Noticing the emotions of the Primarch before him, Lancelot finally felt at ease regarding the authenticity of his Emperor’s Original Blood.
It seemed he had still underestimated the power of the system.
As a transmigrator’s demonic cheat, in the old days of 3K-era Chinese manhua, the opening of a system always involved drawing something rarer than phoenix blood.
Fundamentally, this was no different from drawing the Emperor’s blood.
It was mainly the nature of this cesspit universe of Warhammer that had forced Lancelot to be somewhat suspicious.
And now, since the authenticity had been verified…
He had to carefully consider what things he could obtain in this mirror world.
With this in mind, Lancelot’s gaze abruptly shifted to the tube of blood in his hand.
If one asked what the strongest entity in Warhammer 40k was, it must inevitably be the Emperor of Mankind.
Although Lancelot had terrible luck and had unfortunately transmigrated into two Warhammer universes, thinking about it from another angle, this seemed capable of allowing the two Warhammer universes to mutually benefit each other!
Alone in one universe, the Emperor of Mankind cannot support the collapsing structure by himself.
But…
what if Lancelot’s existence linked the powers of the Emperors of Mankind from both universes together?!
The Imperium of Man in the Warhammer universe was intrinsically in a half-crippled state, but if two half-crippled universes helped each other, perhaps the situation could be reversed!
Thinking this, a stormy sea surged within Lancelot’s heart, and the look in his eyes as he gazed at the Primarch of the Twelfth Legion, Angron, also changed somewhat.
Then the most important thing right now was how to make this Primarch believe him, and this was actually simple.
Just openly bear false witness.
With this thought, Lancelot looked straight at the Primarch before him, put away the Emperor’s blood, and then stood with his sword and spoke: “Whether you believe it or not, during the 1K era, precisely when human civilization first began to sprout from Terra, I already knew of the existence of the Emperor of Mankind.” “At that time, he was not yet the Emperor of Mankind, but he was still willing to dedicate himself to the human race.
I witnessed him incarnate as St.
George to defeat the shards of the Void Dragon; I witnessed him incarnate as da Vinci to paint masterpieces on canvas.
I witnessed the rise and fall of humanity, and likewise witnessed him launch the magnificent Great Crusade.” “He once asked me to join him in realizing his dream.
I did not agree immediately, but chose to wait and see.
But at that time, I agreed to one of his requests…
to leave a seed of hope for his future, for the future of humanity!” “So he gave me a vial of his blood and completely forgot my existence, and I, true to my mission, have preserved it until now!” Lancelot spoke without blushing or skipping a heartbeat.
He had already said these words once before, so speaking them again at this moment was exceptionally fluent for him.
And as these words came out…
all the loyal Astartes monks of the Twelfth Legion in the gladiatorial arena, including their Primarch Angron, looked at Lancelot, their pupils falling into a sort of clear bewilderment.
The gaze with which they looked at Lancelot had changed from looking at a mysterious Astartes to looking at a mysterious ancient fossil.
What do you mean you already knew the Emperor during the 1K era?
What do you mean the Emperor of Mankind once asked you to realize his dream alongside him?
It was not that such people did not exist in the Imperium.
The long-dead Regent of the Imperium of Man, the Perpetual Malcador, was one of them.
And now…
Malcador the Sigillite is already dead, and you suddenly pop out and tell the current Primarch and Astartes that you are a Perpetual just like Malcador?
If Lancelot hadn’t just brought out the Emperor’s blood, Angron would only think that the person before him was nothing more than a bold and reckless madman!
But when the Emperor’s blood appeared in Lancelot’s hand, Angron’s perception as a Primarch—infinitely clearer than that of an Astartes—and a resonance almost engraved deep within his soul, told him an indisputable answer.
That was indeed the blood of his father, the Emperor of Mankind!
And what did that mean?
Even the Primarch felt dizzy over this.
Today…
the Emperor, heavily injured, sits upon the Golden Throne.
In the game of chess against the four Chaos Gods, he had already wagered his entire body, all his flesh and blood, and even his soul upon the gambling table…
Now he had lost everything, only able to sit upright upon the Golden Throne maintaining the Imperium of Man’s shattered hope.
And this tube of Emperor’s blood…
what was it equivalent to?
To a gambler who was already destitute and down-and-out, this was like an old friend he didn’t know suddenly appearing in his battered and torn little shack.
This old friend was holding a gold brick engraved with the gambler’s name!
And the friend told the gambler that this gold brick was one he had once given to him, and now, he would use this gold brick to contribute to the rebuilding of the crumbling human empire!
Putting it this way might seem slightly exaggerated.
After all, how could the current Emperor’s blood possibly be compared to just a gold brick?!
Vroom, vroom, vroom!
Within the gladiatorial arena, the thirteen golden pillars of light began to roar and erupt with brilliant light.
This cage actually had the participation of the Emperor’s power itself.
And upon feeling a tube of his own blood suddenly appear in the material universe, the freezing sun within the Warp also surged and burned fiercely!
The daemons and Chaos Gods within the Warp also felt that the Emperor had been violently stirred by something!
“!!!” The Blood God Khorne cast his gaze over, but only found that the place was the homeworld of the Twelfth Legion, Nuceria.
As for anything more, it was obscured by the shadow of the Anathema and some mysterious power, making it completely impossible to pry even the slightest bit!
He did not ponder why his line of sight was blocked, nor why the Anathema was attracted over there!
He merely laughed heartily, hammered the Brass Throne, and subsequently issued his command!
“Launch a crusade against Nuceria!” The Blood God prepared to investigate the situation in the most direct manner.
Eighty-eight daemon armies, led by eight Greater Daemons of Khorne, began to advance toward Nuceria.
And in other places, the situation was exactly the same!
Within the bedchambers of Slaanesh!
Even the Dark Prince, wallowing in pleasure, reacted to this commotion.
When he discovered that it was the planet Nuceria, terrifying, sinister laughter emerged from within the seven veils.
Ah, the Lord of Red Sands!
What an unwaveringly steadfast existence!
He had long wanted to pull him into his palace to pamper him wantonly, to see what kind of depraved, joyful expression the hope of the Imperium would reveal amidst his pampering!
Sixty-six daemon armies, led by six Greater Daemons of Slaanesh, likewise began to set off toward Nuceria!
But even so, to the Warp, this was also a perfectly ordinary day.
The newborn Slaanesh was already restless, and the Blood God was a Chaos God whose very vocation was war.
No matter when, he thirsted for blood, and launching wars was a matter of course.
What truly caused the entire Warp to become agitated were the other two factions, which were originally considered calm.
Within the domain of Nurgle, amidst those foul-smelling spore clouds, the Grandfather, representing decaying life, originally did not want to get involved.
But…
the Warp fluctuations stirred up by the other guys caused the Warp power of that planet to abruptly rise.
Consequently, through his divine purview, he faintly sensed a life force appearing on the planet of Nuceria that should not have originally appeared—a life force that made him incomparably covetous!
That was the life force of the Anathema!
Even the usually peaceful Lord of Pestilence became excited.
A lineup of seven Greater Daemons of Nurgle, accompanied by seventy-seven armies of Nurgle, similarly surged toward the direction of Nuceria!
Within the Warp, with the three Chaos Gods taking such action, the one known as the Changer of Ways, Tzeentch, was also inside his palace at that moment, convulsing with excitement!
“A change never before anticipated!
What exactly happened on Nuceria!
Why is there not a single thread of fate upon that planet?!
Too wonderful, this is simply too wonderful!” The Changer of Ways shrieked.
He himself was the deity who governed all variables and fate, but at that moment, he had captured a change that exceeded his prophecies.
This naturally made him uncontrollably delighted!
The daemon armies representing his sacred number of nine also began to assemble!
The Warp boiled and agitated unimaginably.
Any psyker could feel that it seemed the gaze of the entire cosmic Chaos had entirely focused upon the planet of Nuceria!
(t/n: ha?
a dark angel existing before his primarch in the 1k era?
yes babes.
Thaniel_a_goodchild.