The Warmaster glanced at Tenjiro and his companions, deciding to finish this battle first before checking the mission.
He turned his head to Yvraine, tapping his shield a few times with his sword.
"Sons of Dorn never fear a challenge."
This statement greatly increased Amaric's and Dreadnought Sard's good impression of the Warmaster.
Black Templars and Star Realm Knights were both successor Battle Groups of the Imperial Fists.
The Warmaster's words clearly resonated deeply with them.
Yvraine walked into the gladiatorial arena.
She was very tall, dressed in ceremonial armor, and held a common longsword.
The Warmaster's expression was solemn as he assumed a combat stance, staring intently at her.
Yvraine's face was exquisite, possessing an artistic beauty.
Her eyes were as deep as a dark pool, seemingly capable of piercing through souls.
She was born on the craftworld Biel-Tan.
In her youth, she embarked on the Path of the Dancer with the dream of becoming a dancer.
Later, discovering her considerable psychic potential, she switched to the Path of the Seer, becoming a Battle Seer.
Even later, feeling her own capriciousness and a certain violent bloodlust, she turned to the Path of the Warrior, becoming an Avenger.
She even spent some time as a pirate, before an accident stranded her in the Drukhari / Dark Aeldari's main stronghold—Gomorrah.
There, she joined a Witch Cult.
Under the protection of Lady Malys, a powerful subordinate of Vect, the Overlord of Gomorrah, she became a Succubus, an elite ruler of the Witch Cult.
Yvraine earned a reputation for her exquisite martial arts.
Malys, sensing her potential, had her participate in gladiatorial combat alongside the gladiator queen Lelith and captives from numerous races such as Tyranids / Tyranid, Ork, Necron, and T'au.
It was an unprecedented gladiatorial event, attracting countless Drukhari / Dark Aeldari to watch.
During the gladiatorial combat, Yvraine made a mistake and was run through the chest by Lelith's sword, ultimately perishing in the arena.
However, it was this death that earned her the blessing of the Eldar God of the Dead, thus becoming an emissary of the God of the Dead.
The Warmaster advanced with his shield, intending to test Yvraine.
She did not attack but dodged to the side.
The Warmaster quickly turned, facing her with his shield.
"You are very vigilant," Yvraine said, circling the Warmaster.
The Warmaster also adjusted himself, ensuring his shield was always facing her.
If he left an opening, he could very likely be instantly killed by her.
Yvraine looked relaxed; she was not in a hurry to act.
"The combination of shield and sword can maximally counter fast and agile opponents."
"Your choice is very correct.
If you were facing a conventional opponent, your chances of winning would be very high."
"The problem is that many enemies in this universe possess unconventional means."
"For example, this..."
Suddenly, two figures of Yvraine appeared, one on the left and one on the right, simultaneously swinging their swords at the Warmaster.
The Warmaster used his shield to block the attack from the right and his sword to block the left.
Clang!
Sword and shield collided, producing a resounding clang.
The Yvraine on the left dissipated into smoke.
"A very wise decision, but not enough."
The Yvraine who had dissipated into smoke on the left reappeared, sweeping a whip kick at his knee joint, forcing him to his knees.
Before the Warmaster could get up, Yvraine's sword was at his throat.
"You lost."
"Your reaction was too slow.
The moment you knelt, you should have rolled with the momentum, then created distance before counterattacking, not tried to get up."
The entire battle lasted only two minutes.
The Players watching wailed in disappointment, regretting that the Warmaster couldn't defeat Yvraine.
But thinking about it, it was normal; Yvraine could make a name for herself in Gomorrah and was an emissary of the God of the Dead.
If she lost to the Warmaster, then the Eldar would truly be finished.
"You did very well."
Amaric walked over and helped the Warmaster up.
"In a while, you will definitely be able to defeat her."
Remembering Sard's words that God Chosen liked rewards, especially holy relics, Amaric decided to give him some motivation.
"If you can defeat that Eldar Seer, I promise to let you enter the Black Templars' relic vault to choose a weapon."
The Warmaster's eyes instantly lit up, "Really?"
"Of course, Sons of Dorn never break their oaths," Amaric nodded.
The wailing Players outside were instantly dumbfounded.
"No way, is this guy really that lucky?"
"All lucky people should die."
"I want one too," Twisted person said, shamelessly approaching Amaric.
Amaric scrutinized Twisted person, "Are you also a Sons of Dorn?"
"Yes, I am a Death Guard splinter of the Sons of Dorn."
Twisted person's words made the surrounding Players roll their eyes.
"For a small reward, you've lost all your backbone."
"Mortarion would be heartbroken to hear you say that!"
Tenjiro condemned Twisted person with a look of contempt.
Amaric placed his hand on Twisted person's shoulder.
"If you insist on challenging, you can."
"If you can honorably defeat that emissary of the God of the Dead, I will likewise let you enter the Black Templars' relic vault to choose your desired reward."
"Grand Marshal Amaric, hello, I am a Thousand Sons splinter of the Sons of Dorn, please take care of me."
Tenjiro's tone suddenly shifted, losing his previous righteous demeanor.
The surrounding Players scorned him, truly a case of being arrogant before and obsequious after, utterly shameful.
If Magnus and Ahriman knew, they would probably have a brain hemorrhage from anger.
But the next second, they surrounded Amaric, introducing themselves.
"I am a Luna Wolves splinter of the Sons of Dorn."
"I am a World Eaters splinter."
"I am a Word Bearers spli-"
"I am Alpharius..."
...
The gladiatorial arena became noisy, with Players surrounding Amaric, wanting to accept the mission.
Amaric couldn't even break free.
In the end, he could only announce that the top ten God Chosen who defeated Yvraine would receive a reward.
Everyone can enter the Black Templars' reliquary and choose their desired prize.
The rest will receive consolation prizes and medals of honor from the Black Templars.
After the little interlude at the gladiatorial arena,
the Warmaster, Tenjiro, and others discussed the task that the Guide had just released.
"Are we going to Sotha? There's the Pharos Lighthouse there, and the Guide has Cortana, who can analyze Necron technology. He must be heading for the Pharos Lighthouse."
Zhuge hit the nail on the head.
The Bald Donkey scratched his head, "The Guide isn't an NPC, so why is he doing all the protagonist's work? Shouldn't we be the protagonists?"
"Otherwise, how could it be called a 100% realistic game? If the Guide didn't push various plots, the officials would be afraid you'd say it was bland," the Warmaster said.
"The Warmaster is right. The Warhammer Universe spans decades, even centuries. It's unrealistic to make Players wait that long."
"The Guide has always been pushing the plot, allowing our efforts to be rewarded in a timely manner, increasing playability."
Tenjiro agreed with the Warmaster's statement.
Sea Turtle, of the Luna Wolves, opened his mouth to ask,
"Are you going?"
"I'm not going," the Warmaster shook his head. "I need to hone my combat skills. That Lucius guy probably hates me to death."
"As long as he finds an opportunity, he'll definitely cut me into a human stick and then severely humiliate me. I can't stand that, so I have to figure out a way to deal with him."
"I'm not going either," the Bald Donkey said. "I'm currently grinding for Ultramarines' favorability to see if I can get into their reliquary."
"I'm going," Tenjiro clenched his fists, his face resolute.
"I'm going to follow the Guide and relentlessly grind for favorability."
"I'm going to let him know that no matter when, as long as he turns around, I'll be there."
"Are you using your dating skills on the Guide?" the Bald Donkey rolled his eyes.
"You don't understand. Licking women leads to nothing. Licking the Guide, in the future, you'll have everything."
Tenjiro chuckled.
"Just imagine, when Guilliman returns to Holy Terra (Earth/Reality), he'll definitely delegate power to the Guide."
"At that time, the Guide will think of me serving him diligently, working tirelessly, dedicating myself wholeheartedly, dying without regret, seeking no reward, dedicating myself completely, and taking responsibility—"
"Hey! Hey! Are you treating this as a proverb recitation class? There's a limit to how much you can praise yourself!" Sea Turtle interrupted Tenjiro.
"If I don't describe myself more, how can I show how excellent I am! You're just jealous of me. When I'm entrusted with important tasks by the Guide, don't you dare be envious."
Tenjiro raised his head, already fantasizing about his wonderful life in the future.
"..."
While the Old Players were discussing the mission, some busybody sent the mission content to the official website forum.
Guilliman is the Only Sun: "My heart has long been calm. Regarding this, I just want to say, 'Hmm, the progress is quite good, keep up the good work.'"
Dora is the Lord of Myriad Machines: "Old Thirteen has finally given up, seen through the mortal world, and is no longer attached."
Chosen Llama: "What's there to be sad about? It'll be open beta eventually anyway."
MC Myth: "Wuwu, leave some plot for the kids."
"..."
Learning that Alex was going to Sotha, Cawl suggested going together.
He was also interested in the Pharos Lighthouse.
Cawl also persuaded an Adeptus Mechanicus fleet to join the operation, providing them with logistical support.
With Alex in command, the Warp journey was exceptionally smooth.
The group quickly arrived at Sotha.
Sotha was once a planet suitable for life, but now it was lifeless.
The Tyranids had plundered all organic matter, turning it into a barren rock.
A damaged space station hung isolated at the high point of Sotha's equator.
When Alex and others arrived at the space station,
the Emperor's Scythes warriors, having received the news, were already lined up on the tarmac, waiting.
Even though they already knew that the Emperor's Scythes were on the verge of annihilation due to the Second Tyrannic War,
it was only when they truly appeared before them that they could truly realize how difficult the situation of this Warband was.
The Emperor's Scythes had 13 warriors remaining,
wearing power armor pieced together from different models of armor.
Many parts clearly weren't compatible at first glance, but had been forcibly used after grinding.
"As expected of brothers in misfortune who can be ranked alongside the Lamenters, they're this miserable."
"Don't they even have a complete suit of power armor?"
"Alas, how pitiful. Even their gene-seed has been corrupted. I really don't know what this Warband will do?"
"What can they do? They'll be rebuilt with Primaris eventually."
The Players discussed the Emperor's Scythes warriors in the communication channel.
Alex glanced at the helmet's parameters.
The air here was breathable, and although the temperature was very low, it was tolerable.
He took off his helmet, revealing his face.
Chapter Master Thracian of the Emperor's Scythes looked at the noble face of the person before him and bowed slightly.
"I am the Chapter Master of the Emperor's Scythes. Welcome, Saint of the Emperor."
The Emperor's Scythes warriors behind Thracian also bowed in salute.
They had already received relevant videos of the Macragge ceremony and learned the identity of the visitor.
Thinking of the Macragge ceremony, a wave of sorrow welled up in Thracian's heart.
If not for that humiliating secret, perhaps they could have met their gene-father.
But alas, it was impossible.
For the honor of the Warband, they had to erase this stain.
Perhaps the Emperor's Scythes Warband would have its designation revoked,
but that was better than continuing to exist under scrutiny and suspicion.