Chapter 325: I Have a Feeling Someone's Getting Fleeced
"I can provide it, but the agreement adheres to the aforementioned requirements. No routes connecting to other Eldar habitats, and no routes capable of large-scale strategic deployment."
The Solitaire nodded, his crisp attitude suggesting he truly had full authority.
"As for further cooperation, I hope we can discuss that after accumulating more goodwill and trust between us over time."
"Sigh, I'm really not used to Eldar who don't speak in riddles," Ramesses couldn't help but tease.
"..."
The Harlequin shot Ramesses a speechless glare.
My lord, if you didn't turn around and leave the moment you heard a riddle, I'd speak in them too. We just don't have that luxury right now, do we?
When asking for help, one must abandon their faction's unique quirks.
And the Laughing God's attitude was clear.
Although these four Dawnbreakers looked and smelled much better than those untrustworthy entities in the warp, whether they were just chocolate-flavored excrement remained to be seen.
Who knew if their protection of so many souls wasn't just to gather them up for some evil purpose later?
If Cegorach lost his mind and delivered the Eldar on a silver platter, only to nurture a second Eldar god of death, that would be the end.
This god was surprisingly reliable.
Ramesses shook his head.
A jester god known for absurdity was now worrying himself sick over the survival of his race.
"The Dawnbreakers need a Webway route capable of accommodating a large fleet," Romulus insisted, trying to pry something more out of them.
"No."
"One leading directly to Commorragh."
Surely they wouldn't protect those Drukhari, whose only difference from Slaaneshi Daemonettes was their species?
"No," the Solitaire refused flatly, looking righteous.
But Romulus noticed the expression beneath the mask.
As if afraid Romulus wouldn't understand, upon meeting Romulus's probing gaze, the Solitaire rolled his eyes dramatically.
He's asking for benefits for his own people again.
"Other Eldar factions can come along too."
Commorragh stored a vast amount of technology from the time of the Aeldari Empire. Although the Craftworld Eldar considered themselves the orthodox inheritors, when it came to technological reserves, Commorragh—a Webway hub that was incredibly prosperous even during the ancient empire—was superior, especially for technologies that required psychic power to operate.
Since they had already decided to raid Commorragh at some point, Romulus could show a bit of a mutually beneficial attitude when appropriate. At least the Laughing God had enough united front value.
He could give him some face.
"That is acceptable."
"Generous."
Romulus clapped his hands and tossed a list to the Solitaire.
It was a Webway lease agreement for one hundred years, and the Spirit Stones to be delivered immediately after the meeting.
"Deal?"
"Deal."
While this cooperation was proceeding in full swing over time, Archmagos Cawl was studying the data packet sent by Trazyn, attempting to restart the Blackstone pylon array on Cadia.
Suddenly, a mysterious visitor appeared behind him. Cawl instantly entered combat mode.
Almost instinctively, the Archmagos prepared to atomize the abomination before him.
During joint archaeological excavations, Trazyn was an extremely reliable companion with unparalleled professionalism and technical skill, capable of solving most problems.
But during non-archaeological excavations, Trazyn himself was the biggest problem.
Cawl couldn't remember how many of his collections had been swiped by this abominable fellow.
"I am Trazyn the Infinite, Overlord of Solemnace, Archaeovist of the Prismatic Galleries. Why do you always refer to me as an abomination?"
Sensing the Archmagos's unwelcome attitude, Trazyn couldn't help but ask.
"Given your mastery of High Gothic, Low Gothic, Binharic, and various Mechanicus dialects, perhaps you could find a more suitable term. For example, addressing me as a distinguished guest."
Cawl began searching his lexicon and refuted seriously, "'Abomination' indicates something repugnant. Derived from the ancient High Gothic abominatio, meaning 'away from man'."
Which means, you non-human thing, I've tolerated you for a long time. Get away from me.
"That is a superficial citation," Trazyn raised a hand, signaling you can't revoke my personhood, and then refuted using his deep accumulation of human linguistic evolution.
"And partially incorrect. 'Away from man' is a pejorative interpretation. 'Abomination' should derive from the ancient High Gothic root regarding omens, meaning to 'shrink back from an ill omen,' which also fits your description of me."
Cawl couldn't hold back anymore and started flipping through his internal dictionary, looking for flaws.
No flaws?
How does a xenos know more about human linguistics than a human?
"It is merely common usage," Cawl retorted stubbornly.
Ignoring Trazyn's more professional and sharp rebuttal, he quickly connected to the comms with the Dark Angels.
The collaboration between the Wardens of Steel and him had been highly integrated, so much so that the Space Wolves joked that after the Minotaurs for the High Lords, the Fire Angels for the Ecclesiarchy, and the Marines Errant for the Rogue Traders—
Now the Mechanicus had their own enforcers: the Dark Angels.
They had a fierce fight in the arena that day.
While Cawl was communicating with the Dark Angels, the Infinite looked left and right. Taking advantage of Cawl's inattention, he secretly dismantled a servo-skull hovering near Cawl's hand.
Oh, I remember.
Trazyn observed the details of the skull.
Magos Hester Aspertia Sigma, an expert in biology and personality matrix integration. During the Horus Heresy, she was killed by Cawl for siding with the traitors, and her cloning and personality matrix technologies became Cawl's.
Cawl's ability to create clones and ensure his soul didn't degrade over ten thousand years was largely due to the Emperor's blessing, but also heavily reliant on the legacy of this mentor whom he had dutifully killed.
His project to recreate the Horus Heresy needed exactly this kind of thing.
A sense of indescribable sacred mission surged in Trazyn's heart.
Besides being an archaeologist, a Phaeron of a Forge World (self-proclaimed), and a Grand Master of the Ordo Xenos (also self-proclaimed), due to the great 'Primarch's' recognition of his professionalism and philosophy, his unbiased historical reconstruction had made him the official historian for the Dawnstar Sector's reconstruction of the details of the Horus Heresy.
He even wrote the compulsory history textbooks for the Dawnstar Sector.
"This circuit structure is a unique product of the Trisolian-A4 Forge World. It seems to be ten thousand years old," Trazyn played with the skull, sighing with emotion.
Mechanicus Magi like Cawl who had lived for ten thousand years really had a lot of good stuff.
Using such a historically valuable collectible to assist Cawl in boring calculations was truly a waste of talent.
"Put it back!"
The Archmagos, still communicating with the Dark Angels, cut the connection and scolded.
"Heh heh~"
Trazyn smiled slightly and flicked his wrist. The servo-skull vanished into thin air.
"Oh my."
The Infinite spread his empty hands, facing Cawl with an innocent look.
"I lost it."
"...(Hexadecimal profanity)"
While working, Cawl couldn't help but allocate some processing power to engage in an "academic exchange" with Trazyn.
Trazyn had handed over the technology, but the installation still required the Imperium to operate it themselves. The collector also knew that humans couldn't trust him completely, so after fulfilling his role, he consciously chose to become a qualified thief.
Damn it, anyone, just take this bastard away from me.
☆☆☆
-> SUPPORT ME WITH POWER STONE
-> FOR EVERY 400 PS = BOUNS CHAPTER
☆☆☆
-> 30 Advanced chapters Now Available on Patreon!!
-> https://www.pat-reon.co-m/c/Inkshaper
(Just remove the hyphen (-) to access patreon normally)
If you like this novel please consider leaving a review that's help the story a lot Thank you