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Now reading: Chapter 693 - 692: Setting Coordinates in the Formless Waste from Warhammer: The 11th Primarch - The Black Emperor, a Action novel by DaoistJinzu.

Santiago's eyes blazed with starlight. He opened his mind to perceive this special region of the Great Ocean.

The ntal streams of countless beings constantly ford and dissolved, surging into swirling vortices.

The vortices collided, leaping with blazing light, illuminating this region like stars.

Stars of various sizes and shapes, emitting eerie light, were scattered within.

With a thought, the Daemonologist activated the psychic circuits embedded in his armor. The runes on two of his six COG Drones lit up in response.

Light blazed in his eyes. He ntally visualized the coordinates he had perceived from the data-crystal.

Streaks of starlight shot from his eyes, like teors across the scene.

At first, they scattered, like unbound celestial bodies.

After three seconds, two streaks shot towards the sa point. The remaining starlight gradually converged on one star.

Locked!

He raised his psychic staff. The engraved runes blazed:

House Borgkamp runes for power. Vlaka runes for positioning. The full-fledge "Astrologer's" runes for locking. Aeldari runes for dinsional teleportation.

Dazzling light blazed, enveloping him and his six COG Drones.

Specks of brilliant starlight fell, condensing into a transparent bridge.

He stepped onto the starlight bridge. His COG Drones followed, holding their Bedrock-pattern bolters.

The bolters had been ritually inscribed by the Fifth Chapter's "Light Suppliants." Each round had been soaked in holy water.

His eyes blazing with starlight, he ascended the bridge.

Reality faded. Three-dinsional structure dissolved.

Twisting light and mist rose, shimring with magnificent light.

The mont he stepped onto the fifteenth step, the scene abruptly shifted.

He stood in the air. Crackling lightning filled his vision. Endless, transparent stairs pierced through the world, from sky to ground.

Towering pillars of fire, so leaning, so straight, tore the earth into blocks.

He looked around. He saw many shimring orbs.

He tracked one red-black orb. It rose like a bubble, reflecting a blurred image: a figure in a gleaming crown, laughing.

The orb drifted, crashing to the ground, stirring up mist.

With a rumble, the dream of so reality was etched into the Formless Wastes, becoming a black, elliptical stone, wreathed in pale red flas.

Thousands of orbs drifted around him. Not every one left an imprint. So burst into mist on collision, vanishing.

His gaze swept over a castle built of bones in the distance. He stepped down cautiously.

He perceived everything around him, the orbs. From a deep black orb, he felt the fearful dreams of those enslaved by the Drukhari. From a green orb, he caught the Ork's fantasy of being favored by Gork and Mork...

He gradually understood: 'As my Lord said in the data-crystal, every dream, nightmare, and illusion manifests in the Formless Wastes.'

The Warp is born from many emotions and thoughts, not just dreams, nightmares, and illusions. But the Formless Wastes are specifically born from such thoughts.

Perceiving this characteristic, he had an idea for marking the special coordinates.

He would distinguish this place among the countless dreams, nightmares, and illusions, thus pinpoint its location.

With this thought, the "Scribe's" mutated brain cells activated, forming complex symbols, dense patterns, and unique markers.

Orb after orb was analyzed, "Recorded."

The "Scribe" "Recorded" not only beyonders abilities, but also the customs and landscapes of various places.

He was now "Recording" the orbs of this place in the Formless Wastes, recording each dream, nightmare, and illusion in Dunnic and various markers in an ethereal book of spiritual energy.

Pages of red-black, deep black, pale green, and blue-purple rapidly ford and turned.

The psychic book grew thicker as his spiritual energy drained.

The seasoned "Scribe" discerned the differences in his "Recordings."

'"Recording" customs consus far less spiritual energy than recording beyonders abilities.'

The thought flashed through his mind as he continued "Recording."

"Ha!" The "Scribe's" book took shape. He breathed a sigh of relief, easing the fatigue from ntal focus and psychic depletion.

His eyes suddenly flickered. Searing heat, laced with a chill.

SWOOSH!

A creature with a bird's head and serpentine body, covered in yellow-green blotches, leaped out.

Two COG Drones' defense protocols activated. They raised their Bedrock-pattern bolters, aiming at the wolf-like, tiger-clawed daemon.

CRACK! CRACK!

Two gleaming golden rounds flew, as if through water, propelled through the rippling, colored waves.

The golden light grew brighter. With a short crack, they struck the daemon.

"Ah!" It let out a piercing shriek. Two large holes appeared on its body, surrounded by golden cracks.

Like shattering glass, its yellow-green body exploded, turning to ash in the flas.

'Weaker than expected.' He looked at the distant bone castle.

'A minor daemon born from the thoughts of a powerful daemon or Daemon Prince?'

He knew from the Black Emperor's data-crystal that the Formless Wastes were ho to many such daemons.

They were not fragnts of the Four. They were much weaker.

But this ant that the entity inhabiting that castle was a powerful daemon.

And with the death of his minor daemon, he would imdiately notice.

'I must complete the coordinate marking quickly.'

The "Scribe's" eyes flashed with the psychic book. He glanced at it as a whole. He imdiately noticed that most of the pages were blue-purple, interspersed with red-black, deep black, and pale green.

As the pages rapidly turned, his transhuman mind distinguished scene after scene:

An artist with disheveled hair, standing by the sea, an image of swimming fish forming in his mind.

A beggar, curled in a damp, foul pipe, drooling, imagining his pockets filled with Aquila coins, fine wine, and hive-city rat steaks before him.

...

Blue-purple represented illusions.

"This is a place of illusions." As he spoke, his spiritual energy surged.

Blazing symbols ford rapidly. The Dunnic symbol for "Place of Illusions" took shape, surrounded by blue-purple patterns.

He felt a mystical connection form between him and the established coordinates.

He had just completed the Black Emperor's command when an earth-shattering roar sounded.

He turned. A gigantic figure appeared atop the bone tower.

....

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

[email protected]/DaoistJinzu

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