Warhammer: Starting as a Planetary Governor Chapter 680: Savior — Linking to the Goddess of Life, and Fa

The smoke of battle had not yet fully dissipated.

A luxurious dark-gold sailcraft drifted slowly toward Alaitoc’s central habitation district.

"Alaitoc’s troubles are even more severe than I expected..."

Eden stood on the terrace, looking down over the aged residential zone as the taint of Slaanesh rolled in like a wave.

Perhaps others could not sense it, but his psychic perception was razor-sharp. He spotted the problem at once.

No matter how hard Alaitoc’s seers tried to conceal it, they could not hide this world’s creeping decay.

It was suffering comprehensive erosion by Slaanesh. Hairline fractures were being born bit by bit.

A crisis poised to erupt in full.

Everywhere his gaze reached, once-exquisite architecture seed coated in an invisible ash. Forests were drying out. Rivers were turning murky.

He could even hear the world’s life groaning. Even the Infinity Circuit that once covered the craftworld no longer felt nimble. Its flow had beco sluggish and obscure.

Eden looked deeper into the sky over the central habitation district. There, he sensed a life as pure as an elf in essence, its psychic nature like a breeze brushing the face.

She was sustaining the Infinity Circuit.

That presence was, in all likelihood, Alaitoc’s High Farseer, the highest authority on this craftworld.

Though Aeldari rule was relatively loose, built largely on faith. People obeyed the High Farseer out of reverence.

Eden could clearly feel she was supporting it with extre difficulty, already near her limit.

But after confirming the information, he swiftly withdrew his psychic sense and did not probe further.

Otherwise, what would that be if not peeping? He was a civilized man.

"That’s probably why Alaitoc can’t repel invasions easily. Not only can the High Farseer not disengage, but most of their fighting strength has also been committed to suppressing Chaos’s corrosion.

"From that perspective, Alaitoc has far more manpower than we estimated. After all, this is a world that survived the Vigilus at grinder.

"It’s likely even stronger than the Aeldari offshoots beyond..."

As Eden analyzed this craftworld’s condition, he grew rather satisfied.

The stronger Alaitoc was, the better it would be for him.

For Craftworld Aeldari to hold out this long in a at-grinder battlefield with broken-down gear ant they were elite even among their kind.

It was just a pity their resistance to Slaanesh was too low, leaving them weakened.

But that was also a good thing. It ant he could exploit the opening, "communicate" more deeply, and take this craftworld at an extrely low cost.

Eden’s lips curved slightly.

"If I’m not mistaken, Alaitoc’s seers are racking their brains trying to figure out how to politely escort , their Commorragh cousin, out of here.

"But seeing our kin suffer here, how could I possibly bear to leave?"

He had already made up his mind. He would stay here and refuse to go.

Not only would he not leave, he would move in and "deliver warmth" to the local kin.

A craftworld of this scale was a perfect mobile combat platform. It could carry an ocean of troops.

Paired with his fleet, it would be an unbeatable combination.

That, in fact, was one of the reasons humanity had always struggled to defeat the Aeldari. The Drukhari had Commorragh and road everywhere. The Harlequins were an elite force that could traverse the Webway freely.

Their mobility was extre. Humans could scarcely pursue them.

As for the Craftworld Aeldari, it was even more outrageous. They fought from a craftworld, essentially a colossal turtle shell.

Normally, the cost of invading a craftworld was enormous, harder than taking a planet.

And even if the Craftworld Aeldari were truly driven to extinction’s edge, they could still flee through the Webway.

Only an omnipresent existence like Slaanesh could use Warp corruption to inflict such heavy damage on the Aeldari that they had nowhere to run.

It could be said the Aeldari had been fighting under a massive debuff all along.

If he could control them and restore their souls, they would inevitably erupt with terrifying combat power.

Eden knew that no matter what, he had to take this Aeldari craftworld. It would bring imnse assistance to the campaign to conquer the Vigilus region.

After thinking it through, he issued orders to his subordinate legions.

They were to ready themselves for combat and be prepared to assu control of the Alaitoc craftworld at any mont.

Before long, the luxurious dark-gold sailcraft ca to a gradual stop. Any further advance would likely trigger a conflict.

Eden did not fuss over it. Under the escort of elite heavy-armored warriors, he headed toward the gangway.

...

Outside the luxurious dark-gold sailcraft, Fahsimir, Fuke, and the rest had already prepared to receive the "great Asurn."

Originally, Fahsimir and the other children of Alaitoc still held a trace of wariness and dislike toward their Commorragh kin.

They did not want to welco that existence according to their distant kin’s etiquette, because they were Alaitoc’s people, not Asurn’s slaves.

What was more, the children of Alaitoc had faintly sensed their Commorragh kin’s contempt. The others seed unwilling to set foot on this holand.

As if they feared being sullied.

That deepened Alaitoc’s humiliation. Problems tangled together, and it even triggered a standoff between both sides at one point.

Alaitoc wanted their Commorragh kin to leave imdiately.

Yet as the luxurious dark-gold sailcraft approached, an inexplicable majesty and montum pressed down, and Alaitoc’s people fell silent despite themselves.

They stared up at that lavish conveyance, a sight they had never seen before.

Even though Alaitoc preached austerity and self-discipline, they could not deny that the craft’s splendor matched every strain of their aesthetic.

As if this was how the Aeldari were ant to be.

More importantly, as Asurn’s magnificent conveyance arrived, the children of Alaitoc felt their depleted, dwindling souls settle, as though they were faintly sheltered.

Even if it was only the slightest trace, it brought their souls a small comfort.

"By the Skein of Fate... what a holy, precious creation..."

Fahsimir’s soul had long since been exhausted to the limit, so she felt it more strongly than anyone.

That sensation of a soul parched to the extre, and then a thread of dew falling upon it, was unbearably precious.

But when she saw the statue of the Goddess of Life embedded upon the luxurious dark-gold sailcraft, she was shaken to her core.

Fahsimir knew that being. The Aeldari’s ancient Goddess of Life, Isha.

And more importantly, that entire statue had been carved from an enormous, pure spirit stone.

A spirit stone more than ten ters tall?!

That massive idol was a single piece of spirit stone?!

It was not only Fahsimir. Every child of Alaitoc present was stunned beyond words. They could not imagine why "Asurn" would use sothing so precious as decoration.

That was a rare sacred relic as valuable as their very lives.

Yet the warriors of Redemption Elysium had long since grown accustod to it.

Spirit stones were fashioned from a psycho-reactive Aeldari crystal. At the instant an Aeldari died, the stone would absorb their soul.

In legend, it was the tears of the Goddess of Life Isha that granted spirit stones their power, providing shelter for the Aeldari.

So that their souls would not fall into the Dark Prince’s mouth.

Afterward, the spirit stone could be returned to a craftworld and set into the Infinity Circuit, blending with other Aeldari souls to beco part of the holand’s spirit.

One could say spirit stones were the Aeldari’s only ans of avoiding the ultimate horror.

If they did not want their souls to be captured by the Dark Prince and dragged into a fate worse than death, they had to wear a spirit stone as a talisman.

The problem was that spirit stones were extrely difficult to obtain. Their only source was the ancient Crone Worlds.

Those worlds lay drowned within the Eye of Terror. For the Aeldari to enter and obtain spirit stones was a near-certain death sentence.

It ant they had to risk fully exposing themselves under the Dark Prince’s gaze, just to harvest those rare sacred relics from the Crone Worlds.

It was close to impossible. Very few returned successfully.

That was why, to the Aeldari, spirit stones were an irreplaceable, nonrenewable resource, to the point they would risk their lives to recover them on the battlefield.

However, for Eden, this was not much of a problem. With the Terror Legion’s presence, many regions of the Eye of Terror were practically his backyard.

Spirit stones were not particularly precious to him.

Not only could he obtain them from the Crone Worlds, he could also, through certain ans, make the Goddess of Life Isha shed a few tears, producing even purer spirit stones.

In essence, it was simply a crystallization of psychic energy.

In any case, "Asurn’s" extravagance directly overwheld the children of Alaitoc.

What difference was there between that and embedding their very lives into a conveyance as ornantation?

Many spirit stones that Aeldari depended on for survival were no larger than a fingernail. A piece that huge could shelter who knew how many lives.

"That Lord Asurn has the Skein of Fate’s blessing. He is even stronger than we imagined..."

That was Fahsimir’s conclusion.

If that being could obtain such whole, pure spirit stones from the Crone Worlds, his strength must be terrifying.

Then, under everyone’s gaze, the warriors of the great Asurn stepped onto Alaitoc’s ground first.

Each black-armored warrior was far taller than a normal Aeldari. Their heavy armor was inlaid with thin shards of spirit stone that glittered brightly.

So that they could resist corrosion in any environnt.

More importantly, their souls were unbelievably full, brimming with power.

Fahsimir and the other children of Alaitoc stared at the black-armored warriors, and a trace of wariness rose despite themselves.

They could sense the other side’s combat power. These warriors might be able to slaughter every Guardian here.

At so point, a fine rain began to fall from the sky.

"What is that? Such a pleasing fragrance..."

Fahsimir and the others stood beneath the drizzle and imdiately felt lighter.

What fell was perfu made from a soul tonic. It could temporarily ease the soul’s dryness.

But to the great Asurn, it was rely a thod of freshening the air.

If Eden had not wished to appear more approachable, Ilyss would have even wanted to use a force field to block out all of Alaitoc’s air.

Better yet, travel by anti-grav disc, never letting even a foot touch this land.

At last, beneath the crowd’s awed gaze, Eden stepped onto Alaitoc’s ground.

His eyes swept over the kneeling masses. He signaled for them to rise with a look, and offered a faint smile.

That reduced the crowd’s pressure and shaped a greater sense of approachability.

A ruler’s appearance was never casual. It was carefully planned.

He was the center of attention. Every movent, even every expression, delivered information to the onlookers.

When Fahsimir saw the great Asurn, like the other children of Alaitoc around her, she could not help but hold her breath.

And, involuntarily, she followed the crowd in saluting him.

That existence stood slightly taller than even the black-armored warriors.

He wore a splendid dark-gold robe. His figure was elegant and perfect, his face handso without losing its power, and his blue eyes shone brilliantly.

A different kind of presence poured from him, instantly drawing every gaze.

Fahsimir’s ears twitched. She admitted it. This mysterious being before her was the most elegant, most nobly imposing Aeldari she had ever seen.

And he was easygoing, not so aloof and untouchable.

"Perhaps only an existence like this could forge such a powerful army?"

That was the thought in her mind.

This was Eden’s intent. A grand, oppressive formation contrasted with his own easygoing manner.

It would deepen everyone’s impression of him and amplify his approachability.

If, in a public setting, he could scoop up an adorable child, it would shape his image even more.

Guilliman liked that style. Wherever he went, he brought a children’s choir. Even seated upon a throne, he would have children sit along its sides all the way down the steps.

Of course, so people were acting, but Guilliman truly did have compassion, treating those lives with kindness.

As for Eden, he was genuinely easygoing. His "majestic" image relied entirely on forcing the pose.

Fahsimir watched as "Lord Asurn" moved closer. Suddenly, she realized he glanced her way and smiled at her.

"Does he... know ?"

The beautiful warrior was startled. For reasons she could not explain, she felt as though he had seen her before.

In truth, Eden had seen her earlier through the mutated Hive Tyrant’s eyes. She had been terrified then.

It had left an impression.

As Fahsimir’s thoughts turned, her body suddenly trembled. It felt as if sothing gently stroked her soul.

Her weary, depleted soul was flooded with indescribable comfort, like sweet dew falling on cracked earth.

Fahsimir could not help letting out a soft sound, and even her ears turned crimson.

In that mont, she seed to see a distant maiden world’s erald paradise. A clear lake shimred faintly. Conifer forests whispered and rustled.

And she slled a fragrance of flowers mixed with rich soil, so enchanting it made her dizzy.

The beautiful warrior followed the scent and realized the source of the dew and fragrance within her soul was, impossibly, that Asurn.

That being was like a spirit stone purified to the absolute extre, constantly radiating the Skein of Fate’s blessing.

It drove away the Dark Prince’s greedy gaze and sheltered the children of Alaitoc’s parched souls.

It made Guardians like her feel a comfort they had never known before.

"The Skein of Fate has favored us..."

Fahsimir wore no spirit stone. Her soul was dry to its very limit, so that sensation was doubly intense.

It was relief beyond imagining.

So much so that she could not stop trembling, and even her long legs began to soften.

Fahsimir did not know what was happening. She only knew that the closer she was to that being, the more shelter the Skein of Fate granted.

She could not help stepping forward.

Not only her. More and more Guardians of Alaitoc could not resist drifting closer to the great Asurn.

Bzzzt—

"Stop!"

The black-armored warriors saw Alaitoc’s kin approaching their master. They ignited the force fields on their spears, spearpoints leveled toward the crowd.

"No need. Alaitoc would not harm a being who offers them redemption."

Eden imdiately stopped his warrior-guards. Smiling at the crowd, he said, "I am willing to walk with you, people of Alaitoc..."

This was his goal from the outset.

He had just linked to the Goddess of Life Isha, using her authority to release a large-scale force field to shelter the Aeldari souls in this region.

To display a miracle to the masses.

Ideally, before Alaitoc’s seer leadership could react, he would secure more support and worship.

Eden walked forward. More and more children of Alaitoc gathered around him, as if escorting him onward in a tide of devotion.

This was the might produced by the interweaving of his Angron-derived affinity authority and the Goddess of Life’s authority.

An Aeldari "arch-seductress," in effect.

Its only flaw was that maintaining such a psychic field through a remote link consud an enormous amount of power.

At first, out of awe, the children of Alaitoc kept so distance from the great Asurn, but that shelter made them inch closer, little by little.

Fahsimir was the sa. Pressed by the crowd, she drew closer, and closer.

Only when she felt Asurn’s intense aura did she suddenly snap back to herself and stop.

Then Fahsimir realized in shock that she was almost about to collide into that being’s arms, and he was smiling at her.

If she had not stopped in ti, she would have struck his psychic barrier.

What an offense that would be.

"I’m sorry, my... my respected Lord Asurn..."

In an instant, the beautiful warrior panicked. Even her ears began to burn as she hurriedly tried to retreat.

But with the crowd packed tight, there was nowhere for her to step back.

(End of Chapter)

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