A strangling net made of molecular-level serrations descended from the ceiling, each metal wire vibrating at high frequency, enough to cut through adamantium armor like thin paper.
In knox's supernormal vision, the energy trajectories of these deadly traps were clearly marked.
Knox figure, comparable to that of the Imperial Guard, elegantly weaved through the hail of bullets, each dodge precise to the millimeter, as if performing a meticulously choreographed dance of death.
His movements were fluid, as calm and unhurried as a fish playing in water.
A hint of annoyance flashed in Farseer Sal's cold eyes.
The Eldar's innate precognitive ability activated suddenly, his figure turning into an afterimage on the spot, and in an instant, he had flickered behind Knox, his psychic blade cutting through the air, emitting a piercing shriek directly at his back.
"Too slow."
A surge of dark light erupted in Knox eyes, and Farseer Sal's sure-kill strike only shattered an afterimage of knox.
Almost simultaneously, the roar of a bolter exploded in Farseer Sal's ear; he barely managed to turn his head to dodge, but the scorching ballistic airflow still left a charred mark on his flawless cheek.
For an Eldar, this was even more infuriating than death.
The two were like chess players clashing on a four-dimensional board, each offense and defense causing the energy readings in the secret chamber to skyrocket wildly.
The Necron Construct emitted a piercing alarm due to overload, and fine cracks spread like a spiderweb across the Blackstone walls.
This battle, beyond mortal comprehension, was pushing this ancient ruin to the brink of collapse.
A trace of surprise flashed in Knox eyes.
That scepter, inlaid with spirit-bone gems, was indeed extraordinary; the psychic shield it constructed could even block the scrutiny of the Soul-Seizing Eye.
Were it not for this, the battle would have already been decided; he didn't think these flamboyant long-eared creatures hadn't committed any sins.
"Disgusting short-lived creatures."
Farseer Sal's voice was tinged with a trembling impatience for the first time; the continuous high-intensity psychic consumption made his figure appear slightly dim.
The Blackstone Construct's anti-psychic field was still eroding his strength.
He suddenly pulled back with an elegant leap, tapping the ground lightly with his scepter, precisely releasing control over the geometric structure.
With a crisp "click," the scepter was precisely inserted into a hidden groove in the ground.
A dangerous smile appeared on Farseer Sal's flawless face: "Now, let me show you the Eldar true art of war..."
As the scepter's psychic light flickered, the pre-arranged Webway rift suddenly opened, a swirling vortex of psychic energy tearing a hideous wound in the secret chamber.
This was clearly a meticulously designed trap; Farseer Sal had laid this trump card long before knox arrival, just waiting for the crucial moment to close the net.
Six Howling Banshees in shadow armor were the first to leap out of the Webway; their Laughing God masks appeared especially grotesque in the psychic vortex, and the arcing electricity on their neuro-blades emitted an eerie hum.
Closely following them was a complete Eldar assault squad: the Rangers' shuriken weapons were fully charged, and the psychic turrets controlled by the Warlocks were emitting a dangerous hum.
Knox narrowed his eyes.
Such a meticulous deployment indicated that these long-ears had been plotting for this artifact for an unknown duration.
They had even hidden an entire elite force near the ruins, just to deal with such "pleasant surprises" as the current situation.
Farseer Sal's face was like a frozen lake, psychic energy solidifying into tangible frost around him.
"Inferior beings."
His voice was like a death knell from the depths of the Webway.
"Now, you shall personally experience the final chapter of the Eldar art of war, with your flesh as ink and your soul as paper."
"Calling for backup?"
Knox revealed a mocking smile, a cold, dark light swirling in his palm as an Netherworld Seal slowly materialized.
"What a coincidence, I have quite a few contacts too."
With a grating sound of spatial tearing, the veil of reality was violently ripped open, revealing a hideous gap.
The first thing to emerge was a ghost-head saber glowing with an eerie blue ghostly flame, the Nether energy Entanglement around its blade causing the surrounding air to congeal.
Next, heavy footsteps caused the ground to tremble slightly.
Ox-Head and Horse-Face stepped out of the void, the Nether Energy entwined around their giant axe and soul-locking chain actually dimming the Eldar's psychic weapons.
In the surging black mist, hundreds of Nether soldiers could vaguely be seen arrayed and ready, their silence chilling, with only the cold metallic clang of their armor breaking the stillness.
Farseer Sal's flawless face showed clear agitation for the first time: "This is... some unrecorded Warp entity?"
What disturbed him even more was that the Nether Energy emanating from the two Ox-Head and Horse-Face generals caused his proud precognitive ability to experience unprecedented disorder, like a shattered mirror of foresight.
The battle erupted in an instant.
Ox-Head's giant axe, imbued with Netherworld power, crashed down; a Howling Banshee, directly in its path, barely dodged with a psychic teleport, but the residual force of the axe blade tore spiderweb-like cracks in space.
The other five Howling Banshees let out piercing shrieks, their neuro-blades weaving a net of death to envelop Ox-Head.
Horse-Face's soul-locking chain moved through the battlefield like a living creature; the Eldar Warlocks' turrets unleashed psychic bombardments at it, but they vanished upon contact with the chain, like mud oxen entering the sea.
The Nether soldiers and Eldar Rangers tangled in a fierce struggle; shuriken weapons dispersed several Nether soldiers into black mist, but these Netherworld warriors reformed their bodies in the mist in an instant.
Farseer Sal's flawless face was now twisted like a demon, a psychic storm raging around him.
This damned human—the plan that should have been seamless, the artifact that should have been within reach, now all were in jeopardy because of this unexpected variable.
Knox calmly assessed the rapidly changing battle situation.
The Eldar warriors displayed astonishing combat power under psychic enhancement, actually fighting evenly with the Nether soldiers, a stark contrast to the overwhelming victories against lower-tier demons in the past.
However, the two generals, Ox-Head and Horse-Face, still held an overwhelming advantage.
After only two or three exchanges, Ox-Head's giant axe cut a Howling Banshee in half at the waist, and Horse-Face's soul-locking chain pierced through the chests of two psychic warlocks like a venomous snake.
If Farseer Sal hadn't continuously interfered with the battle with his exquisite psychic abilities, these Eldar warriors would have collapsed even faster.
After all, these two generals were formidable figures that even Chaos Greater Daemons would avoid.
Time became exceptionally precious for both sides.
Knox secretly calculated the possible reinforcement time for Toren's squad, while also calculating the duration of the Nether soldiers and Nether generals' existence.
These "temporary workers" from the Netherworld weren't working for free; every moment they stayed longer meant an additional "Nether energy" payment.
This transaction had to be carefully calculated.
And Farseer Sal felt a deeper crisis, some completely unpredictable variable was approaching.
Just at the most intense moment of the battle, the entire ruin suddenly trembled violently.
A dazzling Green phase beam pierced through the dome of the secret chamber like a divine punishment, illuminating the battlefield with a sickly green light.