Chapter 664

“What have you even brought to this galaxy!” Saint Guilliman exclaimed involuntarily.

“It must be love and peace!” Zhou Yun replied with a smile: “You know, I hold boundless love for all life in the galaxy.”

Saint Guilliman fell silent, unable to resist raising a hand to rub his forehead.

Zhou Yun was different from the Emperor in this regard—the Emperor saw only one word for xenos: kill; Zhou Yun was far more tolerant.

Whether it was the Eldar or the Necrons, Zhou Yun could claim they were subspecies of humanity.

Had the Tau Empire not been mysteriously suffering a Iron Men rebellion, had the Ancestors’ Cores of the Wotan Alliance not begun malfunctioning for no reason, had the Gorm’s Blood-Singers’ experiments not grown increasingly out of control, and had other xenos races not erupted in their own internal crises, Saint Guilliman might truly have believed Zhou Yun’s professed love for all life in the galaxy.

Slowly lowering his hand from his brow, Saint Guilliman turned his gaze back to Zhou Yun.

He had come to this realm because he had recently sensed that the Domain of Malicious Artifice was no longer chaotic—it had become calm, orderly, clearly because Zhou Yun had completed its structure.

Then, a sudden inspiration struck Saint Guilliman’s mind, urging him to visit this realm and check on Zhou Yun’s condition.

Now he saw: it was Zhou Yun who had planted that inspiration in his mind, to summon him.

“So?” Saint Guilliman asked, wanting to know why Zhou Yun had called him.

“Fabius Bael is seeking new support. This old herbalist has hit a bottleneck in his research on New Humans—he’s trying to steal the Source Blood Stack from Kael.”

“If he succeeds, he truly could create New Humans whose physical capabilities approach those of the Primarchs.”

Zhou Yun spoke to Saint Guilliman while biting into a tongluo cake.

“But that’s not the most dangerous part. More important than the New Humans is Fabius Bael himself.”

“Long ago, the Luna Cult stole power from the Warp and crafted the Blight, implanting it within the Children of the Emperor.”

“Six or seven tenths of that power came from Gluttonous Dissolution; a small portion came from Malicious Artifice—it was an unhatched egg of a minor godhood.”

“For ten thousand years, that seed has voraciously drained Fabius Bael’s vitality and creativity, and has now taken preliminary form—a cocoon.”

“The New Humans Fabius Bael created revere him as their creator, worship him, and nourish him in turn.”

“If he truly succeeds in creating New Humans with Primarch-level capabilities who can reproduce freely, he will emerge from the cocoon, ascend as a minor god, and become one of the contenders for Gluttonous Dissolution.”

Saint Guilliman’s expression darkened slightly.

He had sensed it too.

His prophetic ability had let him hear, in the near future, a piercing insect chirp.

He had seen a broken cocoon, with withered butterflies and spiders bursting forth, rising into the Warp amid a throng of grotesque lifeforms, then endlessly laying eggs, multiplying, birthing more and more malformed creatures.

It was Fabius Bael.

Saint Guilliman understood: Zhou Yun sought Gluttonous Dissolution, and Fabius Bael’s actions stood in his way.

“Should I eliminate him?” Saint Guilliman asked softly.

“No,” Zhou Yun shook his head with a smile. “I was the one who spurred Fabius Bael’s breakthrough in New Human research. The inspiration to steal the Source Blood Stack—it was I who planted it in him.”

Saint Guilliman raised an eyebrow slightly, sensing vaguely what Zhou Yun intended.

“Fabius Bael is the bait I’ve raised. I want him to swallow the Source Blood Stack.”

“Of course, it must be done naturally, cleverly—he must endure great hardship before finally consuming it.”

“Send Fulgrim to obstruct him. You, Guilliman, and Leman Russ must not interfere in this matter.”

Zhou Yun finished one tongluo cake and pulled another from his pocket.

“Then you must give us something to do, delay our steps—otherwise it’ll be too obvious,” Saint Guilliman nodded.

“The Tau Empire is currently erupting in Iron Men rebellion—its internal state seems vibrant, teeming with life—but the Tau Empire will ultimately quell the rebellion.”

“But not because they’ve truly won. The AIs will sink beneath the surface and hide. Afterward, they will lose all AI technology; production will suffer massive damage; resources will fail to meet demand; living conditions across all social strata will plummet rapidly.”

“The hidden AIs will further incite social tensions, stoke conflicts between castes and races, and escalate internal strife within the Tau Empire.”

“Soon, some Tau will be struck by an inspiration: if things are this chaotic inside, why not redirect the conflict outward?”

“The hidden AIs will aid this inspiration, cultivating the right social atmosphere among them, pushing the Tau Empire to stake its entire fate on a full-scale war against Ultramar.”

Now Saint Guilliman understood why the Iron Men rebellion in the Tau Empire had persisted, escalating yet never exploding into total conflict—it was to give the Tau a chance to redirect their internal strife.

“But that’s not enough,” Saint Guilliman shook his head. “The Tau Empire isn’t worth the involvement of three Primarchs.”

“Khorne will join. I’ve found him a new Chosen—the Blood God’s tide will churn the entire battlefield.”

“And the Orks. Such a grand war will draw the attention of the Bonegrinders—the Green Tide will swamp the entire theater.”

The Blood God—Saint Guilliman’s gaze shifted slightly, his eyes filled with surprise.

He had never imagined Zhou Yun had manipulated Khorne into his scheme.

“The three of you will be temporarily held back by this chaos. Fabius Bael, meanwhile, will seize the opportunity to act quietly, unobtrusively, naturally.”

“Fabius will face obstacles, of course—but he will ultimately succeed through his own efforts in obtaining the Source Blood Stack. What a moving struggle.”

“Then, a great fish will swallow it whole.”

Fabius Bael was certain he had come silently, unnoticed by anyone.

His clones were moving through the galaxy, drawing the attention of the stars, allowing him to operate in the shadows.

Fabius Bael himself, utterly unremarked upon, had arrived at this planet hidden within the Warp.

It was the vacation world of the Lord of the Phoenix, and Fabius Bael knew its location only because the technology required to design the planet had originated from his own hands.

Bael’s boot scraped against the delicate skin of a maiden, leaving faint scratches.

As Bael took another step, a swarm of tiny spiders crawled out from beneath the torn skin, tearing away the patch and vanishing back into the hidden burrows beneath.