Starting from the Planetary Governor - Chapter 957

Chapter 948, So What Even if It’s a God

face Victor’s judgmental stance, the old woman’s mask remained motionless, her eyes unmoved. She simply bowed deeper.

“Witch spirits generally favor these creatures. Their assistance allows them to unleash greater strength, whether in daily research, prayer, or combat when necessary. Witch spirits can amplify their power or draw energy directly from them when necessary. Furthermore, their combat effectiveness is truly impressive, so we prefer to employ them.” “

This is the first time I’ve heard of the situation you describe. The secrets of the ancient universe are endless, and the Witch Spirit Cult has never documented this. Humans can actually reach an agreement with certain energy creatures. This led us to not thoroughly investigate their origins. We never expected them to be human spies. I accept responsibility for this and accept the punishment.”

Victor shook his head in disappointment.

“Old woman, old woman, at this point, you’re still trying to evade me with these claims?”

His fingers slid again.

The holographic projection suddenly switched, shifting from the battlefield to a bird’s-eye view. The words “Secret Archives of the Witch Cult – Shadow Corridor” were clearly labeled.

A familiar, translucent Storm Spirit’s body structure rippled in a perfectly rhythmic pattern. In sync with this pulsation, an inconspicuous prismatic psychic information terminal in a corner of the archives, with a highly concealed, pinpoint-sized rune interface on its side, flickered with an almost imperceptible glimmer.

This was receiving and transmitting information.

“This is what we captured using the ‘Eyes of True Sight’ of three Haemonchiri.” Victor’s voice suddenly turned harsh. “Every time it approaches the Corridor of Shadows, a regular stream of information overflows from the same data port. Old woman! Don’t tell me an energy being would go all out to perform an energy dance in the corner where your cult hides historical materials!”

The old woman’s eyes seemed to flicker. “The Archive Keepers have reported that these mercenaries do have a strong and strange curiosity about the ancient knowledge of the Eldar. But the cult adheres to the Holy Law and has never released its core secrets… I still want to emphasize that we didn’t know they were human spies. This can only be considered the witches’ indulgence of their adorable pets. Please forgive me.”

“The indulgence of adorable pets… you still have the guts to talk.”

Victor sneered, and he fiercely threw out a third image!

No longer a human battlefield or archives, but an extremely strange mental scan! A recording of the ‘Soul Imagery’ performed by the high-ranking witches of the Witch Spirit Cult! The image was extremely unstable, filled with screaming soul fragments and a crimson background.

At the center of the scene stood an old woman!

She wore a magnificent ritual robe. Her face, not the expressionless silver-white mask, but a skull visor inlaid with blood-red jewels, signifying her high priestess status. She raised her hands high, presiding over a sinister ritual! Surrounding her were dozens of dancing priestesses. Their target—a struggling humanoid figure bound to the altar’s summit, condensed from pure painful memories!

The ritual’s power surged violently, connecting the altar to a raging psychic vortex.

At its edge, several humanoid Storm Heroic Spirits were clearly visible.

They weren’t simply spectators; they were actively drawing upon the ritual’s raging psychic energy.

It seemed as if they were being used as “batteries,” serving as energy reservoirs within the ritual, drawing energy from them to replenish the witch spirits engaged in the ritual.

However, a closer look revealed a faint, shimmering stream of symbolic information between the vortex and the Heroic Spirits, requiring the utmost mental expertise to decipher.

Those symbols… incredibly precise, their core structure clearly depicting a complex circuitry channeling energy and connecting nodes across a multidimensional space!

“Are you still trying to quibble, old woman?”

“This is from the ‘Eye of Mensha’ ritual you presided over. The cult’s secret code states that a soul of pure suffering is needed to invoke Mensha’s blessing, extracting energy to maintain the stability of all of Comoros’ Veil Ports. The ritual was successful, but tell me, why after that day, the energy flow diagrams depicting the internal structures of these energy creatures began to display rune sequences found only in the secret code in your hand?”

Everything was exposed.

The old woman was a brilliant schemer, orchestrating many things, even unknown to the energy spirits. Their ability to gather and analyze the complete Veil Spirit Gate technology so quickly and smoothly was due to covert assistance.

She had thought that this would be a flawless operation.

However, Victor knew what even the Storm Spirits didn’t know.

The silver-white mask worn by the old woman cracked into countless pieces like a spider web and fell off, revealing the face underneath the mask – it was a pale face that still retained the elegance of time, with lines as cold as a knife edge, and deep eyes full of lamentation.

“You are worthy of being the Black Wizard King, the most outstanding conspiracy master in thousands of years. You have been able to unify Comoros under your command and accomplished what countless conspiracy archons could not do… Wise Black Wizard King, since you have all the answers, why ask again?”

“Because, there is something I have been thinking about for a long time and can’t figure it out.” Victor’s voice did not change because the old woman finally admitted everything, “Why? Why did you do this?”

“I respect you, I trust you. Apart from this matter, you really have no other contact with those humans. I thought about whether you introduced foreign enemies in order to replace me and form a wave enough to overthrow me, but now it seems that it should not be…”

“Then why is it? Please forgive my stupidity, and please enlighten me as you have every time in the past.”

The old woman answered very straightforwardly:

“For the prophecy.”

This answer greatly aroused Victor’s anger!

It seems that he did not really understand the old woman’s motives as he said. On the contrary, he seemed to have thought it through so clearly that when the old woman spoke of it, it was as if all the pent-up anger in his heart was ignited, causing him to behave extremely gaffe-proof for the first time!

“For the prophecy? For the prophecy!!!”

“I believe in your prophecy! I have done so much for this prophecy. I have reconciled the tens of millions of forces, large and small, in Comoros, making them believe that this prophecy determines the fate of every Eldar and ties them to the chariot. I have done my best to weaken the Infinite Legion, constantly observing and seizing opportunities. When necessary, I will mobilize the entire army and conduct a military operation in the extremely dangerous warp space for our race.”

“I am almost successful. Whether it is Robert or Gu Jing mentioned in your prophecy, they have all fallen into Comoros. Even if there are some twists and turns in the middle, everything is still under control. The only step left is to slowly shed the blood of those humans. In our own home turf, we have the blood of endless slaves to spill.”

“But you brought the Alliance in and gave out Comoros’ biggest secret. You stabbed me in the most critical place.”

“Betrayal, betrayal. I have experienced countless betrayals in my life, but none of them hurt me as much as this time.”

“Old woman, old woman. What did I do wrong? The prophecy gave the elves a judgment on their fate, and I was determined to hold the fate in the hands of the elves. What’s wrong with that?”

“Do you have to let those so-called descendants of God make the judgment? You don’t believe that our great race cannot control its own destiny and complete our own revival with our own hands?”

Faced with a series of questions, the old woman’s attitude has never changed.

The ‘daughter’ of the god Mensha just listened patiently, until Victor’s words with great anger caused the cold wind to become extremely fierce, then she spoke:

“This is the will of Mensha, this is the destiny of the Eldar. Our race has long lost all vitality, and the great revival is just an unacceptable fantasy. There is no place for us in the future of the universe. Our only way is to join them and become them as part of the overlords of the universe. Only in this way can we preserve our genes, our culture, our wisdom, and our gods…”

“God! God! God!!!” Victor interrupted the old woman angrily, “What about Mensha? What about that human pseudo-emperor? The same goes for those four despicable and disgusting things in the warp!”

“Let these gods die! Nothing can stop the great revival of the Eldar, and nothing can stop me from holding my destiny in my own hands.”

“Even if it is the god of our race!”

Victor’s face was magnified into a huge shadow under the light cast by the crystal prism.

As his rage was finally vented, his entire body gradually calmed.

The rage receded along with the chill wind, leaving only a deeper, unfathomable silence. His deep, pool-like eyes slowly lifted, churning with a bitter, icy feeling of utter betrayal.

Perhaps he had already understood.

It wasn’t just the old woman who betrayed him, but the Dark Eldar deity known as Mensha, standing behind her, a double-edged sword of Windsor.

The Dark Eldar fervently worshipped Mensha. In their society, Mensha worship was the largest religion, often subjecting slaves and even other Dark Elves to bloody sacrifices. This cult was initiated by the Witch Elves. They believed themselves to be led by the old woman, the ‘Daughter of Mensha.’

Victor was also a Mensha devotee, but now he spurned the deity and sneered at his pathetic nature.

“I will not tolerate any being manipulating me and my race, no matter what excuse fate offers.” He shook his head slowly. “Every grain of dust in Comoros, saturated with pain, will dance beneath my blade. If Mensha helps me, I trust him; if he doesn’t, then he’s nothing more than a damned creature of the Warp, unworthy of my attention.”

“Even if everything truly is a chess game and a toy played by the gods, everything predetermined, nothing unchangeable, then I would rather take the Eldar, all of Comoros, with me into hell, into the dust of history!”

The crystal prism behind him shattered as he pronounced his sentence. The light faded, and the massive shadow cast by Viktor on the throne receded.

He leaned forward slightly, as if using all his strength to hold himself back. The withered face of the Dark Eldar was covered in a layer of aging ashes. He extended a hand—not an attack, but a feeble repulsion.

“Take the sacrificial knife, old woman,” Viktor’s voice pierced the hollows of the bones like the wind. “Then, descend.”

Just one last, light command, yet it stung harder than any curse.

The old woman knew the outcome.

No words were needed to pronounce judgment; Viktor’s dead gaze, the subtle crack of the crumbling stone armrest, and the single word “sacrificial knife” pointing to the final ritual were enough.

Her deep eyes gazed at the hunched figure on the throne for a long moment, until finally, a faint sigh escaped her.

The old woman did not resist her fate, just as she did not resist the fate of the Eldar.

However, her gaze towards Viktor gradually took on a touch of pity.

She averted her gaze, no longer looking, and spoke no words.

She bowed deeply, silently, a final farewell to an old friend who had been with her for countless years.

Then, slowly, ever so slowly, she turned, her movements like struggling in flowing amber. The hem of her robe, dark as crow feathers, brushed against the cold ground, dragging silently as she slid toward an unassuming archway entrance at the edge of the chamber, swallowed by a deep darkness.

The darkness, like the maw of a monster, gradually devoured her lonely and isolated figure, until the last scrap of her robe vanished amidst the swirling, thick shadows, as if she had never set foot in this hall rife with betrayal and judgment. Only

the faint scent of rotting incense and the withered figure on the throne filled the air.

(End of Chapter)