Warhammer 40k: Melee Warriors

Chapter 1191: Dude, I have something to tell you.

The situation took a dramatic turn for the worse; not only did their relationship with Tara Sinra fall apart, but ancient grudges were also brought up again.

It seems we really have to start killing.

Komi sighed and prepared to take action.

But at that moment, the necromancer overlord, who harbored considerable resentment towards Tarasin, changed his tone. Instead of ordering the necromancers to execute everyone, he pointed his scepter at Komi and his group and spoke.

"It's been so many years, why do your servants look so strange now?"

Servant? Komi was taken aback, but didn't think much of it, since Tarasin did indeed have the habit of keeping human servants.

Many humans lived much more comfortably under him than in the Empire, not only receiving medical care but also having their families looked after by Talasiim.

After all, those servants were to Tarasim what rhubarb was to humans.

When you watch Wangcai busy in front of you, you will naturally think of Wangcai's father, Dahuang, and a bittersweet feeling of nostalgia will well up in your heart.

Tarasin was dumbfounded, not understanding for a moment why his old enemy was suddenly bringing this up.

"What's with that expression?" the necromancer lord asked, quite puzzled. "If they're not your servants, then what are they? I don't have any records of these guys."

The conversation was becoming increasingly confusing for Tarasin. He looked at Komi and his group, then at the Necromancer Lord, and suddenly a terrifying thought arose in his mind.

Is this guy sleeping like crazy?

Tarasin quickly pointed to his face and asked, "Tius, look at the corners of my eyes, don't you think I have a few more wrinkles?"

“Wrinkles?” Tius stroked his chin, his green eyes flashing a few times, and then said, “I can only say that your skincare is terrible. Those aren’t wrinkles anymore, they’re folds!”

Upon hearing that Tarasin, who possessed a living metallic face, was covered in wrinkles, even Komi, who was about to start a fight, immediately understood their current predicament.

Komi and Tarasin thought the same thing almost simultaneously.

This creature couldn't distinguish between humans and the undead, nor did it know whether it was alive or dead; it was trapped in a dream where its flesh and blood still remained...

Half an hour later, in a large hall, Tius, the host, sat in the main seat, raised his wine glass and toasted Tarasin across the long table, celebrating their enduring a great slumber of 60 million years.

Tarasin awkwardly joined in Tius's celebration, glancing out of the corner of his eye at the group of people standing respectfully behind him, who seemed confused and uneasy about their situation.

"Ahem... If you want to live, then continue to pretend to be my servants, understand?"

Kane nodded. Lacking knowledge of the Necromancers of space, he was easily persuaded by Tarachin's philosophical analysis and decided to keep a low profile and get through this difficult time.

Although Felicia felt unhappy about being treated like a slave by a group of aliens, she swallowed her dissatisfaction when she saw Commissar Kane winking at her.

Commissar Kane is a voter of the Emperor; perhaps the Emperor has some plan to completely eliminate these aliens that requires him to do this?

As for Da Hang... his attitude was simple: whatever the second boss said, he did, and thus became a giant standing honestly in the room.

Koji was also curious about one thing: he could tell that this overlord named Tius needed something from Tarasin, otherwise he wouldn't have been so arrogant at first and then so obsequious, inviting him to dinner here.

"This meal is delicious, isn't it? My stomach is bulging." Tius wiped his mouth. As a cold, emotionless robot, he had no ability to eat.

The fresh food extracted from the stagnant force field got stuck in the gaps of his mouth; even if he was lucky enough to swallow it, it would hang bloodily below his chest cavity.

However, this horrifying scene might appear quite different to the mentally unstable Tius.

Taracin didn't point it out, although he knew that even if he said it directly, Tius wouldn't take it seriously and would just think that Taracin was repeating his old habit of talking nonsense.

"This meal is indeed excellent, with a distinctive flavor reminiscent of the Farennis dynasty," Tarasin complimented Tius, then, under Komi's watchful gaze, steered the conversation to the main topic.

"Based on my understanding of you Farennis people, the appearance of Piax fish meat on the table means there is something important to discuss. I wonder if there is anything I, a petty thief, can do to help you?"

“Oh, Tarasin, my Tarasin.” Tius shook his head dramatically. “You are belittling yourself too much. We all know that as the lord of the Nihilak dynasty, the lord of Emperor Crispec, we all know that your dynasty possesses wealth and a matching military force that excites all those who fear death.”

Compared to you, our Farennis dynasty is truly insignificant, possessing only some trivial technological achievements.

A small achievement?

Upon hearing Tius's words, Tarasin's metallic face twitched slightly.

All enemies who fought against the Farennis dynasty harbored deep fear of their terrifying technological blockade capabilities.

Imagine this scenario: you're wearing power armor, wielding a laser cannon, and stepping onto the battlefield. Before you even fire a shot, all your skills are locked down, leaving you with no choice but to use the laser cannon like a club, smashing it at the enemy's rumbling tanks.

The disparity in artificial manufacturing technology allowed the Farennis dynasty to consistently defeat hundreds of enemies and achieve brilliant victories.

The more Tius portrays his own dynasty as utterly worthless, the more difficult his next request will be.

Tarasin was already considering escaping, but he knew he couldn't upload his consciousness as long as the mysterious sphere behind Tius continued to spin.

Damn technology blockade.

"Our dynasty did indeed amass a small fortune through a bit of luck, but I'm not sure what you mean by bringing that up?"

"I hope you can provide me with a sum of money so that I can deal with the internal problems of our dynasty."

"Uh... what's the problem? You need our wealth?" Tarasin breathed a sigh of relief. The fact that Tius used "you" as the subject, instead of "the Nihirac dynasty," indicated that what he was asking for might not be much.

It's just a matter of spending some money; Tarachin can manage, as long as he doesn't covet the things in his museum.

Tius sighed, "I'm not afraid to tell you this, but as you know, in order to maintain our technological advantage, the dynasty has trained a considerable number of tomb engineers."

Taracin nodded. The technological blockade of the Farennis Dynasty was achieved by the tomb engineers artificially setting local spatial laws. To do this, not only was a powerful instrument capable of influencing reality required, but also terrifying computing power as support.

The engineers of Faronnis need to constantly calculate the changes in the rules of space and make timely adjustments and corrections so that the technological blockade will not affect their own troops or even cause violent spatial tremors.

“The tomb engineers we trained, though intelligent, were still too few in number. So we hired a group of talented people from other dynasties and promised them a small reward. Now the engineers’ wages need to be paid, but I’m still short a little money in my account.”

At this point, Tius was so eager to kneel before Tarasin that he almost wanted to do so.

"So I need you... to lend me some money so I can pay them their wages."

Chapter 1192: How did you become depressed?

When Tarasin finished reading the bill sent by Tius, he lost control and crushed the antique crystal cup, which was quite valuable to collectors, into pieces.

Before he could even feel sorry for the collection, Tarasin, barely containing his anger, questioned Tius about whether there was something wrong with the bill.

"Problem? What problem?"

"Are you taking me for an idiot? The money on this bill is enough for me to mobilize an army that can sweep across an entire star sector! If that were the case, I could grit my teeth and come up with it, but if I'm not mistaken, is this just an advance payment for a century's worth of wages? And all the debts from the previous sixty million years are gone, right?"

"I...I didn't want this either." Speaking of the debt, Tius lost his spirit, drawing circles on the table with his finger in frustration. "I never imagined the bills would snowball like this over sixty million years. If our dynasty had continued to produce wealth for those sixty million years, repaying them wouldn't have been a problem, but..."

“But we’ve slept for 60 million years, haven’t we?” Tarasin rubbed his forehead. “Didn’t you consider this when you signed the employment contract?”

"Of course we considered it! But the announcement of the Great Sleep was made too hastily at the time, and we simply didn't have the time to help the Emperor sort out these complicated terms. We had no choice but to bite the bullet and sign it."

How rushed is the time?

"It's only about three or four hundred years."

“Three or four hundred years!” Tarasin stood up, almost pointing his finger at Tius and cursing him.

But when he saw the sense of entitlement in Tius's eyes, Tarasin suddenly realized something.

For the space undead whose lifespan is already infinite, time has become meaningless.

How did we become like this?

Tarasin couldn't help but ponder this question. He clenched his hands and suddenly extracted from his vast memory a very brief memory that, even if deleted, would not help free up storage space.

He still had flesh and blood.

He remembers.

He remembered when he was still breathing, when he, like many others in the dynasty, was suffering from illness.

This disease is beyond the reach of technology capable of defeating the gods; it is like a curse deeply rooted in their souls, passed down from generation to generation, spreading the graves of suffering throughout the universe with the colony ships.

He remembers.

He remembered that when he could still digest food normally, disease caused many people in the dynasty to have only a very short life. Often, they had just begun to understand the grandeur and beauty of this world when they had to start thinking about their graves after they died.

This despair of being destined for a short life led the dynasty to have a morbid pursuit of saving time, for life is finite while the world is infinite.

No one wants to waste their life on meaningless things.

Faster eating, faster drinking, faster sleep, faster learning...

Efficiency, efficiency, efficiency!

Every second is precious.

He remembers.

He remembered that when he had just completed his bio-transformation, his cold, metallic body possessed unimaginable strength. Even if his head was shot, he would not die on the spot, but would spontaneously and slowly repair himself.

The body felt no pain, and the memory was as clear as reading an extremely rich book.

Biotransformation was undoubtedly one of the best choices the fearful of death ever made!

They conquered illness and death, gaining almost infinite time!

Now they can waste their time however they want.

Centuries can be spent debating whether a single punctuation mark in a book is right or wrong.

A grand opera can be performed in the time it takes for a star to explode.

You can use the long time it takes for a black hole to collapse to learn everything about the universe.

Yes, nothing is better than having endless time.

But is that really true?

What price did we pay to gain time?

Tarasin fell into a long silence. He looked back on his past and found that every memory of happiness and joy he had had was deeply connected to those short-lived creatures.

He rejoices in witnessing the passing and continuation of life, yet feels no attachment whatsoever to his own eternal existence.

At the end of time, everything will vanish. In the cold void and deathly silence, only I will remain in the grave, guarding fragmented memories, waiting for an ending that will never come, until I go completely mad.

"Tarasin? Tarasin?"

After calling out several times, Tarasin snapped out of his thoughts. He looked at Tius and remembered everything that had just angered him.

At this moment, the rage within the mechanical heart had vanished, leaving only pity for its own kind.

Because they possess time, they despise it, and consequently forget what time truly means.

For many living organisms, a few hundred years is enough to bring about dramatic changes, but for us... well... it's about the same as being in a daze for a minute.