Warhammer: The 11th Primarch - The Black Emperor

Along the way, Marlena kept a vigilant watch on her surroundings.

The Exodites living in the Triken system had been crushed, but small roaming bands remained. From time to time, they launched raids on human territory.

Though they hadn't slowed the system's overall development, they had still caused considerable losses.

The "Harvest Priestess" was increasingly suspicious, especially about the strange blight afflicting the crops at Farm No. 5. Neither the Tech-Priests nor the "Planters" could solve it, which led her to suspect Exodite sabotage.

As she pondered this, the runes on her aircraft blinked; the craft had arrived at Farm No. 5.

The "Planter" Kerri was waiting in the aircraft docking zone near the farm. Upon seeing Marlena land, she quickly approached.

"Ma'am."

"Kerri, lead the way. I want to inspect the crops," Marlena said.

With bronze-hued skin, Kerri stepped aside to guide her.

"Per your instructions, I selected oats and beets, both suited to this world's conditions."

"This planet's soil is fertile, its sunlight and moisture are ideal for crop growth, perhaps even better than anywhere on our cradle world, Symphony of the Sea."

"The crops were thriving… until three days ago. They suddenly began to wither."

The "Planter" frowned deeply, her confusion evident.

"I've tended the fields diligently, never slacked off."

"After the blight appeared, the Tech-Priest and I worked hard to find the cause, but we still haven't figured it out."

As they spoke, they reached the fields.

Kerri walked to a sack of seeds. "Ma'am, I've prepared new seeds."

The "Harvest Priestess" nodded. She stepped toward the cone-shaped, withering crops.

First, she needed to diagnose the problem. Her tea-brown irises darkened, gazing into the dying plants.

In her vision, the plants' shapes warped. Yellow light was covered by a strange gray-black hue.

'As expected, something is wrong.'

Since her promotion from "Doctor" to "Harvest Priestess," her healing abilities had expanded; she could now cure diseases afflicting plants and farmland.

"I can heal them," she said and prepared to begin.

Suddenly, Marlena frowned. She sensed something rapidly approaching.

She looked up to see dinosaurs charging toward them, ridden by tall Exodite warriors whose faces were painted in wild tribal markings.

They held wooden spears and shrieked piercing war cries.

"The culprits have arrived," Marlena said calmly. "Hand me that seed bag."

Kerri quickly picked it up and handed it to her.

Seeing the two human women, the Exodites scattered and began to flank them from both sides.

The "Harvest Priestess" reached into the bag, grabbed a handful of seeds, and infused them with spiritual energy, rapidly catalyzing their latent life force.

In an instant, vines burst forth and spread outward, entangling the dinosaurs and their riders.

Over a dozen Exodites were caught off guard. They twisted their powerful arms, struggling.

The vines couldn't hold such strong foes for long, but Marlena had bought enough time.

She drew her staff from her back, raised her left hand high, and flung a specially bred, mutating spiked vine with her right.

After becoming "Harvest Priestess," Marlena had cultivated several unique plants for battle, which she carried with her.

Psychic lightning slashed across the sky, striking the Exodite riders.

They screamed and fell from their mounts.

At the same time, Marlena raised her right foot and stomped heavily.

Spiritual energy surged through her high-heeled boots into the mutant vines.

They grew wildly; what had been a forearm-length vine became a thicket of thorns, wrapping around the Exodite warriors.

The vines constricted them, and countless spikes suddenly shot out, piercing their bodies.

"Amazing, ma'am!" Kerri gasped, eyes wide.

The plants moved like extensions of her body, growing, twisting, and killing at her will.

"Now… It's time to heal the crops and the farmland," the "Harvest Priestess" said.

She pressed her right hand to the ground. Spiritual energy radiated outward. Within a 30-meter radius around her, the gray-black soil turned back to its original rich brown.

The rye stood tall again, long spikes like wolf tails, and full, dark purple husks.

Between the rye grew beets, shedding their lifeless color. Their spindle-shaped roots, ringed with vascular bundles, formed vivid red ripples on the cross-sections.

While Marlena healed the land, far away in the Triken system's outer defenses, the First Chapter's fleet maneuvered in a standoff with the Saim-Hann Aeldar Craftworld.

The red Craftworld was far larger than Howard's flagship, faster, more agile, and even more nimble in its turns.

Even the numerical advantage of the First Chapter's ships wasn't helping. Howard tried multiple formations.

Each time, the Aeldar Craftworld slithered through the gaps just before the net closed.

'Precognition!'

From prior interrogations, Howard had gained some understanding of the Eldar.

Their craftworld was led by "Farseers."

Powerful psykers among the Aeldar, these prophets used Divination to foresee and manipulate events, ensuring their species' survival.

Howard recalled the interrogation where an Aeldar Seer, after spilling secrets, glared at him in hatred. Blood dripping from his mouth, he shouted with his last breath:

"Mon-keighs… even if you… find the Vigilus Star…"

"That world… will never… belong… to you…"

"Only death… awaits you… and that Mon-keigh… Nareth…"

Howard clenched his fist, fury in his eyes.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.

'Father said: Find the weak point. Strike the enemy there.'

'The arrogant Aeldars looked down on us. Their pride… is their weakness.'

Howard stared at the holographic display, his mind racing as he devised a bait strategy.

He opened a command channel and gave orders:

"Turn to heading 1-8-5, starboard 2."

"Escort ship Orlando, turn to 3-7-1, starboard 4."

"In 2 hours 19 minutes, concentrated fire on coordinate 6-1-4."

Howard had decided: lay the bait, and strike hard.

The First Chapter's main ship and twele escort and destroyer ships spread out, forming a net, closing in on the Aeldar Craftworld.

The Arbiter Lord guided his flagship toward the lower edge of the net.

This left the upper ships exposed, but he believed the proud Aeldars wouldn't resist such bait.

Thirteen black ships surged toward the craftworld.

As soon as it entered firing range, the craftworld began to move, graceful and swift, dodging brilliant light-lances and dense torpedo barrages.

The Aeldar Farseer's eyes were deep and distant. To him, the warp was like an open canvas.

Red lines flickered across it, danger threads, enemy fire paths.

All of it, in his grasp.

Like before, the craftworld lunged at its Mon-keigh prey.

Just as the Farseer was about to give the attack order, a chill ran through his body.

'Something's wrong. The Mon-keigh fleet had been manipulated before, but never showed this obvious a flaw.'

'It's a trap!'

At the last second, he changed the command.

The red ark turned just before stepping into the trap.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Four battleships from the First Chapter landed direct hits on the craftworld's underside, but were repelled by the shields.

But the rest of the fleet's firepower narrowly missed the world-ship.

Howard clenched his fists tightly.

'Damn it.'

'The treacherous, serpent-worshiping Aeldar had slipped out of the trap at the last second.'

Just then, his earpiece buzzed with the excited voice of the Master of Vox:

"My lord, the Primarch has arrived!"

...

If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.

[email protected]/DaoistJinzu