"Act approved."
In the outer star region of Ultramar, the pale green planet was gleaming with a faint glow. Above the hazy and misty atmosphere, the diamond blue and bone white fleets were quietly waiting.
A swarm of warships flew out from the Endurance, their tail flames emitting bright blue light in the sky.
"Entering the atmosphere."
White frost rose on the glass of the battleship, and even with an anti-frost coating, the frost still climbed up densely.
In the well-sealed cabin, the stench reached in like a tentacle that could penetrate any pore, stinging the driver's nerves.
High in the sky, the pale green of Yax lit up on Malcador's bloodless face.
The old man muttered to himself, as if waiting for an opportunity.
"Successfully entered the marked area, requesting bombing approval."
A buzzing sound came from the channel, and the fleet of warships seemed to have crashed into a lively area.
"Approved," Malcador began, he swayed, turned, and looked at Karas who had been silent behind him.
The old man's eyes swept across the long sickle behind Fearless without leaving a trace.
"Get ready, it's your turn - can we see Mortarion?"
According to Malcador's inference, the area of the Warp where Mortarion is now drifting is not far from Nurgle's territory.
The Warp is a space full of mixed concepts. The authority held by the Lord of Death is similar to that of Nurgle. Unless Mortarion takes the initiative to stay away, the two naturally cannot be too far apart.
And Mortarion...
Malcador thought that the brat would probably kill Nurgle and run away, but he was already at his limit at that time, so he had to find a place to stay not far from Nurgle's territory.
Although Mortarion is very close to Nurgle, the good news is... Mortarion himself may not be able to escape, but that doesn't mean he won't call "man".
Malcador couldn't help but sneer when he thought of this. Mortarion was afraid that Hades wouldn't die fast enough.
Hades, whose consciousness had fallen into a coma, could only mechanically respond to calls to him at this moment.
He couldn't tell them apart—though he hadn't been able to do it before, he could have learned it over time.
So the Black Realm, which received Mortarion's call for help, automatically rushed over and successfully cut off Nurgle's pursuit of Mortarion's fate. Mortarion was even able to "escape halfway" with some of Nurgle's authority.
Why is it half body? Because a part was cut off and thrown to Hades.
… Malcador took a deep breath.
Although the Black Domain will not be in trouble for the time being and may even continue to grow, the same cannot be said for Hades.
If the Empire, if they still want a "controllable" black domain, then Hades must not be sacrificed.
So they have to wake Mortarion from his current [sleeping] state, let him wake up on his own and take the initiative to stay away from Nurgle's domain.
Then call the Black Reach to another safe place - although Malcador believed that Nurgle was already trying this.
And find the Pale Lord in the Warp, and awaken him...
Malcador's eyes narrowed, and he muttered to himself as he wrote and drew with his staff on the deck beneath him and Karas' feet.
The golden writing lights up.
On how to summon a Warp entity, the Pale Lord.
The first step is to find a soul that has a fateful connection with the Pale Lord. The stronger the connection, the better.
Malcador found Calastyphon, and as if afraid that they would not be able to find him, Mortarion even gave Calastyphon some of his own power (which had previously belonged to Nurgle).
In the second step, you’d better have a token. Of course, if you don’t have one, you can ignore it.
Mistletoe, Malcador said that Mortarion was pretending to be ignorant even though he knew the truth, he even knew to leave a token!
Step three, find an area where the veil is weak, preferably one that has a conceptual connection to the thing you are summoning.
The Death Guard's warships were actually very suitable, but Mortarion and Hades had previously deployed too many anti-psychic measures on them. This was not a good thing for Malcador.
Malcador suddenly found it funny that Mortarion himself had previously hated psykers to the extreme and deployed anti-psionic weapons - the end result was that he himself could not get on his own ship.
This made Maca, who had been working hard for many days, feel a little relieved.
Serves him right, commented the great psychic.
Also, because the Pale Lord was born so recently, he has not had time to make an impact in the physical world. In other words, this [weak] [unlucky] subspace being currently does not have a qualified physical territory.
It doesn't matter.
Macador thought that the news that the first round of bombing was successful came from the channel. The phosphorus bombs were dropped, and strange flames were burning in the ruined forest.
"Airdrop pod."
The old man said that based on the precise location coordinates sent by the battleship pilot, Malcador began to reverse calculate the spatial coordinates of the subspace at this moment.
The golden falcon sculpture on the scepter flapped its wings as if ready to fly, glaring at Karas in the firelight.
"Seven minutes left."
Malcador said to Karas, beads of sweat oozing out of his forehead, the curtain here is very unstable, and the subspace is also unstable, which increases the difficulty of calculation.
It has to be precise... otherwise they'll be spending the day in the garden.
Even though the Pale Lord had no physical domain - never mind, his Warp coordinates were close to Nurgle's - Malcador made a similar decision to Mortarion in this case.
A freeloader.
And there is no psychological burden.
Everything was ready. Malcador took a deep breath and looked into the dark corner of the room. Several giants in silver-gray helmets slowly walked out.
Their armor was labeled with a new version of the Word Bearers' prayers, which had been in place since the Burning of the Perfect City. Within the armor, a special psychic matrix was operating, giving Malcador a warm projection in the warp.
The spears in their hands emitted a dazzling white light.
Grey Knights.
From the now-disbanded Fifteenth Legion, the Thousand Sons.
Malcador stared at them, making sure once again that they were in good shape for combat.
In the previous World Eaters battleship landing, Malcador did not let them show up. These were a few carefully selected Thousand Sons used in his experiments - their links with Magnus had been almost wiped out by Malcador.
They are not the strongest, but they are the most stable.
As for the other powerful Thousand Sons, Malcador continued to watch over them, most of them still sleeping in stasis positions under the Terran Palace, while some followed him.
But even the Thousand Sons, who were confirmed by Malcador himself to be in the most stable condition, still suffered varying degrees of coma and psychic instability during their previous voyages.
This is why, when Malcador's fleet first arrived in Ultramar, he did not allow them to show up.
… Something was wrong with Magnus. Something was definitely wrong.
According to the chaotic time calculation of the subspace, the time point is roughly... the time between Hades being sealed and the Astronomican being extinguished.
Malcador sighed.
His mystical children came under his influence during their voyages, despite Malcador's repeated attempts to weaken their bond.
The old man thought about it, and then he asked, "How are you doing?"
The huge silver-helmeted knights in front of the hunchbacked old man knelt on one knee.
"Always fight for the Empire."
Malcador nodded and motioned for them to stand up.
"Then start teleporting."
Yay!
(End of this chapter)