Leisure time is always fleeting. Zeke barely had a moment to catch his breath before sudden news interrupted his rest.
Archmagos Cawl was leaving Cadia.
Cawl's stop on Cadia to study the Blackstone had only ever been a detour. Now that his task was complete, he was naturally preparing to depart for his true objective: delivering the Armor of Fate to Roboute Guilliman and saving the Primarch.
Zeke secured the Harlequin. She showed no intention of struggling, allowing him to bind her without resistance.
Dragging her along, Zeke headed to the conference room of Kasr Kraf to intercept Archmagos Cawl. The Tech-Priest was already exchanging final farewells with Creed, preparing to board his ship, the Iron Wraith, and depart that very afternoon.
"Wait a moment, Archmagos Cawl. Abaddon has fled, not died. His flagship, the Vengeful Spirit, is still watching with hungry eyes."
The era of the Primarchs was over; Abaddon would certainly not allow Cawl to deliver the Armor of Fate to Macragge without interference.
"I heard from Castellan Creed about your victory at the Blackstone Fortress. I fear Abaddon has no energy left to spare right now," Cawl analyzed. "The Despoiler is currently licking his wounds. Furthermore, the Phalanx is keeping watch in space. I have confidence in the Iron Wraith."
"I know a shortcut that can get us to Macragge faster."
"What shortcut?"
"A Webway." Zeke pulled the Harlequin in front of Cawl.
Cawl eyed the prisoner warily. "Are you certain we can trust this Eldar?"
"Magos Cawl, Shadowseer Sylandri mentioned your name." The familiar name fell from the Harlequin's lips.
Cawl had met that Veilwalker in secret; it was under her guidance that he had come to realize the importance of Blackstone. He lowered his guard slightly and looked at Zeke.
"You can trust her," Zeke vouched.
"Very well." Cawl decided to listen to Zeke's advice and visit the frozen planet first.
He had already delayed quite a bit on Cadia; implementing the agreement as soon as possible was, of course, for the best.
Before departing, Zeke pulled Creed aside.
Saving Cadia would trigger a series of unforeseen chain reactions. One that Zeke was aware of involved Baal, the homeworld of the Blood Angels, which was currently suffering a fierce attack from the Tyranids.
Originally, if Cadia had fallen, the Eye of Terror would have expanded, and the spilling Warp energy would have decimated the Tyranid Hive Fleet or slowed it significantly. Now that Zeke had saved Cadia, the Warp storms wouldn't come, and the situation on Baal would likely become even more dire.
Zeke asked Creed to send a fleet equipped with a Nether Portal to rush to Baal's aid as quickly as possible.
Creed readily accepted the request. "Thank you again for everything you have done for Cadia."
Zeke smiled. It wasn't as if he wouldn't be back; through the Nether Portal, he could return to Cadia at any time.
"I may need Cadia's strength in Ultramar."
"Of course. We are ready at any time."
–
Zeke, escorting the Harlequin, boarded the transport to the Iron Wraith. He wasn't the only passenger; several familiar faces had gathered.
Saint Celestine claimed the Emperor guided her here.
Marshal Amalrich of the Black Templars sat silently in the corner.
Cerantes of the Ultramarines was present as well—after being released during the battle, Trazyn hadn't managed to reclaim him.
Finally, Inquisitor Greyfax—another of Trazyn's "collectibles" released to fight Chaos. She didn't give anyone on the ship a friendly look, especially Saint Celestine.
"I must interrogate her, drag her before a tribunal, and expose her true colors."
As Zeke walked past, he overheard her muttering. It was nothing new.
Leaving the cabin filled with the smell of gunpowder and tension, Zeke went forward to find Cawl.
The Archmagos stood on the main command bridge. Behind him, inside a massive auto-reliquary, sat the cargo he was transporting: the Armor of Fate.
Zeke took a step toward the auto-reliquary. Instantly, the eyes of everyone on the bridge shifted toward him.
Zeke withdrew his foot, and the tension dissipated.
If you asked Zeke, this Armor of Fate wasn't necessarily better than his own Totem of Undying. Once Roboute Guilliman put on the Armor of Fate, he wouldn't be able to take it off easily without dying again. Unlike the Totem—once used, it was a one-time cure-all.
That Armor of Fate... rather than giving it to Guilliman, it would be better to let me study it. It could definitely provide a lot of Defense Points.
Zeke made his own little calculations, thinking about how to get his hands on the armor.
The journey of the Iron Wraith was fairly smooth. A few Chaos strike cruisers attempted to intercept them but were all blocked by the escort frigates Creed had sent.
In half a day's time, the group arrived at the snow-covered world of Klaisus.
–
Upon landing on the planet, Zeke took a moment to use a pickaxe with the Silk Touch enchantment to harvest a large amount of Packed Ice. Klaisus was a frozen world where blizzards raged all year round—perfect for restocking.
The group trudged through the ice and snow, following the Harlequin Zeke was escorting, climbing toward the peak of the snowy mountain.
"Heretic, you had best not leave my sight," Greyfax snarled from behind the Living Saint.
"The Emperor will guide our way." Celestine looked at the snowy peak, climbing with piety, ignoring the threat.
Zeke listened to their bickering and became more worried about the prospects of this journey.
His team was strong—absurdly so—but there were just too many paranoid individuals. They clearly had a common goal, yet they still had to guard against each other. Zeke sighed.
At the peak of the snowy mountain, an ancient xenos structure emitted a pulse of light, attracting everyone's attention.
The light grew brighter, forming a circular passage. A group of elegant warriors clad in armor rushed out from the gate.
Leading them was a woman in long robes with a regal bearing—Yvraine.
If one were accustomed to Eldar aesthetics, she was absolutely a beauty. To her right stood a warrior in crimson armor, the Visarch.
Greyfax immediately raised her weapon, staring ruthlessly at the xenos.
Yvraine, the leader of the Ynnari, looked at the scene before her with visible confusion.
According to the Farseer, there should have been a desperate convoy chased by the Despoiler, carrying a vitally important cargo. Her Ynnari forces were supposed to intervene and save this army at their moment of life and death.
But...
Yvraine looked behind them. Let alone the Despoiler, she didn't even see a single Chaos Cultist.
She looked at the Inquisitor whose eyes were filled with hate, then at the stiff-faced Magos Cawl, and finally at the Harlequin being held captive by Zeke.
In the eyes of that Harlequin, Yvraine saw an expression long lost to the Eldar—an expression named Hope.
Yvraine calmed her mind and was about to speak, but Zeke beat her to it.
"I, Zeke Mason, have come to save Father of the Ultramarines."
After speaking, he glanced back at his team.
Seriously, why do these people hesitate at every critical moment? I always have to do everything myself.