Chapter 541: Our Necron Empire of the Dead

Pfft—crack—

A lewd, obscene sound rose as intense stimulation erupted from Fygrimm's cloaca,

Fygrimm was lost in a haze of sorrow, rage, and delight when this sudden jolt slammed into his brainstem, forcing a piercing scream from his throat, his eyes rolling white, his forked tongue slithering out and trembling midair, the tongue stud quivering.

The Hag's Blade, still slick with flesh and slime, was yanked free and gripped in Khorz's hand,

Khorz cast one long look at Fygrimm, then vanished instantly into the shadows, gone without a trace, nowhere to be found.

"Konrad!!" Fygrimm writhed in fury,

but his rage quickly faded,

for he felt a cold gaze descending from the void,

the Hunger God's gaze swept over Fygrimm,

He had entrusted the Hag's Blade to Fygrimm's protection, yet Fygrimm had lost it,

and now the Hunger God's eyes carried the weight of punishment.

Fygrimm instantly shrank onto the velvet bed, trembling with dread.

The Hunger Lord's anger passed in an instant,

for the Hag's Blade was no longer as vital as once it had been,

for Inad had already been consumed by Zhou Yun,

the only real danger lay in Zhou Yun's failure to ascend to godhood and fully crush Inad,

should Zhou Yun meet with misfortune and all five Hag's Blades be reunited, the Eldar Death God might yet find a chance to be born,

but one of the Hag's Blades was now lodged in the Blood God's thigh, fused with His wound,

should that Blade be pulled free, the Blood God's power would weaken—so the Blood God would guard it against theft,

thus, the theft of this one Hag's Blade held by Slaanesh was of little consequence.

Moreover, Slaanesh could not launch any meaningful retaliation against Zhou Yun; should Zhou Yun truly meet disaster or be driven too far, causing Inad to awaken, it would be Slaanesh who suffered. And besides, Nurgle, for reasons unknown, seemed to regard Zhou Yun as a staunch ally.

What Slaanesh truly cared about, however, was the pure self Fygrimm had sensed,

the Hunger Lord had always lacked an exemplary Chosen,

Ahriman of Tzeentch—needless to say, Lord of the Red Network, one of the galaxy's foremost sorcerers and psykers,

Khorne's Kain—though now gone, he had once been second-in-command of the World Eaters,

Tzeentch's Taphon, though weaker than Ahriman and Kain, was still the true Legion Commander of the Death Guard,

and her own Lu Xiusi—hmm, he simply fell short, even though his primary ability—resurrection—was granted to him by Slaanesh,

though Lu Xiusi was not yet fully dead, Slaanesh already wished to discard him,

what she now craved above all was the uncorrupted Phoenix, longing to swallow him whole this very moment,

Slaanesh's will passed to Fygrimm,

Fygrimm's emotions gradually receded, leaving only one still burning:

jealousy,

jealousy of his replica, jealousy that the replica remained pure and proud, jealousy of his whiteness and beauty, jealousy of his nobility,

he must defile that replica.

Within the ancient hall forged of black stone, only a single emerald glow flickered; the Law Emperors of countless dynasties lurked in darkness,

the Silent King had issued his decree: all Law Emperors convened, some Overlords invited to join, forming the Council of Venerables under the Silent King's command, to advise Him and jointly deliberate on the fate of the galaxy and the Necron Empire,

but the long eons had inflicted irreversible damage upon the wills and memories of many Necrons; even among Law Emperors and Overlords, many had been corrupted,

several among them were mentally shattered, gathered together babbling incoherently,

"Your Majesty, the Silent King! I hold that our foremost duty now is the irreversible damage inflicted upon our memory modules by ten million years of slumber."

"Our second duty is to construct a defense capable of withstanding the Old Ones—I propose we learn from the Old Ones' own arts to counter them; we must master psionics—"