Emperor's Bane

Chapter 958 Bloodthirsty Man
Have you seen him?

"That human: the one wearing silver armor."

"He is truly a perfect work."

For a Bloodlink, Skyro's appearance is surprisingly young.

Unlike his white-haired, withered old mentors and colleagues, Skylo's pale body was equally thin and twisted—a common physical characteristic of almost every Bloodwalker—but on his slender torso, one could still barely see a few indistinct muscles, so he didn't become a decaying willow catkin drifting in the wind.

However, in more detail, even in the most terrifying physical form of the Lords of Pain, Skyro still retains the awareness of a Bloodling: his abdomen appears loose and empty, drooping like that of a woman who has just given birth, because he has removed all his vital internal organs and transferred them to a safer place through a delicate surgery.

This is a required course for every blood actor.

At the same time, his spine was unsettlingly stretched beyond his skin, coiling like a snake's tail on the ground where he floated, allowing him to glide gracefully like a real snake: of course, Skyro preferred to light up the anti-gravity crystal and stroll through the sky in the awe-inspiring gaze of those ignorant people rather than crawl.

What he particularly loved was seeing the look of awe and worship on the faces of his brethren, who were so similar to him, when he landed before them, those who had not yet grasped the way of suffering and were still indulging in blood and debauchery: no further words of threat were needed, respecting a Bloodbringer was an innate instinct of every Dark Eldar.

Despite being a rising star in the Council of Flesh and Blood Prophets and the most promising junior of the great Lacas, the academically busy Skyro did not always have the opportunity to leave his madhouse in the lower levels of Comoros. However, whenever he accepted an order or commission and condescended to come to the surface of the Dark City, he was always able to gain priority command in any battle.

This time is no exception.

Although Skyro did not bring the Kronos Pain Engine, which is essential for the Bloodlings—after all, that thing is more useful in the real universe—nor did he bring his newly modified Twisted Abominations and Slayers, he could simply pick two Remains as servants without affecting his noble status in a large army.

In fact, if it weren't for the intricate and complex relationship that the Hillian family had with the various Bloodlink guilds in Comoros over the past ten thousand years, the Lords of Pain would have paid no attention to this beast war taking place in the outskirts of Comoros: even if the entire Dark City were to be destroyed tomorrow, it would not make much of a difference to the Bloodlinks.

Comoros needs them.

It's not that they need Comoros.

Of course, the fact that the Hillian family, a noble family in Comoros with an ancient lineage that can be traced back to the heyday of the Eldar Empire, was utterly defeated in the war against humans, a newer race, not only had one of their provinces destroyed at the very beginning of the war, but also failed to gain any further advantage in the ensuing battles, instead wasting thousands of elite troops and countless resources in vain, has become the hottest news in the entire Comoros.

Although these descendants of humans have indeed demonstrated their considerable strength and potential over the past few centuries, and their performance in the war against the Hillian family was truly remarkable: not to mention, the destructive wave that stretched for 380,000 kilometers was a feat that the Dark City had not witnessed in a long time.

Going back to the last time, after the Great Meteorite, when various noble families and the Sun Cult were at war for control of the city: that war razed most of Comoros to the ground, and a small amount of poison gas leaked into the real universe due to a technical problem caused one of the most serious humanitarian disasters in the Conflict Era, killing trillions of intelligent life.

Therefore, even though the Imperial army had firmly captured a part of the Upper City of Comoros, it did not cause much panic: apart from the loss of a traditional territory causing a loss of face and forcing the Hillian family to start redeploying their troops, all the powerful figures in the Dark City maintained a cold and indifferent attitude.

They did not consider the Imperial army, which had already occupied a part of the core city, to be a threat. Admittedly, the power of the Emperor and the Primarch was indeed terrifying, and that Web Shield tunneling machine seemed to have hidden secrets. The Custodians and Astartes were also powerful warriors that were the envy of many. However, compared to the entire legacy of the Comoros and the Eldar Empire, they were by no means a life-or-death crisis.

In the days immediately following the Great Fall, infighting among the Comoro families nearly destroyed the Dark City several times, with almost every district being utterly destroyed. The city then went through several cycles of rebuilding and destruction. Compared to the insatiable destructive desires of the Dark Eldar, the threat posed by the Imperial army was insignificant.

In fact, even the Hillian family, which was directly confronting the Imperial army, was not taking it seriously. The loss of the outlying districts was not a serious blow, and the war was merely a means to save face for the family. The Comorian nobles only sent a small number of regular troops, along with a large number of commoners and volunteers, and through deception and abduction, they formed a large army that was fighting against the Empire.

Their true elite forces were positioned on the borders with other families and sects: these old rivals, who had been fighting each other for thousands of years, were all smiles at the predicament of the Hillian family, while silently placing their troops outside the Hillian family's true core city: they were far more deadly than the Emperor's army.

More than the humans, the Dark Eldar were concerned about how much territory and profit the unfortunate Hillian family would lose after this unexpected disaster.
Or perhaps, after this farce, will those strong and capable guards and Astartes offer a different kind of exotic flair to the Arena of the Witches, which is already somewhat aesthetically fatigued? Maybe now is the perfect time to invest or reserve a VIP seat in advance.

At least for Skiro, his attention and interest in the latter are certainly far greater than that in the former.

Within the Bloodcraft Society, which prides itself on having long since seen through the truths of biology and the universe, no one thinks that human bio-modification technology is particularly advanced. Their methods are simply the epitome of crudeness and inferiority. However, even the greatest Bloodcraft, Lacas, had to admit that despite their crude level and methods, these humans were indeed capable of producing quite remarkable results.

Perhaps they were just that lucky.

So when the Hillian family's envoy arrived at the Council of Flesh and Blood Prophets with a letter requesting aid, Skyrobin only hesitated for a moment before volunteering to come to the surface of Comoros as reinforcements: as a newcomer with a strong sense of curiosity, he had long been itching to learn about the so-called Astartes and the Imperial Guard.

Skyro knew that his reinforcements didn't need to prove anything. Neither the Hillian family nor Lacas had ever taken seriously the alliance that had been passed down for thousands of years: the reason for their alliance was simply to prevent the other from allying with their rivals.

Therefore, this support mission was essentially a lighthearted academic exercise. After overpowering several tamers who commanded the troops with his Bloodlust persona, Skyro followed their monster legion and joined the Hillian family's all-out counterattack against the human army.

It is said that the patriarch of the Hillian family mobilized thousands of elite soldiers and tens of millions of commoners to end the war with humans before his patience ran out. However, even Skylo, who had been out of touch with the world for a long time, knew very well that the Hillian family's true strength was far more than this. This so-called full-scale counterattack actually had a deeper meaning.

Through continuous fighting, the Hillian family gradually probed and ascertained the strength of the Imperial Army. After confirming that it was indeed a formidable opponent, a new idea naturally emerged: rather than continuing to fight with these human armies with unclear intentions, let the tigers, leopards, jackals, and wolves behind them reap the benefits.

Why not launch several large-scale offensives to force the human army to retreat, making them realize that the Hillian family's territory is a tough nut to crack, thus prompting them to turn their attention to other districts of Comoros: for example, the Karachi family or the Ilitian family, who are not far away. These two old enemies of the Hillian family have been entangled with them for thousands of years, and each of their territories are under the attack of the imperial army.

Although the three ancient families joining forces could very well stop the advance of the human army, wouldn't it be better to lure these younger races to attack their old rivals, severely damage their armies and core territories, and thus become the fisherman who reaps the benefits?
Ultimately, the loss amounted to only a few thousand subordinates and a large number of commoners: compared to the vast wealth inherited by the Hillian family over thousands of years, it was nothing more than a small bag of gold coins and a large pile of worthless stones.

Moreover, it would also be a good opportunity to test out the latest weapons developed within the family.

For example, there were hundreds of enormous beasts, each the size of a small hill, standing beside Skyro.

"Is this your latest research finding?"

After gazing at the monster a few hundred meters away from a purely academic perspective, Skyro slowly floated to the side of the Beastmaster Leader. After the latter revealed his back and neck to him with awe, Bloodling raised his withered head with considerable satisfaction, the syringes on the bony frame behind him clanging like bells.

"Yes, my lord."

"Things seem to be going very well."

After receiving an affirmative answer, Skylo praised him with unparalleled arrogance.

“Especially those Uguls.”

"Their bodies have swelled at least several thousand times."

"This is the latest archaeological research result. In a biological laboratory destroyed in the Great Meteorite in the suburbs of Comoros, we found biotechnology inherited from the ancient imperial era, which has made groundbreaking progress in cultivating these web-like organisms."

The chief beast tamer stuck out his blue-black tongue from his sharp teeth, his words filled with pride.

"With these monsters, we can easily crush any opponent in front of us."

"Humph……"

Skylo gave a soft hum, his voice as elegant as that of a terminally ill nobleman, cleverly masking his inner disdain.

In the eyes of the Bloodwalkers, these so-called breakthroughs were far less creative than the robust physiques of the Astartes before them.

Before this, he had thought that the twisted hatred that the Bloodwalkers were so proud of was the pinnacle of their profound flesh-and-blood technology. But in these modified humans, he glimpsed a glimmer of hope for the future: if such a simple and unpretentious method of modification could produce such a dark yet magnificent result, then the Bloodwalkers' skills and taste would undoubtedly make great strides.

If he can use this as a breakthrough, he will stand out among all his colleagues and juniors.

Given time, he might have the chance to cut off the head of the most legendary Bloodlust: Lacas, and then take his mentor's place.

Don't think he doesn't know.

In the Comorian worldview, Skyro is Lacas's most valued student, but according to the cultural traditions of the Bloodlings, this means that he is the physical vessel for Lacas's most favored reincarnation ritual, and also the number one experimental subject for Lacas's most dangerous experiments.

But it doesn't matter.

Every Bloodlust mentor should have the habit of slaughtering their own students.

And every student of the Bloodlust should also be entitled to a degree by killing his teacher.

Skyro had already planned his graduation thesis by the third month of his formal enrollment: he planned to secretly destroy all of his teacher's regeneration devices, then turn his teacher, now without his trump card, into a soup, a hot soup that preserved his self-awareness and physical senses, and share it with the other lords of the Council of Flesh and Blood Prophets during his thesis defense, thus proving that he was qualified to take his teacher's place.

Thinking of this, Blood Spirit licked his lips.

He seemed to have already savored that sweet taste.

Good heavens, that must taste even better than his favorite drink: the first tear he collects when he manipulates a mother into eating her child.

"Then what are you waiting for?" Thinking of this, even the usually patient Skylo felt an unbearable sense of anxiety.

He looked ahead: the admirable flesh-and-blood creature was clearly the leader of the Astartes, leading his men to form a new defensive line that had, in the blink of an eye, reversed the almost shattered situation. With the support of those three crudely made giant constructs, they had managed to hold their ground against an enemy force a hundred times their size.

Really.

Although he never counted on those commoners, these guys were far too useless.

They couldn't even catch a single one alive.

Skiro glanced at the animal trainers beside him: large beads of cold sweat immediately streamed down the necks of these brutal thugs, making them tremble.

"You should have seen it."

The Bloodlust pointed forward, slowly displaying items such as boning knives or syringes filled with green slime on his six arms or mechanical arms. His spine, coiled on the ground, rose up like a snake, gradually raising his gaze above his pitiful kin.

"Your offensive is not going well."

“You were about to win, but now you have been driven out of the fortress.”

“Deep within that fortress is a teleportation array. If you cannot destroy it, new human reinforcements will arrive every few minutes. I don’t think they will abandon their comrades.”

"If you continue wasting time like this, you'll probably never be able to complete the order to capture this fortress."

At this point, Skylo gave a contemptuous sneer at the tamer's trembling skin.

"Besides, I probably don't need to remind you."

“The Hillian are not known for their tolerance: they don’t consider what difficulties you’re going through.”

"I know...I know..."

The tamer's forehead was covered in large, heavy beads of sweat that splattered onto the ground, and he didn't even dare to raise his hand to wipe them away: neither the Bloodwalker in front of him nor the Hillian noble who had sent him were people he, a lowly commoner who had crawled out of a petri dish, could afford to offend. The power and nobility of those true offspring made them the ruling class of the entire Dark City from birth.

Especially over a hundred years ago, a significant number of True Children were involved in an operation in the real universe: supposedly during a conflict with the human empire's army, the entire army was wiped out, and not a single person was able to escape and return to tell the truth. Even Lilith, the Arena Queen who was the spiritual faith of the Witch Spirits, was missing and her fate unknown in that operation.

Since then, the increasingly rare True Children have enjoyed an increasingly noble status: with the number of competitors in the same ecosystem greatly reduced, those who were fortunate enough not to participate in the operation have gained more resources and power, and any one of them can crush this seemingly high-ranking animal trainer with a single word.

Of course, the young Bloodlust in front of me could do the same thing.

“I will order them to retreat, let all those lowly people come back, and then send out the giant beasts.”

On the other hand, the beast tamer also knew that what the Bloodling said was absolutely true: in the face of the extremely coordinated and efficient defenses of these human armies, those lowly people who were lured from the lower-level cities or simply abducted could not pose any effective threat at all. Their overwhelming numerical advantage had become a disadvantage, interfering with the ability of the true elites in the ranks to exert their power.

The well-trained Nightmare and Scourge had organized several extremely ruthless assaults, but each one was thwarted by the wandering Outcasts. They blocked those extremely important tactical positions, allowing the Nightmare and Scourge to be precisely targeted and killed by Astartes when they hesitated slightly. This made these elite professional soldiers extremely irritable, and many of them had already left the battle without permission. Although they did not evacuate, they clearly did not intend to continue fighting alongside the Outcasts.

Meanwhile, other elite troops under the command of the Hillian family and mercenaries hired at great expense also took similar actions: only the witch spirits in the arena were an exception. It was not that they were magnanimous, but these fanatical female madmen had charged towards Astartes' position at the beginning of the battle and had now been almost completely killed by the elite imperial warriors.

"Make them come back?"

Bloodlust laughed dismissively.

He seemed to be looking at something far away.

"There's no time for that. Send your behemoth legions straight ahead immediately. No one will mourn for those lowly people."

"!"

The animal tamer slightly raised his head.

"But some elite troops remain on the battlefield."

It's not surprising that he'd be a commoner, but if these monsters under his command, who don't distinguish friend from foe, were to shatter the elite forces of the Hillian family during a march, who knows how those misers would settle scores with him later.

Are you defying me?

Faced with this hesitation, Skyro gracefully floated in front of the tamer, grabbed his face, and forced him to look up and meet his gaze.

A moment later, the beast tamer, whose soul had almost been stolen by the Bloodthirsty Man's direct gaze, nodded blankly.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry, sir."

"I will give the order immediately."

"You better hurry up."

The chief beastmaster, listening with satisfaction, blew the horn that sounded like the howl of an ancient beast, and the mountain-like monster army moved in response, letting out savage roars. The Bloodling paid no attention to any of this; even the stampede of ten thousand monsters was far less significant than the most ordinary day he had experienced since becoming a Bloodling.

At this moment, Skyro simply turned his gaze slowly to a distant direction, and no one knew why he suddenly urged the monster army to advance.

But he knew why.

Time is not on our side.

The Bloodthirsty Man muttered to himself.

As he gazed into the distance from his vantage point, thousands of plumes of smoke rose from different locations across the vast territory spanning hundreds of thousands of kilometers in the outlying city. Each plume symbolized the wild charge of tens of thousands of Dark Eldar, and the Hillian family's counterattack against humanity.

Tens of millions of Eldar joined in: the Dark City hadn't seen such a large-scale event in a long time.

In the past, such an offensive could even temporarily determine the ownership of the entire Comorian hegemony: until the hegemon was defeated by other families joining forces.

But now, these massive smoke signals are disappearing one by one at a visible speed.

"..."

Blood Spirit narrowed his eyes.

He could see it clearly: although it was far away, the silvery-white pillar of light descending from the sky still sent chills down his spine.

With each strike, the entire battlefield, once filled with the sounds of battle, instantly fell silent, and countless spirit souls returned to the evil god.

That was a force he could never contend with.

He could sense that the destructive beam of light came from the wrath of a demigod thousands of miles away: every finger she extended toward the war-torn front lines would turn an entire Comorian army into wailing ghosts in the warp. This destruction was almost irreversible, something that even the Bloodlings' advanced techniques of torment could not undo.

He had no desire to be enemies with such a force.

As he watched legions after legion on the distant border be reduced to ashes in the wrath of the demigods, Skyro, while assessing the distance between himself and the destructive wave, and how long the hundreds of battlefields in between could hold out, looked impatiently toward the front lines of the war.

When he fled in the face of destruction.

He hoped he could take the real prize home.

Instead of being met with the raging fury of a demigod.

What about the compatriots around him?
That was never a concern for a blood actor.

(End of this chapter)