Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 578 You fight first, then follow the process
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"While order remains, chaos is everywhere."

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In front of the Webway gate, the mortals among the Imperial defenders were almost cheering for the victory of the silver-armored warriors, but they nervously gripped their weapons because of the strange silence of the others around them.

The Grey Knights also did not speak. They quickly dispersed according to their teams, crossed the human defenders' defense circle in an orderly manner, and faced the Webway Gate.

The next moment, as if sensing something, the edge of the elegant and strange spirit bone structure radiated a cold glow, the dust in the air was stirred up by invisible energy, smoke rose, Eldrad, Ivrenee, Visage and other surviving members of the Death Army rushed out from inside, and then stopped in astonishment in the open space in front of the door.

"What's going on?! Who are you?"

The Grey Knights did not speak, nor did they attack. All of them had lavender eyepieces on their helmets, staring silently at the Eldar.

Eldrad motioned for them to stay put. "These... humans are very powerful in spirit. We'd better find out what they are here for."

The clown members of the Midnight Mourning Troupe disappeared silently again. No one knew whether they were still here, wandering further away, or perhaps they had already gone far away.

Malcador was the last to step out of the Webway Gate. He nodded at the first sight of the group of silver-armored knights.

"Ah, it's you. You all came at the right time, but it would have been better if you had come earlier."

"Sir." The leading Grey Knight saluted him.

The old man in the official robe nodded solemnly, "Long time no see, son of Titan."

His gaze moved behind the solid wall of silver armor, and after his eyes met and separated from the living saint, he looked past the crowd who were also looking forward to seeing him, and looked in the direction of the battlefield just now.

"Ahriman, is he alright?"

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"In the name of the King of Kings." A Grey Knight walked over from the back of the team, working in an orderly manner to separate the alert and wounded Eldar and Malcador's coalition forces, and came to the Grand Master, who had been half-kneeling among the scattered armor and the ashes left by the burning demons, as if praying or meditating, since the disappearance of the Great Daemon of Tzeentch.

"Azek, is that you? Our brother?"

Grand Master Azek Olmuzd Ahriman stood as still as a statue. He did not move, nor did he respond to his brother's questions.

The psychic connection between their squad and company was now dormant. Even Hyperion, who was known for his sensitivity, could not sense even a trace of that familiar and reassuring connection at such a close distance. Ahriman still had not opened his mind to his brothers as usual.

The tip of the Grey Knight's psychic halberd, which was inlaid with the skull of a previous hero, drooped slightly, and the bio-energy valve on it flashed slightly, and a lavender psychic light blade immediately appeared on the surface of the sharp monomolecular battle blade.

He confirmed it one last time.

"Grandmaster Ahriman, is that you?"

The Grey Knight who was being questioned moved. Unknowingly, the transparent frost that had been covering his entire body turned into fragments of varying sizes that fell from the surface of his silver armor to the ground, and then turned into water vapor and disappeared without a trace.

He exhaled a long breath, raised his head, and opened his deep blue eyes. A more powerful and pure energy burned deep in his pupils.

Then the warrior stood up, put his psychic halberd back behind him, faced the newcomer, and his boots rolled on the ground mixed with parchment ashes and frost, leaving deep marks.

"It's me." His voice was rich and melodious, like two cellos made of the same piece of wood playing the same chord at the same time. "Hyperion."

Although no one made a sound, something tense in the air seemed to relax a little. Several mortals realized that they had been holding their breath for a while and began to gasp for breath.

"Ahriman."

Malcador was already making his way through the warriors and the crowd, while the Living Saint was already whispering explanations and reassurances to the others.

"Sir." The Grand Master also saluted the other party, "Long time no see."

"Long time no see. How's he doing?"

Although the former Grand Vizier did not mention any names, Ahriman immediately knew who he was asking about. "He is doing well, sir."

"Why didn't he come with you? I thought he would be happy to come and observe and record this kind of thing in person."

"He has been traveling recently and has been caught up in a series of unexpected events. But as far as I know, his life is safe. It's just that he is a little bit obsessed with his research. You know. He sent me here specifically for my own business and because he knew you might be here and need our help."

The old man nodded tolerantly, then asked the Grey Knights to disperse to the outermost perimeter and form a guarding posture. He then walked over again and asked the giants of the Death Army to come for a small meeting.

"Do you see the next prophecy's location? Is it time? Eldrad."

The Great Prophet raised an eyebrow. "Are you not powerful enough to make an accurate divination, Malcador?" "This prophecy must be made by you."

"Is strength no longer respected at this time?" Despite saying this, the Supreme Prophet knew that what Malcador said was right, so he still said the name.

"Krasus, the Claw of the Frozen Crone, the Frost Moon. This is our next destination." He added worriedly, "But I saw blood spilled on the snow, and the warm blood dyed the Claw of the Crone bright red. This is not a good sign."

One by one, the members of the Midnight Mourning Troupe emerged and performed a pompous ceremony toward Malcador in accordance with the will of their gods.

The former regent was not moved at all, and even had a trace of inexplicable fatigue in his eyes. If Ramizarn saw this, he would definitely say that this was the true portrayal of fatigue of a person who had been on a long business trip and working overtime. "Lead the way. I guess you must have a usable webway gate up there. As for the enemy, I can only tell you that you don't need to worry too much."

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Under the guidance of the Harlequins, Ivrenee triggered the fractal entrance of the webway gate on Krasus using her own psychic flames. The coalition forces, having received a warning from the Supreme Prophet, immediately used all defensive measures and rushed out with weapons clenched.

Outside the door was a dead silent, snowy wasteland. They found themselves standing inside a huge, empty crater with towering cliffs. The vertical cliffs were more than a dozen stories high, and the edges were covered with sharp rocks and permafrost. Goose feather-like snowflakes fluttered between heaven and earth. The cold wind was as sharp as a knife. Stepping on the snow that was several meters thick, the raging blizzard on the planet almost immediately buried half of their feet.

They looked around vigilantly and waited for a long time.

But nothing happened. Apart from the endless whistling wind, snowflakes and stars in the sky, it seemed that they were the only living things here.

To be on the safe side, Malcador sent out Grey Knight reconnaissance teams to the surrounding areas. These new forces can also use their own psychic connection network for temporary encrypted communication, which is very convenient.

"The reconnaissance team reported that there are no signs of any biological activity within a radius of 20 kilometers. There are no visible ships or landing craft within the detectable range of the sky. They are retreating."

Although the Eldar have always maintained a certain respect for the prophecies of their prophets, humans are not so tactful. Many of them looked at the alien who had just frightened everyone with straightforwardness and suspicion. Fortunately, someone spoke up and saved Eldrad from embarrassment.

"That's the best. Hmm... If everything is fine, we just need to stay here for six hours and one minute before we can reopen the webway gate and head to our final destination. Thank God. With my old bones, I'd rather dig an igloo here and warm myself by the fire than continue to cast spells in the snow while 'shackled' and burning the opponent in a slow fire."

Before he finished speaking, the distinctive hissing sound of the energy valve of the psychic halberd in Ahriman's hand suddenly sounded. The Grey Knights and Black Templars were the first to draw their weapons vigilantly, while the Wind Riders and Harlequins leaped lightly onto the higher rocks and ice, disappearing into the cracks and low clouds of snow.

"Aren't you going to take action?" the Supreme Prophet suddenly asked.

"The time has not come, Great Prophet. I am already helping by protecting the humans here." The former Imperial Regent replied calmly, "If you want to use humans as a new line of defense to delay your demise, then you'd better not be too stingy with your warriors at this time. Besides," he pointed to a group of Dark Eldar vehicles that emerged from the distance behind a group of Black Legion Chaos Space Marines that were rushing in at high speed from countless space cracks that had opened in the distance, "Your dark kin know that there is always something to give up, and you are spending a lot of money."

The Great Prophet had no time to answer the old man. He raised his staff and began to add protection and speed to every warrior in his team. The Black Legion was coming with great momentum. Some of the blessings of the Dark Gods were clearly beating on their power armor and even on the Chaos Knights. Apparently some gamblers in the High Heaven who had lost too much could not sit still and tried to cheat secretly, because they saw the Warmaster Abaddon at the end of the Black Legion, whose body was shining with the four kinds of dark blessings and who was holding a magic sword to supervise the battle. The serious injury he had suffered in Cadia had almost healed, and only the cracks on his breastplate that had not yet been repaired were shining with a strong scarlet light that could smell the blood at a glance.

Ivrenee was surprised to find that in addition to her own Death Army and followers, the large number of reinforcements that came to attack the Black Legion from behind actually came from the Dark Eldar Blade Queen, Lylith Hesperax, who had fought a life-and-death battle with her in the arena and even killed her once.

Apparently, the Witch Cult's most outstanding arena star and killing queen had been acting in a double-faced manner towards her superior and sponsor, Archon Victor, for some purpose. Ivreene recognized that this was a Dark Eldar arena warrior directly under her, and the clowns of Midnight Mourning were obviously not so innocent in the issue of this support force appearing so accurately and lethally.

However, she didn't have time to think too much. The most important thing at the moment was to get more people to help the Death Army fight off the Black Legion, because how much bargaining chips she could gain in the last negotiation before landing in Macragge would depend on how overwhelming the victory of this battle was.

Fortunately, although the gods had opened a cheating portal for the Black Legion, the Eldar were no pushovers either. Their Death Army followers this time had a luxurious lineup, and even had Bjetan's organized warriors joining in. They were also protected during the previous voyage through the Eye of Terror, and did not suffer too much loss. Their combat effectiveness was well maintained, and all the resentment that they had been holding back by Malcador along the way was vented towards these fellow monkeys.

The Black Legion launched three attacks on the Basin Ridge, and the battle lasted for three hours. Finally, when the final count revealed that more than half of his troops had been lost without better reinforcements after Cadia, Abaddon finally chose to retreat. At this time, the will of the dark god failed to play a decisive role.

"It's amazing that he was able to overcome their will in this matter. Perhaps something happened when he retreated from Terra that year that we don't know about."

"Why don't you attack them?!" Visage, Iverene's former teacher and now her most loyal lieutenant, spoke angrily. A layer of dirty blood and internal organs condensed on his armor, turning his orange-red spirit bone armor into a strange and ominous dark red. "And this group of warriors in silver armor! I can feel the surging spiritual energy in them!"

"This is not the time for me to have a name with them." The former regent said calmly, "But I admit that this is also for the purpose of 'trying not to make mistakes'," he turned to Eldrad and Ivrenee who were thoughtful, "After all, I am limited by my own limitations and do not have such a high tolerance rate for mistakes. Well, now we only need to stay here for another three hours before setting off for Macragge. - If you still have anything else you want to talk to me about, now is your last chance."

The Living Saint folded his wings, calmed the Black Templars who were once again agitated by being so close to the blood-stained alien warriors, and landed lightly beside them.

"Then we..."

Malcador's cold eyes turned to her flawless, holy face.

"Yes. These will be your last moments."

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In the study of the Makraghela Fortress, Julius opened his eyes.

"Feel it? Well, Malcador is really controlling it very carefully. We are finally about to arrive." Mr. Kant Cratchit chuckled at the side. "You have learned both magics quite well."

"Yes." Julius's blue eyes twinkled. "That's right, dear uncle. You and I should make the necessary preparations."

Conrad Kurtz stared at him for a second, then laughed uncontrollably at what he was seeing.

(End of this chapter)