For the Aeldari, an ancient race that had once flourished but had now become rarely seen, the Imperial scholars' research was rife with conflicting theories.
Though there was no doubt that this race, which had once dominated the galaxy for tens of millions of years, had completely fallen into decline. They had utterly lost the imposing strength they had possessed thousands of years ago when they fought the Human Federation.
During that mad age, the Human Federation waged a prolonged war against the Aeldari Empire, yet neither side could do anything to the other.
The Human Federation's muscleman rewound time, while the Aeldari Empire reversed cause and effect. The two powerhouses fought until the stars themselves were extinguished, only to check the final score and find it was 0–0. It had all been special effects, with not the slightest actual damage dealt, leaving them no choice but to cease hostilities and face each other in a standoff.
And just as they were locked in that standoff, the Iron Men Rebellion erupted within the Human Federation. They beat each other senseless, and after finally winning, they wanted to recuperate—only for an unprecedented Warp storm to sweep in and usher in the Old Night.
As for the Aeldari Empire, they were even more absurd. They abandoned tens of millions of years of peaceful living, stayed cooped up at home throwing orgies every day, and indulged in every depravity imaginable thanks to their immortality. Even immolating themselves inside stars was merely child's play.
The Aeldari's reckless behavior would have been bad enough on its own, but they directly nurtured a Big Daddy named Slaanesh, causing their already filthy cesspit to explode completely. They even awakened the other three treasures, nearly wiping out the entire Aeldari race and leaving behind only a few survivors struggling to cling to life.
Thus, with the aid of the C'tan, the Necrons, and the Aeldari, the Sea of Souls, once hailed as blessed by the consciousness of the grand universe, was utterly beyond salvation.
But what disappointed Mordred even more was the Aeldari's appearance.
Unlike the elves in other fantasy works, the Aeldari were humanoid as well, but they were tall and lanky, thin as bean sprouts, with their muscles stretched into threads. Even if their faces were fairly attractive, they had no breasts! That was what Mordred found most unacceptable.
Watching the Primarch before her drift off into his thoughts again, Kialan finally couldn't take it anymore. She ignored the Space Marines' murderous stares and reached out to rap her knuckles on the table.
"Your Highness, you said you wanted to pay more, so why don't you name your price? I've already had three glasses of orange juice. You haven't said a word and have been staring at me the whole time, sighing nonstop. What are you doing?"
If she hadn't needed something from him, Kialan would have slipped away long ago. Mordred's gaze made her hair stand on end, and it was full of mockery.
Even the Aeldari couldn't endure being given the cold shoulder. Once he came back to himself, Mordred looked slightly awkward—but his flexible moral boundaries prevented him from feeling too embarrassed.
"Since you've asked so sincerely, I'll magnanimously tell you. I'm waiting for the right time. Don't ask why I'm waiting for the right time. If you want the Golden Tree, that's fine, but you have to exchange it for the technology to open the Webway Gate."
"Impossible!" Kialan rejected him without even thinking.
"Your Highness, since you know about the Webway, you should understand what it means to us Aeldari. Name another condition. This one truly won't do!"
Kialan was right. As the only safe and stable method of hyperspace travel still in existence, the Webway was unquestionably the lifeline of the Aeldari. Even the Emperor's launch of the Great Crusade was meant to pave the way for the Human Webway Project.
If she really leaked the technology for opening the Webway, the first person to die would be Kialan herself. Every Aeldari would do everything in their power to kill her, this Aeldari traitor.
But Mordred had fixed his sights on that condition and refused to let it go. He wanted the Webway technology. "I don't care. Without the Webway technology, I won't make the trade.
"And let me tell you this as well: if you don't hand over the Webway technology, I'll sacrifice these souls to Slaanesh. You wouldn't want to watch your own kind get captured and turned into Star Slaves, would you?"
The instant Mordred mentioned that unspeakable name, Kialan broke out in a cold sweat like a furious stray cat, shouting:
"Are you insane? That is an absolute red line that must never be touched! You humans are all this crazy. You have no idea what this means! Stupid, shortsighted, barbaric!"
"Tch! I'm not an Aeldari. You brought this disaster upon yourselves, and now you're trying to shift the blame."
Seeing that the other side still refused to yield, Mordred stopped pretending to be a good person. He summoned a Pink Horror from the Ashen Herald and shoved it straight into Kialan's arms.
The other Atlases also summoned their own Demon Pals, joining forces with these underlings to surround the Pointy-ears completely.
Such a terrifying scene made the Aeldari delegation tremble all over. Their previous arrogance vanished without a trace, and the fear rising from the depths of their souls left them wanting only to escape.
But entering was easy and leaving was hard. Atlas, who had prepared long ago, stepped forward and pulled out shackles, binding these aliens who had dared to show off in front of them.
Only Kialan managed to remain relatively composed, though her former leisurely demeanor was gone. She was genuinely afraid that this group of lunatics would draw Slaanesh here. By then, what use would a Flesh Construct be? She truly wouldn't even be able to die if she wanted to.
"Your Highness—no, my lord, let's talk this out. Could you please take it back? I can't speak like this!"
How could Mordred, who had probably spent time with the Emperor, possess such a thing as a moral bottom line? He sneered sarcastically.
"What? Now you know how to talk things out? Don't think I didn't notice. From the moment you entered, you've been showing off in front of me. There isn't even a soul inside this body, yet you still expect me to treat you nicely.
"Kia! I'm quite pleased that you call me Your Highness, but I really dislike this arrogance of yours that came from God knows where.
"I'll give you three minutes. If I don't see your real self, I can't even imagine what kind of madness I might commit.
"Tell me, if I used your name to casually sacrifice an Ark World, using those thirteen thousand seven hundred and twenty-four souls, do you think I could destroy an entire Ark World?"
Mordred's words drilled into Kialan's soul like venomous snakes. She had now completely confirmed that the giant before her was a madman. This so-called World-shaking giant who loved life was all a lie.
Negotiation was clearly impossible. That left only the backup plan.
"Are you planning to activate the Virus Bomb inside your body?"
"How did you know?"
"Backup Hidden Energy—initi..."
Splat—
Two black claws pierced into her chest, and her beautiful head was bitten apart on the spot, ending this bean-sprout lord's final chance to resist.
Glancing at the headless corpse occupied by a Daemon, Mordred raised a finger and wiped the brain matter splattered across his face. Then he praised the Daemon he had just shoved over himself.
"Looks like you're not completely useless after all, Hill. Throw this body out. You know what to do."
A somewhat familiar voice rang out, still speaking the pleasing High Gothic with a hint of a Terra accent.
"As you command, my master. I will not fail the Legion's cultivation!"
At the same time, aboard a cloaked vessel far away in the Asteroid Belt, a slender body immersed in nutrient fluid suddenly opened its eyes. Its azure pupils instinctively widened as it let out a suppressed growl.
Kialan, who had finally regained consciousness, looked up and struggled out of the Incubation Pod. She had to escape as quickly as possible. She absolutely could not let that madman succeed.
Seeing no signs of any breach in the hull—only a hole in one compartment caused by unstable cabin pressure—Kialan regained her senses and staggered out of the Secret Room.
Yet the Aeldari failed to notice that a drop of blood was floating behind her, reflecting the figure known as Tom, the Midnight Wraith.
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