Entering the Final Stage

The restoration project of Webway has come to an end.

Those passages that were once wantonly ruined by the Ancient Eldar nobles have become strong and smooth again under the joint efforts of Imperial Fists and Iron Warriors.

Psionic Energy Bricks were laid one after another, and Psionic Energy mortar was applied bucket after bucket. The walls of the once shaky passage were now thick enough to withstand the bombardment of battleship main guns.

Perturabo and Dorn are still competing. One is building a wall on the left and the other is plastering on the right. There is a freshly paved road in the middle. Neither of them is looking at the other, but the progress of each is ridiculously fast.

Guilliman and Asuryan stood on a newly built observation platform, looking at the workers who were finishing the work.

It is rare that there is no wind today. The air in Webway that is mixed with Psionic Energy dust and metallic smell looks particularly quiet under the light.

Guilliman It's rare that I didn't wear that black tuxedo today.

He wore a dark blue robe, a gold belt around his waist, and a pair of soft leather boots.

His hair was not combed back into a bun like usual, but was spread casually, with a few strands hanging down in front of his forehead.

He did not hold the quill in his hand, nor did he hold any parchment.

He just stood there, with his hands on the railing, looking at the Webway that was extending into the distance.

His fingers tapped lightly on the railing twice, the rhythm was very slow, as if he was thinking about something.

Asuryan stood next to him, holding the cup of black tea.

A layer of fine halo floats on the surface of the tea, which is the unique texture of the blend of Eldar Lingquan and Old Terra tea leaves.

Today he wore a plain white robe without a cape or decoration, like an old scholar walking in his garden.

But in those pale golden eyes, there is still a depth that makes people dare not look directly, as if they have accumulated over thousands of years.

He took a sip of tea, glanced at the busy workers, and then looked at Guilliman.

"Your workers are very efficient." Asuryan's tone was casual, as if he was talking about today's weather. "It was three times faster than I expected."

At this rate, in two or three days, this main channel will be fully connected.

Guilliman raised the corners of his mouth slightly. "My workers are not human beings."

Asuryan was stunned for a moment, and the hand holding the teacup hung in mid-air.

"Not a human? What is that?"

"It's Primarch." Guilliman's tone was still casual, "Two."

One is called Perturabo, and the other is called Roge·Dorn.

From the first day Webway started, they have been competing with each other to see who can build the longer, stronger and more perfect tunnel.

If they stop competing one day, the construction period of this Webway will be extended at least five times.

Asuryan was silent for a moment, and a complex light flashed in those pale golden eyes.

He thought of his unsatisfactory younger brother Kaine, and of the reckless man who continued to fight everywhere after the collapse of Eldar Pantheon.

He thought of the years when he sat on the throne in the pantheon of gods, watching those brothers and sisters coming and going, noisily.

He never thought that "competition" could be such an interesting way.

"It's great to have brothers." His voice was very soft, as if he was speaking to himself.

Guilliman glanced at him and didn't answer.

Because he knew that what Asuryan said was not "it's good to have brothers to help with work", but "it's good to have brothers".

The king of the gods, who lost all his brothers and sisters in Eldar Pantheon, looked at the two Primarch who were working hard to compete, and probably only he himself could fully understand the complicated emotions in his heart.

Guilliman withdrew his gaze and did not go any further on this topic.

"After Webway is repaired, it only takes two hours from Terra to Macragge."

Asuryan raised his eyebrows. "Two hours?"

"Yes. Two hours." Guilliman's tone was calm, as if stating a fact that has been verified countless times, "Start from the entrance of the palace, walk into Webway, make a cup of tea, wait until the tea is cool enough to be eaten, and you will come out to the port of Macragge."

If we go by transport ship, the journey will take at least a month.

Asuryan was silent for a moment, then picked up the tea cup and took another sip.

"This is faster than when I walked Webway."

At that time, it would take at least three days to go from the core world of Eldar to the edge of Milky Way.

"That's because you didn't have Law of Eternity back then." Guilliman said with a hint of smile in his tone, "Nor did you have two crazy Primarch who were competing with each other."

Asuryan put down the teacup, and a light that Guilliman had never seen appeared in those pale golden eyes.

That was not the light of Psionic Energy, but an older, more instinctive one, like the excitement of a hunter when he sees his prey.

He looked at Guilliman, then at the extending Webway, and then said softly, "Eldar, will there be any toll if I use this channel in the future?"

Guilliman turned his head and stared at Asuryan with his blue-gold eyes.

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Are you serious?"

Asuryan looked innocent. "Of course I am serious."

The king of the gods also needs to eat.

Guilliman took a deep breath. "Eldar No need to eat."

"Then I need tea." Asuryan picked up the teacup again, "Eldar needs tea."