up like this?
Was Tzeentch's language seductive?
No, it was not.
To be precise, what truly seduced those common people should have been the most fundamental desire... to live!
"Lord Emrys!"
Vannock's tone grew heavier. "No, don't mind them." Emrys' eyes grew cold as he glanced at the agitated Vannock: "Don't forget governor Lucianne's orders to you all."
Under governor Lucianne's command, Vannock could only sigh helplessly in the end.
The fervent, inflammatory speech continued. As a psyker, Emrys could clearly sense waves of surging Warp malice being stirred and heightened by the agitated emotions of the crowd, like a torrent invading the hive's fortress-grade shields from the Great Rift.
However, an unexpected situation occurred.
The Sam-Hann Craftworld Eldar, who should have appeared, were still nowhere to be seen!
"Order the Astra Militarum to retreat."
Emrys' voice was cold as he issued his first command.
What?!
Upon hearing this order, Vannock even doubted whether the person in front of him was truly 'Chaos'!
In this situation, not only did he not order the Astra Militarum to stop the spread of the cult, but he actually ordered them to withdraw. What was this heir of Emrys planning in his head?
"Colonel Vannock, please issue the order." Elsa, in front of outsiders, always remained as unapproachable as an iceberg, her voice containing a hint of pressure: "Please do not forget your identity. governor Lucianne explicitly ordered you to obey lord Emrys' command."
Vannock's pupils were practically spitting fire. He clenched his teeth tightly, balled his fists, and muttered angrily, "Alright, as you command!"
His current thought was to see what tricks this heir intended to play!
Soon, the Astra Militarum's 35th Regiment, which had surrounded Helian Street, withdrew. Aside from the Stormtrooper quick-reaction force currently airborne, the entire street was almost completely undefended.
Just then, a piercing shriek suddenly echoed from the sky.
The sound was as if air was being cut by a sharp knife, and three blood-red streaks of light flashed like lightning!
Looking at the three streaks of light, Emrys' tense nerves finally relaxed, and a smile appeared on his lips: "They've finally arrived."
Arrived? Who arrived?
Vannock was very shocked; it was as if he had known someone would come all along.
But, what happened in an instant immediately captured Vannock's attention.
From those three extremely fast, blood-red streaks of light, three figures leaped down. They wore crimson armor, but from their attire and style, they were definitely not forces of the Imperium!
They wore skull-like enclosed helmets, and their streamlined armor provided extreme flexibility. Their figures were identical to humans, but they were swifter and more lethal!
The three figures were clearly powerful, battle-hardened warriors. After leaping from the flat, boat-like aircraft, their target was quite clear: they headed directly towards the center of the crowd, towards the cult leader who was spreading incitement and causing Warp turbulence, firing thin beams of light from their muzzles!
However, the beams of light struck the cult leader and were deflected by some kind of force field.
Vane-Blunt Firebrand seemed to have anticipated this; the psychic energy around him suddenly intensified, churning and surging like a tide.
Ominous signs of the Warp, fire and lightning intertwined, countless shrieks echoed in the void, and a chilling wind, laden with malice, engulfed the entire street!
"The show has begun."
Looking at the Eldar warriors charging towards him, Vane-Blunt Firebrand actually spread his arms, as if to embrace them, a bizarre smile on his oil-painted face: "Great Lord of Change, your devoted son will stage an excellent play for you!"
The sudden assassination, while causing a commotion in the crowd, was quickly quelled by Vane-Blunt Firebrand's inflammatory voice, as he used highly deceptive words to pin all blame on the corrupt Imperium of Man!
It was the greedy nobles, it was the decadent Imperium of Man!
The originally terrified crowd, under those deceptive words, once again gathered around the cult leader. Negative emotions like anger, hatred, abomination, and jealousy burned fiercely like a prairie fire, assailing the barrier between the Warp and the material universe!
"That's right! Just like that!"
Vane-Blunt Firebrand's oil-painted face, illuminated by the twisted runes, seemed to undergo an ugly transformation. His voice remained high-pitched, and he excitedly waved his arms: "Resist! Resist! Tear those greedy nobles to shreds!"
The three carefully selected Eldar warriors, who were the first wave to execute the decapitation, were already battle-hardened. Seeing that the element of surprise was lost, they all drew their warblades. Their movements were agile and swift, like flickering Psylocke, as they once again closed in on the cult leader.
"Hahahahaha... Useless!"
Vane-Blunt Firebrand looked at the three approaching streaks of crimson light, and with a sudden wave, a massive amount of psychic energy immediately poured out, crashing forward like surging waves.
Boom!
With a single strike, dozens of civilians were crushed into meat paste.
However, the Eldar warriors' attack was once again repelled. The three figures were in an extremely sorry state, crashing into buildings and being buried by the collapsing rubble.
Just then, several more crimson figures appeared like ghosts. One of them was tall, and his war spear lunged out with a fierce and terrifying momentum!
"Too slow! Too slow!"
But Vane-Blunt Firebrand had already foreseen it. He turned, clenched his five fingers, and psychic flames erupted. The shockwave from the explosion forcibly knocked back the Eldar figures.
Looking at the tall figure, he pulled a sinister grin: "Samhain's Autarch truly thinks highly of me, but... it's not enough!"
The Eldar warriors remained silent, using shuriken catapults and other ranged weapons, combined with power blades, to try and find an opportunity for a killing blow. As the most outstanding among them, Autarch Rilorn led the charge.
The war spear shone with a brilliant light, striking like a meteor!
Clang!
It sounded like metal clashing, stirring up layers of air currents.
Even though the surrounding civilians were torn apart by the aftershocks, with blood and flesh splattering, the fanaticism on their faces did not diminish in the slightest. They roared out the name of Vane-Blunt's Son, endlessly surging towards the cult leader!
Psychic energy shrieked, collided, and exploded!
The Eldar warriors were cautious and conservative, seemingly restricted everywhere. Although they knew exactly how to weaken the cult leader's power, from their actions, they were trying their best to avoid harming innocents.
Did the Eldar care about human lives?
No, that wasn't it. Emrys knew very well that the Eldar were so conservative most likely because Samhain's Farseer adhered to the concept of 'cooperation' with humanity.
Once too many civilians were slaughter, it would inevitably cause the already fanatical Imperium of Man to completely turn its spear towards the Eldar!
This was both to preserve the Watcher's Eye, a place of great importance for the Eldar's future, and to demonstrate the possibility of negotiation to the Imperium of Man for future cooperation.
However, this way...
The Eldar warriors found it difficult to approach the cult leader, let alone assassinate him. The situation seemed to have fallen into a stalemate!
In just a few minutes, the situation suddenly became chaotic!
There were cults, there were heretics. Vannock felt his mind was going numb. What exactly was happening?
"Lord Emrys... what should we do now?"
Vannock was horrified by the sudden turn of events.
But what caught him even more off guard was that, according to satellite reports, the Helian district, along with seven or eight surrounding districts, formed a bizarre symbol when viewed from above!
Anyone with eyes could see the current situation.
The Helian district had been pre-etched with twisted, blasphemous runes, forcibly 'binding' all civilians to them, using their agitated heightened emotions as an external 'amplifier' to enhance psychic power!
In other words... to defeat the cult leader as quickly as possible, one must start from the 'root cause.'
What was the 'root cause'?
The tens of thousands of civilians filling the entire Helian district, and even the nearby seven or eight districts, were the 'root cause.' They were the endless, surging waves of anger and resentment pouring out from the Warp, a source of power!
Tzeentch used tens of thousands of civilians as a pawn.
If the current situation were compared to a game of chess, then the tens of thousands of civilians before them were the pawns that had crossed the river, ready to die!
The Great Rift spanned the sky, emitting an eerie glow.
Emrys seemed to be able to feel, amidst the surging psychic shrieks, the playful gaze of the Loki from the depths of the Warp, from within that Crystal Labyrinth, as if he was anticipating... Emrys' choice!
At this moment, he seemed to sense a gaze.
Following that gaze, Emrys saw an Eldar holding a golden staff, clearly of extremely high status. Farseer Qelanaris?
Emrys paused slightly, then guessed her identity. And that Farseer Qelanaris was quietly watching him, as if... waiting for his answer.
What answer?
He knew it well. Turning his gaze back to Helian, Emrys had already made his decision, letting out a soft sigh: "Notify the Astra Militarum, the 47th Regiment, to suppress... the rioting civilians, at all costs."
Yes, the choice Tzeentch left him was only this path!
Evacuate civilians in advance?
No, even if civilians were evacuated in advance, it wouldn't change the outcome. Vane-Blunt's Son had operated in the Hyperion sector for many years, and his doctrine had long been deeply ingrained. Unless the Astra Militarum and the Adeptus Arbites were ordered to jointly use coercive measures to remove civilians.
But once the civilians were dispersed, who could guarantee that Vane-Blunt's Son wouldn't completely hide, seeking the next opportunity to stab the Imperium of Man in the back when it was most vulnerable?
No one dared to gamble!
This was precisely why Emrys had to do it!
Allowing the Tzeentch cult to continue was too dangerous. Just as the Eldar prophesied, it had to be eradicated!
He was not qualified... to save those tens of thousands of people.
But he was even less qualified, because of those tens of thousands of people and ridiculous compassion, to abandon the tens of trillions of lives on the entire Watcher's Eye!
Sometimes, one had to admit.
The Inquisitor's methods, though extreme, were the absolutely correct choice in the fanatical Warhammer Universe!
That Farseer was also waiting for his decision.
Eldar warriors could not shed human blood, but... he, as the supreme Commander, could do so.
"Did you not hear my order?"
Emrys' cold, chilling gaze, as if suppressing anger, fell on Vannock: "Colonel Vannock, at all costs, eliminate those rioting civilians, and curb and reduce the cult leader's psychic ritual!"
Eliminating tens of thousands of civilians seemed simple.
But Vannock knew very well what kind of pressure, guilt, and pain such a decision, almost inhumane and monstrous, would entail.
Not everyone could become an Inquisitor.
And not everyone could be so fanatical, making the most correct judgment in an extremely chaotic situation.
At least, Vannock had to admit that he didn't have such courage. Even though he had long seen how to solve the problem, he still dared not bear the consequences.
"Tell everyone, the order... came from me."
Emrys' face was stern, his voice firm and resolute, without the slightest waver: "In the name of the Emperor, burn the heretics. If you want to resent, then remember my name... Merlin Emrys!"
"Yes, Lord Emrys..."
Vannock involuntarily lowered his head, clenching his right hand into a fist and striking his heart. An indescribable feeling burned like a raging fire!
He looked at the young man, and a sudden feeling surged within him.
This was... a person worth following!
Colonel Vannock accurately relayed Emrys' orders to the outlying 35th Astra Militarum Regiment and the waiting 47th Regiment.
The Astra Militarum is the Emperor's army. Although there may be questions about the correctness of orders, regimental Commanders and Commissars are even clearer about one thing... questioning is allowed, but orders must be obeyed!
Soon, the 35th Regiment focused on a bloody, brutal suppression tactic starting from the outer districts, and the entire situation almost became a one-sided affair!
Unarmed civilians had no power to resist in front of the Astra Militarum. The dense crowds, under the bloody suppression of the well-formed Astra Militarum, were harvested and fell in swathes like wheat under a scythe. Blood almost converged into streams, deeply soaking into every crack in the street!
Screams, roars, and wails rose and fell in succession!
At the same time, the Stormtroopers of the 47th Antrael Lionhearts Regiment rapidly air-dropped from Valkyrie transports with grav-chutes, arriving at the combat zone!
Stormtroopers, as the elite of the Astra Militarum, possess unwavering discipline and courage beyond mortals. They are often deployed to the most brutal battlefields, securing every victory for the Emperor at any cost!
Every one of them is an elite among elites!
And all of them come from Schola Progenium, impeccable in loyalty, courage, and ability. They have undergone the most perfect human training; it's no exaggeration to say that every Progenium Stormtrooper, if thrown into the Marvel universe, would be a living... Captain America ProMax version!
The originally chaotic situation, under Emrys' decisive command, instantly became much clearer.
The rapidly air-dropped and deployed Stormtroopers were eradicating the rioting civilians incited by the cult with astonishing efficiency. The cultists hidden in the crowd tried to obstruct them with all their might, but unfortunately... this time, their enemies were the Progenium Stormtroopers, the most excellent and powerful special forces in the Imperial Astra Militarum!
Ruthless and efficient are definitely synonymous with Stormtroopers!
In just a few minutes, the Stormtroopers successfully reduced the encirclement by dozens of times. The number of rioting civilians was sharply reduced to hundreds, with almost all the remaining being cult members!
"Order the Stormtroopers to cease attack."
Just then, Emrys suddenly spoke.
If he didn't call a halt, he estimated that after the Stormtroopers finished clearing out the rioting civilians and cultists, their next target would be to clear out those conspicuous 'xenos'!
After all, humans can't distinguish between Aeldari and Drukhari.
"...Yes, Lord Emrys."
Although he still didn't understand the purpose of this order, Emrys' decisive command just now had already earned Vannock's respect, and he chose to trust the young man.
Emrys continued to observe the battlefield. The Stormtroopers were indeed the elite of the elite; following orders strictly wasn't just talk.
The moment they received the order, the entire regiment of Stormtroopers, as if in perfect unison, instantly halted their advance and shifted into a defensive formation.
Putting down his binoculars, Emrys turned to look at the position of the Farseer Qelanaris, and mouthed: "Now... it's your turn."
Though far apart, the Farseer still understood his lip-reading and nodded slightly in acknowledgment to Emrys.
The next moment, the Aeldari warriors, who had seemed to be slacking off in the battle, suddenly received orders and, led by the Autarch Raelor, charged towards the target!
Due to the suppression of a large number of sacrificed mortals by the Stormtroopers and Astra Militarum, Vane-Blunt Firebrand's psychic power significantly weakened, making him unable to easily resist the Aeldari's assassination.
The dazzling light emitted by the laser blasters instantly formed a rain of energy pulses with absolute suppressive power, both obscuring the target's vision and creating conditions for a decisive blow!
Vane-Blunt Firebrand was forced to use psychic power to defend against the opposing suppressive fire, but similarly... the overly dazzling lasers made him unable to open his eyes.
It was this second!
Autarch Raelor, holding a power spear, rapidly approached like a phantom under the cover of the surrounding Aeldari warriors.
The power spear, imbued with a molecular disintegration field, pierced through the psychic defense with ease, like a death knell from the God of Death, before he could even react!
Pfft!
The spear tip, carrying blood, burst forth from his chest!
Vane-Blunt Firebrand's painted face seemed to show surprise, but soon a smile emerged from his eyes.
Although this blow was enough to inflict a fatal injury!
However, the inherently cautious Autarch Raelor knew how troublesome those who pledge allegiance to Chaos Daemons could be, so he followed the Farseer's warning and drew his sidearm, a high-frequency vibrating monomolecular short blade!
However, a bizarre scene occurred.
Just a second before Vane-Blunt Firebrand was about to be beheaded by the Aeldari Autarch Raelor, the cult leader suddenly turned his head, his gaze strikingly fixed on Emrys!
Swish—!
The short blade sliced across his neck, easily severing the bone!
Autarch Raelor decapitated the cult leader, and blood spurted out from the headless corpse's cavity like a high-pressure water gun, reaching several meters high!
Thud... The cult leader's head rolled down the uneven steps like a ball, and when it finally stopped, its face was precisely oriented towards Emrys!
Emrys held the binoculars, and he could clearly see that after the cult leader was decapitated, the rolling head's facial muscles were still moving, seemingly due to residual consciousness.
He struggled to force out a smile that was somewhat chilling and extremely eerie, his lips opening and closing silently, mouthing a sentence.
"As you... wish..."
Emrys read the words.
His heart suddenly trembled, and his pupils couldn't help but contract. Sure enough, Vane-Blunt's son was a discarded pawn! It was clear... things were far from over!
This was still a part of the great plan of Tzeentch, the God of Deceit and magic. Although he currently didn't know what conspiracy Tzeentch had prepared for him, he could at least figure out one thing.
That damned Tzeentch was completely fixated on him!
Alright, alright, first he was entangled by the persistent Khorne, and now it's Tzeentch's turn. If this continues, will Nurgle and Slaanesh also be waiting in line to 'favor' him?!
Emperor, Emperor, why are you just watching?!
In Emrys' mind, a small figure seemed to be roaring frantically: "Emperor, I've shed blood for the Imperium! I've rendered service to the Imperium! My ancestors were loyal Aquila banners, so please give me some strength!"
"Lord Emrys! Lord Emrys!"
Suddenly, a hearty voice pulled him back from his 'berserk' fantasy to reality. What greeted his eyes was Vannock's rough, stubbled face, looking at him anxiously: "The xenos are about to retreat, please give the order quickly!"
"What order?"
Emrys, disturbed, glanced at him indifferently.
This sentence almost stunned Vannock, his brain freezing for a few seconds before resuming operation.
Looking at Emrys' slightly cold gaze and his enigmatic expression, he seemed to suddenly 'guess' something, and the words that had just reached his lips were swallowed back down.
"No... no, nothing, Lord Emrys."
Vannock was inwardly horrified but dared not speak the truth.
"Colonel Vannock, it's quite normal for astropathic equipment to be unable to transmit orders in time due to Warp interference, isn't it?" Emrys said with a slight smile, patting his shoulder and saying meaningfully.
"Let me advise you, some things... even if you guess them, don't say them out loud, otherwise I can't guarantee that something unexpected won't happen, what do you say?"
Gulp!
From Emrys' eyes, Vannock seemed to understand something, and he forced a smile: "Yes, you are right, Lord Emrys. It's all thanks to this damned Great Rift... that affected the communication system, and 'accidentally' allowed the xenos to escape."
"Very good, Colonel Vannock."
Emrys said meaningfully: "The deal I promised you, I won't short you a single cent. Pleasant cooperation, Colonel."
"Pleasant cooperation, Lord Emrys."
Vannock bowed his head deeply. For a moment, he suddenly felt how dark the Imperium was, and that he was completely a novice in front of a behemoth like a Rogue Trader Dynasty!
He could now be 100% certain that those suddenly appearing xenos had intricate connections with this heir of the Rogue Trader Dynasty, and even... it was highly probable that they were his private forces!
Otherwise, how could he explain why those xenos deliberately avoided civilian casualties during the battle?
Yes, it must be so!
Vannock became more convinced of his speculation, and a look of fear and reverence appeared in his eyes as he looked at Emrys.
This was the result Emrys wanted.
He didn't need to explain too much; the prestige of the Rogue Trader Dynasty was enough to save him a lot of trouble.
From now on, whether it was Lucienne, or Vannock, or even the entire Agamemnus, they would all be overthinking and speculating... whether today's Aeldari were truly his power.
As a Rogue Trader, with rights specially granted by the Emperor, even appropriate diplomacy with xenos and heretics is within reasonable bounds, as long as it is for the benefit of the Imperium.
Even if an Inquisitor came, without evidence, he still couldn't do anything to him. This was the weight of 'Emrys,' the golden signboard of a merchant dynasty that has lasted for ten thousand years!
Forced overthinking is the most lethal.
Under the name of Emrys, no matter how unreasonable Emrys' actions were, those people would try to fathom what his true intentions were.
Actually, the real answer is very simple.
But often, the more complex people are, the less likely they are to believe that others are truly that simple. This is the charm of overthinking.
The Aeldari's greatest advantage lies in the 'Webway' left behind by the Old Ones!
In short, the 'Webway' is a miraculous project that bypasses the dangers of the Warp and spans all corners of the Milky Way Galaxy!
As long as the 'Webway' exists, the Aeldari can instantly reach any location in the Milky Way Galaxy.
And this great project, which can be called a miracle, naturally could not have been built by the Aeldari; its true creators were the Old Ones from ancient times.
However, tragically, after the brutal 'War in Heaven' ended, the Old Ones were ultimately defeated and annihilated by the combined forces of the Necrons, C'tan, and Enslavers. The 'Webway,' this miraculous project, was naturally inherited by the 'eldest son,' the Aeldari. Even so, the Aeldari could not fully comprehend the principles of this mysterious Warp Webway.
In other words, the Aeldari only possessed the right to use the Webway, but they did not know the principles of this miraculous project.
But that did not prevent the Aeldari from rapidly developing by relying on the Webway, until the entire race completely lost control, giving birth to Slaanesh in the Warp amidst endless revelry.
The Aeldari of Craftworld Saim-Hann also control the Webway; they used this miraculous project to quickly reach Vigilus from their Craftworld.
The assassination is over; the target's death is confirmed.
Autarch Raelor looked back at the surrounding, watchful Stormtroopers and immediately became more vigilant.
In the eyes of the Imperium of Man, once the heretics were eliminated, it was the turn of the xenos!
The atmosphere became tense; the two sides who had cooperated a second ago now seemed ready to draw swords and hack at each other at the slightest disagreement.
Such a situation is, in fact, all too common in the Warhammer Universe. The Imperium never conceals its hostility towards xenos; from top to bottom, they basically adhere to the idea that if they can kill you, they will never negotiate, and even if they can negotiate, they will find an opportunity to kill you later.
The two groups stared at each other, but no one dared to make the first move.
The Aeldari side was trying to maintain restraint because of the Farseer's prophecy, especially to avoid provoking conflict.
However, the Tempestus Scions Regiment was not acting due to any prophecy; it was purely because there was no command from communications, and Vannock seemed to be dead.
Looking at the Human forces who had not moved for a long time, Autarch Raelor gradually understood.
If not now, when will he run?
"Withdraw!"
With a command from Raelor, he summoned an Aeldari aircraft.
Several Aeldari warriors boarded the flat skiff, and then, openly, under the gaze of the Antrellian Lions Regiment, they transformed into a streak of light and disappeared into the sky.
"Major, are we just going to watch them leave?" The Stormtrooper's adjutant asked, feeling aggrieved, "It's still not too late to stop those damned xenos!"
"Stop them? With what? Who dares to stop them?"
The Commander of the Stormtroopers spat a thick wad of phlegm onto the ground, veins throbbing on his forehead, and roared through gritted teeth, "Did an Ogryn eat your brain? The order we received was to cease fire. If we attack without a new order, who will bear the consequences?!"
Three questions in a row stunned the adjutant next to him.
"Don't you understand yet?" The Commander turned to look at the tall building and sneered, "No order... is already an order."
He had been requesting an attack order ten minutes ago.
But what was the reply he received? Wait for a new order. Before the order is given, maintain restraint and do not attack without authorization.
Bah!
Clearly, that damned noble was colluding with the xenos!
As a loyal Stormtrooper Commander, this was nothing short of a humiliation, but as a soldier, he did not need to consider the entire regiment. No order... meant no attack!
The adjutant was still unwilling, looking resentfully at the distant Aeldari, clenching his fists: "Bah, to hell with them, those damned Imperial maggots!"
Well, it's a pity Emrys couldn't hear that, otherwise he might be a little surprised to have suddenly earned the title of 'maggot'.
He never expected that one day he, a scavenger from the underhive, would transform into an Imperial maggot in someone else's mouth. Does this count as another form of... the dragon-slaying youth becoming a dragon?
...
Meanwhile, Autarch Raelor led the Aeldari warriors and quickly arrived at the designated evacuation point, where the Spiritseer and the remaining assault team members had long been waiting.
Qelanaris looked at them, her gaze sweeping over each in turn, then she revealed a relieved smile: "Excellent, you have successfully completed this mission and upheld the honor of our ancestors!"
In the eyes of the Craftworld Aeldari, ancestors are the most important; without the protection of their ancestors, their souls would fall into Slaanesh's palace and suffer eternal torment!
Autarch Raelor stood with his weapon, and said in a deep voice: "Mission accomplished, target confirmed dead, all personnel... no casualties!"
"Well done, Raelor."
Qelanaris held her staff, opened the 'Webway,' and said to her kin: "Everyone can return to the Craftworld now, Raelor... you stay for a while." Although he didn't quite understand, Raelor still carried out the order, allowing the remaining assault team members to all enter the 'Webway' and return to report to the great Farseer, Anviel Khetok.
Only after the Aeldari warriors had all entered the Webway did Qelanaris suddenly speak: "Human friend, you can come out now."
Someone?!
Raelor's pupils constricted slightly. Following the Spiritseer's gaze, he saw a tall figure, a muscular man resembling a Space Marine, emerge from the shadow.
But with just one glance, Raelor saw through the deception.
The other party... was not a living creature at all, but an exquisitely constructed artificial product. No wonder he hadn't detected any aura just now.
Moreover, he wasn't wearing power armor, nor did he have a black carapace implanted. The extent of biological modification was extremely low. He was somewhat interesting at first glance, but upon closer inspection, he was merely passable, just barely suitable as an 'ornamental toy'.
It couldn't be blamed that the Aeldari had high standards.
After all, they were the eldest sons of the Old Ones. Even though they are now in decline, their residual technological level is something the Imperium cannot even begin to catch up to.
Autarch Raelor frowned slightly, quietly gripping his power spear. Should he detect any abnormality from the other party, he would, at the first opportunity, sever that thing's head!
"Esteemed Spiritseer, Lady Qelanaris, my Master... Merlin Emrys, extends his sincere gratitude to you." Uther expressed his goodwill with standard etiquette.
"I am pleased that among the Imperium of Man, there are also those who can distinguish right from wrong. Your Master's decision today is enough to become a wedge that will influence the future destiny of our two races!"
Spiritseer Qelanaris also nodded in acknowledgement. If it hadn't been for that young man today, their assault team would probably have been completely wiped out by those fanatics!
After all, no matter how strong the Aeldari's combat power, they couldn't withstand sheer numbers!
Qelanaris was also relieved that the Imperium had a reasonable person to avoid a large-scale conflict between the two sides; otherwise, if things really escalated, he wouldn't know how to explain it!
After exchanging pleasantries, it was time for the main topic.
"Your Master sent you to find us, it shouldn't just be to say thank you, right?"
Qelanaris was extremely astute and had long seen through the other party's ulterior motives, but based on their mutual understanding, he was willing to listen to what the young Human had to say.
Uther said meticulously: "My Master, Mister Emrys, wishes to represent the Emrys Rogue Trader Dynasty and forge a sincere and equal friendship with the Aeldari of Craftworld Saim-Hann!"
Autarch Raelor scoffed, a hint of disdain in his eyes. They were willing to negotiate peacefully with Humans, but the prerequisite was... someone of high status.
What kind of thing was a Rogue Trader Dynasty?
Spiritseer Qelanaris smiled slightly, maintaining the most basic etiquette: "Please tell your Master that we will remember his kindness."
This statement was tantamount to a veiled refusal.
However, Uther seemed to have been prepared. He took out a parchment scroll, carefully placed it nearby, his gaze unwavering, and said calmly: "My Master said to give this parchment scroll to your Farseer, Lord Anviel Khetok. He will know how to choose."
Spiritseer Qelanaris frowned slightly, her gaze falling on the parchment scroll: "May I see the contents?"
"As you wish, Lady Qelanaris."
Uther paused for half a second, then said meaningfully: "But my Master said that the contents of this parchment scroll, besides you... can only be viewed by the Farseer. Otherwise, he will not bear any consequences caused."
The more he spoke, the more ominous it sounded... Qelanaris felt uncertain. With a flick of his finger, he telekinetically drew the parchment scroll into his palm. Out of caution, he avoided Raelor's gaze and quietly opened the parchment scroll.
There were only a few lines of text inside.
But it was these few lines of text that made Spiritseer Qelanaris display a look of utter shock, so much so that the hand holding the parchment scroll trembled violently.
He couldn't help but gasp, suppressing his violently pounding heart, and sharply demanded: "Is what your master... said all true?!"
Uther was expressionless and shook his head: "I'm very sorry, Lady Qelanaris, I do not know what my Master wrote in the parchment scroll, but my master... never lies."
Autarch Raelor, standing nearby, had his curiosity piqued. What exactly was written in the parchment scroll that could shock the Spiritseer so much?
Qelanaris' expression was extremely solemn. He carefully tucked the parchment scroll close to him, then completely changed his attitude: "Please convey to your Master for me that I must report this matter to the Farseer. I eagerly await... the day when we can forge a friendship with Lord Emrys, and sincerely hope that the glory of Saim-Hann will always accompany the name of Emrys!"
Then, without waiting for Raelor to ask, Qelanaris, as if something extremely urgent had arisen, hurriedly pulled him into the Webway!
A brilliant, mysterious gate, radiating immense light, flowed with the power from the Warp. The surging, violent energies were bound by the ancient Old One technology, forming a stable teleportation device.
And this great gate was what was known as… the 'Webway'!
Since the Aeldari's disintegration and the horrific catastrophe they endured, they had separated. Saim-Hann was one of these factions, and the 'Craftworld' they spoke of was essentially a world-shattering battleship constructed from Wraithbone!
They sailed far from worlds, far from the light of stars, like brilliant jewels scattered on black velvet silk, emitting a glowing blue light in the depths of the dark universe. The radiance from countless domes pierced through the layers of darkness in vast space.
The true home of the Aeldari had long been completely lost.
Now, these lonely battleships, anchored and drifting in the boundless void, were the last home of the Aeldari — the Craftworld!
The Aeldari warriors on missions returned one by one from the Webway. Loud hymns, ancient and desolate voices, celebrated their people, the brave clan warriors, returning victoriously!
However, among the returning crowd, the Soul Farseer and the War Farseer were conspicuously absent. The 'Bishop' responsible for the welcome immediately felt his heart stop for a few seconds.
Could something have happened?!
But after learning the truth from the Aeldari warriors, the Bishop quickly breathed a sigh of relief and arranged for them to rest.
Not long after, the Bishop saw the Webway glow again, and Qelanaris, dragging Ryrol, ran out from it.
"Welcome back, my brother, Qelanaris…"
The Bishop, beaming, was about to go up and embrace him, but Qelanaris deftly dodged him with an elegant move.
"???"
The Bishop's face darkened.
"Lord Bishop, please forgive my rudeness." Qelanaris' tone was urgent. He ripped off his helmet, revealing his extremely anxious face, and firmly gripped the Bishop's shoulders with both hands: "Please tell me, where is the Farseer?"
"In… in the webway…"
The Bishop replied subconsciously, looking bewildered.
"My apologies, lord Bishop. I will apologize to you when I return." Having learned the Farseer's location, Qelanaris didn't say another word and sprinted towards the 'Soul Circuit'.
In the blink of an eye, he vanished.
Leaving the Bishop disheveled in the wind, he paused, then turned to the equally stunned Ryrol: "What on earth is wrong with him?"
"I don't know."
Ryrol shook his head like a rattle-drum and spread his hands: "When we were returning, a human gave him a parchment. After reading its contents, he dragged me in a mad dash through the Webway, almost taking a wrong turn."
Mentioning this, Ryrol felt a thrill of danger.
He had never known that this Farseer's 'speeding' skills could be so formidable. Several times they nearly veered off course. Fortunately, nothing went wrong in the end, otherwise… if they had taken a wrong path, Heaven knew where they would have been thrown.
"That urgent?"
The Bishop stroked his chin, full of doubt, but then his expression darkened: "Could it be that the prophecy on Vigilus is about to bring about another major event?"
One wave had not settled before another rose.
The Bishop couldn't help but start worrying about Vigilus and the future of the Aeldari, silently praying that nothing else would happen… The Soul Circuit, apart from the 'Webway,' was the most important building for the Aeldari. It preserved the souls of every Aeldari after death, preventing them from being devoured by Slaanesh.
The Soul Circuit, forged from Wraithbone, was like a lighthouse illuminating the dark night sky, shining brightly. Those who entered it seemed to hear the echoes of their ancestors' souls. Qelanaris tidied his attire and solemnly stepped into the 'Soul Circuit.' Before the Spirit Altar, where the spirit stones were kept, he met the Farseer, Anviel Kethok!
The Farseer wore a crystal-like helmet, exquisite armor, and a luxurious robe as an outer garment, holding the Staff of Saim-Hann, exuding an air of profound mystery.
In the Aeldari social system, 'Seers' were extremely special beings. They often possessed powerful psychic abilities and outstanding precognitive talents!
The existence of a Farseer helped the Craftworld they resided in overcome future crises time and again, which is why they were revered and worshipped by every Aeldari.
Just like this time, the Vigilus crisis.
It was Farseer Anviel Kethok who had foreseen a glimpse of the future: Vigilus would have a profound impact on the destiny of the Aeldari, even leading to irreversible disaster!
Respect showed in Qelanaris' eyes. He bowed his head to show reverence: "Esteemed Farseer Anviel, I have returned from Vigilus and brought you something…"
He had intended to use 'gift' to describe the parchment, but upon reflection, the contents were uncertain whether they brought fortune or misfortune, so he temporarily changed his wording.
Farseer Anviel Kethok turned around. Although he wore a wraith-like helmet, Qelanaris could still feel a gaze falling upon him: "You have fulfilled your mission well. I am proud of you. You and Ryrol… have saved the future of the Aeldari. You are Heroes."
To be highly praised by a 'Farseer' thrilled even Qelanaris, but he quickly thought of the parchment, whose contents had profoundly shaken him. So he spoke again: "Esteemed Farseer Anviel, as I was about to leave Vigilus, a human who had helped us specifically sent a parchment, saying it must be given to you."
"Good."
Anviel nodded slightly.
Qelanaris carefully handed over the parchment, then meticulously observed the Farseer's reaction.
However, somewhat unexpectedly, after reading the contents of the parchment, Farseer Anviel showed no unusual reaction, merely tucking the parchment into his robes.
Anviel's tone remained indifferent, as if he were not interested in the contents: "Did you read what was on it?"
"I… I did…"
Qelanaris took a deep breath and nodded: "But the contents are truly…"
"Then what do you think… is it true or false?"
Anviel asked calmly.
"I… I don't know, but…" Qelanaris opened his mouth, a bitter expression on his face: "Esteemed Farseer, reason tells me that human is lying, but… but I can't help but wonder, what if… it's true?"
Yes, what if?
This was the reason Qelanaris, knowing he was very likely being deceived, still couldn't help but hold onto hope.
"Do you know, Qelanaris?"
Anviel sighed softly, then turned to look at the spirit stones, his voice filled with complex emotions, and whispered: "Actually, I already knew before you arrived."
"What?!"
Qelanaris showed a shocked expression, but quickly reconsidered and grasped the key point: "You mean, you foresaw… that human?"
"No, not I."
Anviel, holding his divine staff, sighed: "It was the High Farseer… Esteemed Eldrad Ulthran. He foresaw that the destinies of the Aeldari and humanity are now closely intertwined by one person. Our choices now will profoundly affect the future of the entire Milky Way Galaxy."