The Emperor’s Angel of Death

Although Yvraine hadn't received very professional training as an Ark Witch or Seer, the Wild Kingdom also had its own set of knowledge and methods for cultivating psychic abilities. More importantly, Yvraine was extremely talented. Many seers had praised his psychic talent, believing that if he had been born on an Ark, he would have definitely embarked on the path of a seer. However, Yvraine himself had no interest in this; he preferred a life of communicating with the world-soul. But this didn't prevent him from learning the Ark's cultivation methods, which made his psychic abilities even stronger.

In the blink of an eye, his world turned gray. This wisp of perception was but a ray of light from his full power. Yvraine glided through the rolling layers of clouds composed of soul energy. He knew these were his kin nearby, and then in an instant, he crossed hundreds of meters of obstacles.

He needed to enter the enemy's bunker and open it from the inside.

In the soul's perception, Yvraine felt the light touch of thousands of hands, as thin as silk. This was the best warning to all Eldar: even when using psychic abilities, they needed to be extremely careful, because the hungry He was always coveting their souls. Therefore, the Eldar's existing psychic cultivation techniques all revolved around how to avoid and weaken the interference from the Dark Prince, to prevent their souls from being firmly sucked into the warp, like a ship captured by a vast and indescribable abyss.

Yvraine tried his best to control his state of mind, suppressing his emotions to the limit, making himself as ruthless and unfeeling as a living corpse, ignoring the faint laughter and cries behind the veil, carefully avoiding other probing gazes.

Finally, he arrived at his destination. The turbulent soul torrents swirled here, forming a huge and terrifying vortex that seemed like the howling of the wind under a dark sky.

Anger and savagery seeped into his consciousness, trying to flood his thoughts like a raging fire, but Yvraine was already very familiar with the souls of the Orks these days. He armed himself with armor of willpower, followed by the intention to influence him.

Inside the bunker was a large space. Several Orks were drunkenly趴 (pā) on the ground or on swaying chairs. There were wine bottles everywhere. Many green little monsters were呱噪 (guā zào), fighting. Several doors leading to the outside were tightly locked. In the middle was a huge spiral staircase leading downwards.

After finding what he wanted, Yvraine didn't hold back. He spread out his psychic power, and immediately all the Gretchin, including the Ork Boyz, fainted.

Then he withdrew his perception entity, took a few breaths, dispelled the chill surrounding his body, and slowly stood up.

"Go."

The group quickly arrived near the bunker. A warrior took out an enhanced monomolecular grenade and gently threw it onto the bunker's outer shell. Then, the reinforced sharp monomolecular wire slid out, cutting into the rock and metal, and then quickly tightened.

In less than a second, a smooth circular entrance was cut out of the bunker.

The Dragon Knights filed in, coldly executing all the green beasts inside.

Then they began to descend along the moss-covered spiral staircase. The walls here were very monotonous. Occasionally, empty torch brackets could be seen. There were no electric lights or lighting equipment.

During this time, they also encountered some wandering Orks, but they died quickly before they could even pick up their weapons.

The staircase eventually led to a spacious hall. Passages branched off in several directions. At this time, they had penetrated deep into the Orks' seaside base. It was humid and dark here, and filled with various odors—mainly the Orks' excrement. They always defecated wherever they went.

Yvraine concentrated, focusing his mind, and led this squad deep into the interior of the base. Relying on his psychic perception and the Eldar's natural agility, they encountered almost no obstacles. The few Orks they encountered were usually in groups of five or six, cursing and mocking each other in rude and vulgar language.

And eliminating them was also very simple. Monomolecular discs traveled in the shadows, either shooting into their heads or piercing their lungs.

When slaughtering those green beasts, the Dragon Knights moved silently, as cold as the bricks here.

Occasionally, when encountering large groups, Yvraine would chant incantations, wrapping his team in a cold cloak, making hiding in this dark place so easy.

Relying on psychic perception, he moved along an unusual energy point and came to a door. This heavy iron door seemed to be vibrating slightly. A low hum like an anxious heartbeat came from behind the door, but there was no lock, no hinge on the door. This mottled black iron seemed to be integrated with the surrounding rocks. Yvraine guessed this was a gate.

So he stretched out his Singing Spear, gathering energy at the tip of the spear. The runes flickered with silver light in the faint light.

The door did not open, nor did it rise or slide into the stone wall. The darkness around the ancient metal door became thicker, the edges became smooth, and the outline was swallowed by ink, until the door itself seemed to be just an unremarkable void.

Yvraine didn't say a word and stepped into the darkness, his warriors following closely behind.

Inside was a huge workshop, filled with scattered parts, equipment, scaffolding, and jib cranes. Perhaps it was originally for manufacturing something, but now it had become a different scene. And there were no guards here, only a few Mek Boyz sleeping soundly on the mats. They had no perception of the enemies who appeared.

Yvraine didn't care about them, but looked at the device in the middle of the workshop, surrounded by scaffolding. As always, it was filled with the Orks' wild style, like a metal sea urchin, covered with antennas of varying heights, and at the top was a spiral-shaped giant metal horn.

"Capture them."

Needing to know what this was, guessing was useless. The Dragon Knights then walked over and, as the Mek Boyz woke up in surprise, captured them one by one with crystal shackles and dragged them in front of Yvraine.

Yvraine didn't waste any words, directly raised his hand and stabbed one to death, then used the little bit of simple Ork language he had learned to ask the remaining Mek Boyz what this thing was.

At first, they were unwilling to answer, until Yvraine stabbed another one to death, and finally a Mek Boy opened his mouth, but they explained it vaguely. Yvraine listened for a long time and finally figured out some clues.

This was a device manufactured by Big Mek Warzog to transmit high-frequency pulse signals. It didn't have any attack capabilities, only one function.

To contact the Great Firebrand, Snagrod, whose fleet was light-years away, and form a space compression channel, allowing the Firebrand's fleet to arrive at Rynn's World as quickly as possible at incredible speed. This sounded very incredible, but it was precisely the kind of physical teleportation technology that the Orks were best at.

One can imagine, when humanity thought victory was in their grasp, and was working hard to clear the remaining Orks on Rynn's World, and the fleet in orbit was also lacking vigilance, a huge Ork fleet suddenly appeared.

That would definitely be a devastating disaster. Maybe all the reinforcements would have to be planted in this place. This was definitely a huge landmine, and humans would step on it without realizing it.

Thinking of this, Yvraine was also startled into a cold sweat, but fortunately, at least he had discovered it.

After executing the last Mek Boy, he looked at the device and made a decision.

More updates tomorrow!