In Warhammer, My System is Minecraft

Chapter 232: Armageddon, The War of the Beast

TL/N: Sorry but from today onwards we are back to 1 Chapter per day.

For those who don’t know the reason re-read the last Chapter’s note.

Next Goal = 1000 Powerstones.

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This was Redstone, the absolute cornerstone of Minecraft’s Redstone technology. From ordinary piston doors to massive, intelligent Redstone computers, none could function without it.

However, in the hands of someone like Zeke, it could at most serve as a medium connecting a pressure plate to an iron door, or be used to create some utterly useless, idiotic Redstone contraption meant only for a cheap laugh.

Fortunately, Zeke still possessed a general understanding of the principles behind various Redstone mechanisms. He wrote these principles down, crafted a complete set of Redstone components—Repeaters, Comparators, and the like—and had someone deliver them to Fulgrim.

With the genius-level intellect of a Primarch, he should figure it out in no time... probably, Zeke thought.

Zeke also hadn’t forgotten about the final synthesis of the Reaper’s Scythe.

The final two Croneswords given by Yvraine each possessed their own history and renowned prestige.

The first was Vilith-zhar, the Sword of Souls. Forged within the burning flames of wraiths, its form was fluid and ever-changing, much like a living creature. It was undeniably the strongest among the Croneswords, allowing its wielder to become an avatar of the God of the Dead.

The second was the Spear of Twilight, ranking second among the Croneswords. It could burn through its wielder’s life force, and with a single swing, it had once annihilated an entire Craftworld’s worth of Tyranids.

Zeke laid out the Reaper’s Scythe and the two Croneswords on the Crafting Table one by one. His expression was calm, but he had secretly prepared countermeasures. In case the God of Death actually resurrects, I need to be ready.A weapon should just behave like a weapon, Zeke thought to himself. Holding up his adamantium shield, he reached out from behind its cover and clicked ’craft.’

The five swords became one. When the fully complete Reaper’s Scythe finally manifested on the Crafting Table, it suddenly launched into the air like a bolt of black lightning, piercing straight toward the sky. It even knocked Zeke’s shield flying with a loud bang.

"My Scythe..." Zeke watched helplessly.

High above, darkness abruptly coalesced, pressing down with overwhelming force. A heart-stopping, illusory figure flickered within the gloom, climbing back into reality from eternal silence through sheer obsession, attempting to return.

Within the Imperial Palace, the Emperor cast His gaze upward.

Just as Zeke thought things were about to spiral completely out of control, the Reaper’s Scythe did not submit to the phantom’s summons. Instead, it resolutely slashed at the forming avatar.

The phantom shattered into dark specks of light, all of which were instantly sucked into the blade of the Scythe. Following this, the anomaly receded like a fading tide, and the Scythe clattered back to the ground.

Zeke kicked the Scythe a few times. After confirming it was safe, he picked it up. Its base damage had reached 500 points, and it had gained a new function: burning his own health.

Zeke tested this feature. Dark mist from the Reaper’s Scythe coiled around his arm, extending all the way across his entire body. His health bar was instantly cut in half, plummeting from 100 to 50, and then sharply down to 20 drops. Zeke decisively severed his resonance with the Scythe.

The price of burning his life force was that the Reaper’s Scythe expanded several times in size, and its base damage was doubled.

Zeke realized that the weapon effects of the Reaper’s Scythe seemed to have been inherited directly from the Croneswords: unleashing sword aura, burning health... Following this logic, the effect of becoming the avatar of the God of Death should have also been inherited.

Zeke tried it out—dripping blood to claim ownership, striking dramatic poses, cycling through every method he could think of. None of it worked, so he had to shelve the idea for now.

After inquiring about Malcador’s residence, Zeke found the Sigillite’s small cabin not far from the entrance to the Imperial Dungeons.

The wooden door swung open, revealing a small vestibule illuminated by flames burning in wall sconces. The only furniture here was a round table and two opposing high-backed chairs. A chessboard holding twenty pieces rested on the table.

Malcador had leaned his staff against the back of his chair and was dozing off in it. Dealing with the Imperium’s accumulated affairs over the past few days had proven overwhelming, even for a Perpetual like him.

The sound of Zeke closing the door immediately woke him. Malcador raised his eyes, gazing at the visitor. "Alas, in this day and age, rest is a luxury."

Hearing this, Zeke pointed back at the wooden door. "Should I leave then?"

Malcador coughed to ease the awkwardness. He knew Zeke wouldn’t seek him out unless it was absolutely important; this couldn’t be delayed.

True to Malcador’s expectations, Zeke immediately dropped a bombshell, introducing the Transmutation Table to the old man.

"What?! Say that again. What is the purpose of this object?" Malcador doubted his own ears.

"Let me just show you." Zeke pulled out the Transmutation Table to demonstrate. He glanced around, grabbed the other high-backed chair opposite Malcador, and tossed it in. The Transmutation Table gained 100 EMC.

"This high-backed chair of yours is quite expensive." Zeke was somewhat surprised; a simple chair held such high value.

It is carved from ancient mahogany, Malcador thought, his heart aching as he watched Zeke’s actions, though he didn’t stop him.

Zeke then casually picked up a marble-carved chess piece from the board and tossed it into the Table. 20 EMC.

"One of your high-backed chairs is worth five chess pieces." Zeke pulled out five identical, flawless copies of the chess piece from the Transmutation Table and placed them before Malcador.

Malcador lifted them using his psychic powers and inspected them closely. "Equivalent exchange... just as you said. Incredible."

Having verified the reality-defying function of this item, Malcador seemed to instantly de-age by several centuries, his face radiating with renewed vigor.

Using his psychic powers, he snapped a corner off the high-backed chair he was sitting on. He handed the piece to Zeke, inquiring about its value.

"It’s 80 now. It lost 20 EMC," Zeke said, looking at the Transmutation Table as he fed the broken chair into it.

"Give me a moment..." Since Zeke had now tossed both chairs into the Transmutation Table, Malcador was forced to stand. He leaned heavily on his double-headed eagle staff to steady his pounding heart.

Scrap iron, rubble, broken machinery... all the Imperial garbage that everyone turned a blind eye to now had a purpose. It could all be converted into value. And then, used to exchange for anything they needed.

Malcador felt that calling it ’equivalent exchange’ was somewhat inappropriate. This was clearly inequivalent exchange; their side would constantly be making a massive profit.

Trembling slightly with excitement, Malcador negotiated with Zeke. Zeke agreed to the request to convert some resources, providing various Imperial armaments and war machines.

However, Zeke charged a rather hefty brokerage fee, pocketing roughly fifty percent for himself.

He had no choice. Zeke had used the Transmutation Table to check the price of duplicating C’tan Shards. Since it involved the power of a god, the EMC value was terrifyingly high. Even after ransacking both Commorragh and Slaanesh’s domain, Zeke’s Transmutation Table had only accumulated about 500 million EMC points. A single C’tan Shard, depending on the strength of the C’tan it represented, cost anywhere from 200 million to 1 billion.

Equivalent exchange, equivalent exchange... you still have to be able to afford the price. Having successfully whetted Malcador’s appetite, Zeke waited in his camp for a while until the four Levitating Pylons promised by Trazyn were delivered. This was the entirety of the Necrons’ current inventory; the remaining Levitating Pylons were being constructed around the clock.

The actual Levitating Pylons were immensely huge and could not fit into his inventory. Zeke had them transported to Caliban and stationed them there.

Caliban was still hurtling toward a predetermined location, but Zeke noticed that the navigational course had been artificially altered.

"Lion, did you do this?"

"I modified it," Lion El’Jonson admitted. "Guilliman received a distress signal from a planet. The Ork threat there has erupted once again."

"Which planet?"

"Armageddon."

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