Sometimes, luck is also important.
For example, right now, at this moment, Tarasim must be lucky.
Because Mortarion had lost part of his memory, the Pale Lord had only glanced briefly at the reports of the Legion's previous battles.
The Pale Lord did not have much impression about the Necrons, the alien creatures that the Legion had dealt with in its early days. He only remembered that the model of a certain special weapon in the Legion came from them.
In the mist, those hazy eyes stared at Trazyn, and Mortarion felt a strange familiarity, but this was not the most surprising thing to him -
The "existence" before him had no soul.
The Pale Lord did not feel the presence of a soul.
Time seemed to slow down, and Mortarion stood there in disbelief. In front of him was Trazyn lying on the ground. The Pale Lord tried to identify—
But there was indeed nothing. The existence in front of him did not have any projection in the subspace. It was like a piece of stone, completely material, completely ignored by the subspace.
Generally speaking, even those without souls will have traces of being in the warp - their "souls" are more like an excluded existence.
The subspace is inherently tolerant. A mechanical servant, a mechanical sage whose body content is less than 1% of the transformed flesh, even an old worn-out gun, or even the [Dead], will have their own subspace projection.
Unbelievable... Mortarion stared at the sage who was lying on the ground and tremblingly guiding him. From the perspective of the Warp, there was nothing there, nothing at all!
In a trance, Mortarion considered whether this sage had simply given his entire soul to the Dead - but could he still survive
What is this
“… Sir, over there.”
Trazyn pointed behind him tremblingly, and the indicator lights on his body seemed to be frozen, flashing green mechanically.
Mortarion took a deep breath, and it was not until the desperate roar of Corax at the other end reached his ears again that the Primarch hurriedly left the place, looking back every step of the way.
It was not until Mortarion's inquiring gaze finally disappeared into the white mist that Trazyn heaved a sigh of relief in an anthropomorphic voice.
If he were a human, he would probably be sweating profusely by now.
Crisis resolved...
… Mortarion.
The signal light on Trazyn's face flickered. He lay on the deck of the Vengeful Spirit, looking back thoughtfully at the place where the fog rolled.
Trazyn recalled the Warp projection of the Pale Lord just now. The man who tore the power from Nurgle's body - Mortarion - already had the initial power over Death and Plague.
A Primarch with a high degree of compatibility with Nurgle, a Primarch who has already achieved the initial stage of counterattacking the gods, with great room for growth...
… Mortarion can still grow. Can he hold the power that symbolizes [Life]
Can he grasp the authority that symbolizes [new life]
Trazyn lay on the ground, thinking. He stared at the violently rolling fog. The pure white fog of the Warp obscured his vision. Faint roars and the sound of metal colliding could be heard.
Trazyn could imagine the fierce battle there. The fight between the primarchs was always thrilling. The fight between demigods, with the gods investing their power, must have been a wonderful battle, with the fate of brothers killing each other and the determination to fight to the death.
Moreover, the power of Nurgle has already descended - can Mortarion take a bite of the power of the God of Life and Death? It's a pity that he can't record all this, which would be the biggest regret -
A huge figure rushed out from the white fog!
The next moment, Taraxin felt himself flying again!
A black shadow that was becoming increasingly larger was speeding along the corridor of the Spirit of Vengeance!
Amidst the violent turbulence, Trazyn slowly turned his head and saw... From the gap between the huge wings, Corax, with a bloody face, was looking at him at the same time. Blood was gushing from Corax's forehead during the turbulence.
The Raven Lord stared at Trazyn in confusion, but as if relieved, as if celebrating their both survival.
He was held by the Pale Lord's left hand, and on the other side, Corax was persistently spraying blood on Mortarion's shoulder.
Behind them, angry roars came from the deep corridor. The giant beast roared and tried to chase them, but it seemed that the rolling white fog made their progress more difficult.
… So, the Necrons' mind programs started running again… It seems that the direct conflict between them did not last long.
It is even possible that, as Trazyn stiffly felt the Pale Lord's tight grip on him, or even his hand being restrained, there was no fight between the primarchs at all.
Rarely, such a picture appeared in the mind of the Necrons: in the chaos of the Warp, the Pale Lord rushed directly in, picked up Corax who was fighting desperately, and ran away, leaving the two Alphas standing there in surprise.
It comes like the wind and leaves like the wind, waving its hand and leaving behind a huge amount of cloud and mist.
Is this... Trazyn thought, a big deviation from the Mortarion personality model he had collected before
In a hurry, Trazyn felt that he needed to update the database.
For Corax, this was probably the best scenario - even if he didn't clearly understand how his brother had come down from the sky - and how he had taken him away with him injured.
But at least they looked like they could survive.
Corax silently vomited a mouthful of blood. Mortarion's... wings were flapping slightly at the Lord of the Raven. Corax looked at the stiff Sage Trazyn, who seemed to have not yet understood the current situation, and breathed a sigh of relief.
You'll be fine.
Corax said weakly in a hoarse voice,
[Mortarion is here, we will be fine, trust me... brother.]
Corax watched as Trazyn grew even more rigid.
The Necron was silent, feeling the knife-like gaze of Mortarion slash through him as Corax spoke.
Corax didn't know that the most dangerous person to Trazyn now was Mortarion.
+… What are you? +
The Pale Lord whispered as if he was talking to himself. He had just witnessed the replacement of his fate with his own eyes, but time did not allow him to react to it. The Pale Lord wanted to spit on them, wanted to rebuke them - but in the end he did not have time to say anything.
Take Corax with you, then leave and meet up with the Khan. This was Mortarion's plan.
It's just... there was a small incident during this time, which delayed him for a moment.
Mortarion's men exerted force, and his men, Trazyn, who had been trying quietly to struggle, became obedient.
… No way of escaping, Mortarion thought.
Mortarion galloped, and they rushed out of the narrow corridor and into the wider hall.
+Be ready.+
He reminded them anyway, and then Mortarion spread his wings.
“Ughh ...
[vomit!]
This time it really flew, Trazyn thought, jolting. If he were still a Necrontyr, he would be vomiting now.
No more... Vomiting soul...
(End of this chapter)