What would Kossolax do?
Run away!
Run!!!!
The great Regent Kossolax once said,
It's not about not being angry, but about further implementing anger management planning; it's about dynamic anger, flexible anger.
Fully utilize the combat effectiveness of the Butcher's Nails to ensure the stable conduct of daily battles, laying a solid emotional foundation for future crucial moments of anger.
It's slow anger, gradual anger, planned anger, adjustable anger, high-quality anger—anger that doesn't become a runaway horse.
Actively establish reasonable anger safety thresholds and stop-loss lines to ensure anger is stable and controllable, avoiding a passive war due to anger depletion.
Therefore, running is not cowardice; running is not fear of battle. Running is the implementation of Regent Kossolax's spirit, and it is a collective effort to maintain the stable and sustainable development of the World Eaters Legion.
Zandrekh looked a little bewildered as the World Eaters Berserkers, who had just been roaring in anger, vanished without a trace.
Zandrekh was not the only one witnessing this scene with a sense of helplessness.
In the Empyrean, upon the Brass Throne, Blood God Khorne gritted his teeth as he watched the situation in the Nephilim Sector.
The situation in the Nephilim Sector was secretly orchestrated by Tzeentch and him.
But they were not trying to cause trouble for Alexander, or hinder him from reclaiming the Necron.
On the contrary, they were secretly and constantly adjusting the direction of the war, manipulating the flow of the Warp, allowing humanity to gain continuous advantages in their battles against the Necron, ultimately leading the Necron to side with Alexander and deliver the technology Tzeentch had designed into Alexander's hands.
To achieve this goal, the Blood God had always been monitoring the direction of the war in the Nephilim Sector, and thus had been watching the World Eaters.
Angron, before his near-death experience, realized his Warp nature and, using his own power, inflicted an intractable influence on all World Eaters within Saint Doraemon's Pocket Dimension.
Every World Eater, when their Butcher's Nails reached a certain point, nearing complete control by the Butcher's Nails, would resonate mentally with Kossolax.
They would be influenced by Kossolax's mind, instinctively learning from Kossolax in their consciousness and acting according to Kossolax's thinking.
This led to them directly choosing to flee and run away whenever they were about to be consumed by the Butcher's Nails' fury.
The Blood God was not without means to corrupt all the World Eaters back; most of the World Eaters' corruption had not even been removed.
As long as the Blood God willed it, these World Eaters would once again become his warriors.
But do they deserve it now??
The Blood God considered himself a tolerant deity; he could accept lunatics, accept fools, accept idiots, and even accept the weak.
But what does it mean to flee when angry to a certain extent?
Where is your anger? Where is your courage? Where is your fighting spirit?
Even if it only took a single thought to corrupt them back, the Blood God was unwilling to do so. He believed that the current World Eaters were unworthy. The thought of bestowing his blessings upon these cowardly, constantly fleeing scoundrels made the Blood God sick, feeling that his blessings were no longer clean.
Of course, the problem with the World Eaters was not unsolvable.
They just needed to kill Kossolax.
However, before Angron's demise, he had also left an instruction deep within Kossolax's heart, using his abilities.
That is, Kossolax must use all his wisdom to protect his own life.
The Blood God had launched seven attacks on Kossolax, each time deploying multiple Greater daemons, but Kossolax always managed to escape.
Ultimately, to use his already scarce pawns for his and Tzeentch's plan, he had no choice but to temporarily spare Kossolax.
Once his and Tzeentch's plan succeeded, when the void poured out, the Blackstone reversed, and the Warp rampaged through the real universe, he would settle accounts with Kossolax.
Zandrekh watched, bewildered and confused, as the World Eaters' forces retreated almost without hesitation.
They used something akin to a Monolith Gate, disappearing from the Satire System in the blink of an eye, leaving no trace.
This left Zandrekh feeling like he was punching cotton.
He sat somewhat bored on his throne, giving the Tech-priests the order to activate the inertialess drive.
But he had no intention of going to the Magos System to reinforce Stormlord Imotekh's forces.
The enemy now also had a commander no less capable than the Stormlord, who realized that the offensives in both the Magos and Satire Systems were merely feints, traps designed to draw their attention, slaughterhouses specifically used to deplete their strength.
The Stormlord's original intention was to trick the enemy into desperately defending these two systems, wasting their strength there.
But he did not expect the enemy to see through the Stormlord's stratagem.
The inertialess drive activated, and the stars became streaks as they passed by the Necron ship.
The boundless, cold void was traversed in a blink of an eye, and Zandrekh's flagship slowly docked in an inconspicuous star system within the Pariah Nexus.
This star system was solitary, with only one star and some scattered asteroids floating, and no true planets existed.
The Necron had transformed this star system, extracting the star's energy to maintain the megastructure they had built.
That was a gate, many times larger than Zandrekh's gate, with cold, hard angles intertwined by metal lines formed from ancient living metal, creating a series of optical illusions at first glance, and at the center of the framework outlined by these metals, reality and the aether were sliced into fragments, with a dull, mysterious light rippling within.
That was the Monolith Gate, one of the superluminal travel technologies mastered by the Necron, whose principle was the 'Webway' created by the Old Ones.
In the last few years before the end of the War in Heaven, the C'tan, the Burning One, Nyadra'zatha, fulfilled his grand ambition.
This C'tan, composed of unbridled and chaotic fire, always longed to burn everything in the world with his flames, even desiring to burn realms beyond the material world.
He ultimately accomplished this great feat, burning through the barrier between reality and the Webway with his flames, and revealed it to the Necron.
The technology the Necron developed from this was the Monolith Gate.
The Monolith Gate could forcibly burn a hole in the Webway, allowing the Necron to enter the Webway for superluminal travel.
But the Necron were invaders after all; the Webway itself would try to repair the entrances they burned, and try to seal off damaged parts. The Necron had to pass through quickly to avoid being trapped by the Webway itself.
Today's Monolith Gates were no longer as easy to use as they once were. After the Old Ones' demise, the Aeldari no longer had the ability to maintain the Webway; it became increasingly damaged, broken, and corrupted, and all the Aeldari could do was constantly seal, isolate, and abandon parts of the Webway.
The Webway that the Necron could now access was only a few strands of its former self. But the Silent King's wisdom still held some secret Webway passages.
The Monolith Gate before Zandrekh now connected to one of these passages.
Through this Webway, the Stormlord's forces could directly bypass the layer of Warp storms encircling the Pariah Nexus and enter the region controlled by the Silent King.
From within the Monolith Gate, the Stormlord's ship, the Inevitable Conquest, emerged from the flickering light, with his fleet following close behind.
Zandrekh's figure flickered slightly, stepping into a Pocket Dimension, and using phase-shifting technology, directly arrived on the Stormlord's flagship.
The Stormlord could, of course, have prevented Zandrekh's seemingly presumptuous act, but he did not.
Zandrekh had once served the Stormlord as a Crowned General, responsible for helping the Stormlord deal with the Orks.
The Stormlord was a person skilled at analyzing everything with logical thinking, but the Orks were not so logical, so he needed Zandrekh, and Zandrekh performed his duties very well.
Even when Zandrekh later chose to side with the Silent King, their friendship remained unaffected, and they continued to respect each other.
"Old madman, how are things in Satire and Magos?" The Stormlord stood before a star map, looking up at the Imperium of Man's troop movements on the map, his eyes, burning with fluorescent green flames, seemed to want to devour the entire sector.
He did not turn his head, asking Zandrekh with his back to him.
"Your feint was discovered. They didn't expend much strength on those two systems; instead, my and your fleets suffered some damage."
"There is also an excellent commander among the enemy ranks." A slight smile seemed to appear on the Stormlord's lips.
He stared intently at the map of the Pariah Nexus, as if trying to understand the human commander's thinking, to understand the human commander's mind.
The Stormlord had recently learned much about human history, and was intimately familiar with famous human commanders.
"Roboute Guilliman?"
The Stormlord laughed aloud:
"Zandrekh, I'm already eager for more engagements with him."
"My forces will complete their assembly within half an hour. I hope my forces can be stationed in the following star systems; this is very important for my upcoming strategic deployment."
Saying this, the Stormlord extended his finger, marking several star systems on the star map.
Zandrekh, however, did not look at the star map, but rather at Stormlord Imotekh.
"No," he said.
"Hmm?" Imotekh let out a questioning hum.
"The Silent King does not allow your forces to be directly stationed in his territory, nor does he allow you to occupy specific star systems," Zandrekh calmly conveyed Imotekh's decree.
"What does he mean by this! He was the one who asked me to come!" Imotekh's tone suddenly rose.
"But the Silent King suspects your loyalty. He believes that allowing you to establish strongholds in his territory would only bring danger," Zandrekh slowly shook his head.
"Spawn of the Deceiver! Spawn of the Deceiver!"
Imotekh said through gritted teeth:
"I truly envy Roboute Guilliman right now!"
"Why can't the Silent King be like the Emperor, sit on his Blackstone Throne, and then be paralyzed on it?"
"Perhaps I should learn from the human Warmaster and help our dear Silent King??"
Facing Imotekh's scolding, Zandrekh's expression remained unchanged. He merely said in a gentle, elder-like tone, "With the Tomb Gate in existence, your territory and the Silent King's territory are practically connected at zero distance. Having no garrison doesn't affect your actions."
"But it affects my strategic deployment," Imotekh said with a gloomy expression.
He had a premonition that he was about to start dancing the war dance while wearing shackles.
Zandrekh, however, remained impassive and said steadily, "I believe in your talent, and so does the Silent King."
"I don't believe him!" Stormlord Imotekh said, frustrated.
But he also understood that the Silent King was a very persistent person; his actions often depended on the first suggestion he heard. No matter how Imotekh protested, he probably couldn't change his mind.
He could only endure the shackles set by the Silent King and display his war talent within the cage.
"He wouldn't even refuse to lend me a path, would he?!" Imotekh roared, questioning.
At the same time, he stretched out a finger and drew a new line on the star map. This line symbolized Imotekh's planned marching route.
His troops would follow this route, passing through the Sindu System in the core of the Nephilim Sector, and head directly to the Volian-Vash System.
"No," Zandrekh said, shaking his head and rejecting Imotekh's proposal after only a glance.
"This isn't allowed either??" Imotekh asked, raising his voice.
Zandrekh still shook his head firmly.
"The Sindu System concerns the entire Anti-Empyrean stance and has been designated a restricted area by the Silent King. No one is allowed to enter it without permission."
"Concerns the entire Anti-Empyrean stance?" Imotekh's voice suddenly became a little more intrigued.
"Yes, in fact, it's not just the entire Anti-Empyrean stance. According to His Majesty the Silent King, the World Engine within the Sindu System even concerns the future and hope of the entire Necron race."
The World Engine concerns the future and hope of the entire Necron race.
In Imotekh's hollow eye sockets, the ghostly green flames flickered for a few moments.
"Imotekh, I must warn you, the Sindu System will be guarded by my army. I will not allow anyone to enter."
Zandrekh said with a serious expression:
"Do not attempt to invade the Sindu System. I will never let you pass."
"Hmm? Hmm!" The Stormlord showed a subtle expression, staring at Zandrekh and letting out several soft hums.
"Do you understand?"
"You absolutely cannot suddenly invade the Sindu System, okay?"
"Even if you suddenly invade the Sindu System, I will resist with all my might, okay?"
"I will absolutely not let you in, okay?"
Zandrekh feigned seriousness, but his tone carried a hint of humor.
Imotekh stared at Zandrekh, a smile involuntarily appearing on his metallic face.
"I understand, I understand, I will bypass the Sindu System!"
Imotekh nodded repeatedly:
"I swear by the Silent King's entire family, if I lie to you, the Silent King's entire family are children of deceit."
"What a cruel oath! I believe you, Imotekh!" Zandrekh nodded seriously, patted Imotekh's shoulder, and a smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
"..You old lunatic," Imotekh also smiled.
"The valiant World Eaters Regent, Kossolax, salutes all Primarchs!"
"Under the wise judgment of the great World Eaters Regent, our forces withdrew from the Satire System at a critical moment, without expending a single extra ounce of strength, preserving our fleet."
"And as expected, the attack on the Satire System was entirely a feint. After our fleet maneuvered, the Necron forces indeed retreated, giving up the Satire System for free."
"The Conqueror stands above the star of Satire."
As Fulgrim read, he couldn't help but laugh out loud.
This was a strategic report from Satire.
The World Eaters were currently divided into ten warbands. They had just received over ten such strategic reports in one go, all describing the Battle of Satire by the lords of various warbands.
In their descriptions, the World Eaters Regent, Kossolax, displayed extremely strong command abilities during the Battle of Satire, discerning the Necron feint with minimal losses and easily capturing the Satire System through flexible maneuvering.
This was also a difference between the current World Eaters and their past selves. The World Eaters now had an extreme tendency towards idol worship.
Whenever a World Eater was controlled by the Butcher's Nails, at their most fragile psychological moment, just before succumbing to madness, Kossolax's image would automatically appear, guiding them back to clarity and reason like a sun. Over time, Kossolax became something akin to a religion among the World Eaters.
"This is Captain Sarine's report."
"The Conqueror approached the Necron General Zandrekh the Crowned's flagship extremely closely, even launching a boarding action against it."
"But Kossolax, fearing that the Conqueror's deep penetration into enemy lines would threaten his personal safety, suddenly issued a retreat order."
"However, after warping to a nearby system, Kossolax felt it was too shameful to retreat like that, so he led the fleet back to Satire."
"As a result, Zandrekh's forces had already withdrawn from Satire, and the Stormlord's feinting forces had not yet managed to enter Satire from Magos."
"He inexplicably seized this brief window, occupied the Satire System, and blocked the Stormlord's feinting forces."
Guilliman handed Captain Sarine's battle report to Fulgrim.
Fulgrim was speechless.
This was a bit too coincidental, perfectly timed to the brief gap between Zandrekh's withdrawal and the Stormlord's forces filling in.
"This is the effect of the Warp, the World Eaters' worship of Kossolax acting upon him. This worship is so powerful and clear that because the World Eaters believe Kossolax can make the correct judgment, Kossolax genuinely makes the correct judgment," Sanguinius explained softly.
Angron truly pulled off a big one before he left.
"What kind of red-skinned Orks?" Fulgrim couldn't help but shake his head repeatedly.
Then, Fulgrim looked at Guilliman and asked softly, "How did you determine that the attacks on Magos and Satire were feints?"
"Firstly, there was some indirect evidence derived through logic."
"I heard that Imotekh is one of the most logical commanders among the Necrons, skilled at using various types of feints and surprise attacks to deceive opponents. If that's the case, then the attacks on Magos and Satire were perhaps a bit too... straightforward."
"Secondly, before the war broke out, I also paid attention to the military value of Magos and Satire. I deliberately weakened the defensive forces of these two systems, hoping to lure the Necrons into them, and then rely on the extremely high mobility provided by the Any Gate to encircle the Necrons."
"But the Stormlord's forces progressed slowly, never swallowing Magos in one go, as if waiting for me to send in reinforcements."
"Finally, to my knowledge, the Necrons possess a technology called the Tomb Gate. This technology allows them to enter parts of the Webway and use it for faster-than-light travel."
"The Silent King's accumulation is unfathomable; it's entirely possible he has mastered a Webway connection that links the inside and outside of the Nephilim Sector."
Fulgrim listened to Guilliman's well-reasoned analysis, nodding repeatedly, but at the same time, he couldn't help but ask curiously, "These are all indirect evidence. What about direct evidence?"
"The direct evidence is that Alexander confirmed it was indeed the case," Guilliman said with a smile.
Fulgrim was stunned for a moment, then nodded, "That is indeed very direct and very reliable."
Guilliman chuckled a few times, then raised his head again to look at the star map, at the stars.
The Lord of Ultramarines pondered for a moment, then looked at Fulgrim.
"You said you wanted to take on some responsibility, didn't you?" Guilliman asked.
"I am also a loyal son of the Father. I naturally bear responsibility for my Father's Imperium and His people," Fulgrim said, nodding slightly, his tone almost humble.
"Good, I'll give you this opportunity."
Guilliman's expression became serious, and his finger pointed at the star map:
"Fulgrim, take note, I am making the following deployment adjustments."
"The Caleides Battle Group, with its First and Second Sub-Battle Groups plus ten Deathwatch Kill Teams, will reinforce the Magos and Satire defense lines with the World Eaters."
"Ultramarines First and Second Companies, three companies of the Ultramarines Vanguard Chapter, three companies of the Roaring Griffins Chapter, two companies of the Iron Snakes Chapter, two companies of the Nova Warriors Chapter, two companies of the Reborn Chapter, one company of the Silver Skulls Chapter, a total of thirteen companies plus the Ultramarines Librarians Team, will protect the Volian-Vash System."
"Blood Angels First, Second, and Third Companies, Tomb Guard Chapter First and Second Companies, the entire Crimson Angels Chapter, the entire Radiant Angels Chapter, and the Blood Angels Librarians Team will block Stormlord Imotekh's forces along the Mesmok-Paladis line."
"One Black Templars Expedition fleet, Belisarius Cawl's Ecclesiarchy, the Knightly House Taranis, and the Order of the Sacred Rose Battle Sisters will outflank at the Cherrys System, circling to the Stormlord's flank, awaiting an opportunity."
"Eldar Death Guard and Eldar Harlequin will enter the Webway to monitor the movements of the Stormlord's forces."
"The Phoenix Son Chapter will serve as the general reserve, equipped with Any Gates, ready to support weak points at any time."
As Guilliman deployed, countless light points, horizontal lines, diagonal lines, straight lines, and arrows appeared on the star map, densely weaving into a series of nets, as if an invisible hand was rounding up Stormlord Imotekh.
Not to mention these annotations on the star map, just Guilliman's series of deployments made Solaq's head spin, even making him suspect that Guilliman might be trying to make things difficult for Fulgrim.
"Fulgrim, have you memorized it?"
Guilliman looked at Fulgrim with an almost stern gaze, asking in a low tone:
"Recite it back to me..."
"I remember."
Fulgrim quickly repeated Guilliman's plan, then continued, "But I have some additions. The defenses around Paradis are quite weak. We can have the Flesh Tearers' 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and 4th Companies fill the gaps. They are all battle-hardened and can withstand the pressure."
"I've reviewed the archives; the Cryptek, reinforced with Primaris Space Marines, have also recovered their combat effectiveness. I suggest their entire Battle Group deploy from the Volian-Vash System and shift to the right flank of the Stormlord's forces."
"I heard the Cryptek have extremely bad luck. Perhaps they can lure the Stormlord's forces to shift position."
"This way, the Ultramarines and Blood Angels, in conjunction with the Flesh Tearers and Cryptek, can form a pincer movement to encircle the Stormlord's forces."
"Even if unsuccessful, they can quickly maneuver towards the Silent King's forces, filling gaps in the front line, making it more flexible and efficient."
Fulgrim spoke in a light tone, quickly adding to Guilliman's plan and completing many of its details.
Compared to Guilliman's original plan, Fulgrim's additions were slightly less feasible, but if realized, they would form a perfect encirclement and annihilation of the Stormlord.
This made Guilliman nod with a hint of satisfaction.
"I have to admit, you truly are like our father's son, like my brother," Guilliman praised Fulgrim with a smile.
A smile also flickered across Fulgrim's lips: "I always have been, brother."
"Very good, then it's settled," Guilliman said to Fulgrim while tidying the documents in his hand.
But Fulgrim still had questions and did not intend to end the war council just yet.
He reached out and gently pressed down on the documents Guilliman was tidying, asking, "What about the Cadia 184th Regiment, the Cadian Shock Troopers veteran units, the Battle Sisters led by Lady Reyna, and the Saint Doraemon Battle Group?"
"Also, how will Sanguinius act in this operation? And should we recall Leman Russ and his Space Wolves?"
"They are not in our chain of command," Guilliman looked at Sanguinius, who had been smiling quietly by the side, not speaking much.
"Leman Russ claims he is currently following the Emperor's guidance, appearing where he needs to be."
"As for Sanguinius, I'm afraid Alexander already has arrangements for you, doesn't he?" Guilliman asked Sanguinius.
"Indeed, but I apologize, I cannot share these arrangements with you, to prevent anything from happening that might not align with them," Sanguinius said softly.
Guilliman nodded as if he had expected this, and did not press the issue further.
Fulgrim, however, pursed his lips with a hint of dissatisfaction.
"Does he still insist there's a fifty percent chance I'll betray him? Is he still full of suspicion towards me?"
"When will I finally be able to prove my loyalty?"
Fulgrim clearly believed Alexander's secrecy was due to concerns about his betrayal.
"Even my probability of betrayal is not zero," before Fulgrim's voice had faded, Guilliman suddenly spoke, looking at him calmly.
"Did Alexander tell you that?" Fulgrim was speechless.
Guilliman nodded slightly. Fulgrim stared at his face, but could read no emotion.
"Don't you think… this kind of suspicion is almost an insult?" Fulgrim gritted his teeth slightly.
"I don't even consider it suspicion," Guilliman said flatly. "Rationally and logically, anything is possible."
"Even the most loyal person, probabilistically speaking, could be corrupted, however minuscule that possibility."
"Ten thousand years ago, no one ever thought you and Horus would betray, but the fact is, you did rebel."
"I am not omnipotent, nor am I necessarily more resilient than Horus was then. If the Gods use certain vile and powerful methods, I could still be corrupted."
"All I can do is try my utmost to prevent that possibility from becoming reality."
Fulgrim was speechless for a moment, then fell silent for a long time, finally nodding slightly.
"I understand," the clone of Fulgrim said.
Guilliman said no more, simply quickly separated a portion of the documents from the pile, motioning for his two guards, Thor and Alkenes, to take them.
"Since you are my brother, then as you said, you have a responsibility to our father's Imperium. These documents are for you to handle, do it carefully."
Fulgrim smiled and nodded: "I understand, just trust me a little more."
He stood up, waved his hand slightly, signaling Thor and Alkenes to follow.
He led the two Emperor's Children through the anywhere door, returning to the Phoenix Son Battle Group's flagship, the Phoenix's Pride, to Fulgrim's office.
Fulgrim's office style was distinctly different from Guilliman's.
Guilliman's was simple, concise, orderly, and filled with a working atmosphere, as if the concept of overtime was manifested in the material universe.
Fulgrim's office, however, was less an office and more an artist's studio.
It was filled with various exquisite musical instruments, paintings, and manuscripts. The beautiful frames on the walls held over twenty magnificent paintings:
"Sanguinius Kneeling to His Sons," "Guilliman in the Terra Imperial Palace," "Corax's Guerrilla Warfare," "I Am Rogal Dorn," "The Coronation of Lorgar," "Malcador's Sacrifice," "Ferrus Forging Silver Hands," "Ferrus Forging the Flame Sword," "Ferrus and Fulgrim Fighting Side by Side," "The True Warmaster Ferrus," "Ferrus on Istvaan V," "The Death of Ferrus," "The Heroic Spirit of Ferrus…"
Each of these paintings was over two meters tall, all personally drawn by Fulgrim to express his remembrance and love for his Primarch brothers.
Fulgrim moved the unfinished painting from beside his desk, motioned for Thor and Alkenes to place the documents on the table, and then sat down before the mountain of papers.
"Is the first one the tithe calculation for the Paldus Sector?"
Fulgrim looked at the tithe amounts for hundreds of planets on the thick stack of documents before him, his brain rapidly working.
The tithe amounts for these planets had already been calculated by Adeptus Administratum officials below. Fulgrim only needed to check if the overall amount was reasonable.
But Fulgrim knew the inefficiency of the Imperium's original administrative system. The tithe amounts for these planets were likely calculated based on data from hundreds or even thousands of years ago. Some planets might have even been destroyed after the Great Rift opened.
"The military supply tax for Damiton II? Who is the idiot who wrote this tax bill? That planet's industry has long since shut down; only a group of Astra Militarum remains, fighting Orks. Who do they want to tax? The warriors who are fighting? They themselves need military supply support!"
"Useless! The Adeptus Administratum planetary platform to which this military supply tax is sent has long reached its capacity limit; sending it there would only mean destruction. What are these useless people doing?"
"Why is the tax for Yamir I so high? Wait, why are they collecting grain?? This planet exploded into a dead world at least a thousand years ago! The Adeptus Administratum is still collecting grain from them?? Why don't you go to Baal and collect wine??"
"What is this about the tithe for Vaul VI? Isn't that the home world of the Paldus Shield Battle Group? Bastards! The Paldus Shield Battle Group fell to Chaos after the Great Rift opened decades ago! Is the next step to go collect taxes from Abaddon??"
Fulgrim was so angry his nose was crooked. He finally understood why Guilliman had to personally handle everything.
The administrative bureaucrats of the Imperial Adeptus Administratum were not derelict; it was just that their information came from the past. After the Great Rift opened, countless planets had changed, and their brains couldn't process so much information from so many planets in the galaxy, nor could they truly allocate resources from a global perspective.
Based on this erroneous information, they used flawed thinking to arrive at incorrect results... In reality, among these hundreds of planets, only about twenty had serious tax problems, and fifty or sixty had obvious problems. Most of the rest were minor errors and issues, showing the efforts of the Adeptus Administratum bureaucrats.
However, obvious tithe problems on those fifty or sixty planets would trigger a planetary rebellion, the economic collapse of several star systems, or a meaningless sacrifice. Serious tithe problems on those two dozen planets would lead to complete destruction, alien rampages, and the rise of Chaos.
This was why Guilliman could not escape his work. His superhuman brain allowed him to easily spot those meaningless sacrifices, and his idealism would not permit them to occur.
And Fulgrim, Fulgrim was a perfectionist. On Chemos, he excelled at perfectly commanding various communities to survive and develop excellent cultures in Chemos' extreme environment. He could not tolerate imperfection. Communities that couldn't achieve perfection on Chemos simply wouldn't survive.
The Imperium's current dismal administration was like an obsessive-compulsive person seeing a chaotic room. He felt as uncomfortable as if he had eaten Mortarion, but his hands couldn't help but start efficiently handling government affairs, just like Guilliman.
Thor watched this scene, hesitated for a moment, then asked in a low voice, "My lord, is there a possibility that Lord Guilliman deliberately enticed you to help him with state affairs?"
Fulgrim looked up, casting a surprised glance at Thor.
"I know, you think if you can see it, I wouldn't be able to?"
"But isn't it interesting that Guilliman is racking his brains so much to get my help?"
"And couldn't Guilliman figure out that I would see through it? He's indirectly begging me!"
"Since he's begged me, and in front of Sanguinius and you all, how can I not comply?"
Imotekh often lamented the randomness of fate and the chaos of all things.
The rising Necron, in an attempt to deflect internal conflicts, waged war against the Old Ones, only to ultimately bring themselves to the brink of extinction.
Yet, the Necron Empire, on the verge of destruction, encountered the C'tan at the last moment, gaining the opportunity for eternal immortality.
However, the C'tan merely saw the Necron as snacks; after devouring their souls, they injected their memories into cold machinery, turning them into their slaves.
And the Old Ones, once like gods, eventually perished in the War in Heaven, falling before the C'tan and endless Necron forces.
But what of the C'tan? They devoured and slaughtered each other, only to be ambushed and killed by the Necron when weakened, becoming fragments and prisoners.
Did the Necron then achieve an unparalleled Overlord position in the galaxy?
No, after brutal wars and the destruction of those god-slaying weapons, the Necron were even too weak to deal with the newly risen Aeldari, and could only fall into a long slumber.
And the Aeldari did indeed perish over long ages, but the awakened Necron did not regain their former status; they were even more decayed.
Imotekh still remembered waking up and watching the Phaerons of the Sotek Dynasty fight each other for the position of Phaeron, but ultimately, that position fell into his, Imotekh's, hands.
And just as Imotekh was full of ambition, intending to rebuild the Necron, the Silent King suddenly returned.
Imotekh had recently read much human history: the Golden Age, the Iron Men Rebellion, the Great Crusade, the Great Heresy, the Beast Wars, the Age of Apostasy... It was also a period of chaos and disorder, one after another, ultimately leading to nothing but fragmentation.
Why was this, after all?
Imotekh believed that this galaxy lacked true order.
He was determined to become that order, to let his will and logic control the entire galaxy, and to utterly eliminate chaos and disorder.
But he also knew that he was not the only one with this intention.
Every race had its desired order, every life had its will.
These wills, these orders, were bound to clash.
Imotekh did not believe his order was necessarily the best; that was illogical.
But he was determined to prove his order was the best through war.
He sat in the Indomitable Conquest, observing the cold stars, watching the light points gradually appearing on the star chart.
Those were human forces. Imotekh's gaze flickered with green light, staring intently at that light point.
Such fast marching speed.
Imotekh had not concealed his marching route this time. He intended to leverage the advantage of the Necron's inertia-less engines, making a direct assault on the Volian-Vash System, forcing humanity to consider how to parry his fierce and swift attack.
After all, Volian-Vash directly bordered the Silent King's domain. No matter how they arranged their defenses, they could at most construct one defensive line. To increase the thickness of the defense, they could only take the initiative to attack and meet Imotekh's forces.
Thus, no matter how many routes humanity attacked from, Imotekh would counter with one full-force route.
More importantly, humanity could never completely encircle and kill Imotekh. As long as Imotekh wished, he could use the power of the inertia-less engines to retreat directly into the Tomb World Gate at any time.
But that light point on the screen made Imotekh's logic-brain start to roar into operation.
Too fast. Could human forces really be this fast?
The movement speed of this light point even surpassed inertia-less engines. They looked almost as if they weren't traveling in the material universe, but were constantly making high-speed teleports of ten light-years at a time.
Damn it, how is this possible!!!
Imotekh's logic-brain roared, calculating the energy required for this mode of travel. It was an astronomical number, technically impossible!
Any Star Gate? Imotekh had seen data on this thing in intelligence reports.
His Tech-priests unanimously believed it was at most some kind of Warp technology, but now it seemed to be a technology completely belonging to the material universe.
This was a serious strategic misjudgment, though not yet to the extent of affecting the overall war situation.
"A bunch of useless fools." Imotekh's face was grim.
This was also one of Imotekh's shortcomings. Most Overlords and Overlords had a good understanding of technology and science.
But Imotekh did not.
The Necron were a race that placed extreme importance on social hierarchy, and Imotekh's origins during the Necron era were only slightly better than a commoner. Even with extreme effort, he only managed to get into the Sotek Command Vocational Technical University.
That school merely trained officers for the Sotek Dynasty's slave soldiers and did not teach Imotekh any real knowledge.
In terms of education, Imotekh couldn't even compare to that old madman, Zandrekh.
Zandrekh was born into the Necron elite noble class and attended the most prestigious and famous military academy in the entire Necron Empire.
Imotekh only displayed his talent on the battlefield, becoming a Crowned General, and then became Phaeron through a coup after the Great Awakening.
It was precisely because of this shortcoming that Imotekh had to rely on the judgment of the Tech-priests for some technical issues, but those Tech-priests were not necessarily reliable. Imotekh began to miss the Astromancer Orikan a bit.
Before the Silent King's return, Orikan had served as the court astromancer of the Sotek Dynasty.
After silently cursing the Silent King, Imotekh casually called up images sent back by a scout hidden in a Pocket Dimension, wanting to see the details of that human force.
Imotekh saw a weathered flagship, with a crying heart depicted on it. Although its surface had been repaired, traces of the brutal battles it had endured in the past were still visible. Behind this ship were more than ten new ships, following closely as they traversed the void.
The Stormlord quickly cross-referenced his database and confirmed the identity of this human force.
The Astartes Chapter, Cryptek.
Decades ago, they launched several desperate charges to protect a human planet in the path of the Kraken hive Fleet, nearly being wiped out.
Now, they had clearly received so-called Primaris reinforcements, allowing them to regain their combat strength.
As for the so-called 'rumors among humans that this Chapter has extremely bad luck and is extremely unlucky' recorded in the archives, the Stormlord directly ignored them.
His logic would not adopt such inexplicable superstitious rumors.
What Imotekh truly found strange was that among the many Astartes Chapters, the Cryptek had almost no special characteristics. Why would they be his vanguard?
Moreover, their military strength was simply too weak compared to Imotekh's main force, to the point of being negligible.
"My Lord, the movement route of their forces is incorrect." At this moment, Overlord Ogdovak, who was subordinate to Imotekh, spoke.
This Overlord was also a competent commander, specializing in fleet battles. By observing, he quickly determined that there was a problem with the Cryptek fleet's marching route.
"Their course is biased to the right, and they will pass us at a relatively close distance in the void, without directly entering the weapon range of both sides."
Overlord Ogvalk drew a line on the star chart and said:
"Damn it, are they planning to outflank us or get behind us? This is too inexplicable!"
"At such a close distance, we can easily detect their intentions. We only need to change course now to easily destroy them. Could it be that they are so unlucky that they took the wrong course?"
Ogvalk drew an arc. If the Stormlord's forces simply changed course according to this arc, they could easily get behind the Cryptek and crush their forces in one blow.
The Stormlord nodded slightly in agreement. Indeed, by simply changing course, he could easily devour this fish.
Imotekh looked at that light point, and a strong urge surged in his consciousness: to crush this force called the Cryptek, to tear apart their ships, destroy their bodies, make them experience the cruelest side of fate, and let them feel the deepest misfortune in this galaxy.
He was almost about to give the order to change course and destroy the Cryptek.
But at the last moment, Imotekh suddenly sobered up, his metallic body trembling slightly.
Damn it, why did he have such an inexplicable impulse?
Did he have any enmity with the Cryptek? No!
Was it militarily reasonable to change course and attack the Cryptek? No!
Changing course would leave Imotekh's forces with a weak flank, exposing a vulnerability.
If the human main force were to suddenly approach Imotekh's forces at this time, using that strange technology called the Any Star Gate, it would only put Imotekh in danger.
So why would he do this? How could such an illogical thought surge within him?
Even if the Cryptek really did outflank or get behind them, how much damage could they cause?
To swat a mosquito, while exposing one's head to a tiger's mouth?
The Stormlord immediately felt a chill of horror.
This human race, they were somewhat sinister.
"Relay my command: maintain formation, the entire army is not to heed——"
The moment Imotekh spoke, on the star chart, the fleets on the left and right flanks of the Stormlord's forces, without his command, actually began to change course on their own, attempting to pursue the Cryptek.
"Nazar! Zahran! What are those two bastards doing!!"
The fleets guarding the left and right flanks came from the subordinate dynasties of Imotekh, Sekhmetar and Arlin Mark. The Overlords of these two dynasties, Nazar and Zahran, had actually moved their forces to pursue the Cryptek without the Stormlord's consent.
Overlord Ogvalk was also a bit stunned. He quickly sent inquiries to the Overlords of the two subordinate dynasties.
The reply he received was:
"..Nazar and Zahran said they couldn't help it."
"As soon as they saw the Cryptek' fleet, they couldn't help but want to go up and give them a good beating, as if... as if the Cryptek were universally hated."
Seeing them just made one want to beat them up.
Imotekh was speechless; he couldn't bring himself to criticize the two Overlords, Nazar and Zahran.
After all, even he himself had inexplicably felt this urge just now.
It was as if destiny itself was using Imotekh's hand to bring about the misfortune of the Cryptek.
This was truly inexplicable and completely illogical, making it difficult for Imotekh to comprehend.
"Should we order Nazar and Zahran to stop turning?" Overlord Vaukluk asked.
Imotekh's expression darkened slightly. The drawback of the inertia-less engines was evident here; they were simply too fast. By the time Imotekh could react, the turn had already begun.
If Imotekh interrupted the turn now, it would not only fail to stabilize the fleet's formation but would also cause chaos.
Furthermore, with both flanks having started their turns, if Imotekh's center remained stationary, it would lead to a complete collapse of the formation.
The Stormlord waved his hand, signaling Overlord Vaukluk not to interrupt the turns of the two subsidiary dynasty forces, and then ordered his own Sotek Dynasty fleet to follow suit and begin its turn.
Imotekh knew that he had likely fallen into a human trap.
However, his initial lament was not about the humans' ingenious tactical design.
Because, in Imotekh's view, this tactic was not particularly ingenious at all; it was entirely based on luck, gambling that Imotekh's forces would actually pursue the Cryptek.
What Imotekh truly lamented was how incredibly unlucky the Cryptek were.
"..Are these Cryptek really that unlucky?"
"A mere small Chapter, drawing the pursuit of my entire Dynasty and two subsidiary Dynasties?"
Imotekh muttered to himself.
And the humans seemed truly convinced that the Cryptek would be this unlucky, that they would definitely provoke Imotekh's forces. Couldn't they stop with all this superstition? Wouldn't it be better if everyone just fought logically and rationally?
Although they hadn't directly engaged yet, he had already found a lot of the 'fighting greenskins' feeling from the humans.
Inexplicable, completely illogical, a string of bizarre coincidences.
Truly detestable!
But Imotekh didn't believe it, he didn't believe his order would be defeated by those illogical things—
Hmm?
Just then, a roaring arc light suddenly appeared beside Imotekh.
The continuity of reality was instantly torn, and a Webway gate suddenly appeared on the flank of Imotekh's fleet.
And within the Webway, the engines of countless warships roared, transforming into spears piercing Imotekh's exposed flank.
The leading vessel was particularly massive and exquisite, with a slender body, entirely gilded, and a massive crimson gem embedded in its wing-like prow, like a tear of blood suspended in the void.
Imotekh's extraordinary logic quickly helped him identify this vessel.
The flagship of the human Blood Angels, the Gloriana-class Battleship Red Tears.
The Conqueror's sensors rapidly operated, allowing Imotekh to see a figure standing in the void on the prow of the Red Tears.
It was an Astartes in crimson power armor. His armor resembled a strong man who had been flayed, with the ceramite surface sculpted into the form of vibrant red muscles.
He had long, golden-white hair, a pale complexion like a cave-dwelling creature that had not seen light for a long time, and a pair of eyes surging with intense Psyker light.
Chief Librarian Mephiston of the Blood Angels.
With Dante stationed on Baal handling administrative affairs and Sanguinius having another assignment arranged by Saint Doraemon, Mephiston became the nominal overall commander of the entire Blood Angels force.
Imotekh's expression remained unchanged. He understood how dangerous his exposed flank was, but he had already devised countermeasures.
He would unleash the power of enslaved gods.
Between Imotekh's forces' flank and the Blood Angels fleet, the real dimension experienced a violent distortion.
A Pocket Dimension unfolded microscopically, appearing in the macroscopic universe. With it, three massive Necron constructs were released.
Though described as massive, these three Necron constructs were actually inconspicuous in the void, unable to compare with the grand voidships, like three small pebbles.
These constructs were entirely composed of blackstone, pyramid-shaped with their corners shaved off, their surfaces shimmering with a series of fluorescent green lines, exuding a strange aura.
Those were the Hypercube Labyrinths.
They were shackles, treasures of the Sotek Dynasty, and one of the most powerful forces in Imotekh's hands.
They themselves did not possess great power; the true power lay in the prisoners within them.
In the vacuum, one of the Hypercube Labyrinths slowly opened, and brilliant light roared forth. An existence entirely composed of multicolored energy slowly stretched its form within the cage. It extended its multiple limbs, holding a scepter, a sphere, a sword, and an axe, and opened its three eyes on its forehead. Its headpiece, condensed from the light of the stars, shone brightly.
He was the Shaper, Igrania, a fragment of a C'tan most skilled at decomposing and reshaping planets.
Then, another Hypercube Labyrinth opened. Countless metallic insects swirled within the blackstone construct. Each metallic insect shimmered with a faint golden luster. These transformed into threads, connecting the metallic swarm to form a faint human figure.
He was the Deceiver, Ish'tara, the Infinite Swarm, the Eternal plague, a fragment of a C'tan that once dwelled in the minds of countless beings.
The last Hypercube Labyrinth also opened, and a bright star burst forth from within. Its living metal shell shattered into countless fragments that coiled around him, operating in ways completely incomprehensible to humans, swirling like planets around a star, or subjects around a monarch.
He was the Transcendent, Zahulash, Lord of Time and Space, Wielder of Knowledge, the Beacon, a fragment of a C'tan whose shards were once used by the Necrons to forge lighthouses.
These three C'tan shards were among the five jewels in the Sotek Dynasty's treasury. Aside from the two fragments whose power was too immense and almost impossible to retrieve once unleashed, they represented the strongest power controlled by the Stormlord.
These three C'tan shards were sufficient to resist the Blood Angels fleet. Even if a human Primarch were to engage, they would not be able to break through these three divine fragments.
The three C'tan shards shimmered like three bright, hot, dazzling stars, connected together like an insurmountable wall of light.
Mephiston stood on the prow, his entire body enveloped in intense Psyker light.
The prow of the Red Tears was made of bloodstone, a specialty of Baal. This massive bloodstone came from the Crimson Heart within the mountains of Baal, or rather, from Baal's Heart.
According to the Eldar, it was where Baal's World-Spirit resided, the dwelling place of Baal's essence.
Mephiston was unsure if the Eldar's claims were accurate, but the bloodstone produced there did indeed bring a certain degree of Psyker resonance. And enough bloodstone gathered together could greatly amplify the Psyker power of the Blood Angels Librarians.
Mephiston gently injected his will into the bloodstone on the Red Tears' prow. This massive, mountain-like bloodstone erupted with light, and Mephiston's mind was filled with the desolate yet majestic landscape of Baal III.
Vaguely, Mephiston saw two angels, one dark and one golden, circling above the mountains of Baal. The dark, cold, and angry angel cast its gaze upon Mephiston.
The Black Rage erupted within Mephiston's body. Mephiston felt his will merge with Sanguinius', connecting and drawing powerful Psyker energy from it.
A roar erupted from Mephiston's mouth, and his form was instantly torn into nine parts.
Mephiston simultaneously summoned his past, present, and future to the same moment, and then divided each self into body, soul, and will.
All nine Mephistons possessed Mephiston's full Psyker power. They roared in unison, almost transforming into nine roaring Warp storms.
Imotekh merely gave a cold smile at the sight.
No matter how powerful the tides of the Warp, the real universe would always be the domain of the C'tan.
To fight a C'tan with Psyker power in the real universe, who did he think he was? The Eldar Gods?
Even the Eldar Gods, created by the Old Ones to fight the C'tan, could not independently oppose the C'tan; they required external assistance.
Although Imotekh only released fragments, hadn't all the Eldar Gods died anyway?
Plasma light erupted from the three eyes on the Shaper's forehead. High temperature and intense heat roared. Dark matter hidden in the void was released and converted into substances like carbon, iron, magnesium, and silicon, coalescing into a sphere as large as a small planet, circling in the void and targeting the Red Tears.
The metallic scarabs that formed the Deceiver, Ish'tara, began to self-replicate. He drew energy from the void, converted it into matter, and then sculpted that matter into more metallic insects. These tiny metallic insects transformed into an iron plague, spreading through the void, about to fly towards the Blood Angels fleet.
The Transcendent, Zahulash, burst forth with light like a star. In the areas illuminated by his light, spacetime began to distort intensely. Gravity was twisted into vortices, and the distance between the Blood Angels fleet and the Stormlord's fleet was extremely stretched, what was once close at hand became far away.
Imotekh gave a chilling, low laugh, believing he had the victory in hand.
Just then, Imotekh seemed to vaguely hear some laughter.
The laughter was mixed with mocking jokes, foolish voices, malicious lies, and insidious temptations, faint and elusive, seeming to be mere illusions.
In the void, the Transcendent, Zahulash's body suddenly trembled. This C'tan abruptly twisted his head, looking at the other two C'tan beside him.
Phaeron Zahurash suddenly turned his spear, dragging distorted space to smash into the small planetary sphere crafted by the World-Shaper.
In the blink of an eye, the small planet was swallowed by Zahurash's distorted space, thrown to some unknown corner among the stars.
The World-Shaper let out a sharp roar, again conjuring matter to create a series of meteorites, but he didn't hurl them at the Blood Angels' fleet, nor at Zahurash who had suddenly attacked him, but rather at the Deceiver, Ishu Tuo.
the Deceiver, Ishu Tuo, hastily redirected the metal Tyranids swarm he had spawned, sending them to devour the meteorites thrown by the World-Shaper.
The Tyranid Swarm devoured the meteorites while rapidly self-replicating.
But before the Deceiver could finish devouring the meteorites, the Phaeron suddenly appeared beside him, twisting space-time and creating singularities, instantly teleporting the newly replicated metal Tyranids swarm to an unknown location.
The World-Shaper also roared and bellowed; his arms suddenly multiplied, his slender fingers slicing through the void, first extracting dark matter into matter, then twisting matter into antimatter, shaping them into antimatter spears, which he hurled at the Phaeron and the Deceiver.
Antimatter annihilation occurred instantly, raw energy directly consuming the two C'tan.
Space-time let out a low hum at this moment; the Phaeron created a thin membrane around himself, composed of infinitely stretched space-time.
The energy burst from antimatter annihilation did not harm him in the slightest.
He stepped out of the fire, ready to kill the World-Shaper.
But behind him, the Deceiver rapidly absorbed the surrounding energy, transforming it into matter, and breeding a large number of metal Tyranids swarms, which converged into metal threads, tearing open the membrane on the Phaeron's body and coiling around him, forcefully holding the Phaeron in place.
The World-Shaper also seized the opportunity, stepping forward, antimatter weapon in hand, to smash the Phaeron.
Imotekh watched dumbfounded as the C'tan shards he had unleashed devolved into a chaotic mess, completely exceeding his logical predictions.
This scene was so ridiculous, so inexplicable, so incomprehensible and comical.
Why was this happening??
Suddenly, Imotekh noticed what Mephiston was doing.
Mephiston, now ninefold, did not attack the C'tan; all his Psyker power flowed into the Red Tears beneath him, flowing into the ships behind him and the Webway Gate.
"Is that… Blackstone?" Imotekh looked at the analysis report submitted by the Tech-priests.
Blackstone obelisks were installed in the Blood Angels' ships, and under Mephiston's Psyker control, all these Blackstones were amplifying the Warp concentration nearby and connecting with the Webway Gate, as if paving the way for the arrival of something within the Webway.
A slight smile involuntarily appeared on Imotekh's lips… he laughed uncontrollably.
Laugh?
Laugh!
"Ha!!!"
A burst of laughter came from the depths of the Webway; the laughter was utterly mocking, utterly derisive, with all things in existence ridiculed by it.
Ink-spill-like colors and light points accompanied the laughter as it burst from the Webway, coloring everything Imotekh could see.
The cold starlight in the void suddenly became dazzling and bright, transforming into mocking, derisive smiling faces, circling the dark celestial sphere, ridiculing everything in the material universe.
Light and shadow became bizarre; Imotekh's shadow, the shadows of other Necron, all shadows cast by light, transformed into leaping dancers, prancing on ships, stars, and in the void.
Tens of millions of voices, some foolish, some cunning, echoed in the ears of Imotekh and all nearby living beings, telling a thousand jokes and a thousand lies.
"Distinguished guests! Friends! Brothers and sisters!"
"I've missed you all!!!"
The most intense laughter resounded from the void; the stars transformed into distorted robes, and a crescent moon appeared above the stars, then in the blink of an eye, it turned into a clown face painted with pastels, looking down from above at the three C'tan shards fighting amongst themselves.
"New and old friends! Laugh! Why aren't you laughing! Now is the time for loud laughter!"
"Because ten thousand years of being hidden away are over! Your favorite clown has returned to the spotlight of the galaxy's grand stage!"
"Igrania, Ishu Tuo, Zahurash, you adorable little fools are still as easily deceived as you were ten thousand years ago!!! Hee hee hee!!!"
Lies, tens of millions of lies, woven into threads, hung from the clown's fingertips, manipulating the C'tan shards into infighting.
Imotekh's metal body froze in place.
As a Necron Crown General who had experienced the War in Heaven, Imotekh knew perfectly well who that clown was.
If anyone caused the greatest damage to the C'tan during the War in Heaven among the Aeldari gods, it was neither Asuryan, the Phoenix King, nor Kaela Mensha Khaine, the Bloody-Handed God of War, nor Vaul, the God of the Forge.
It was the Laughing God, Cegorach, who seemed less conspicuous.
Cegorach, this half-brother of the Deceiver, used lies to trick the C'tan Outsider, causing him to devour many other C'tan, ultimately driving the Outsider mad, who remains isolated outside the galaxy to this day.
He directly crippled the most powerful C'tan and many other C'tan with just one lie.
Moreover, this clown, Cegorach, seemed to have reached some kind of understanding with the Deceiver during the War in Heaven; a C'tan and an Aeldari god would frequently swap identities and impersonate each other.
No one knew which lies and pranks from back then were Cegorach's and which were the Deceiver's.
Cegorach, in Imotekh's view, was the most dangerous entity among the Aeldari.
After awakening, when Imotekh learned of the Aeldari's fall, the death of the Aeldari gods, and that the Laughing God had not appeared in the galaxy for ten thousand years, he even felt fortunate.
But now...
"Where did this thing raised by the Deceiver come from!!!!" Imotekh swore aloud.
Thousands of mocking laughs immediately echoed in his ears, as if ridiculing him.
The Laughing God laughed heartily; since the fall of the Aeldari, for ten thousand years, he had hidden in the narrow cage of the Black Library, unable to perform on stage for ten millennia.
Now, as Alexander and Slaanesh reached some kind of understanding, Cegorach was able to escape from the Black Library and once again stand in the spotlight of the galactic stage.
"Let me, the clown, entertain you!"
Aboard the Void Wanderer, the flagship of Anrakyr the Traveller,
Overlords from different Necron Dynasties gathered.
Their Tomb Ships were docked around the Void Wanderer, and some of them remained in their Tomb Ships, awaiting Anrakyr's formal invitation to the meeting, while others had come aboard the Void Wanderer themselves to converse with other Phaerons and rulers who would soon attend the meeting.
The Mephrit Dynasty Phaeron, Zalathusa the Unspeakable, was the latter.
He had not yet formally declared himself the Mephrit Dynasty Phaeron, but he was already the true ruler of the Mephrit Dynasty... after all, the Mephrit Dynasty practically only had his territory in the Netherworld Star System left.
But the Mephrit Dynasty possessed a large amount of stellar technology, and with this technology, its status among the Necron Dynasties remained high.
However, sixty million years ago, the Mephrit Dynasty often used its stellar technology to help the Silent King punish rebellious dynasties, thus earning the nickname 'Silent King's Executioner'.
Zalathusa hoped to change the perception of his dynasty among the other Phaerons, to make them understand that he, the Unspeakable, was never the Silent King's lackey.
"Yo! Zalathusa!"
"Bastard, call me the Unspeakable!"
"Okay, Zalathusa, yes, Zalathusa!"
"Can you show me some respect and call me the Unspeakable!"
Zalathusa was so angry that his metal nose almost twisted.
These bastard Phaerons completely disregarded the Mephrit Dynasty's history of serving the Silent King.
But they found the name 'the Unspeakable' that Zalathusa had come up with for himself after awakening amusing, and they deliberately called him Zalathusa by name to tease him.
However, this was not without its benefits; Zalathusa successfully blended into the Phaerons' inner circle and participated in their discussions.
"The Silent King is devoid of virtue! He actually declared me disrespectful to him and withheld my final payment just because I stepped through the door with my left foot!"
"What's that compared to mine! My fleet was privately impounded by him just for brushing past his fleet! My newly maintained fleet!"
"What is that Anrakyr fellow doing? He summoned us to oppose the Silent King, yet he himself has disappeared."
"I heard that for safety reasons, the meeting will not be held on the Void Wanderer, but will instead proceed to a confidential, secure star system."
"That's quite reasonable, after all, the Stormlord's forces are advancing, and his target seems to be the Volian-Vash System; the meeting wouldn't be held there, would it?"
"Hahaha, how could that be, he's not an idiot."
The Phaerons discussed animatedly; they rarely gathered like this.
"Phaeron Zalathusa." A cold voice sounded behind Zalathusa.
"Bastard, call me the Unspeakable—huh? Ah? Who are you?" Zalathusa paused, looking a bit confused at the Necron Phaeron in front of him.
This Phaeron's head was very strange; unlike the elongated metal heads of Necron, it was rounder, smoother, and more serene, appearing quite handsome.
"Me, I am Szarekh, the Phaeron of the Nihilakh Dynasty.
I once purchased a batch of Mephrit Dynasty Phaeron relics from you, in exchange for a fleet." Szarekh, the Nihilakh Dynasty Phaeron, said with a smile.
Zalathusa suddenly realized.
After he took over the Mephrit Dynasty's treasury, Zalathusa believed that some of the old relics in it were no longer useful.
Among the many dynasties that liked to collect old relics, it was naturally the Nihilakh Dynasty.
Szarekh was one of the few Phaerons he was acquainted with.
"..You look a bit different." Zalathusa hesitated before saying.
Szarekh smiled and reached up to touch his head: "Never seen one before, have you? A genuine Terra human skull."