The Emperor’s Angel of Death

#3445 - Foolish King

Chapter 3448: The Foolish King

"Child, you will lead us all into the Avici Hell."

Was he wrong?

No.

He was not wrong.

With a spark of unexpected emotion, a flicker detached from his circuits, Rakzan kicked the deceased Eldar out of sight, only to fall into a brief moment of confusion.

He stood in the desert, cratered like a meteorite impact site, the vast night sky filled with strange light. Millions of Eldar poured out of shimmering portals, but these servants paled in comparison to Rakzan's legions. Those wearing tall helmets and light armor were, in his eyes, nothing more than insects hastily pushed onto the battlefield by desperate masters. The Dynasty was unleashing its full power here.

Even though their slender weapons were formidable, their streamlined war machines swift, and they were adept at using psychic energy for curses and deception, it was merely a pathetic shadow of the power wielded by their ancient nemesis. Such tricks could not save the fate of those selfish Old Ones. Their sorcery could not withstand the power the Dynasty had painstakingly acquired.

The Dynasty's soldiers formed legions, advancing in neat formations. Gleaming black stone obelisks descended from above the clouds, or materialized out of thin air. Doomsday arks and annihilation barges slid out from the obelisk array in angled formations.

They were the pride of the Szarekhan Dynasty, capable of destroying any enemy.

Sudden explosions and strange lights blurred his vision. The enemy had used some kind of weapon. Five entire formations vanished. A scar torn from reality was healing, a purple rift swallowing everything around it.

Those lost warriors would be lost forever, unable to be resurrected.

This had happened many times before. Rakzan calculated the staggering losses. Once, he had been proud of these losses, believing that his brethren finally had a chance to regain the glory lost in the rebellion.

But now their losses had exceeded the Dynasty's capacity to bear, especially among the nobles. The Eldar were particularly inclined to behead warriors, which put the Szarekhan Dynasty's nobles at great risk. Rakzan hoped to obtain more powerful equipment to protect the nobles on the front lines, but the Silent Council responded only with silence. The great gods of the stars kept urging him to fight the Eldar.

A massive energy surge followed. Rakzan raised his head and saw a star god. It was using the planet's moon against the Eldar's tens of thousands of warships. The moon trembled constantly, eventually collapsing into countless continent-sized fragments, turning into a spectacular meteor shower that engulfed the Eldar's warring ships, as well as the Szarekhan Dynasty's fleet engaged in battle with them.

The star god's hunger, madness, and power twisted the fabric of reality, eventually forcing the Eldar fleet to flee in disarray, but the Szarekhan Dynasty's fleet was also decimated.

They were just using them as bait.

Rakzan realized that they had never forgiven the Szarekhan Dynasty.

"Child, you will lead us all into the Avici Hell."

Was he wrong?

No.

He was not wrong.

A cold, gloomy voice ignited violent sparks in Rakzan's circuits. The Silent Council's envoy stood in his court, now occupied by only a dozen nobles. Rakzan gripped the scepter in his hand, his energy nodes flickering all over his body.

"The Silent Council regrets the Szarekhan Dynasty's losses and misfortunes. The Silent King promises that the Szarekhan Dynasty will receive corresponding compensation in the future, as long as we defeat those evil star gods. The Necrons will be free, and the Szarekhan Dynasty will also be free."

Rakzan raised his hand, pointing to the empty throne room.

"The Silent Ones promised that war would bring eternity, and the Szarekhan Dynasty threw itself into war without hesitation. The star gods promised that war would bring victory, and we fought with all our strength. But look, look at what we have gained? Decay, decline, destruction! And now the Silent Ones tell me that this is a deception! Then what will we ultimately gain!?"

The envoy, clad in a flowing, metallic robe, raised his hand, holding a cube.

"This is a powerful weapon given to you by the Silent Ones to destroy the star gods. The Silent King promises that this will be the last battle. After the war, these will also belong to you, as will those small dynasties weakened by the war. The Szarekhan Dynasty will still be strong."

Seeing Rakzan motionless, the envoy then added:

"It is these evil deceivers who have brought misfortune to the Szarekhan Dynasty. They killed your relatives and poisoned the Necrons. This is a revenge that must be carried out, otherwise our race will be enslaved forever."

Rakzan's energy nodes dimmed. He stepped down from the throne, took the cube. At this moment, the fire of anger churning in his heart had reached its peak.

"The Szarekhan Dynasty will take the lead in wielding the blade of vengeance against the abominations! Please tell His Highness the Silent King that Rakzan will not forget his generosity."

"Of course."

In the instant he turned, a mocking expression seemed to flicker across the Silent Council's envoy's metal face.

Rakzan returned to the throne, raising the scepter in his hand.

"To war! To revenge!"

The star god's mad roar and chaotic laughter assaulted Rakzan's consciousness. The roar shook the planet, causing cities to crumble in the deafening noise, even the stars trembled.

Weird energy flickered incessantly, the Szarekhan Dynasty's legions burned by cosmic fire dissolving into atoms and dissipating into the air. Rakzan stood on his command barge, the fear and hatred of the star god assailing his circuits. Countless flyers and warships slid over his head, launching all their weapons at the monster that was tearing the planet apart.

They were going to win, but the cost would be very heavy. Rakzan could clearly sense that the Dynasty's few remaining nobles were commanding from safe ships. They were the last hope of the Szarekhan...

A dynasty with only a Phaeron is useless, it will inevitably collapse. Biotransference removed the minds of most of the lower citizens, only the nobles can build a dynasty—

Suddenly, a noble's signal disappeared. A trace of panic flashed through Rakzan's circuits.

"Nussa! What's going on!?"

He tried to contact the Overlord's Royal Guard, but the other party's message seemed to be blocked, with only a vague signal.

"Ship... Assassin... Phaeron... trap..."

"What!?"

"...He claims to be a Godhunter, but he's just a wretch, a madman who came here. I easily captured his ship and him. My lord, he is a pathetic madman, perhaps he can provide you with some amusement, or of course, you can execute him directly..."