Warhammer: Should I also sit on the Golden Throne?

0049 Ding? DingTalk!

Ma... has fainted?

Inside the triangular room of Macurag, Zhou Yun stared in disbelief at the scene.

He, the Emperor of Mankind, the Lord of Mankind, the Corpse King burning on the Golden Throne, the old salted meat who plays with witchcraft, a psionicist with the spiritual power of three bodies, possessing the psionic magic of the Inquisition and Prospero, a biochemist who can regulate the cells in his own body to eliminate most toxins, was actually knocked unconscious by a mere anesthetic.

Within the courtroom, biochemical techniques are classified into six levels: Incarnation Cultivator, Blood Cultivator, Blood Source Cultivator, Protector Cultivator, Soul Cultivator, and Saint Extinction Cultivator.

Zhou Yun was roughly at the third level of bloodline cultivators... but when he thought that the hellish place might be Nuseria, the homeworld of Primarch Angron, and that even Angron, the masterpiece of imperial bio-alchemy, had been repeatedly rendered unconscious by the anesthetics on Nuseria, Zhou Yun felt somewhat at ease.

But why?

Why is Nuthria caught in the blue and gold storm of Guilliman?

Isn't that Angron's homeworld?

Wait... if that blue and gold storm represents Alteramar itself, then...

Zhou Yun gently tapped his head a few times, using his telepathic spiritual energy to extract a detail from his past life's memories.

He remembered that, shortly after the end of the Angron Rebellion, the high-ranking riders who had enslaved Angron and ruled Nuseria quickly reconciled with Robert Guilliman and joined the "Otram Empire" without hesitation.

Nutheria was later part of Altramor, and the high-ranking riders who enslaved Angron, slaughtered Angron brothers, and drove nails into Angron were all under Robert Guilliman's command.

Not a buddy...

This delicate situation left Zhou Yun somewhat at a loss for words.

Ambitious... Ambitious... Zhou Yun could only think this to himself.

Deep within the underground crypts of the gladiatorial arena in Nutheria and Desia.

Zhou Yun slowly opened his eyes. The electric light flickered dimly on the rough stone pillars of the corridor. The air was thick with the stench of sweat. People were crammed together, and the rattling of chains echoed incessantly…

"Hey kid, you're awake." A hoarse, deep voice, like that of a bear, rang in Zhou Yun's ears.

Zhou Yun rubbed his head and got up from the floor. The anesthetic was still working, and his head was throbbing slightly.

"They drugged you. Looks like you've caused quite a scene." A rough, large hand patted his back.

Zhou Yun saw the old man who had fought alongside him on the battlefield sitting next to him.

The old man handed Zhou Yun a grayish-brown rag, gesturing for Zhou Yun to wipe the sweat and blood from his face.

Zhou Yun lowered his head, wiping his face with a rag while quietly observing his surroundings.

The curtain was very thick... The thickness of the curtain had returned to normal, far from the feeling that Zhou Yun had experienced in the arena where it seemed fragile and vulnerable.

How can the thickness of the curtain vary so much in different locations on the same planet?

There's definitely something wrong with Nuthria, that awful place...

"He's awake? He doesn't look badly injured. Lucky you, kid." A female voice rang out beside Zhou Yun.

Zhou Yun raised his head slightly. It was a slender and elegant woman wearing only leather armor that offered almost no protection. Her well-defined muscles were fully exposed before Zhou Yun's eyes. What attracted Zhou Yun's attention the most were her legs—no, this woman didn't have legs at all. Her legs had been severed and replaced with two sharp spears.

The spear faintly revealed traces of mechanical structure, seemingly emanating some kind of force field to help the woman maintain her balance.

"Do you know that staring at someone's legs is very impolite?" The woman grinned, walked up to Zhou Yun, and shoved the ceramic bowl in his hand into Zhou Yun's hands.

The water in the earthenware bowl was slightly murky. "Have some water," the woman said to Zhou Yun. "It'll help relieve the effects of that damn anesthetic—you're quite capable to get those worms to use anesthesia on you, even as a newcomer.

"Crest, don't underestimate him." The old man grinned and said, "This kid performed poorly at first, probably because he hadn't reacted yet, but after being knocked down once, he got into the zone and became so fast that even I could hardly see him. In the blink of an eye, the beastman's throat was broken."

"Impressive! To earn praise from Old Bear Onomamus on your very first appearance, the last one was our champion." The woman named Kleist patted Zhou Yun on the shoulder with a smile. "If the two of us met in the arena, I'd really love to see who's faster."

"But he really startled me when he came on stage." Onomamus, known as the Old Bear, shook his head and gestured for Kleist to look at the helmet placed next to Zhou Yun, which had a hideous gash on it.

"The beastman hacked at him with an axe, and I almost thought he was dead. I never expected him to be able to stand up... and even be completely unharmed. It's amazing luck."

"Such a deep gash..." Kleist touched the gash on his helmet, exclaiming in amazement, "Completely unharmed? I'd believe you if you told me he came back from the dead!"

Then she looked at Zhou Yun, who had remained silent.

"Feeling better, bro?" Kleist looked down at Zhou Yun. "What's your name?"

"Zhou Yun." Zhou Yun gave a somewhat bitter smile, as if he was still being tormented by the anesthesia.

He was still having a headache, but the pain was nothing to him. He was mainly focusing his energy on studying the veil of Nutheria and his connection with Macurag.

The veil inside the cave is too thick, making it difficult for him to cross boundaries and truly awaken the spiritual energy in this body.

Furthermore... Zhou Yun can now clearly perceive the relative positions between Nuseria and Macurag from the Golden Throne.

Perhaps he could use this to act as a navigator between the two places... If the warp engine could be recreated, perhaps the Macurag warriors could be brought to Nuthria.

Nutheria's technology is indeed strangely powerful, but they lack aerospace technology, starships, and orbital strike capabilities.

While Macragge's technology may seem ordinary, the reason it has been able to maintain its position as the leader of more than a dozen worlds is that although Macragge did not leave behind a warp engine... their starships did leave behind an ancient God's Blade-type light spear.

He admitted that Nuseria's magical anesthetic was very effective, but said nothing of the orbital bombardment of the light spears that burned mountains and boiled seas in Macurag.

"Zhou Yun." Kleist smiled and nodded, then stood up and called out to the other gladiators, "Brothers and sisters, welcome to our family a new member: Zhou Yun, who has risen from the dead!"

A cheer erupted from the gladiators, and many of the shackled warriors raised their hands to applaud.

Just then, a tall figure slowly walked through the gladiators and came to Zhou Yun's side.

He was an unusually strong warrior, covered in scars that resembled crimson lines. Zhou Yun knew this was a custom of the gladiator arena; after each battle, gladiators would leave behind scars known as "ropes of triumph." If they lost, they would mix mud into their wounds to create "black lines," while if they won, they would leave behind pure "red lines."

A man with only red lines on his body signifies that he has never failed.

But the man's expression was not fierce; instead, it carried a gentleness, an almost compassionate light. He knelt down on one knee and placed a helmet in Zhou Yun's hand.

"Zhou Yun, who has come back from the dead." He addressed Zhou Yun in the same way as Kleist: "This is the helmet that old Kunigras wore before he died, and it is also the helmet I wore when I first went into the arena. I am giving it to you, hoping that you will never follow in old Kunigras' footsteps and that you can always come back from the dead."

"My name is Anglong. From this day forward, we are bound together by blood, and we will consider each other family."

As he spoke, he grasped Zhou Yun's hand... and then, Anglong froze.

"...Brother?" He looked at Zhou Yun, a sudden look of worry on his face. "Why are you in so much pain, as if you're burning up?"

Zhou Yun raised his head, his gaze meeting Anglong's, and his precognitive abilities were uncontrollably activated.

Anglong looked at Zhou Yun and saw the blazing golden flames in Zhou Yun's eyes.

Zhou Yun looked at Anglong and saw a future stained with blood.

He saw them fighting side-by-side like brothers, saw Angron's broad body shielding him from blades, saw them laughing heartily in the free winds of the plains, saw Angron feeding them with his own blood in the snowy mountains, saw thousands of freed slaves cheering for them... He saw... he saw... blood...

He saw...

In Angron's future, there will be only blood, anger, and nails piercing skulls.