Chapter 411: Don't You Eldar Have Your Own Gods?
"For the ancient Aeldari, the cycle of life was endless. The satisfaction of desire and the peaceful departure were a ceaseless cycle, for they knew their souls would always return to the world. The birth of Slaanesh, the Dark God, broke this cycle forever. These once-great interstellar pioneers now wander in the shadows, afraid to embrace complete emotions for fear of their own desires, and they deserve it."
— Ahzek Ahriman
Craftworld Biel-Tan
The name of this Craftworld meant "Rebirth of Ancient Days" in the Aeldari tongue.
As a Craftworld far from the Eye of Terror, existing in a relatively peaceful sector, these Eldar, who hadn't suffered much beating from various galactic powers, were the most radical and arrogant even among the already arrogant Eldar.
Harboring discrimination against other "lesser races" and intense xenophobia, their emotional expression was more vivid than other Craftworld Eldar, making them look more like their cousins in the Dark City.
Biel-Tan proclaimed themselves the watchers of Maiden Worlds. On those primitive planets, they ensured the Exodites lived in harmony with nature and actively communicated with them. After death, their ancestors merged with the World Spirit of the planet itself, becoming part of Craftworld Biel-Tan in the future.
The people of Biel-Tan revered their ancestors, cultivated new blood, and actively sought out exiled branches. The militant Biel-Tan believed that when the Aeldari rose again, these worlds would become seeds for the flourishing of a new order.
While many Craftworlds thought Biel-Tan was delusional, given the current Eldar birth rate and the disastrous state of the warp, struggling was nothing but a fool's dream.
But the Biel-Tan were not deterred by these naysayers. They held fast to their beliefs, confident that a great power would lead them to rise again, conquer the galaxy, and believed in the day of Aeldari resurgence.
"Damn thieves! Traitors! Liars!"
At this moment, blue shuriken fire flew. The Autarch of Biel-Tan was leading Warlocks and Striking Scorpions in pursuit of the damn thieves.
His face was exposed to the atmosphere. Even without a War Mask, visible anger could be seen on his face.
"Return the remains of Farseer Biel and Farseer Tantia to us!"
Under his command, a steady stream of Eldar assault troops poured out along the Webway, even including Wraithlord war constructs.
Ahead of them, Ulthran, carrying a Crystal Seer on his shoulder alongside Trazyn, strode forward, running head down.
With unscrupulous use of psychic enhancement, this body burst out with power far greater than a vehicle.
The combat force, originally sufficient to conquer a human colony, was stretched into a line. Because the Farseers were still in the hands of the two thieves, they seemed stretched in this slightly narrow passage.
Finally, Ulthran spoke to explain.
"Farseer Biel made a pact with me. She asked me to take her away from you at a certain moment in the future and make the best use of her. Nothing is more important than this."
Ulthran's voice was solemn.
"I have foreseen it."
"(Biel-Tan profanity!)"
Foreseen my ass. This is just to please your new master.
The Biel-Tan Farseer who arrived later was furious.
Everyone within the Craftworld Eldar knew that a bunch of traitors had appeared among them in recent years. Many scattered Eldar always received a bunch of inexplicable messages, and then ran directly to the Dawnstar Sector with their followers and talents.
No one knew exactly what happened in the end. Only that some Craftworlds inexplicably gained a lot of disposable resources. Inexplicably, a human force began to wander in the Webway, indiscriminately eliminating any race that dared to obstruct the smooth flow of the Webway. The Webway environment from the entire Dawnstar Sector to most parts of the Obscurus Segmentum improved significantly in just a few decades.
These humans built military facilities at some node areas to transport urgent military supplies, while those Eldar ate the Emperor's grain, and even set up checkpoints with humans to collect tolls from various Craftworlds!
Now he knew exactly which Craftworld did it.
It was Ulthwé.
The Biel-Tan Farseer looked at Eldrad Ulthran not far ahead. In the Eldar vision, he could see golden streamers surrounding the old Farseer like willow catkins. He could identify this as the clumsy and low-level power of faith of those monkeys.
"You have no right to decide the fate of our race without authorization, nor to interfere in the affairs of gods, acting as the proxy of divine will. You are not a god, Eldrad Ulthran. You are not even worthy of being an Aeldari. You should have joined your crystal kin long ago."
As if stimulated by something, the Farseer uttered harsh words, emphasizing repeatedly, then extended a hand, releasing a spell interfering with soul and will.
Ulthran's figure blurred for a moment; the spell passed right through him.
Trazyn, who had run a distance while the two sides were bickering, paused, then flew backward a large distance as if grabbed by an invisible hand.
"?"
Ulthran casually scooped up the tesseract labyrinth from Trazyn's hand, ignoring the metal fragments exploding around him. That figure, which could be called agile even by Eldar standards, seemed so energetic at this moment.
This made the anger in the Biel-Tan Farseer's heart burn even stronger.
After swinging his Witchblade to completely shatter the ancient enemy who was inexplicably affected by the spell, the Farseer broke away from the team angrily and moved forward.
"You are next, Eldrad. Your clumsy and despicable faith has plunged you into true depravity, and now, it cannot protect your life."
He shouted, using psychic power unsparingly. The restraint that should exist in an Eldar civil war was thrown aside. The Witchblade went straight for the vitals, as if eager to prove something.
His words were filled with extraordinary killing intent. If they weren't in the Webway at this moment, relying on the strong connection between Eldar and the warp, this emotion alone would attract the gaze of the Dark Prince and the Blood God.
Ulthran parried the blade swung by the opponent again, then swung his singing spear to sweep the opponent's legs, trying to disable him.
But because he was still holding the Crystal Seer, his movements were slightly slower.
"Better than some who have nothing to believe in."
A voice sounded.
Ulthran, prepared to be wounded, finally breathed a sigh of relief.
He stopped running, relaxing his body completely, then turned around, looking at the Farseer in front of him very calmly.
Whoosh!
The Biel-Tan Farseer's hostile attack finally landed on empty air.
"..."
Through the opponent's War Mask, Ulthran saw this expression on the face of his former compatriot for the first time.
It was an expression of anger, jealousy, and multiple twisted emotions, kneaded onto one face when an completely unbelievable event came true.
A fire called hysteria burst out from the narrow eyes, along with a scream like a high-pressure balloon being punctured, frantically venting pressure outward.
Perhaps this Farseer was more suitable to be a Howling Banshee.
He thought so.
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