Chapter 161: My Friend Dies, but I Live Forever
"You probably can't kill me now."
Hearing the other's teasing tone, Ynnead's eyes flashed with unwillingness. What kind of situation was this?
"You are destined to die by my hand, even now!" Ynnead faced the entity, swinging her broken psychic blade. A dazzling light tore through the void, striking directly at the opponent.
But this attack was effortlessly blocked by Slaanesh with a raised hand. Then she flicked Ynnead's forehead hard with her other hand.
Bang.
A massive wave of pain struck. Ynnead froze in place, then roared furiously. "I came to kill you! You will pay for your arrogance!"
What greeted her was a massive slap imbued with endless chaotic power, which slammed directly into Ynnead's chest.
Ynnead's figure tumbled through the air. She managed to stabilize herself, but several deep cracks had already appeared on her armor. She brandished her psychic blade and charged again. Slaanesh easily defused every attack, while Slaanesh's counterattacks were like a furious storm.
Ynnead was like a deity in charge of a punching bag, constantly enduring the other's attacks. She firmly remembered Francis, all this humiliation was brought upon her by that scoundrel!
She was a God!
An astonishing aura erupted from her, instantly forcing the opponent back.
"Enough!" Ynnead stared at the opponent, unleashing a power of death. "Next time! I will definitely return!"
She roared, tearing open a rift, and then slipped inside.
Just as the opponent disappeared and Slaanesh was about to continue pursuing Francis, countless pre-arranged psychic cannon shells throughout the massive palace ignited instantly.
Boom!
A massive mushroom cloud rose from the ground. The original palace completely vanished.
Slaanesh: "..."
In the orbit of Cadia, a warp rift suddenly tore open. The Abyss's Roar burst forth like an enraged behemoth.
"May fellow Daoists die, but not this poor Daoist..." Francis kept muttering to himself. He'd almost lost his life this time! The warp was indeed too dangerous, truly terrifying!
Fortunately, he hadn't come away empty-handed. He looked at the longsword in his hand and felt it was worth it.
Magnus "..."
Just as Francis was calculating the losses from this expedition, Magnus's eye suddenly widened. He pointed at the distant void, his voice full of confusion. "What is that?"
Francis looked up, scanning through the warship's viewport. He saw a Necron warship silently floating in the shadow of the Blackstone Fortress.
That familiar metallic figure, Trazyn, stood on the surface of the fortress, waving his arms, seemingly trying to crack its defense system.
"That old man is stealing things!" Francis raised an eyebrow, a cold smirk playing on his lips.
"Stealthily follow him. I've already added anti-theft measures. Once he activates the first layer of security, we'll drag his ship away."
Upon receiving the order, the Abyss's Roar quietly approached.
After the opponent unlocked the first layer and entered the second stage, the Abyss's Roar quietly towed away the opponent's Necron warship, then just as quietly followed him inside.
Trazyn was seen continuously operating a subtly glowing screen, with a voice repeatedly echoing from the broadcast. "Incorrect answer! Incorrect answer! Incorrect answer!"
Just as Trazyn was frantically trying to crack the device, a large hand clapped him on the shoulder.
"Don't mess around! Haven't you heard of first-come, first-served? Watch out, or I'll blast you all!" Trazyn roared in irritation, shrugging his shoulder.
"Old man, you're not collecting Blackstones, but you're here to steal my ship! Are you not ashamed?" Francis said.
Hearing Francis's voice, Trazyn immediately stopped, then scratched his head and spoke, a bit embarrassed. "Isn't it because I have something to discuss with you? I couldn't reach you, so I came in to look. I saw that this place was old and in disrepair, so I thought I'd help you check it out."
Francis pouted, disdainfully saying, "You don't know anything. Some things are more valuable the older they get!"
Seeing everyone staring at Trazyn, he knew the ship-stealing plan had failed. He turned and walked toward the exit. "Ah! I suddenly remembered I have something else to do! I'll be leaving now..."
He hurried out. He hadn't expected this fellow to arrive so quickly. If he had known, he would have chosen a different time to attempt this. Now that this had happened, the other party would definitely be on guard, making it difficult to act. It seemed this treasure would slip through his fingers. Thinking of this, he shook his head helplessly, only able to go back and honestly wait until enough Blackstones were gathered.
But as soon as he reached the door, he froze. The Necron warship that had been floating there was gone!
"Where's my ship?" Trazyn stared blankly into deep space. How could a perfectly functional warship just vanish?
He immediately realized what had happened and turned to chase Francis. But when he turned back, he saw one of the internal checkpoints was missing.
He smoothly arrived at the control room and explained his reason for being there to Francis. It was clear they had hidden his ship.
"How is that possible! I didn't even see your ship. If you don't believe me, check the surveillance!" As Francis pulled up the surrounding surveillance footage, Trazyn found it was all static, showing nothing.
"It's broken! The ship thieves must have deliberately damaged the surveillance! Now we don't know who it was! This is truly outrageous!" Francis put on a show of righteous indignation, leaving Trazyn stunned.
"However, we are all friends, so how about this: I happen to have a warship, and I'll sell it to you cheaply. Only one-fifth of the Blackstone materials are from a Tomb World. How does that sound? Isn't that a great deal!"
Trazyn "...".
He hadn't expected the other party to be so cunning. Truly, there was always a stronger hand! Under Francis's intense gaze, Trazyn chose to go offline, collapsing stiffly to the ground.
Fortunately, he had come as a surrogate this time. Trading a Necron body for a warship was more than worth it!
Magnus's mouth twitched. "Is what we're doing really useful?"
"Ah, it should be useful! Originally, I wanted to take you to the garden, steal their soup cauldron, then spill the soup in the Brass Citadel and throw the pot into the Labyrinth of Change." Francis paused, analyzing the plan meticulously.
Magnus's mouth twitched uncontrollably. He couldn't see this as a good plan at all. This wasn't just licking blood from a knife's edge, it was French kissing a knife's edge!
"But, given the current situation, we really can't go there anymore. It's too dangerous! So we can only change our plan and return to Terra!" Francis continued speaking.
"Wait a minute! In their current state, returning to Terra won't work," Magnus interjected.
Following his gaze, Francis looked at the warriors who'd accompanied him into the warp.
All of them had suffered severe Flesh Change. Eight-legged or eight-armed individuals were not uncommon, and one Librarian even had another child's torso growing from his stomach, constantly muttering,
"Open your mind! Open your mind..."
Everyone "....".
"Let them guard this place and perform surgery on themselves. We'll take another group of people." Francis paused, then continued.
At this moment, Ahriman, the Chief Librarian of the Thousand Sons Legion, stepped forward and said with immense pride, "In fact, during this time, I have also been researching a method to resolve Flesh Change completely. I seem to have found a way to expel the chaotic forces that cause Flesh Change. As long as we perform a ritual..."
He hadn't finished speaking when Francis instantly felt a tingling sensation down his spine. He abruptly interrupted the other party, saying with extreme seriousness, "Don't! I know you are very eager to learn! But really, don't!"
Ahriman, not understanding, looked at Magnus, somewhat confused. "Why? Each relapse is too painful, and my method offers a permanent solution."
Although the Soul Drinkers' surgery could treat Flesh Change, in cases of re-infection, it would recur. Another surgery would be too painful and inconvenient.
Magnus remained silent. He fundamentally trusted Francis. If there truly was a psychic method to solve Flesh Change, how could he not know about it? Wouldn't that mean he was inferior to his own son?
"Ah, I have a way to solve your problem." Francis sighed, then assembled a large metal club from parts lying nearby.
"This is?" Ahriman frowned, not quite understanding. After all, this object was too heavy to be a staff, but perfect as a warhammer. But what did this have to do with the previous problem?
Francis gently stroked the large club, looking at the other party with a benevolent expression. "This object is called a Memory Corrector. It can help those who have fallen into Chaos find their true selves."
Immediately followed by a bang. The club directly struck Ahriman's head, and he instantly lost consciousness.
Magnus stared in shock.
"If you don't want your son to become an empty shell, lock him up first. We'll treat him later." Francis waved his hand, and soon after, a fresh batch of Soul Drinkers was assembled and ready.
He pulled out a portable Webway entrance. A dazzling rift tore open in space. The entire Blackstone Fortress suddenly jolted, then, like a thrown comet, it shot straight toward the rift.
Inside the Webway, dazzling lights and shadows filled the space, as if a river of stars flowed past. Space constantly shifted. The fortress rapidly traversed the Webway.
Francis was not thinking about matters on Terra.
Initially, he thought that with Gork and Mork present, his plan would be foolproof! But now, it seemed that relying entirely on them wouldn't work. Other Orks had clearly summoned them away.
If that was the case, perhaps he should establish a religion that worshipped him! But what should it be called?
On Terra, the Father of Nova of the Navigator family flew forth. His bloated body was already unable to stand. His rough, slimy skin shimmered with an eerie blue-green luster.
He was like a giant talking toad, except that a pair of enormous, deformed blue wings extended from his back. Each beat stirred up a bone-chilling psychic storm that overturned rubble and debris on the ground.
"Malcador! As long as you voluntarily destroy the Webway, we will withdraw our troops! We also don't want the Imperium to decline. As long as you are willing to destroy the Webway, we will stop our attack!"
[End of Chapter]
Want to read more than 50+ chapters right now!
patreon.com/cw/Mr_UmU
https://www.patreon.com/Mr_UmU
____
Want bonus chapters? You got it.
Goal: 350 – Achieved: 310 = 2 Bonus Chapters
📌 1 Power Stone on the Book Page = 100 on Chapter Pages!
!! VISIT the BOOK PAGE to donate your Power Stone.