Chapter 391 – Chaos Marines: Run! The Bandits Are Coming!!!

The Void.

The Dreamweaver sailed toward the Ulthwé Craftworld and docked nearby. Soon, a dark-gold landing craft flew toward the Craftworld's orbital port.

Upon receiving the message, Eden hesitated briefly but ultimately decided to head to the Craftworld.

As a gesture of goodwill.

In recent years, the Aeldari had been striving to save themselves. Occasionally, they even cooperated with the Imperium. Yvraine had even helped revive the Lord Regent of the Imperium.

He believed the Ulthwé Aeldari wouldn't be so irrational as to attack him at this moment.

Such an act would provoke the wrath of humanity, resulting in the Craftworld being caught in a pincer assault by both Chaos and Imperial forces.

Besides, he was confident he could retreat safely if necessary.

Of course, that only applied to these relatively restrained Craftworld Aeldari—those Puritan-like beings.

If he encountered the dark kin—the Drukhari—he'd rather shoot first than deal with the consequences.

Meanwhile—

A grotesque flagship streaked in yellow and red came barreling into view. The Orks had arrived, forming a three-way standoff.

The infamous warlord Blood-Eye had arrived.

The dark-gold landing craft entered the orbital port and flew straight into the interior of the Craftworld, heading for the Path Shrine where the Aeldari Farseers resided.

On the viewing deck—

"By the Emperor… These damned xenos know how to live."

Dante, fully armed and armored, stood at the Savior's side, muttering in awe.

The Imperium of Man had never truly conquered a Craftworld and had little understanding of what lay within. This was his first visit.

Eden lifted his gaze. For a moment, he felt as if he'd returned to a planet's surface.

The lighting was no different from sunlight. There were self-contained ecosystems—elegant, ornate white cities nestled within forests and rivers, all surrounded by natural biomes.

These nature zones provided renewable resources and breathable air for the Craftworld.

In addition, he could see orbital transport systems and formidable defensive structures.

Human engineering still couldn't replicate this kind of self-contained, planetary-scale ecosystem aboard a spacefaring platform.

And this was merely a trade vessel from the height of the ancient Aeldari Empire.

Eden nodded, sighing in admiration.

"These Craftworld Aeldari inherited the immense legacy of the ancient Aeldari Empire. Shame they're too superstitious to make real use of it all. All these good things, wasted…"

He noticed many areas had fallen into disrepair, buried under layered ruins and wild warp energy.

No maintenance, no repurposing.

Back in their prime, the Aeldari Empire had even rivaled the peak of humanity's Golden Age.

And now? The Craftworld Aeldari inherited relics of that zenith but couldn't even utilize them properly. What a waste.

Not that humanity was complaining.

In the Blood Nebula War, the Imperium had deployed numerous fleets to try and destroy just one Craftworld. They had failed.

This apex technology was too advanced to be broken by brute force.

If the Craftworld Aeldari could truly master and operate these masterpieces of lost tech, humanity wouldn't stand a chance.

As the landing craft neared the Path Shrine—

Eden sensed the surge of psychic energy in the air. These forces moved through circuit-like structures, with countless souls traveling along them.

What he saw was the core of the Craftworld's power: the Infinity Circuit.

To put it simply—it was a perpetual motion machine fueled by souls, offering endless psychic energy as its power source.

Far more advanced than the Savior's own warp-siphoning tech back home. His machines were glorified pumps compared to this.

Even more astonishing, the Infinity Circuit wasn't just a power generator—it was also a soul archive. It offered guidance to the living and nourishment to Aeldari gods through belief.

The Craftworld Aeldari wore spirit stones. Upon death, their souls would be drawn into those stones, then absorbed into the Infinity Circuit—preventing their consumption by Slaanesh.

Self-sustaining. Self-contained.

If the Savior's domain had such a marvel, wouldn't it be equivalent to a man-made heaven?

His worshippers could die knowing their souls wouldn't be devoured by the Warp, but instead find peace within this construct.

Hummm—

A faint spatial fluctuation drew Eden's attention.

He turned his head and saw a familiar black structure rising nearly a kilometer tall.

A small Webway gate.

The Craftworld had its own Webway tunnel, allowing ships and armies to traverse vast distances across the galaxy.

"Damn… What a luxury…"

Eden sucked in a breath. Even their cargo ships had Webway access. It was hard to imagine what the Aeldari Empire was like at its peak.

Fortunately, this Webway gate was small. It looked partially ruined and probably couldn't handle much traffic.

Certainly not big enough for warships.

From what he knew, Aeldari usually traversed the Webway in small units—often on foot.

Thinking about it now… he wasn't so poor after all.

Eden watched all this unfold inside the Craftworld, practically drooling.

If he could get his hands on one of these Craftworlds, dissect their ancient tech—especially the Infinity Circuit…

Wouldn't that make him rich beyond measure?

He was even tempted to abandon the raid plan and just loot the Craftworld Aeldari outright.

But he held back.

It would be too dishonorable. And besides, his current fleet likely couldn't take them on. Better to wait until a more hostile Craftworld crossed his path.

Suddenly, a red object blazing smoke streaked across his field of vision, accompanied by a deafening roar.

"Damn greenskins!" Dante clearly wasn't happy.

"Since the Orks are here too, we should probably hurry…"

Eden cast a glance at the speeding Ork ship, frowning.

Inviting these chaotic creatures might cause unexpected trouble. He'd need to stay alert.

Before long—

The Savior's party reached the Path Shrine.

The grand hall was filled with statues of Aeldari gods. Some residual divine power could still be felt.

Especially the goddess of life—her statue was vivid and lifelike, exuding vitality.

But the Aeldari likely didn't know… Their goddess was currently suffering in Nurgle's Garden.

Eden had no interest in admiring the statues. He walked straight into the tri-faction meeting room, hoping to finalize the alliance and march on the Eye of Terror.

The Aeldari Farseer approached—his forehead adorned with a gemstone, body cloaked in psychic robes, elegant in bearing.

He leaned on a blade-like staff and spoke:

"Savior, you propose an alliance—what's your plan?"

At that moment, the Ork Warlord Blood-Eye also stepped forward.

This Ork was the largest one present. His massive armored body exuded pure menace.

Blood-Eye growled:

"Oi heard there's gonna be a big war. Go into the Eye of Terror. And we gotta work with these twiggy beansprouts?

You'd better not be lyin'. Or else…"

"Waaagh!!!"

Blood-Eye bellowed, his roar making Aeldari priests tremble.

He seemed pleased by their fear and added, "As for the alliance—talk to my Smart Boss!"

He stepped aside to reveal a shorter figure, surprisingly well-dressed and cunning.

"Farseer… Lord Savi—Savior,"

The Ork, clad in a wrinkled formal suit, gave a slight bow, eyes gleaming slyly.

"I'll be handling the negotiations for Boss Blood-Eye."

"…What the hell?!"

Eden nearly blurted it out.

Because this "Smart Boss" was none other than Iron Pry, the envoy he had sent to the Ork Empire months ago to persuade their warlord to join the alliance.

Not only had he succeeded—he'd climbed into their leadership.

Some people really did shine wherever they went.

And Ork logic wasn't something normal humans could predict.

After arriving, Iron Pry had dazzled the Orks with his "wisdom."

Apparently, he even resolved the infamous "Big Boss vs. Hairy Boss" internal feud. No one knew how.

Probably some sort of warped dialectics.

As an elite graduate of Loyal Sons Academy, Iron Pry had truly learned the trade.

In just a few months—

He'd earned Blood-Eye's full trust, mingled with top Ork brass, and quietly spread conspiracy theories among them.

He even collaborated with Ork "scholars" to debate whether the Orks had their own "Big Boss" backing it up with mysterious stories and strange coincidences.

He almost had them believing it.

Eden was very pleased with Iron Pry's performance. He would have to give him more room to shine in the future.

Without wasting more time, Eden took control of the negotiations.

Naturally.

He was the alliance's founder and possessed the detailed attack routes and schedules. Besides, two out of the three factions were essentially his own.

Even with his eyes closed, he'd walk away with the biggest share.

The following negotiations focused on task assignments and division of spoils.

Roughly: 60% for the Savior. The rest split between the Aeldari and Orks.

And whatever loot they couldn't use or carry—he'd take it.

With Iron Pry's help, the talks moved swiftly and smoothly.

Everyone left satisfied.

As for who would spearhead the attack? Of course the Ork fleet would.

Try stopping them—they'd riot.

Blood-Eye was pleased.

Iron Pry had earned him the right to lead the charge and decide whether to fight or not.

To Blood-Eye, this was personal.

His forces had once been ravaged by Chaos and forced to flee. Even after rebuilding, his attempts to retaliate had failed due to enemy ambushes.

The problem? No reliable route into the Eye of Terror. Every time he used his "Lucky Drive" to locate a Chaos-held planet, they were ambushed before they could strike.

This had become a stain on the Ork Empire's honor.

Now that the humie shrimp had offered him a chance—he'd never pass it up.

The Aeldari Farseer had no objections either.

Any strike against Chaos in the Eye of Terror aligned with the very purpose of the Ulthwé Aeldari sentinel world.

Until the day the Aeldari reclaimed their ancient homeworlds—this mission would continue.

After the three-way talks concluded—

The fleets of the Savior, the Ulthwé Aeldari, and the Ork warlord Blood-Eye began to gather.

The Craftworld Aeldari did not participate directly in the expedition—their Craftworld was simply too massive and slow-moving. Entering hostile space would make it an easy target.

After Eden had assembled a massive expeditionary fleet—over a thousand capital ships, plus numerous battle groups—he led the entire force into the Eye of Terror.

They vanished into the swirling black vortex…

—

The Eye of Terror Region

The stars here no longer shone. They were so dim, they might as well have gone out entirely.

The roiling, warped storm that was the Eye of Terror dwarfed the other storms of realspace. Enormous, ever-changing forms danced through the dense and murky void.

This was nothing like the stable galaxy humanity knew. It was a surreal realm where the immaterial and the material interwove—a domain of nightmare. No Astronomican light reached here.

A surviving Navigator once described his experience in the Eye:

"Psychic energy stretches in all directions for light-years, seeping into every inhabited space and mixing with the very air I breathed. I felt like I was drowning in charged foam. Madness swirled around me—I could find no path forward through the labyrinth."

To most psykers, the Eye appeared as a vast and kaleidoscopic distortion. Within, all forms—squares, horns, polyhedrons, rotating spheres—formed and collapsed endlessly.

Everything here was multi-dimensional and warped.

—

Inside a small recon ship

"Ugh… I'm getting dizzy…"

Eden closed his eyes and rubbed his brow.

He had just attempted wide-range psychic vision and immediately felt like he'd been tossed into a hyper-speed washing machine full of colorful kaleidoscopes.

It wasn't a pleasant feeling.

A less stable psyker would've gone insane on the spot.

He dialed back the scope and began scanning areas a few light-years away. He saw twisted planets and could even sense the warped, perverted minds on them.

He spotted a planet completely covered in tentacles—almost like a living being.

Grotesque.

But above all, he saw war. Chaos forces waging brutal campaigns against each other.

Without a massive reward or shared purpose, the Chaos warbands couldn't maintain unified campaigns. That was their greatest weakness—chaos itself.

Suddenly, Eden felt a surge of malicious intent.

It was a heavily mutated Chaos ship—small, but hideously colored in green, pale purple, and blood-red. It looked like a bloated dead fish.

Its prow had coral-like claws, and bright fins extended from its back.

This ship had spotted Eden's recon vessel—and was approaching with greedy, malicious intent.

But before it could get close, it suddenly froze in place—like it had seen something terrifying.

It had.

Behind the recon ship loomed a massive, aggressive fleet.

The Chaos ship flailed its fins desperately, trying to flee the danger zone.

But it was too late.

Several Ork warships shrieked forward and tore the thing apart.

Then they salvaged the wreckage for anything useful.

That was by order of the Ork Weirdboy and Smart Boss—Iron Pry.

He'd proposed the idea of "sustainable development," a clever scheme to enhance the Ork Empire's war potential.

And he had delivered.

Using the war factories of the Steel Fang clan, Iron Pry was running a full-scale weapons trade with Warlord Blood-Eye.

All approved by Eden himself.

After all, the Orks were based near the Eye of Terror and had been clashing with Chaos for centuries.

Supplying them with weapons was effectively reinforcing the Imperium's defenses in the region.

And perhaps… the first step toward infiltration.

"Tch. So dangerous out here, and they didn't even upgrade their sensors…"

Eden shook his head, pretending to pity the Chaos ship that wandered in.

Seriously, a puny little thing like that had the gall to approach him? Even the eight-kilometer-long Warp Kraken-like chaos entities had bolted the moment they saw him coming.

He was now the apex predator here.

—

Some time later—

Eden finally found the correct route through the chaotic region. He brought up the star map and began marking paths.

This map of the Eye of Terror included many danger zones:

Plague Planet: The Death Guard's base within the Eye—covered in green miasma and oozing volcanoes. A vile and fetid place.

Zodiarus: A pale blue planet wrapped in ever-shifting warp storms. The domain of a certain Tzeentch-aligned sorcerer lord who had since gone into hiding.

Eidolon Warzone: A region centered on the Chaos planet Eidolon—where the Gods of Chaos clash directly. Nearly every world here had been horrifically mutated in eternal war.

Eden skipped over these deadly areas and fixed his eyes on a specific region.

A fortress world hidden behind a dust nebula, fortified with forges and void bastions.

Savaagal—the Black Legion's stronghold and the target of the raid.

He marked the fastest attack route between his fleet and Savaagal.

The coalition fleet would sweep through the sector with overwhelming speed, crushing any resistance before Chaos could organize a counterattack.

They would strike Savaagal hard and fast.

Once the route was plotted, Eden ordered the recon vessel to return to the Dreamweaver, guiding the fleet along the correct path.

The war had begun!

—

Eden next led the fleet to assault a Chaos warband's planet.

Amidst blood, fire, and screams, the Chaos world was plundered and reduced to ashes.

The coalition swept forward along the route—burning, killing, looting. If a world proved too tough, they bombarded it and moved on.

Soon, the names "Devourer" and "Chaos Reaver" echoed across the sector, sowing fear wherever they went.

—

Chaos World – Cantos

The shadow of an enormous fleet blanketed the planet. Blazing bombardments lit up the skies. War platforms covered in rotting flesh and eyeballs crashed to the surface.

Explosions lit up the dark land.

Thud, thud, thud—

A towering black figure strode across the ruined ground. The fire and quakes seemed to welcome his arrival.

Behind him, a hastily painted black Titan crushed everything beneath its feet, accompanied by the roaring of Orks and the screams of Chaos lifeforms.

All life on Cantos wailed at his coming!

This world, once occupied by Tzeentch cultists and the Shardblade Chaos warband, had now been assaulted and pillaged by the Chaos Reavers. It burned.

Everything they once did to humanity—was now done to them. But worse.

BOOM—

Amidst the wreckage of a fallen warship—

"You… you dare strike me?"

The voice rasped from behind a warped helmet.

The Chaos Reaver's face was hidden, but his aura alone froze his attacker in place.

"Damn you, reaver!"

The Shardblade Chaos Marine wore shattered armor and a damaged power sword—clearly repaired far too many times.

Still, he summoned the courage to strike.

But Eden didn't even lift a finger.

Before the blow could land, Blood-Eye's Orks swarmed in, mercilessly beating the Chaos Marine into the dirt.

"No! You can't do this!"

The warrior screamed, "Lord of Schemes! Look at how your followers are treated! Curse them all!"

His rage came not from death—but from the shame.

The Orks didn't grant him a warrior's death. They pinned him down and stripped him of everything.

His weapon was seized, and his armor—along with parts of his twisted flesh—was cut away.

He roared in pain and fury.

That was all he had left.

To a Chaos Marine, losing their gear was worse than death.

He wasn't alone.

Other Shardblade Marines suffered the same fate. The Chaos Reavers took everything.

The Orks cheerfully collected the loot and tied up the prisoners.

They didn't kill the "smelly shrimp" (as they called them)—because Eden had other plans.

They could be traded for better Ork tech.

Eden nodded in satisfaction. These stripped-down Chaos Marines would be held in secret facilities.

Later, when the time was right—

His Chaos clones would "rescue" them, grant them powerful new weapons, armor, and blessings.

And gain their loyalty and gratitude.

They would become the founding members of a new Chaos force.

Eden raised his hand, and the Orks cheerfully dragged the captives aboard their ships.

All of them were Blood-Eye's boys.

Yet somehow, instinctively, they followed Eden's command.

This raid followed one clear rule:

Smash it. Loot it. Burn it.

The campaign progressed rapidly.

In just a few dozen hours—

The allied forces had captured Chaos Marines, pilots, slaves, weapons, armor, forge materials, and industrial equipment—and returned to space.

After one final bombardment, the Chaos Reaver fleet left to hunt new prey.

All that remained was a burning Chaos world.

—

On the bridge—

"We need to pick up the pace…"

Eden frowned as he stared at the Eye of Terror's starmap.

Half the planned raid route had been completed, but news of the attacks was spreading faster than expected.

He focused on a central hub.

Gallium—a forge world controlled by the Dark Mechanicum. It housed many Iron Warriors. A vital neutral zone and resupply point within the Eye.

And it stood directly in the fleet's path.

If resistance there proved too fierce, the delay could be disastrous.

The Chaos forces might unite and launch a counteroffensive.

If that happened—the entire fleet risked total defeat and annihilation…

(End of Chapter)

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