"Gathering all five Croneswords can awaken the God of the Dead. As for who gathers them, to you Eldar, it really doesn't matter."
Zeke pointed out the Eldar's little scheme.
Yvraine tacitly agreed. The Eldar did indeed harbor this ulterior motive, even fearing that after Zeke collected all five, he would be killed by the summoned God of the Dead.
"I'll put it this way: the down payment is two Croneswords." Zeke looked at the waist of the red-armored warrior, the Visarch.
Afterward, Guilliman stepped up to double-team with Zeke, engaging in a battle of words with Yvraine that would make even the most cunning politicians sweat.
The plan was finalized: Zeke would first showcase the space capable of freeing them from Slaanesh, and Yvraine would use the first two Croneswords as payment for this.
As for the remaining Croneswords, that would have to wait until Zeke showed further sincerity.
"Very fair. I never expected to become a real estate agent in Warhammer. The Nether you want to see, we can go there right now."
Zeke didn't delay and immediately built a Nether Portal.
"Come, VIPs of the house-viewing tour," Zeke made an inviting gesture. "Allow me to introduce you to the Nether dimension—spanning who knows how many millions of hectares, featuring top-tier natural lighting, a constant year-round temperature, and an open-air magma pool included."
Constant year-round temperature, but maintained at a hundred degrees Celsius, huh, Guilliman thought as he listened to Zeke's introduction.
"You two stay here," Yvraine stopped the Visarch, who looked as if he wanted to say something.
"Be careful," the Visarch reminded Yvraine.
Zeke was a bit surprised; he had always assumed this big red statue secretly in love with Yvraine was a mute.
Yvraine then stepped through the portal alone with Zeke.
Separated by a single door lay two completely different landscapes.
Coming to Nether for the first time, even though Yvraine was mentally prepared, she was still so startled that she lost her grip on the Cronesword in her hand, letting it drop to the ground. If she hadn't been fast enough, Zeke would have already picked it up.
This was definitely not the Warp, nor was it like the materium.
"I really can't feel it anymore," Yvraine murmured to herself. Here, she truly no longer felt that ever-present, shadow-like prying gaze. Slaanesh couldn't reach its hands into this place.
"Of course not," Zeke said as he introduced the place, casually glancing around. He hadn't seen the mortal Dante in a long time, and he wondered how he was doing in Nether.
After looking around, he didn't find Dante, but he did spot the Piglin Vergil. The traces of someone living nearby were obvious. Knowing Dante was fine, Zeke didn't pay it too much mind. After the Eldar moved in, he would still have to notify him.
"It's better than I imagined, human," Yvraine turned around. "I think our transaction can proceed to the next stage."
The Eldar's racial adaptability was certainly stronger than humans'; this little environment in Nether wouldn't be enough to deter them.
"Then everyone is happy."
The two stepped out of the portal together. Yvraine contacted the Eldar advisors stationed on Macragge, and a squad of Eldar quickly arrived, stepping cautiously into the portal.
"Don't mess around in there, I'm warning you," Zeke let them pass.
These days, having to inspect a house before buying it was indeed troublesome, but considering the client offered a high price, Zeke put up with it.
"This black doorframe can achieve cross-spatial teleportation, which is actually quite similar to our Webway. You humans must have relied on this to achieve such rapid development, right?" Yvraine looked at the frame of the Nether Portal, feeling a bit envious; this was much handier than the Webway.
"That's none of your business." Zeke said.
"Could you build one on our Craftworld to allow for better access to Nether?"
"No," Zeke flatly refused. "If you want to enter Nether, come line up on Macragge. Don't test my patience; hand over the Croneswords."
Seeing she couldn't get anything more out of Zeke, Yvraine dropped the subject and drew the slender, sharp sword hanging at her waist.
A desolate wail echoed through the hall.
"According to Eldar epics, the Crone Goddess Morai-Heg, seeking ultimate wisdom, tricked the War God Khaine into severing one of her hands. The Smith God Vaul used the five fingers of that severed hand to forge the five Croneswords." Yvraine reluctantly handed over the hilt. "This is one of them: Kha-vir, the Sword of Sorrows."
"Thanks for going through the trouble of giving me the weakest of the five first," Zeke took the longsword, laughing inwardly.
The base damage was 50+, and the affixes showed that this Sword of Sorrows had the effect of turning victims to ash and absorbing enemies' power. It could be considered a top-tier weapon in Warhammer. Used in combination with enchantments, the effects would be even better.
"And also..." Yvraine signaled the red-armored warrior Visarch to step forward and drew the sword at his waist. "Asu-var, the Sword of Silent Screams. I obtained this sword from the wraithbone skeleton of the Craftworld Biel-Tan, and entrusted it to the Visarch for safekeeping."
The second sword was placed before Zeke.
"To be honest, you Eldar are much more straightforward than I imagined." Having gotten what he wanted, Zeke was willing to throw a couple of compliments at the Eldar, considering they would be cooperating further.
"The Farseer's prophecies are never wrong. Rather than fighting the flood, it's better to flow with it," Yvraine said with a drawn-out tone, watching Zeke stow away the two divine swords. "Many tragedies occur because the people involved try to stop the prophecy, which ironically completes the final link of destiny."
"That is probably the only time I will praise your Eldar sayings," Zeke placed the two Croneswords into his backpack. "So, why are you guys still standing here?" Zeke looked at Yvraine and made a gesture to see the guests out. "Either leave Macragge, or follow that Eldar squad to go check out your new home in Nether. Anyway, take care and see yourselves out."
"Can we stay and witness with our own eyes how you plan to handle those two holy swords?"
"Should I also demonstrate to you how I ate a Rotten Flesh Sandwich and a Fermented Spider Eye this morning?" Zeke issued his final eviction order in a bad mood.
Guilliman was suspicious. Zeke, what you ate this morning doesn't sound quite right...
"I call it recalling past miseries to appreciate present sweetness. Having eaten too many good things, I wanted to eat something bad to neutralize it."
Faced with Zeke's eviction order, Yvraine knew she couldn't force the issue. She had no choice but to step through the Webway with complex emotions, disappearing into the shadows of Macragge.
The hall returned to solemnity.
Guilliman put away his combat stance, and Zeke pulled out a Crafting Table.
Zeke placed the Reaper's Scythe and the two Croneswords onto the Crafting Table in order, and crafted them.
--
Goal = 1000 Powerstones.