Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

"You are more punctual than I thought, Queen of the Witch Spirits."

"Just a moment ago, I almost thought I had failed: after all, most of us behind us have been lacking communication for too long, and the rifts between our kindred are more shocking than the terrible scars that burst out when the empire was shattered in the past."

"..."

"If you have something to say, say it! Prophet!"

The rude voice did not come from the red-haired queen surrounded by the team, but from a dedicated servant beside her. This maid full of loyalty, jealousy and ambition bared her teeth at her host, as if she was about to attack her master. The jealousy was vented on him.

"Be at ease, Comorian lady, I have arrived here for a hard future and a great cause, in which you also have your own place: from now on, maybe you have to learn to be patient, learn Chew the dissatisfaction in your mouth into a bitter drink and savor the taste it brings to you.”

"If you keep nagging me, I'm going to taste your blood."

The person who expressed his position was changed, but his voice and tone were the same.

Lilith-Hesrapecos raised her eyelids contemptuously, and spat disdainfully at the former kindred spirit in front of her. Her long, bright red hair, which was tied up like a blood-stained rose, was as high as ever on the back of her head, almost It hangs all the way down to the dust on the ground, like the most tender bait, tempting anyone who dares to come to the door to die.

This is one of the skills that the Witch-Elf Queen is most proud of. In the past countless years, in the gladiatorial arena of Commorragh, she thought she had caught the shortcomings of the Empress of the Night, so she began to dream of victory, and then hit her head first. The fools devoted to misery and death are enough to build a magnificent spire.

The Queen of Blades, the supreme banshee of the Witch Spirit Sect, and one of the most powerful individuals among the remnants of the ancient empire, is so crazy, confident and arrogant that all her kind rely on relics and twisted mutations from ancient times. While fighting with endless surgeries and addictive drugs with endless consequences, Lilith proudly maintained the joy of close combat. She was not obsessed with drugs, did not seek help from transformation, and did not even bother to use more blades or weapons.

For her: barbed headbands, sports bras, stockings and thongs were enough to support all defenses, and the large areas of exposed skin were just to show off her countless battles that were tantamount to suicide. Leaving not even a trace of a wound, and the biggest contributor to all this was just an Impaler's Dagger and a Curved Blade.

As for more things, they are no different from a burden, just like in Lilith's eyes, the famous so-called prophet in front of her is no different from a burden.

Such a point of view was so direct and ardent that there was no concealment or cover-up at all. In this regard, the host who invited the Witch Spirit Queen didn't say much.

The host, the prophet, or in other words, Eldrad from the Ark of Urthwe, maintains an amazing etiquette and self-cultivation. He holds the staff of Asmael, under the tall and gorgeous helmet. , is a thin face that maintains an almost eternal seriousness.

"You should have seen my messenger, the Queen of Witch Spirits. You know the purpose of my inviting you here."

"Then you'd better say it again, Prophet."

The queen of the arena grinned, revealing her sharp teeth.

"I'll never remember a word from those weaklings."

"I see."

The prophet of Ulthwe was so calm that the Commorans almost found it boring. Following the Witch-Elf Queen, those equally fanatical, bloodthirsty and scantily clad followers began to look at Eldrad with the most obvious hostility. Uth maintains the guard behind him.

The tension built up to the point of breaking out almost in an instant, but the two people standing in the center and truly grasping the overall situation: the prophet of Uthwe and the queen of the Arena of Commorragh maintained the beauty behind their respective masks. Cold and clear.

"I call you here, I call you here for a commission, a commission that asks you to wield your sharp blade and spill the life and blood you love. It is about a successful raid and a tragic attack. massacre."

"Commission?"

The Queen of the Strife Sect laughed silently: That fleeting smile was enough to drive countless rich and powerful people crazy in the distant city of Comoros: As the most elegant embodiment of the word death, Lilith waved it casually. The sexy and captivating bloody works are rare treasures that only a few people can see among the Dark Eldar.

So, behind her, another wizard spirit stood up, and what commanded them was the subtlest movements of the wizard spirit queen, and the tacit understanding enslaved by countless generations.

"You know, Prophet, I don't need a commission."

"If I want to taste blood, there will be a thousand arenas in the entire Commorragh fighting each other to the death for the seat that opens the door to me. I can choose the best prey in the galaxy at will, and naturally there will be A large number of slave-catching teams are willing to serve me. As long as I stand in the gladiatorial arena, when have I ever lacked strong enemies and blood?"

"Only when I am in the best mood and most interested, I will team up with those lucky people who have been selected to go to the country of those mortal idiots to carry out attacks and massacres, and enjoy a long-awaited relaxing vacation. But like I said, this kind of action depends on my mood."

"Now, I'm not in the mood."

"I think your mood is depressed because of your inadequacy as a strong person?"

Eldrad's voice was not so much a sentence of culture as a sentence without any hesitation. The offensive truth made the Witch Spirit Queen instantly raise her head, her pupils exuding a look of desperation like a hungry lynx. Terrified, the dozens of wizard spirits behind him simultaneously roared to welcome the battle.

The voices and thoughts conveyed by the servants beside him have turned into the purest kind of anger.

"I'm warning you! Prophet! Don't use your silly tricks on me!"

"Do you think your prophecy can save you? Do you think Wusi's scrap metal can protect your head? If I want, I can take a piece of iron and compare your wandering eyes with Didn’t cut off the mouth of the door!”

"Do you think I can't do it?"

"Of course you can, ma'am, there's no doubt about it."

"Among those of your kind who hide in the webway, lingering in self-degradation and endless decadence, you are the unquestionable light, the last twisted inheritance of the ancient spirit: no one can deny that, not even me, lady."

"If it really takes your breath away, then I'd like to apologize for what I did, and I hope it doesn't distract from the rest of our conversation, which, like I said, is important."

Eldrad stroked his mirror-like helmet. His words were plain and incredibly calm. It was hard to tell whether it was a sincere apology or a cold-faced sarcasm, even if the Commorrian blade, which is famous in all arks, was far away from him. There was only an extremely unsafe approach to his neck, but it still didn't disrupt his rhythm.

He knew that he had seen the future, many futures, but none of them had problems at this step: in seven cases, his envoys did not come back at all, and in three cases, although his envoys came back, his The seriousness of the scars and the danger of life directly sentenced all subsequent activities to death.

But once things got to this point, once they started meeting, there was no need to worry about anything: for the Queen of Witch Spirits, the pain of not having an opponent was greater than Prophet Wuswei expected, and he didn't have to worry about being deceived by his words. sex.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to continue our conversation."

Eldrad waited a few seconds; he was not denied.

Everything was as he had foreseen.

Everything is just like that... the most terrifying prophecy.

The prophet of Wusi was breathing heavily deep in his heart. As long as he thought about the glimpse he had in that prophecy, his heart would continue to collapse, and an unimaginable despair would spread involuntarily.

He knew he had to stop the terrible future he foresaw: no matter what he had to do to do it, no matter what he had to sacrifice to do it.

"Queen of the Arena of Commorragh, please hear my words."

"Just when you are sitting in the dried blood of the weak, lamenting that strong enemies are becoming increasingly rare, have you ever thought about the real reason why this kind of thing happens?"

"In a place that you have not paid attention to, in a place that all the residents of Comoros have avoided and have never seriously faced, a child's play grand performance is being staged in every galaxy in the real universe. That barbaric and Once again, the short-lived race pours out of their so-called solar system, mercilessly destroying those who stand in their way, eager to raise up the ruins of their own fallen ruins."

"They were enslaved and driven by a big lie. They were urged and guided by a fanatical dream. They exerted pure warlikeness and arrogance on the galaxy, longing for the luck that they would be able to grasp hope. Son."

"But we have to admit that among them, there are indeed some individuals, some creations that should not belong to them in the first place, who know the art of fighting and war: this is also the biggest reason why they can be so rampant."

The prophet of Wusi waved his hand, and scenes of real and illusory scenes unfolded in front of everyone: in the cold void, in the burning ruins, in the most huge and terrifying whirlpool of war, called human beings The monsters of the empire are devouring everything and brutally tearing apart all their opponents.

The unimaginable war atrocities made the wizards tremble with excitement, but their red-haired queen was paying attention to another more important and unique individual: those tall, god-like warriors, who seemed to be made of flesh and blood. The war tower easily crushed countless opponents worth fighting to ashes.

Eldrad's voice sounded, still calm, but unknowingly, it had some induced fluctuations.

"You know."

"Primarch."

"Perhaps in Comoros, this is just a talking point at a banquet, and it is the Haemonculi's ridicule of mankind's crude technology: Which of the people of the ancient empire would pay much attention to everything in the real universe? These so-called expeditions of mankind, in From Comoros’ perspective, it’s not even as long as a formal banquet and murder.”

The prophet of Uthsi carefully controlled his words and instruments: in order to make his plan proceed smoothly, these videos depicting the heroic battles of the Primarch have been specially screened, and the power shown in them is enough to evoke Lilith's desire can give her the illusion of being hostile to her.

This is a technical job.

Eldrad was silent, feeling the faintest remorse in his heart for deliberately murdering his own kind, but when he thought of the scene he saw, when he thought of those...

…

The hunger and thirst in the mortal world tore apart the curtain of the Eldar Ark, and hundreds of thousands or more of the same race turned into invisible screams...

The golden king was defeated in the chess game, and the dark prince's beloved daughter was held tightly in his hands with a loud cry, longing for a feast...

The most despicable parricide held high the heads of seven brothers, and the most terrible betrayal and lie started the darkness sweeping the galaxy...

…

…

No no no no!

Everything he does now is justified in order to stop what he's seeing.

Once again, when the prophet of Uthwe convinced himself again, he heard the words from the wizard spirit.

"Where are they?"

Eldrad smiled.

"They are scattered in all directions, fighting their own wars, my Lady of Comoros."

"But if you really want to know, I know that there is a Primarch who has just reunited with his legion. At this time, it seems that he is planning to go to the far eastern frontier of the galaxy..."